Chapter 9
The soft buzz of her alarm barely had a chance to hum before Brianna’s eyes opened.
Dawn hadn’t fully broken yet, but her body was already in work mode.
Years of studying, late-night emergencies, and early-morning callouts had conditioned her internal clock.
Feeling as if she’d hardly slept a wink, she groaned as she reached for her phone, silencing the alarm before it disturbed the stillness.
Before it disturbed Molly, who she hoped was still sleeping.
Sherlock, curled like a question mark on the edge of the bed, lifted his head and gave a soft whine.
‘You’re not joining me today, my mate,’ she murmured, brushing her fingertip over his silken head. ‘I need you to stay home, so you can keep an eye on Molly, make sure she’s nice and safe.’
He huffed as if to say he had already planned to.
‘Thanks, bud, I know I can always count on you.’
He barked a short, sharp response, then offered her his adorable doggy smile.
Chuckling at their conversation, she threw back the covers and climbed from the bed.
Sherlock followed, executing a downward dog pose like a yoga pro, before turning in dizzying circles – his way of letting her know he needed to pee, sooner rather than later.
So, quickly grabbing her robe, she tugged it over her pyjamas and padded down the hallway, with Sherlock’s nails click-clicking on the timber floorboards behind her.
She was glad to see Molly’s bedroom door was still shut, and no light was sneaking out from beneath it.
They had sat up until close to midnight, their hands cradled around hot cups of Milo, and Molly would need her sleep before dealing with the ordeals of the day.
There was certainly a lot to do to get Chapter One back up and running by the next week, but Molly was hell bent on doing just that so she could prove she wouldn’t let bullies ruin the business she’d put her heart and soul into.
Forty-five minutes later, after stopping off in the kitchen for some peanut butter on toast and a nice strong coffee, and now fresh out of the shower, Brianna pulled on her jeans, boots and the navy shirt embroidered with her Sweetwater Veterinary Clinic logo.
Her movements were quiet but purposeful as she contemplated her appointments.
Although she’d like to have a day off to help Molly, sick animals couldn’t wait.
Even though she tried to focus on her work, the horrible events of the day before still clung to her like thick smoke.
The damage to the café, the fear in Molly’s voice as she’d poured her heart out, and the way Hayden’s eyes had hardened at the mention of the anonymous blackmail.
Then there was all the stuff about her dead brother, Jack.
His gambling. His debts passed on like cursed heirlooms. It all weighed heavily upon her heart and left her feeling helpless for a woman she wanted nothing more but to help.
Padding back into the kitchen, she filled her two-litre water bottle and scribbled a note for Molly.
Morning, lovely. Sherlock’s staying home to keep you company. There’s banana bread in the fridge and fruit in the veggie drawer. Be back around four. Please call me if you need anything. B. xx
She left the note on the counter and, needing to know Molly was safe and sound before she went out, she tiptoed back down the hallway, eased the guest bedroom door open a crack, then peeked in.
Molly was still sleeping, curled beneath the messed-up doona with only a slice of her auburn hair visible above the pillow.
Smiling softly, Brianna quietly backed into the hall and carefully shut the door.
Heading towards the front door, she paused to address Sherlock. ‘Right, buddy, you’re officially on duty now, okay? No chasing birds or hiding underneath the house. Molly needs you to be alert, and by her side at all times.’
He wagged his tail once in acknowledgment before padding over to lie by Molly’s door. Brianna stood for a heartbeat, then another, watching her best mate do his darndest to look after the people that mattered. Gee whizz, she loved him so much.
Outside, she loaded her vet bag into her trusty four-wheel drive, then climbed behind the wheel and turned the key.
The Hilux coughed to life, then grunted perfectly, just like a diesel engine should.
Her first stop was a calving just outside town.
Then a suspected case of laminitis. Then two routine vaccinations.
On the books, it was a day like any other.
Except it wasn’t. Not anymore. Not until the person, or persons, behind Molly’s blackmailing were stopped.
And as she went about her day, she tried to push this to the back of her mind, because the animals she was attending deserved her full attention, and before she knew it the sun had begun its slow descent across the Sweetwater horizon, and she was heading home again.
She pulled up in her usual spot then cleared the front steps two at a time.
Sherlock raced through the front door when she swung it open, bouncing excitedly around her as she dumped her muddy boots at the door.
‘Hey, buddy.’ She ruffled his head. ‘It’s good to see you, too.’
Inside, Molly was sitting at the dining table, looking more like herself – still pale, still quieter than usual, but upright, dressed, and sipping tea like it held all the answers in the world.
‘Hey,’ Brianna said, smiling gently.
Molly looked up and smiled as if she was trying to mirror Brianna’s expression. ‘Hey, Brianna. How was your day?’
‘Long. But good. Calves were born. Shots were given. Horses didn’t kick me in the head.’ She leant against the bench and shrugged. ‘A win all round.’
Molly managed a small laugh. ‘That’s a pretty low bar for a win, Bri.’
‘Hey, I’ll take what I can get.’ Brianna tipped her head towards her. ‘So, what about you? How did your day pan out?’
Molly let out a slow breath, her fingers curling around her mug.
‘I rang the insurance company again, got put on hold for forty minutes, only to be told the same thing as yesterday, that they’ll be in touch.
Not exactly the reassurance I was hoping for.
’ She shook her head, then glanced down at Sherlock, who’d settled by her feet.
‘Spent a bit of time on the verandah with this guy. He’s been keeping close. ’
Brianna’s eyes softened. ‘Yeah, he takes his assignments seriously.’
Molly reached down to scratch Sherlock’s ears. ‘He’s good company. Better than I am at the moment, that’s for sure.’
‘Don’t sell yourself short.’ Brianna pushed off the bench, moving closer. ‘You showed up for yourself today, even if it didn’t feel like it.’
Molly hesitated, then a spark of something brighter lit her face.
‘Actually, I did make a couple of positive calls, to some of the local tradies, and a few of them offered to help get the café back up and running. Said they’d chip in their labour for free or at cost. Just to help me get on my feet again. ’
Brianna’s chest warmed. ‘That’s bloody fantastic, Moll. This town really does look after its own.’
‘Yeah, mostly,’ Molly said, her voice softening. ‘And it means more than I can say.’
‘That’s because you’ve given a lot to them too,’ Brianna reminded her.
Molly ducked her head, looking a little overwhelmed, then took another sip of tea. ‘Maybe. But I still feel like I’m holding my breath all the time.’
‘That’s okay,’ Brianna said gently. ‘We’ll get through it. One breath at a time.’ After a moment, she added, ‘I invited Hayden over for dinner. Thought we could talk through things more, you know, see if anything jogs your memory or connects some dots.’
Molly nodded, her expression a mix of relief and apprehension. ‘I’d like that. Thank you.’
With the sun setting in apricot hues behind the trees, Brianna moved through the kitchen, measuring flour with one hand while stirring a rich tomato sauce with the other.
Sherlock watched her every move from his post near the door, nose twitching each time she opened a spice jar.
She’d opted for something hearty, fettuccine from scratch, just like her mum had taught her, served with a rich half-beef, half-pork ragu and a rustic garlic loaf she’d picked up from the bakery earlier that day.
She didn’t cook as often as she’d like to, especially now she was only cooking for one, but it helped her to unwind.
It gave her something to control, to perfect, in a world that was otherwise riddled with unknowns and half-truths at the moment.
And yet, unlike every other time she’d made this meal, her mind wasn’t on the pasta or the seasonings.
It was on Hayden.
An hour later she caught herself glancing at the clock again.
She wasn’t dressing up, she wasn’t that kind of girl, but she’d changed out of her work shirt, washed the dirt and dust from her face, and pulled her hair back in a low, effortless braid.
This wasn’t a date. She kept telling herself that.
It was dinner. A discussion. A plan to help Molly.
Still, the way her pulse kicked a little when she heard a vehicle pull into the driveway was unmistakable.
She pressed a palm to her heart and whispered to herself, ‘Calm your farm, Brianna Steele, it’s just dinner.’
When she opened the door, Hayden stood there, a bottle of red wine in hand, and that same soft expression he always wore when, she surmised, he wasn’t sure whether to smile or worry. Tonight, it was a bit of both.
‘Hey, Bri, I hope I’m not late,’ he said.
‘No, not at all. You’re right on time,’ she replied, stepping aside. ‘Come on in.’
Back inside, the scent of simmering tomatoes, fresh garlic and warm bread wrapped around them. Bustling over, Sherlock greeted him like an old friend, tail wagging, nose pressed against his thigh.
‘I reckon someone smells dinner,’ Hayden said, scratching behind Sherlock’s ears.