Look away. Except she could no more look away than she could make it rain.
She’d underestimated the impression Saul Armstrong had made when they’d partnered each other in Cressy and Denham’s bridal party last autumn. The first sight of him since he’d returned to Woodlea six weeks ago dried her mouth and unlocked memories she’d battled to repress. The rugged, masculine beauty of his face. The flash of his rare smile. The warmth of his touch at her waist as they’d danced their obligatory waltz. But most of all the empathy in his denim-blue gaze when she thought no one had witnessed her sadness.
A stark realisation followed the flood of recollections. It wasn’t emotional exhaustion after the bushfires that was making her feel on edge. It wasn’t Cressy being pregnant that had unleashed long-buried yearnings. The real reason she’d avoided hanging out with her friends was because their close-knit group had a new member. Saul.
She gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles whitened. She’d never wanted to be aware of a man again. She needed everything to go to plan and to run on time. Never again could her life spiral out of control. Never again could she allow her heart, or her emotions, to render herself vulnerable. For the past five years she’d remained numb and built an impenetrable armour. Then in one night Saul had decimated every defence she held.
He’d done the unthinkable. He’d awoken something deep inside and reminded her that not only could she still feel, but she was also a woman.
Saul Armstrong was expecting a Sunday visitor. He just hadn’t anticipated he’d have two and that they’d be of the cloven-hoofed kind.
The tip-tap of hard hooves on the concrete shed floor warned him before something solid butted the back of his right leg. He straightened from where he was examining the tractor battery and turned to see a pair of brown-and-white goats looking very pleased with themselves.
Just as well his Australian shepherd, Duke, had raced to the front gate when wheels had rattled over the cattle grid. Otherwise his two unexpected guests wouldn’t have been allowed this close to the farmhouse. But these were no feral goats that had wandered out of the bush. They wore red leather collars and he knew exactly where they’d come from. His jaw tightened. Next door.
He scanned the yard to make sure their new owner wasn’t far behind—a blonde and long-legged owner he’d been bracing himself to see. He was sure Ella wouldn’t remember him from Cressy and Denham’s wedding, but he remembered her. She was a hard woman to forget, no matter how much he tried.
When he was sure it was only the goats paying him a visit he looked back at the pair. With their bright amber eyes and floppy, oversized ears they appeared angelic, until the smaller one lifted its head and gave an ear-splitting bleat that echoed throughout the workshop.
He chuckled and scratched between the goat’s tiny horns. ‘Just as well you don’t live outside my bedroom window. I’ve already got guinea fowls who think dawn starts at three in the morning.’
The younger goat bleated again. The strangled sound gave way to the crunch of gravel beneath heavy tyres and Duke’s excited barking. The Australian shepherd made it his mission to race every vehicle that entered Windermere. Except this time he abandoned the challenge to cut across the lawn towards the shed. As soon as he saw the goats, he slowed and lowered himself to the ground.
Saul whistled him to his side. While the earlier head-butt on his leg had been friendly, the way the larger goat was lining up Duke made it clear the Australian shepherd would come off second best.
Duke came over to lean against his legs and he rubbed behind his grey-and-white ears. ‘Easy there. Remember that bighorn sheep you thought you’d stalk …’
A car door closed then Denham entered the shed. He grinned as he glanced between the goats and Duke, who continued to eyeball each other. ‘I thought it was too good to be true I’d won today.’
Saul returned his grin. ‘As usual Duke had you at the first bend.’
The smaller goat made a beeline for Denham and nudged his hand. Denham stroked her white nose. ‘Wonder what Cressy would say if I brought home a goat? You’re actually pretty cute.’
Saul kept his smile in place. He’d been exactly the same when Trish had been pregnant. He and Denham might have ridden bulls on the American pro-rodeo circuit but the prospect of fatherhood had revealed their softer sides. He’d bought Trish a white, fluffy puppy called FiFi that she’d returned to him in their divorce. FiFi had stayed behind in America and now lived with the daughter of a neighbouring rancher who’d been in need of a forever friend.
He made sure his reply sounded light. ‘It wouldn’t be Cressy I’d be concerned about, but Reggie.’
Reggie was a slab-shouldered mountain of a rodeo bull Cressy had raised from a calf. Around Cressy and her older sister, Fliss, Reggie was a carrot-obsessed gentle giant. But to everyone else he was grumpy, disapproving and intimidating.
‘True. But I swear he’s excited as much as we are about this baby. You should see the way he looks at Cressy’s belly.’
Duke pressed closer against Saul’s legs. The Australian shepherd sensed how hard he was working to hide his emotions. Any pregnancy talk only reopened the wounds of all that he’d lost.
To his relief Denham changed the subject. ‘I have time if you want to check the fences to see how these two got in.’
Denham had dropped by to help start the tractor battery that had refused to kick into life even with a jump-start. Despite Saul saying he had everything sorted, Denham had insisted on calling around.
Amusement pushed back the darkness of the past. Denham’s expression and voice had been just a little too eager. ‘What was it that Cressy was having this afternoon?’
‘A baby shower.’
‘Which translates into a house full of women?’
‘Not only that, but Edna will be there. She’s taken on the role of being baby Rigby’s unofficial grandmother and wants to have a talk about whether she needs to help out until we find our feet.’
He knew he shouldn’t laugh at his best mate’s expense but the sheer horror on Denham’s face made him chuckle. He’d only met chatty and forceful Edna twice but that was enough to know having her around at such a time wasn’t the best idea.
He slapped Denham’s back. ‘Let’s take a long look at the fences. Then I’m sure we’ll need a swim and a cold beer.’
They headed towards the side-by-side gator parked at the shed entrance and the goats followed. Duke trotted at Saul’s boot heels, not taking his attention off their two visitors. When the goats went outside to the overgrown lawn beside the water tank, Duke hesitated before jumping onto the back of the gator.
Denham slid into the passenger seat. ‘No need to work out where your tank’s leaking.’
In the sea of parched brown the vivid green stood out like the bright red plume of a fox’s tail in the snow. Saul took the driver’s seat. ‘I know. Otherwise I’d have been digging for hours.’
Knee-deep in grass, the goats would be content mowing his lawn while they found out how they’d breached the boundary fence.
He started the gator engine and followed the track that led past the substantial brick home and large shed that had once housed an indoor dressage arena. The property had been an equestrian centre and he’d made full use of the infrastructure to build his state-of-the-art bison facilities.
‘It’s hard to believe,’ Denham said, looking around, ‘you’ve only been here six weeks.’
Saul ignored the twinge on his right side from an old rodeo injury. His body hadn’t appreciated working from dawn to dusk every day of those six weeks. ‘I’ve had some help with the fences.’
‘They’re pretty impressive.’
Saul slowed the gator as they neared an open gateway. In the powdery dust there were tiny hoof prints. The goats had reached his house via this laneway.
‘Yes, the fencing guys did a great job. Though I’m sure they thought I had heatstroke when I showed them the plans.’
‘I can see why.
There’s enough wire here to run a fence to Sydney.’
Saul had made sure that the boundary fence was high as well as electrified by several wires. Then, with space for bison to fan out as they didn’t like to travel in single file, he’d run a parallel fence to form a laneway. This too was taller than a regular fence and marked the edge of the various paddocks. He’d wanted a second boundary fence for the exact reason why he now had goats munching in his garden. One fence could be compromised. Two couldn’t.
As they drove along the laneway, Ella’s sandstone home, with its tin roof and neat country garden, came into full view. When he went for a ride in the cool evenings the breeze would carry the scent of water from the automatic lawn sprinklers.
Denham cast him a quick sideways look. ‘Seen much of Ella?’
Saul kept his grip on the steering wheel relaxed. ‘Not since your wedding.’
‘I thought as much.’ Denham frowned at the farmhouse. ‘Cressy and Fliss are worried about her. It’s always been Ella dragging them off to every possible social event, now they rarely see her.’
Saul only nodded. Denham knew him too well. He couldn’t risk his old friend sensing he’d been thankful that the local vet had kept to herself since she’d moved in three weeks ago.
He resisted the urge to flex his shoulders. He was still coming to terms with the irony that the one person he was wary of seeing was his new neighbour. At Denham’s wedding it wasn’t Ella’s blonde beauty that unnerved him as much as what she fought so hard to hide. He recognised untold anguish and suffering. He saw it in his reflection every morning. He also knew the strength and tenacity it took to present a facade of normalcy. Ella Quinlivan was special. She was also someone he needed to stay away from.
He’d come home to Australia and to Woodlea for a fresh start. He couldn’t now have Ella hold up a mirror to the hurt he was determined to leave behind. Denham didn’t even know the real story behind why his marriage had failed. Instinct told him that instead of helping each other, he and Ella would expose and compound each other’s pain. Neither one would want the other knowing the reality of what lay beneath their hard-won control.
Denham pointed ahead. ‘There’s your problem.’
A section of the large gum tree on Ella’s side of the fence had broken away and fallen on the wire. Today, the breeze that sucked all the moisture from their skin was hot and sedate, but yesterday it had been fierce and unrelenting, whipping up the dust and testing tree branches. While the solid and heavy limb hadn’t crushed the fence completely, it had provided the perfect bridge for nimble-footed goats.
Denham’s grin was gleeful. ‘This will take a while.’ He took his phone from the pocket of his navy work shirt. ‘I’ll text Cressy and also Ella to let her know we’ll have to go through her place.’
Denham’s prediction proved true. After returning to the work shed to jump-start the tractor off Saul’s F-truck, driving the registered tractor along the road to Ella’s front gate and dragging the branch away from the fence, the day’s heat had peaked. By the time the fence again stood strong and tall, the afternoon shadows were casting long footprints across the undulating hills.
‘Please tell me you have beer in that shed fridge of yours.’ Denham passed his sleeve over his forehead, having just loaded the final piece of the firewood he’d cut into the gator.
Saul shook his head. Denham groaned. Saul whistled to Duke. ‘Only in the house fridge under the air-con.’
‘Now you’re talking.’
But it wasn’t until they’d opened the small gate at the bottom of the garden and led the goats to where they belonged that they were finally done. While they walked back across the narrow paddock that divided the two farms, Saul listened out for the sound of a vehicle. Ella would be home soon.
When he closed the garden gate behind them, he released a silent breath. It was inevitable that his and Ella’s paths would cross but it would now be later rather than sooner. He’d continue to have time to prepare himself.
Cold air embraced him as he stepped through the back kitchen door. As much as his new farm looked inhabited with machinery in the shed, Cisco in the stables and bison in the paddocks, the house was still a work in progress. Tea chests sat stacked in the hallway and rooms lay empty. He sidestepped a pile of boxes on the way to the fridge. He was in no rush to unpack anything but the bare essentials. He hadn’t come here to make a home. He’d come to make his dreams of breeding bison a reality.
He cracked open two beers to the sound of a large splash. Denham was already in the pool. He took a swig of icy beer before shrugging off his shirt so he could also take a swim. As for the dreams he’d once held that involved having a woman to grow old with and a family to love, they were now nothing more than the red dust that coated his boots.
CHAPTER
2
The cicadas in the gum trees behind the vet surgery were already synchronised in a steady drone when Ella arrived for work early Monday. The breeze was a warm wash across her skin and the sky a cloudless cobalt blue. As hot as the summer days were, she loved the cool tranquillity of the quiet mornings. After she pottered in the garden, with a little weeding help from Cinnamon and Nutmeg, she’d take a walk before getting ready for work.
The injured thoroughbred was no longer at the stables to greet her. The bay gelding had been given the all-clear to return home on Saturday. She opened the surgery door to the welcome rush of chilled air, the smell of antiseptic and a chorus of loud barking. The stables might be empty but the kennel room was occupied by what sounded like at least three patients. Claire had been the on-call weekend vet and had been busy.
Ella bent to pat Oscar, the vet surgery cat, as he curled himself around her jean-clad legs. Next weekend the ginger cat would be keeping her company while she was on call. Having to work had given her the perfect excuse to not go to Dubbo with Fliss and Taylor. She hadn’t missed Fliss’s sideways glances at yesterday’s baby shower. Even though she’d now realised Saul was behind her feeling so on edge, she still couldn’t explain to Fliss, or anyone else, why she’d been distant.
She continued to scratch beneath Oscar’s chin. His appreciative purr failed to lighten her thoughts. Any explanation, even a simple one, would only lead to a need for more explanations. No one fully knew her reasons for not being interested in a relationship. From day one she’d been careful to stick to the abbreviated version of her past, which was that she’d had her heart broken while working overseas. The strict hold she kept over her life meant that all the finer details, especially the pain and the guilt, remained locked away. Her brother was another part of her life that she never talked about. It was just easier to keep her emotions in order that way.
She straightened and walked along the hallway. At least now she knew Cressy’s pregnancy wasn’t the reason for her biological clock going haywire, she’d been able to enjoy the baby shower. As for her maternal yearnings, they’d just have to be content with cuddling Cressy and Denham’s tiny bundle of cuteness when he or she arrived early winter.
Her steps light, she turned into the treatment room where she could hear Penny talking on the phone. The young brunette receptionist ended the call and gave her a sunny smile. ‘Morning. Hope you had a big breakfast.’
Ella returned her smile. Penny’s enthusiasm was infectious. ‘What’s up?’
‘Let’s just say ten minutes ago your job list was shorter by two cancelled appointments, but now … lucky you get to go out to the new bison farm everyone’s talking about.’
She failed to stop herself from stiffening. A thick band wrapped around her chest and pulled tight. Lucky wasn’t exactly a word she’d use to describe herself right now.
‘I’m not sure it’s the bison farm everyone’s been talking about.’
Penny giggled. ‘True. Sally keeps everyone up to date about when Saul comes into the café. I mean … have you seen him?’
If only she could have answered no and saved herself countless sleepless nights. ‘Briefly at
Cressy and Denham’s wedding.’
‘Do you think he’s an Aussie or an American?’
She half turned towards where the keys for the vet vehicle hung on the wall. ‘Aussie. He just sounds American sometimes because he’s lived over there.’
‘He doesn’t wear a ring.’
Ella took hold of the keys. It had been the second thing she’d noticed about him. ‘Neither does Denham when he’s working on the farm.’
Penny’s brow furrowed. ‘If Saul did have someone, they’d have joined him by now.’
Ella only nodded. Even though she shouldn’t have been thinking about Saul, she’d also wondered the same thing. What she wasn’t going to share was her belief that he’d once had someone significant in his life. When Cressy and Denham had said their vows, a muscle had worked in the grim line of his jaw. She’d also seen him rub the spot where a ring would have been on his left hand. Twice.
Penny spoke again. ‘I said you’d head out straight away. It sounds like one of his young bison needs her shoulder stitched.’
The surgery phone rang. Penny beamed a make-sure-you-tell-me-all-about-him smile before speaking into her headset. Ella gave her a quick wave before heading out into the heat.
Once in the vet ute she released a tense breath and started the engine.
You’ve got this. He’ll have no idea who you are.
Her bravado lasted the drive out of town and until she crossed Windermere’s cattle grid. Then, her big breakfast didn’t prove an advantage. Between her full stomach and nerves, her midriff felt as though it were stuck on the spin cycle of her washing machine. She didn’t know what concerned her more, Saul again seeing her vulnerable side or her personal life affecting her professionalism.
But when she spotted a grey-and-white dappled dog from out her left window, racing her along the driveway, a smile eased her strain. As a child, animals had always brought her joy, and they still did. The excited dog had to be an Australian shepherd, a breed that despite its name originated on ranches in the western states of America.
The Boundary Fence (A Woodlea Novel, #7) Page 2