by Mandy Magro
Sighing from the weight of his past, he sculled the last of his Coke, and then ordered another from the overly flirtatious, and very attractive, barmaid. He wished he had it in him to take her blatant advances on board, but he needed much more than outward appearances to turn him on. There had to be a sizzling spark for him to be interested. He’d always been that way, and nothing was going to change him. He hadn’t been with another woman since Shelley.
True to form in always being late to anything and everything, his best mate, Ralph, suddenly appeared beside him, his shaggy hair as frazzled as he looked.
Ralph gave him a friendly slap on the back. ‘Hey there buddy, sorry I’m late.’ He pointed to the splatters of mud on his clothes. ‘I decided to cut through the neighbour’s paddock and got myself a little bogged.’
‘How many times is that now?’ Dylan pretended to count on his fingers as he chuckled.
‘It’s the third time,’ Ralph replied stoutly, as if he was proud of the fact. ‘And each and every time I’ve got myself out with only a little bit of effort.’
‘And a little bit of mud, too.’ Dylan pointed to Ralph’s clothes and shook his head, smiling. ‘You’ll never learn, will you?’
Ralph grinned like a naughty child. ‘Nope.’
A squeal halted their banter and they turned to see Annie running full pelt for them, her arms wide. ‘Uncle Ralph! You came!’
Ralph swept her up into his arms, showering kisses all over her cheeks as he did so. ‘Of course I came. I wouldn’t miss your party for the world! Happy birthday, sweetheart.’ He hugged her closely. Annie tightly wrapped her legs and arms around him as he dug into his shirt pocket and pulled out a beautifully wrapped little box. ‘I got a little something for you. Hope you like it.’
Annie grinned, showing her lack of front teeth as Ralph placed her back down and handed her the package. Annie tore it open with excitement, her eyes and mouth wide as she flicked open the box and spotted the gold necklace inside, a tiny cross hanging from it.
‘Wow, this is so pretty. Thank you so much. I love it.’ She reached up on her tippy-toes, motioning to give Ralph a kiss.
‘My pleasure, sweetheart.’ Ralph leant over and pecked her cheek.
‘Do you want me to put it on you now?’ Dylan asked as Annie handed him the box.
‘Yes please, Daddy. I want to go and show all my friends.’
Kneeling down then clasping the necklace, making sure the cross was positioned properly, Dylan smiled from the inside out. Everyone who meant something in their lives had made an effort for Annie’s special day and it warmed his heart no end to see her so happy.
Ralph placed his hand on Dylan’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. ‘I’m going to grab a beer, mate. You need a top up?’
Dylan stood, watching Annie race back towards her friends. ‘Nah, I’m right for now. Still got half a glass of Coke left.’
‘On the hard stuff, hey,’ Ralph said lightheartedly.
‘As always,’ Dylan replied, grinning.
‘Righto, I’ll say a quick g’day to Rex and Lorraine and then you can fill me in a bit more on this bloody fence debacle.’
‘I don’t want to put my shit on you today, Ralph. I’ve complained enough and you need some chill time too.’
‘You’re looking stressed, Dylan, like you might need to unload a bit, mate, so I’m all ears.’
‘Yeah, tell me about it, between my money worries and now this, I feel like I’m going to drive myself around the bend.’
Ralph grinned playfully. ‘Well, if that’s the case, I’ll drive around the bend with you…can’t be letting you do it alone.’
Dylan chuckled. ‘Thanks, mate.’
Ralph gave him a slap on the back. ‘That’s what mates are for.’
Carrying an exhausted Annie in his arms, Dylan quietly padded into the cottage with a pirouetting Bossy at his feet. Grinning at his doggy mate, he let her in with him, closing the door softly behind them all. After a few quick licks to Dylan’s leg, Bossy took off towards the lounge room, clearly excited she was being upgraded to her doggy penthouse for the night—her ‘inside’ dog bed. Whirling round in circles, then chasing her tail for a few more spins, Bossy then thumped down on her bed in the cosy corner, her tongue lolling out to the side and her long legs sprawled out at angles other dogs would find impossible. Life was a ball of fun to her, each day an adventure to be had. Dylan chuckled at Bossy’s enthusiasm—the cottage wouldn’t have been the same without her.
Silently, he crept off down the hallway. It was only just past five in the afternoon but Annie had crashed in the car on the way home, and he didn’t want to wake her. He was expecting her to sleep until tomorrow morning, given the full day she’d had at her birthday party. His mum had retired to her granny flat out the back too, the children having exhausted her. He had to admit, though, his two special girls—Claire and Annie—had been the happiest he’d seen them in months today, and it was wonderful to witness. Things might be tough financially, but after a nice weekend spent together, life was looking a little brighter. It was as though he’d been wandering through a dark tunnel and could now see a fraction of light at the end of it, still very far away, and very dim, but light all the same. It made him feel a little more optimistic for the future, his decision to go and see the psychologist in town lifting some of the weight from his burdened shoulders already. The first step was normally the hardest to take.
Placing Annie down on her bed, Dylan began gently changing her out of her pink cowgirl outfit and into her pyjamas. He felt as bushed as she looked. It was a hard job being a single parent, even though he had his mum there to help, but he wasn’t complaining. He loved being a dad, especially to such a big-hearted adorable little girl. Being biased didn’t even come into it. Looking down at her he smiled. If only Shelley could see how beautiful their little girl was. Tears filled his eyes but he blinked them away.
Tomorrow, he was going to call the shrink and make his first appointment, and then he was going to drive out to Wildwood Acres and get himself a job. As far as he knew, Stanley Wildwood wasn’t even aware he’d dated Renee, and that was probably a good thing, because he didn’t want that to have any bearing on his chances of getting the job. Renee’s grandfather had been strict with the girls as teenagers—especially when it came to not having boyfriends. Hopefully Stanley had forgotten about the time he’d chased him off the property all those years ago when he’d turned up desperate to find out where Renee had vanished to—nine years had changed his appearance somewhat. This was his lifeline, his way out of financial hardship, so he didn’t want anything ruining that chance. The extra money to help put food on the table and pay for the household bills was going to make a huge difference. God, he hoped nobody had gotten to Stanley first and taken the job.
Lightly tugging Annie’s sticky hair into a shambolic bun on her head—he’d get her to wash out whatever foodstuff was pasting her hair together in the morning—a jolt of positivity rushed through him. The fact he was doing something to aid his plight felt empowering, like he’d finally taken the reins of his life again. Tenderly, he brushed the hair from Annie’s face, and then tucked her beneath her Dora the Explorer covers, at the same time checking that her asthma puffer was on her bedside table.
Annie had loved the GPS locator watch—when she’d first put it on this morning she’d made him promise to never make her take it off. Planting one last loving kiss on her cheek, he headed off to have a shower, watch a bit of telly and then hit the sack himself. Tomorrow was a brand new day, with brand new experiences and the possibility of big life changes. His instincts were telling him there was something magical just around the corner, and he couldn’t wait to find out what it was.
CHAPTER
7
His breathing a little shallow and his hands a little shaky, Dylan sat down at his desk and picked up the phone, dialling the number from the business card his mum had given him almost a year ago. Quickly hanging up before it started to r
ing, he drummed his fingers on the desk, his stomach feeling as though a swarm of angry bees were at war with one another.
I can do this—I have to.
He snatched the phone up and pressed redial, fighting the intense urge to hang up again. Even though he knew this was a step in the right direction, it still made him extremely anxious. He’d been raised to believe that tough country men weren’t meant to talk about their feelings, especially to some stranger. But he had to do something, and what did he have to lose by at least giving it a go?
‘Good morning, Wise Psychology, Jaycee speaking.’
Shit, Jaycee was an ex-barmaid from the pub, and known to be one of the biggest gossips in town. What in the hell was she doing working there? He almost hung up, and then stopped himself. Who cares if she told people he was seeing a shrink—not that she should, as it would be very unprofessional. It took guts to admit he needed help. So fuck anyone that tried to hang shit on him for it. ‘Yeah, um, morning… I’d like to make an appointment with the doc please.’
‘Sure, I’ve actually just had a cancellation for eleven tomorrow morning. Would you like to take it? Otherwise it’s a two week wait, I’m afraid.’ Her voice was so cheery it was almost annoying.
So there you go. The doc was booked out for weeks. So he wasn’t the only one in Opals Ridge needing help. It made him feel better about going. ‘Yup, I’ll take it for now, but can I get back to you later if I need to change it? I’m not sure if I’m working tomorrow.’
‘That should be okay, as long as you let me know by mid-afternoon today.’
‘Oh, yup, no problems. Will do.’ Dylan’s right leg was bouncing like the clappers. He placed his hand on it to stop it. Bloody nerves.
‘Okey-dokey then, what’s your name so I can book you in?’ she sang down the phone.
He wanted some of what she was on. ‘Dylan Anderson.’ He waited for her to say something like, Oh my goodness, you need to see a shrink, really? I never would have guessed.
But she didn’t. She just very professionally booked him in without even a mention of knowing him from the pub.
‘Okay then, Dylan, all booked in. We’ll see you tomorrow if I don’t hear back from you this afternoon.’
‘Great, thanks, see you then.’ Dylan was relieved to hang up and he took a few deep breaths. He’d finally done it.
Staring out his office window to the paddock Rascal called home, he grinned. The gelding had his head up in the air, lips back and teeth bared while snapping at the flies. Rascal certainly was a character and a half. Over the past two months he’d really bonded with the horse, as had Annie, and he was glad he’d followed his gut instincts and brought the horse home. It hadn’t taken long for Rascal to trust him, and all the hard work he’d put into him had certainly paid off. He’d deliberately put him in the closest paddock to the cottage as a pal for his stockhorse, Turbo, and also so Annie could hang out with her new buddy whenever she liked, which was quite often. Not long now and she’d be able to ride him in the round yard, under strict supervision of course. Sculling the last of his coffee, he stood and pulled on his wide-brimmed hat. One huge accomplishment down and one to go. Time to hit the road and get himself that job at Wildwood Acres.
***
Rinsing the last of the cutlery in the sink and then popping it into the dishwasher, Renee took off her flour-covered apron while bopping along to the Brad Paisley song playing loudly on the local radio station. It was a rare treat to turn the wireless on and have country music playing. Staring out at the spectacular pastoral views from the kitchen bay window, she sang the words out loud and way out of tune, but she didn’t care. Nobody could hear her here.
For the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt free of worries, as though she was somehow lighter just by being back at Wildwood Acres. Something magical in the country air was cleansing her from the inside out, making her feel more invigorated and alive than she had in years. And she loved it. Immensely. It was the complete opposite of what she thought she’d feel, her panic attacks and nightmares not rearing their ugly heads at all.
Packing her nan’s legendary homemade strawberry-and-rhubarb jam and a container of freshly whipped cream alongside the flask of tea and pannikins, Renee then wrapped some of her freshly made date-and-walnut scones into a clean tea towel. She made sure to keep two of the delicious golden mounds aside for Nan, wanting to take some homemade treats to her at the hospital this afternoon. The AGA stove had worked a treat, the scones the best she’d ever made. Even the demerara sugar she’d sprinkled on top had gone nice and golden.
She’d made sure to save some for Mick, too—the poor bugger was going stir-crazy being confined to his lounge chair. When she’d walked in yesterday he was entertaining himself by whacking flies with his fly swat then writing down his tally as he successfully belted them—he’d been up to twenty-eight, and still counting. At least her scones might cheer him up a bit, along with the stack of old western movies she’d found in the TV cabinet. She’d drop the care package over to him later this arvo, before heading into the hospital with Pa to see her nan.
A lamb-and-pumpkin stew she’d prepared after an early brekkie this morning simmered away slowly on the stovetop, the yummy aromas wafting from the cast-iron pot making her mouth water. The pumpkin was her little trick for thickening the stew without the need for cornflour—and it made it so much more delicious too. She would pop it in the heart of the oven before she left for smoko. Her pa was going to be mighty proud of her.
She’d only been here three days, and she was already settling back into country life—albeit at times a little reluctantly. Although there were countless things to love about Wildwood Acres, there were also many things she missed about her life back in the city—Tia for one, and especially the fact that she lived on her own and could wander around in her knickers and not have to shut the door when she went to the loo. And she missed Kat too, big time. But, in the scheme of things she could live with this for a few months, because after years of fearing returning home, it was a weight off her shoulders to feel so relaxed and at peace here.
When she went into town for the first time it might be a different story. The thought of Scarlet’s killer possibly wandering past her in the street was more than a little daunting, especially given the fact that he—or she—had wanted her dead too. Pa had suggested not venturing into town on her own for now, just until she felt comfortable, and most certainly to curb his own worries too—not that he’d admit that. She thought it to be a good suggestion.
Her basket of goodies now packed, Renee headed out of the kitchen, stopping momentarily to look at herself in the full-length mirror near the front door. After returning from the hospital last night, Pa had recovered a few boxes of her old clothes and things from the loft, and it had been like Christmas sorting through it all. She’d even found an old bottle of her favourite perfume, J’adore Dior, still in its box. It had been a welcome surprise as in her haste to pack, she’d forgotten to bring any perfume along with her from Melbourne.
It was disappointing that Nan’s doctor wanted to keep her in for another week or so, just to monitor her, but at least she was where she needed to be if she took another turn for the worse. He’d explained that her heart was still being a little erratic, so it was for the best she stayed in a bit longer. Renee was looking forward to getting her home, but until then, she was happy to be out helping her pa around the station.
Today was her first full day of work, and she couldn’t wait to get her butt in the saddle for a while as they checked the fences, and then get her hands dirty helping with treating the cattle for ticks. She felt blessed to be stepping through the front door and into her ‘office’ for the day, unlike the urban dwellers who had to drive for hours in peak hour traffic, or jam themselves into public transport like sardines just to get to work. Although it had plenty of perks, urban living could be tough to manage day in day out. And even though being in the country had its challenges, it came with so many b
lessings too.
Turning to the side, she smiled while trying to suck in her very slight podge around the waist. She couldn’t believe her old Wrangler jeans still fit after all these years, and her timeworn Bonds singlets were a little tighter around her boobs than she’d like, but they fit all the same. Tugging on her button-up long-sleeved shirt, she did it halfway up—covering up as much as possible when working out in the harshness of the North Queensland sun was imperative.
It felt wonderful to be heading out the door make-up free, with her long hair pulled into a ponytail and wearing boots instead of a suit and heels. She’d always felt a little fake when dressed up to the nines in Melbourne. She’d certainly enjoyed the buzz of wearing high-end suits and Gucci heels, but this, right here, the reflection staring back at her, was the real Renee Wildwood. If only her sister was alive, she’d look exactly like she did now; at least through her own appearance she could imagine what Scarlet would have looked like as she’d aged.
‘I miss you so much, Scarlet,’ she whispered as she brushed her long fringe from wet eyes.
A strange sensation pulled her focus from the mirror, as though someone was secretly watching her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she spun around, her heart thudding and her breath held. ‘Hello? Pa? Mick?’ Her voice was merely a squeak. ‘Henry?’
There was no reply, not that she should really expect one from a dog—Henry being her pa’s faithful pooch. And then there it was again. Frankincense. The big difference was, this time Renee knew she wasn’t imagining it. It was pungent, the aroma lingering in the air so strongly she felt as though she could reach out and touch it. Gradually placing the basket down on the floor, she reached out while slowly turning around in circles, trying to feel something, anything. ‘Scarlet? Please, if you’re here, do something to make me believe. I’m begging you.’
She stopped, frozen to the spot, eyes wide, heart galloping, waiting, hoping and praying, all her senses on high alert. But nothing happened. And then, as quickly as the scent had arrived, it was gone. Her mind spinning like a whirlwind and her legs as wobbly as jelly, Renee eased herself back against the wall and slid down to the floor.