Chapter 13
Brianna woke with dawn sunlight slanting across her bed and a familiar ache in her chest, the kind that always settled in after a night full of almosts.
She could still feel the heat of Hayden’s body near hers, the way his gaze had dropped to her mouth, the breathless second where the world had narrowed to a single choice he didn’t make.
She shouldn’t care. In reality, she barely knew him.
And yet …
She rubbed her hands over her face and swung her legs out of bed, irritation flaring at herself as she rose, nursing a hangover.
Padding across the room, she caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror – hair a wild tumble, and her favourite animal-patterned pyjamas skewed, the top twisted at one shoulder, one shorts leg hiked up.
A mess, she thought, snorting softly.
A lust-sick, ridiculous mess.
She headed down the hallway with Sherlock in tow.
By the time she’d let him out for his morning duties and made coffee strong enough to wake the dead, the sharp edge of her headache had dulled, replaced by the rhythm of organising her workday, eagerly planning each of her visits to animals in need.
It was nice to not have any jobs on until eleven, but that left her here, twiddling her thumbs.
And the echoing quiet didn’t bring peace, only space for her thoughts to loop back over what hadn’t happened.
Why hadn’t he kissed her? Was it restraint?
Doubt? Or something else entirely? And why had she wanted him to?
She still wanted him to. It made her stomach knot in a way that annoyed her, because she wasn’t some lovelorn teenager. She was a woman with a career mission.
Still, the ache lingered as she moved through her morning chores more slowly than usual, letting her hands work on instinct while her mind wandered to places she wished it wouldn’t.
Just over an hour later, she was settling back at the kitchen table with her Vegemite on toast and a glass of orange juice when her phone buzzed with a new message.
Grabbing it, she smiled when she saw the sender was Tilly.
Hey, lovely! How about brunch at Chapter One? Friday, if you aren’t already booked up with work? Just us girls. I really enjoyed last night. So much! You’re good company, Bri. I mean that. T xx
Unexpected, simple and warm, the message grounded her as she smiled, and texted back.
Hey, Till, I wouldn’t miss it for the world. Meet you there at ten-ish?
Perfect, I drop the kids to day care at 9.30. Can’t wait! T xx
Feeling a little lighter, a little happier, although not any less antsy, she finished her breakfast then tidied the cottage some more, wiping down the already-clean counters and straightening the throw rug in the lounge even though it wasn’t askew.
She checked her vet bag, topping up her hand sanitiser, restocking syringes and double-checking her remaining antibiotic vials.
When there was truly nothing else left to fuss over, she rinsed out her coffee cup and set it carefully in the rack, as if neatness might scrub away unrest. She wandered back through the narrow hallway, brushing her fingers along the door frame of the spare room as she passed.
The quietness hummed around her, neither friendly nor threatening, just still.
As someone who worked with chaos, stillness had a way of making her itch.
Hesitating at the small entry table where her phone sat face down, she picked it up and scrolled to her mum’s name. She missed her, and her dad, so much. To the point of actually feeling homesick.
Nina answered on the third ring. ‘Darling! Hello.’
‘Hey, Mum.’ She couldn’t help her tone being a little flat.
‘Oh, Bri, you sound sad; is everything all right?’
‘Yeah, everything’s okay,’ Brianna said, slumping into the chair at her little kitchen table. ‘I just needed to hear a familiar voice.’
They chatted for a while about nothing – Nina’s new herb garden, her plans to enter a jar of homemade lemon and passionfruit butter in the local show, and her ongoing feud with a neighbour’s overly ambitious rooster.
Brianna chuckled through it all, letting the sound of her mother’s voice ease the last of the tightness from her shoulders.
‘I’ve missed this,’ she said softly. ‘Just talking. Everything here’s fine, mostly, but it’s different, you know? I think I’m settling in. But some days feel, I don’t know, maybe bigger than I’m used to.’
‘That’s all part of it,’ Nina replied gently. ‘New rhythms take time. You’ll find your own pace soon enough, Bri, I’m certain of it.’
‘Yeah, I hope so.’ There was a pause before Brianna asked, ‘Is Dad there to say g’day to?’
‘Yes, he is, let me give him a holler.’ The phone muffled. ‘Logan, hon, Bri’s on the phone.’
She heard a shuffling, the sound of a chair scraping.
‘Is that my girl? Tell her I’ve finally fixed that blasted mower. Only took me all morning and a busted knuckle.’ The phone crackled as it was passed over to him. ‘Hello, sweetheart.’
‘Hey, Dad,’ Brianna called, laughing. ‘You always did have a flair for the dramatic.’
‘Runs in the family,’ he shot back.
‘How’s work been? Still pulling long shifts at the station?’
‘Ah, you know the drill,’ Logan replied. ‘We’re short-staffed, and every third shift ends up being a double. But it’s not all bad. I had today off, caught up on mowing, and even managed to squeeze in a coffee and cream bun down at the bakery with your mum.’
‘Living the dream,’ Brianna teased.
‘Hey, these small wins matter more than you think,’ he chuckled. ‘But enough about me, sounds like you’re the one with interesting stories lately.’
Brianna hesitated. For a brief moment, she nearly said it.
Nearly said that Molly wasn’t all right, that someone was hurting her, threatening her, and her brother’s debts hadn’t died with her new dear friend.
Her father was a police sergeant, after all.
If anyone could help, he could. But the words stuck.
Molly had trusted her, begged her not to say anything.
So she was torn between doing the right thing and doing the kind thing.
‘Nothing too wild,’ she said instead, forcing a brighter tone.
‘Just the usual animal antics.’ She hated how quickly the lie came, so she tried to pivot, saying lightly, ‘Oh, and I’ve made some good friends now, other than my landlord, Molly.
Last night I went out for a pub dinner with a married couple, Gavin and Tilly, and their mate, Hayden Pierce.
He owns Sweetwater Acres, Gavin works for him, and I look after the horses there, when needed. ’
There was a pause on the line.
‘Hayden Pierce, huh?’ Logan repeated slowly. ‘Name rings a bell. I think I met him once. A quiet type? Rode in a couple of charity musters quite a few years back?’
‘That’s likely the one,’ she said, fiddling with a pen on the table as she recalled Hayden’s stories of his mustering years. ‘It’s a small world, hey, Dad.’
‘It sure is, Bri. He seemed like a really decent bloke,’ Logan said, but his tone had shifted slightly. ‘Just … go easy, all right? Small towns can look quiet, and the townspeople can seem harmless, but there’s always history under the surface. People don’t always show you everything straight up.’
If only he knew just how much she’d already found this to be true. ‘I know, Dad. I’m not rushing into anything. He’s just a mate.’ And she firmly told herself this, too.
‘I didn’t say you were rushing. Just trust your gut. And don’t ignore it if something feels off.’
She nodded, even if it made her chest a little tight. ‘I will.’
‘Right then,’ Logan said more cheerfully. ‘I’m off to mow the neighbour’s verge just to annoy his rooster.’
Brianna laughed. ‘Tell it I said good luck.’
‘Love you, darling,’ Nina called faintly in the background. ‘We’ll talk soon, okay?’
‘Love you both,’ Brianna said, the smile lingering as she ended the call.
It felt good, settling, to talk with her parents. And when she finally hung up, the ache in her chest didn’t feel quite so sharp. Still frustratingly there. But quieter.
* * *
The night before, when he’d got back from dropping Brianna off, Hayden had picked up the phone and called Sharon.
He didn’t dance around it, just asked if she had time to talk, really talk.
She’d paused for only a second before agreeing.
Said she had the morning free, and a cuppa on a quiet verandah at his place sounded better than one more hour pretending not to overhear people’s secrets at the Rusty Rooster.
And now, as the next morning arrived clear and dry, with the kind of light that made even the dust motes look golden, he rose early, restless and curious about what the township’s longest-standing barmaid might bring with her.
By nine, he’d checked on the horses, swept the verandah, rinsed out the matching mugs he kept for guests, and boiled the kettle.
A breeze rustled the nearby gum trees, and Duchess let out a whinny from the lower paddock, as if reminding him she was there, always watching.
Sharon arrived half an hour later, with her usual bold lipstick toned down to something softer.
She wore jeans and a linen blouse, her fiery red hair twisted up in a clip.
No tray in hand, no bar towel slung over her shoulder. Just Sharon. Woman to man.
‘I can’t believe I’ve never seen your place, Hayden. Didn’t expect this view to be so nice,’ she said as he led her onto the verandah. ‘Thought it’d be all dust and dogs.’
‘It’s both on a bad day,’ Hayden replied with a wry smile, handing her a mug of tea from the brewed pot. ‘Sit wherever you like.’
They settled into the camp chairs, steam rising between them from blue mugs.
‘So,’ he said, ‘you said you had something you wanted to talk about.’
Sharon sipped, eyes scanning the tree line for a moment before answering. ‘I didn’t mean to make a scene at the pub. I just, well, I sometimes forget to keep things zipped when there’s old pain involved.’
Hayden nodded slowly. ‘You and Jack?’