The Red Dirt Road

by Alissa Callen

  CHAPTER

  6

  ‘Men.’ Fliss sighed.

  Beside her, Ella checked her rear-view mirror. ‘I take it we’re only talking about one man?’

  ‘Yes. A frustrating, obstinate man who is in so much pain his skin tone would be the colour of concrete if he wasn’t so tanned.’

  Ella threw her a quick look. ‘There’s a reason why you’re the doctor. I honestly never noticed. If anything, I thought Hewitt looked … good.’

  Fliss fought the telltale warmth in her cheeks. Hewitt always looked more than good, especially with only his jeans on. ‘That’s the thing he does, until you really look at him. He’s a master at hiding his pain. I’ve dealt with many difficult patients but Hewitt remains … unreachable.’

  Water splashed as the vet drove through a pool of water across the track. ‘I’ve only just met him but from what I’ve seen, he’s not like the men you’re used to dealing with.’

  Fliss sighed again. Ella had moved to small town Woodlea five years ago and in that time her close friendship with Cressy meant that she’d been privy to Fliss’s relationship disasters—the last one having involved a work colleague who was waylaid by the cleavage of his blonde intern while Fliss was in London.

  ‘True, but even then I don’t know why I feel out of my depth. I’ve never had any trouble making sure Denham received medical help, and he has a will as strong as cattle-yard steel.’

  Ella glanced at her. The usual light in her brown eyes had dimmed. ‘Take it from me, don’t give up on Hewitt. Not that I’m saying you’re motivated by anything other than wanting to help him, but sometimes the easy path ends up being the hardest.’

  From the brief details Ella had let slip over the years, Fliss had gathered that Ella had had her heart broken while working overseas. Much to the dismay of the single men of the district, she still chose to keep her heart safe.

  Fliss reached over to squeeze her hand. ‘I won’t. For all his stubbornness, Hewitt’s a decent guy. By the time he leaves Bundara that broken shoulder of his won’t give him any more trouble.’

  This time when Ella looked across at her, her eyes were again a vibrant brown. ‘Does Cressy know you think Hewitt’s a decent guy? That’s not a word I think I’ve ever heard you use to describe someone of the opposite sex.’

  Fliss laughed to cover her self-consciousness. What Ella said was true. She usually described a man in terms of how well their work schedules fitted together. ‘I’m sure she does. After all, Hewitt’s still here.’

  Ella’s own laughter followed Fliss as she jumped out to open the double gates. Fliss knew Ella was thinking back to a blind date at the Royal Arms. When Cressy and Ella arrived to see how the date was going, the man had pushed past them on his way out. He hadn’t appreciated Fliss’s direct questions about what he expected after their date or her view that women should be heard and not just seen. Cressy’s tip for any future date had been to not wear heels that could serve as a lethal weapon.

  For the rest of the drive to the homestead Fliss and Ella relived memories when sky-high heels had resulted in wardrobe malfunctions and lawn aeration.

  When Ella met Bundara’s most recent guests she agreed with Hewitt’s assessment that the dog and her puppies were purebred border collies. She confirmed that mum and all six babies were doing well.

  ‘You’re such a sweet mamma,’ Ella said as she passed the microchip scanner over the border collie’s neck. ‘Let’s see if you’re microchipped.’ She paused to check the small screen. ‘And you are. Great.’ Ella looked across to where Fliss stood at the shed doorway. ‘I’ll check with the national database when I’m back at the surgery and let you know what I find.’

  ‘Thanks. I’m sure there’s a logical explanation why she’s out here.’ The new mother nuzzled one of the puppies to make sure it stayed close against her side. ‘No one in their right mind would dump her.’

  Ella gave the border collie a farewell pat.

  Fliss stepped away from the doorway. ‘I’m already not looking forward to seeing them go. I’ve forgotten how nice it is to have a dog.’

  ‘Anytime you’re ready for a furry friend just let me know.’ Ella joined Fliss outside. ‘Unfortunately, I know of some dogs in need of a loving home.’

  Fliss nodded and turned away. She couldn’t let Ella see how much the thought of taking on the responsibility of a pet overwhelmed her. She wouldn’t be ready for a fur-kid of any kind until anxiety no longer controlled her. She couldn’t spend a summer fearing the worst every time a dog barked.

  As a child she’d lost her beloved Jack Russell to a western brown snake. The trauma still haunted her. Midge had been bitten while protecting Fliss and Cressy as they’d played in the sprinkler. She’d returned to check they were okay and when Fliss had hugged her, she’d collapsed. The brave Jack Russell had received a lethal dose of venom and no amount of anti-venom or prayers had saved her.

  Once Ella had headed off to see her next client, Fliss went inside. The hum of the electric kettle grew louder as she settled herself at the table to check her emails. The screensaver on her laptop was a picture of her and Cressy with their mother, taken before her parents’ Tasmanian trip. Normally the sight of the three of them hugging triggered happy memories. But today only thoughts of Hewitt filled her head.

  Hewitt wasn’t technically her patient, but as she’d said to Ella there was no way she’d give up on him, no matter how much he continued to weather his pain or refuse her help. When he came back she’d take over her first-aid kit and see if he needed anything.

  The kettle clicked off and still Fliss stared at her laptop screen. She was used to the way men behaved around Ella. Their voices deepened and they hooked their thumbs in their jeans pockets. Yet Hewitt had appeared unaffected by the vet’s blonde beauty. When he’d glanced at Fliss as though to say he hadn’t forgotten she was there, she’d felt a bone-deep relief. The man she’d been spending time with was the man she thought he was. Honourable and levelheaded, Hewitt wouldn’t be distracted by a pretty face, even one as lovely as Ella’s.

  Fliss opened her inbox. There was an email from Lewis, letting her know Jean had been admitted to hospital and that he’d call tonight with an update.

  Hewitt’s ute engine rumbled and tyres crunched on gravel. Fliss finished off her email to Lewis, then, with the first-aid kit in her hands, headed across the garden to see Hewitt.

  This time when she knocked, the wooden door didn’t immediately open. When it did, deep lines were carved beside Hewitt’s mouth. ‘Is this a house call?’

  ‘I know you said you were fine, but in case you’ve run out of painkillers, I’ve brought some over.’

  For a moment she thought Hewitt would insist he was okay, but then a muscle flicked in his jaw and he stepped aside to let her in.

  ‘I haven’t exactly run out. I can’t find any. I’m sure I threw a box in my bag when I left hospital.’

  Fliss shook her head as she walked past him into the stone stables. ‘How did I know you hadn’t been taking anything?’

  ‘Because I’m male and a conformist, remember?’

  She smiled and sat the first-aid kit on the kitchen bench.

  What the stables lacked in space, it made up for in charm. A small window in the fully-equipped kitchen looked out over the paddocks, while overhead thick beams paid homage to its practical past. Exposed bluestone walls added colour and texture and a wooden staircase curled its way up to the bedroom and bathroom on the second storey.

  When she’d bought Bundara she’d originally planned to live in the cosy stables, but there was something about the vast, unfinished main house that spoke to the emptiness within her. She too was a work in progress.

  Fliss rummaged through the first-aid kit. She placed a small box on the bench and turned towards Hewitt. He leaned against the table, his arms loosely folded. His casual position didn’t fool her. His mouth was set and his jaw tight.

  ‘Okay, Mr Conformist, can I please take a loo
k at this shoulder of yours? I’ll need you to take your shirt off.’

  Again his response surprised her. He tensed but unfolded his arms. As his fingers flicked open the first button of his blue shirt to reveal the strong, tanned column of his throat, she made the mistake of looking into his eyes. Sometimes a clear grey, other times a dawn-grey, they now shone like polished pewter.

  Reality fell away. All she could feel was the pull of attraction. All she could hear was the drumbeat of her heart loud in her ears. Hewitt’s fingers stilled on the second button. His attention fastened on her mouth. Her lips parted and she readied herself to lean forwards to meet him halfway.

  As if from a great distance away, an electronic gurgling sound brought the world back into focus. She blinked, her bearings disoriented and her breathing shallow.

  Hewitt moved to touch the screen of the laptop resting on the table behind him. The bubbling sound subsided to be replaced by a child’s voice.

  ‘Hi, Uncle Hewy. Were you with the puppies? I tried to call earlier. I’ve thought of some names.’

  Hewitt flashed Fliss a look so raw and intense her breath caught. He too had been thrown by what had surged between them.

  He eased himself into the seat in front of the computer. ‘Hi, munchkin.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Sorry. I was out helping deliver a calf.’

  ‘That’s okay. Quinn said you’d probably got your ute bogged.’

  The husky depths of Hewitt’s chuckle strummed across Fliss’s tightly drawn senses. She swung away to pick up the box of painkillers from the bench. The tenderness and affection in Hewitt’s voice reached a part of her she always kept off limits.

  She collected a glass from a low cupboard and filled it with water. After pressing out two tablets, she sat the glass and painkillers on the corner of the kitchen table. She thought she’d stayed out of the camera’s range until Lizzie’s voice questioned, ‘Who’s that?’

  Fliss backed away and mouthed, ‘Sorry.’

  Hewitt carefully shifted his chair back and motioned for her to come closer. He spoke, his voice low. ‘I’m the one who’s sorry. Edna has nothing on Little Miss Lizzie. You’re about to be interrogated.’

  Fliss bent so Lizzie would see her face and not just the red of her shirt. ‘Hi, Lizzie. I’m Fliss.’

  Lizzie stared at her. Big grey eyes, similar in colour to Hewitt’s, assessed her. ‘You’re pretty.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  Lizzie continued to examine her. ‘Quinn, there’s someone here with Uncle Hewy. It’s a lady. So do you like the name Poppy for a puppy?’

  ‘Yes, I do. Especially if the puppy is a girl. It’d be a bit strange for a boy.’

  Lizzie giggled and her red curls danced as she turned to speak to someone on her left. ‘Quinn, hurry up. Come and meet Fliss. She’s nice. Not like that other lady Uncle Hewy brought home who hated cats.’

  Hewitt groaned softly. ‘I learned the hard way that Lizzie and Quinn don’t always approve of my dates.’

  Fliss smiled at the camera. She already liked bossy Little Miss Lizzie. A boy’s face appeared. He shared his twin’s pale skin and auburn hair, but worry overshadowed the brightness of his grey eyes. Fliss’s heart melted.

  ‘Hi, Quinn. I’m Fliss. Thanks for letting your uncle come and help me on my farm. He’ll be back home soon.’

  Quinn nodded but didn’t speak. The furrow of concern between his brows eased.

  ‘So what other puppy names do you like?’ asked Lizzie.

  ‘I like lots of names, but not Gertrude or Percival or Rufus.’

  Lizzie laughed and Quinn gave a slow smile.

  Fliss continued. ‘But I’m not a name expert so I’ll leave it up to you and Quinn to choose. I’d better go check on the puppies and let you keep talking to your uncle.’

  With a wave, Fliss stepped out of camera range. Hewitt’s dark eyes held hers before he leaned forwards to answer Lizzie’s question about how many girl and boy puppies there were.

  Once outside the stables, Fliss paused to let the cool breeze strip the warmth from her face. She wasn’t sure what had just happened between her and Hewitt. But whatever it was, no amount of ground rules were going to keep her safe. They gave her as much protection as a saline placebo injection. Restless and on edge, she headed inside the main house and flicked on the kettle. She was well past having a cup of tea. It was chocolate and sugar she needed.

  While the water boiled, she checked to see if Lewis had replied to her email. But the only message in her inbox was from the company she and Cressy had tested their DNA through. Cressy’s results had already arrived and hadn’t contained any long-lost relatives. Fliss followed the link to her own results. As expected, Cressy was the only match listed as an extremely high chance of being close family. Now it would be a matter of sifting through the other matches and compiling a family tree to identify the unknown links on their mother’s side.

  As Fliss sipped her hot chocolate, she searched for another DNA site she remembered from her university days. While the raw data from her DNA results uploaded, she looked for puppy names to keep one step ahead of Little Miss Lizzie. Once her DNA was processed she scanned the list of results. She now had more in-depth numerical data and could switch between autosomal and X-DNA matches.

  She suddenly lowered her mug. Attention never leaving the list of matches in front of her, she opened another webpage to find a centimorgan chart that showed the average number of centimorgans shared between relatives. She hadn’t even finished reading the first two boxes when she reached for her phone. Breathing fast, she waited for Meredith to answer.

  After three rings, her well-spoken voice sounded. ‘Hi, Fliss. I was only just thinking about you.’

  ‘Hi.’ Fliss swallowed. ‘My DNA results are back.’

  The almost imperceptible intake of breath at the other end of the phone confirmed that Meredith’s gentle encouragement hadn’t been to rekindle Fliss’s interest in medicine. Meredith had suspected that their DNA results would contain a secret.

  ‘You knew?’ Fliss’s pained words were little more than a whisper.

  ‘I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I was hoping it wasn’t true. I didn’t know. Not for sure. Every time I see the son I thought I’d lost, I’m reminded that secrets only ever bring heartache. Your mother always believed in the truth and if she hadn’t died when she did, I’ve no doubt she would have told you. How did Cressy react?’

  ‘She doesn’t know. Not yet. She’s only glanced at her results and wouldn’t know the significance of the centimorgans.’ Fliss’s voice cracked as shock hit her square in her midriff. ‘She wouldn’t know that we share the same mother … but not the same father.’

  Hewitt closed the lid of his laptop and took his time easing himself out of the chair. He swallowed the two tablets Fliss had left and as he placed the glass on the table a car engine started. Ignoring the fire in his shoulder, he tugged on his boots and headed outside. Guilt weighted his steps. He only hoped that their almost-kiss hadn’t rattled Fliss as much as it had him. And if it had, he needed to make things right. He couldn’t have her driving out on the slick back roads just to put some space between them.

  He caught a glimpse of her grim expression and his gut clenched. But as she drove alongside him, she stopped and wound down her window.

  He spoke first. ‘Is everything okay?’

  She didn’t look at him. ‘I need to see Cressy.’

  ‘Fliss, I’m sorry about earlier. The last thing you need right now are complications, and we both know I was about to kiss you.’

  ‘I’m sorry too.’ She briefly glanced at him. ‘We both know I was going to kiss you back. But I’m not leaving because of what almost happened between us.’ This time her eyes met his for longer. ‘And what wasn’t the most well-considered of plans.’

  He nodded, fighting hard to keep his expression from changing. Even though Fliss was right, his testosterone wasn’t so eager to agree. Hair had escaped her ponytail and fallen across her cheek. H
e curled his fingers into a fist to stop himself reaching through the window and tucking the silken strands behind her ear.

  She again stared through the windscreen, her back straight and shoulders hunched. ‘It’s … family stuff.’

  ‘Okay. Take my ute. It can handle the mud.’

  She bit her full bottom lip. Indecision flashed across her face, quickly followed by apprehension. ‘I’d … forgotten the roads will be wet.’

  Hewitt didn’t reply. He needed to give Fliss space. Something had upset her, and it hadn’t been a minor thing. But at the same time his need to make sure she arrived at Cressy’s safely hammered at his temples. The thought of anything happening to her made the blood rush too fast through his veins.

  ‘I’m really not comfortable driving your ute. I know your shoulder’s not great but you don’t want to come and see Denham, do you? It’s really important I see Cressy as soon as possible.’

  ‘I’ll come. There’s a plough Denham needs help fixing.’

  The relief that relaxed her mouth thanked him even before her quiet ‘Thank you.’

  It was no surprise that the trip to Glenmore started without any conversation. Fliss appeared deep in thought and he didn’t want to pry. He also needed a chance to get himself under control. The need to reach for her hand to comfort her had him clamping his fingers around the steering wheel. There’d already been one close call today.

  After they’d crossed the white wooden bridge, she spoke in a low voice. ‘I thought life was done messing with me.’

  He glanced at her drawn face. ‘It will be soon. Life just seems incapable of delivering a single hit.’

  She sighed. ‘So I’m not the only one.’ Compassion softened the tense line of her mouth. ‘Anything I can help with?’

  He shot her a smile to lighten the mood. Now was the worst possible time to go into the guilt keeping him awake at night. ‘You’ve already done more than enough by letting me stay.’

  She didn’t return his smile. ‘Does this other thing have anything to do with Brody?’

  Hewitt chose his words carefully. ‘Life can deliver hit after hit, but it can also deliver good thing after good thing. Brody may no longer be here but his memory lives on in Quinn and Lizzie.’