by Mandy Magro
She sat back on her heels. ‘So, my newfound friend, what will I name you, huh?’ She looked around the back of it, to decide on whether it needed a girl’s or boy’s name. Dangly bits confirmed the latter. She nodded confidently as a suitable name flashed through her mind. ‘I think I’m going to call you Huckleberry, or Huck for short, after the very famous vagabond Huckleberry Finn. It was a story my mum used to read to me as a little girl, and I loved it. You like?’
Placing his front paws on her thigh, Huckleberry gave her a big slobbery kiss up the left cheek, his tail now wagging out of control.
‘I gather that’s a big fat yes.’ Matilda laughed as she fruitlessly tried to avoid more doggy kisses, and then screwed her nose up. She waved her hand in front of her face to ward off the stench. ‘Man, your breath stinks like a garbage tip.’ Her amusement fading, she looked at the way his stomach was tucked up and had to stop herself from crying. ‘Probably because that’s where you’ve been finding your food. You’re in desperate need of a good wholesome feed, aren’t you, buddy?’
Huckleberry sat back, holding up his front paws as though begging for a meal.
‘Oh my goodness, you poor little bugger … and here I am feeling sorry for myself because I haven’t eaten since breakfast. You look like you haven’t eaten for a week.’
Huckleberry barked a short sharp reply, spun round in a circle and then sat in front of her again, looking at her as though eager to please.
‘Aw, you’re so sweet.’ Matilda wrapped her arms around his neck and gave him a squeeze, not caring that he stunk to high heaven. ‘Looks like it’s just you and me then, buddy … what do you reckon about that, hey?’
Wriggling free, Huckleberry gave her a confused look then bolted off into the shadows at a hundred miles an hour. Sadness filled Matilda as she watched him vanish. So much for what she’d thought was friendship. She slumped down to the ground, wounded by the thought he didn’t want her company because she sure as hell could use his right now. But then, as speedily as he’d disappeared, Huckleberry returned with the remnants of what appeared to be a tennis ball in his mouth. Gone was the bright yellow fur from the outside, leaving just the shell and only half of it at that. He dropped it in her lap and then nudged her arm with his cool wet nose.
Grimacing, Matilda picked the ball up with the tips of her fingers. Slobber dripped from every inch of it. ‘You want me to throw it for you?’
An excited tap dance was the reply, Huckleberry’s tail resembling a chopper blade he was so excited.
So she did as he so desperately wanted, and for the next twenty minutes she played the game until she could take no more drool. ‘I think that’s enough now, Huck. How about me and you hit the road in search of grand adventures?’ Her stomach growled loudly. Huckleberry tipped his head to the side as he eyed her belly. ‘Some food for both of us wouldn’t go astray either. I hope it’s not too far to the next town or I reckon I’m going to pass out from starvation.’
The distant drone of a heavy diesel engine followed by the flash of bright headlights sent Matilda scrabbling to her feet. ‘You stay here, Huck, I don’t want you getting run over.’ She gave his head a quick pat. ‘I promise I’ll be back for you.’
But Huck clearly wasn’t taking any chances as he followed her to the road. Without enough time to reprimand him, and knowing that probably wouldn’t do any good anyway, Matilda made sure to keep him out of harm’s way. Holding one arm up to shield her eyes from the blinding glare of a truck’s spotlights, she stuck her thumb out, praying that whoever was behind the wheel would pick her up and that they were going to allow a dog in their cab. Otherwise she wouldn’t be accepting a ride no matter how much she wanted to. The truck was heading in the opposite direction, back from where she had come, but at the moment, as long as she didn’t have to walk any further and the driver could get her to somewhere with food and a room that she could sneak Huck into, she didn’t give two hoots. But as it got closer the truck didn’t appear to be slowing, and if anything, it seemed to be speeding up now it was over the rise. Matilda wondered if it was because she was on the wrong side of the highway. But she didn’t want to risk running across the road now, for fear of Huck getting hit. In a blink of an eye the truck sped past her, the strong gush of wind carrying with it the stench of the cattle on board.
Blinking away grit and dust, she threw her hands up in the air in defeat, as another set of headlights made her turn. Squinting, she gazed down the highway. There was another truck coming and this time it was going in the direction she was heading. Thumb out, she prayed she’d be blessed with a lift. Surely her run of bad luck had to end sometime.
CHAPTER
2
Manoeuvring the now empty B-double stock truck that greedily took up thirty metres of bitumen around the sharp bend, Ryan Hunter then straddled the centre line of the highway as he rubbed his weary eyes to some sort of life. A pair of matchsticks to prise them open came to mind and he chuckled to himself as he imagined how he would look—a man conjured up crazy things when he’d been on the road for so long. After dropping his final load of cattle off to the saleyards an hour ago, he was heading towards home and an entire month off. Most people would be thrilled about that but he wasn’t too keen. The thought of sitting in one spot scared the life out of him. But after working himself to the bone this past year his boss had ordered he take some of his annual leave, and he’d begrudgingly agreed. If he had learnt one big lesson while chasing the white lines of the long and at times lonely highways, it was that no amount of bargaining with God or even the devil himself, no matter how many what ifs and maybes he tortured himself with, no matter how many times he ran that fateful day over and over in his mind, it was never going to be any different. He would have to find a way to come to terms with it and move forward, but would he ever truly get over the guilt of what he’d done?
So as not to torture himself again, he did what his psychologist had taught him to do, and tried to think of the positives …
Although he was anxious that the month off would give him too much idle time to think, he couldn’t wait for the sheer pleasure of climbing into his king-size bed rather than into the rack in the truck where his six-foot frame didn’t allow him the pleasure of stretching out. It was going to be absolute heaven—kind of like he’d just got out of jail. To be able to jump on one of his horses and go for a gallop whenever his heart desired would be bliss.
‘Not long now, you’re on the homestretch,’ he said under his breath, as if encouraging himself to keep going. He had to admit that running from his grief, guilt and pain was beginning to wear him thin. His mind and body needed rest, and so too did his broken heart.
There were many things he loved about being a true-blue Aussie trucker, like being able to see parts of Australia not many did and having a constantly changing view out of his office window, but after living the nomadic life in his home away from home this past year, working hours where others had the pleasure of putting their feet up in front of the television at night, sleeping in a narrow bed with traffic roaring past and rocking the rig like a rolling pin, not having a toilet and shower whenever he needed, and missing out on the chance to settle down with a good woman and make the family he longed to have was getting to him. Big time. But he kept all this to himself, amongst other things, as he always did. The life of a trucker was a solitary one—he’d known that right from the start—which is why he’d chosen to do it. He wanted to stay away from the majority of the locals because of what they thought of him. He wasn’t stupid, he’d heard their whispers. He’d learnt to like his own company, so no use complaining.
The two-way radio crackled to life, jolting him from his thoughts. ‘Well g’day there, Hunter. What’s doing?’
Ryan smiled at the sound of his mate’s voice. After crossing paths with him on his maiden voyage and bonding with him instantly, Bill Frankston was the one person who had been a constant for Ryan while driving along all these endless country roads. ‘Hey, old mate,
long time no see, how’s tricks?’
‘You know, buddy, same old same old. You homeward bound?’
‘Sure am. I’m getting a sniff of home sweet home right now. It’ll be so good to see the family, and I’m loving the thought of getting out of this metal box for a while.’
He had to think of the positives, right?
‘You make sure you have yourself a nice holiday, then, won’t ya, mate? You deserve the rest, it’ll do you a world of good,’ the gravelly voice replied.
‘What’s a bloody holiday, Bill?’ Ryan replied with a hearty chuckle, the butterflies in his stomach in sharp contrast to his lighthearted tone. ‘I’m sure the old man’s got plenty of things I can do back on the farm. There are a few things I need to catch up with round my place too.’
‘Yeah, tell me about it. I haven’t seen the missus and kids for almost three weeks now. I missed out on Rhiannon’s school awards last night too. It gutted me knowing I couldn’t be there for her. This damn job is going to be the death of me, I tell ya.’
‘It’s a tough gig, hey, old mate, but someone has to do it.’
‘Yeah, and that’s our sorry arses.’ There was a pause for a moment. ‘Hold on, I’ve just passed a hitchhiker. Only seen her at the last minute. Looks like she has a dog too.’
‘I don’t care if she has an elephant with her, I’ll be picking her up, like I do with any female hitchhikers I come across. I don’t know what any of them are thinking, getting into cars with strangers. Haven’t they ever seen the movie Wolf Creek? No woman should be wandering around these parts at night.’
‘Okay, mate, calm your farm.’ Bill chuckled. ‘And I totally agree, Wolf Creek even scared the bejesus out of me. I would have turned around if you weren’t heading her way. Like the wife always says, “You’re one of the good ones, Hunter.”’
‘I don’t know about that. Say hi to Lisa and the whippersnappers for me. I’ll catch you back on the run in four weeks, old mate.’
‘Will do. I’ll miss ya on the roads, Hunter. Take care,’ came the final reply.
Ryan hooked his UHF back up above him as the trucks passed each other, a cloud of dust rising in the space left between them.
He turned his stereo back up, singing the lyrics to the Chris Stapleton tune as he kept his eyes peeled for the woman and her dog. He wondered what she was doing walking round Devils Den, especially at night. The place had been a ghost town for years—the collapse of a nearby mine had seen to that. Hopefully she’d be good company because he wasn’t in the mood for a downer or a weirdo, and he wasn’t going out of his way to take her to where she was going, either. She would just have to be happy with a lift to the next town. After being away for almost three weeks moving cattle from stations to saleyards, he was bone tired, his back ached as though someone had kicked him and he was hankering for a home-cooked meal, which being a bachelor now he was well aware he would be cooking himself. Not that he minded. He’d prefer to take care of himself than have a woman at home who found her pleasures in other men while he was away. Pippa’s face flashed before his eyes. How she could have done what she did to him, especially after the year he’d had, was beyond his comprehension. Regardless, he’d learnt his lesson with her the hard way. Six weeks on and his heart was still red raw.
The flash of something at the side of the road caught his eye. Up ahead the woman waved her arms around, the dog at her side sticking to her like glue. Ryan pulled the big rig over to the side of the lonely stretch of road, hoping he wasn’t about to be mauled by an overprotective canine. Looking in his side mirror, he watched her running towards him with her dog in tow. With legs that seemed to go on forever, a curvy figure that could turn a gay man straight and a shock of long red hair that hung to her waist, Bill wasn’t wrong in saying she shouldn’t be out on this stretch of road. He had never encountered a red-headed woman on his travels and wondered if the whole red hair fiery-nature idea was an old wives’ tale, or was about to be proved true.
Leaning over, he unlocked the passenger door and shoved it open with his boot. The woman’s face appeared as she climbed up the side steps. In a pair of denim shorts and a western-style shirt, along with her cowgirl boots, she looked the part of a ridgey-didge country girl. And her hair, red and long and unruly, gave her a wild edge. But other than her natural beauty, sadly the first thing that struck Ryan was her black eye and cheek, and with his gaze travelling downwards he saw dried blood on a graze to her throat. Rage coursed through him as though someone had thrown a match on petrol. A strong desire to reach out and gently stroke the hurt away overcame him. What sadistic animal would want to hurt such an exquisite person? His very first instinct was to protect her from whoever had done this, at all costs.
‘Hi there.’ Her pearly white smile stole his breath, as did the sprinkle of freckles on her cheeks.
‘Hey there, yourself. Where you headed?’ His voice was raw and rough when he replied. He had to get his adrenaline rush under control. Clearing his throat, he eyed the arrow tattoo on her wrist as she tucked her hair behind her ears. He knew the symbolism of it because he had one himself on the inside of his upper right arm—only by going through dark times can you push yourself to better ones. This girl had seen more than her fair share.
She shrugged casually. Her green eyes dusted with flecks of gold were a heady combination of strength and vulnerability. ‘Wherever you are, I suppose.’
Ryan smiled at her coolness. ‘Well, that would be the township of Moonstone Valley. But I’m guessing, like most, you’ve never heard of it?’
Her eyebrows shot up. ‘Are you serious?’
‘Sure am. Why?’
‘Because that’s exactly where I’m trying to get to.’
Ryan found it a little hard to believe. With a population of just two thousand and fifteen, Moonstone Valley was a hidden gem, a little country town nestled along a pristine coastline kept that way because most people unknowingly by-passed it on the drive to Byron Bay. ‘Are you pulling my leg?’ His voice was thankfully back to normal.
‘Why would I do that?’
‘For a laugh.’
‘To be honest, I’ve had a really bad day so I’m not in the mood for jokes, so no, I’m not pulling your leg.’
The woman tipped her head to the side, her eyes challenging as she waited for his response.
Ryan tried hard to hide his smirk. The fiery red-hair thing had been proved right even before she’d got in the truck. She certainly had fire in her belly. ‘Well, all right then, it’s your lucky day. Climb on in.’
‘Thank you.’ She smiled now, and then hesitated. ‘I’ve got a dog, though. Is that okay?’
‘As long as it’s not going to eat me alive, no probs.’
‘As long as you don’t try any funny business, you should be right.’
He held his hands up as though someone was pointing a gun at him. ‘Fine with me.’
She climbed in, as did her super whiffy pooch that immediately sat at her feet. Ryan pinched his nose and screwed his face up. ‘I hope that’s not you that smells like a rubbish tip.’
‘Nope, it’s definitely Huck.’ She brought her gaze from the dog to him. ‘And so you know, I only just found him. I wouldn’t let my dog get in the state he’s in. It breaks my heart seeing pets abandoned or mistreated. Humans can be so damn cruel. The poor bugger needs some food, a good wash and some loving …’ She reached out and ruffled Huckleberry’s head. ‘Don’t you, buddy?’
Huckleberry’s jowls looked as though he were smiling as he gazed up at his new master.
Ryan’s heart swelled. ‘A hitchhiking woman that will save a stray dog along her way. I have to admit I think I like you already.’
‘Why thankya,’ she replied with a small grin. ‘Although, give me time and I might change your mind about that.’
‘About what?’
‘Liking me.’
Ryan chuckled at her joke but something in her expression, an underlying fragility and a valiant bravado as she struggle
d to hide the pain that had provoked her words, made him want to reach out and hold her. To stop himself he turned his focus to steering the truck back onto the road. ‘A young woman like you shouldn’t be out hitchhiking, especially in the dark, and especially in a place like this.’
‘Why?’
‘Because you never know who could pick you up … there’s a lot of weirdos round here.’ Ryan was fighting to drag his eyes from her so he could watch the highway. He skilfully wrestled with the eighteen gears as he brought the truck up to the allowed hundred kilometres an hour.
‘Oh lordy.’ Matilda rolled her eyes and sighed. ‘Are you going to kill me?’
‘What the …?’ His eyes widened. ‘Sheesh. Talk about not being backward in coming forward.’ He laughed uncomfortably. ‘No is the answer to that.’
‘Good, then lucky you came along and saved me from a terrible fate.’
‘Good way to look at it, I s’pose.’ He rubbed his three-day stubble. ‘How in the heck did you end up wandering around Devils Den in the first place? It’s miles from anywhere by foot.’
‘My four-wheel drive broke down a few hours’ walk from here.’
‘Ah, yeah, now you mention it, I think I passed it. What happened?’
She shrugged. ‘It overheated.’
‘That’s easy fixed.’
‘Maybe, but I haven’t got the money to tow it anywhere so it’ll just have to rust away there.’
Ryan found her willingness to dump her car a little strange, but he wasn’t about to question her motives. ‘Fair enough. Where are you from?’
‘I’d rather not say.’ Her eyelids fluttered shut and her chin lifted. ‘There’s a reason why it’s called the past, and mine needs to stay there.’ Her tone was harsh, almost defensive.
‘Okay, fair enough. Was just trying to make conversation, that’s all.’
She shook her head and looked down to her hands folded in her lap. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. I’ve had a really, really bad day.’