Seven
‘You’re welcome to flick through Pop’s cowboy books or magazines. I’ve got an e-reader if you want to read anything else.’ Bree led Mia out the front door to the small verandah where a set of comfy cane chairs, a small table, and a sparsely filled bookcase created a cosy corner with a view of the front yard’s flower garden. ‘It’s a good spot here in the mornings. The flowers are at their most fragrant then.’
‘Did you plant this?’
‘Me, no. Pop grows them in memory of my grandmother, Beverly Splint. Granny Bea loved this part of the garden.’
‘It’s beautiful.’
‘It is. And you should tell him that and watch ol’ Charlie blush. It’s the sweetest thing.’ Bree giggled as she plumped up some cushions on the comfy cane chair.
‘Where are your parents?’
‘Gone. Yours?’
‘They live with my brother on the family farm.’ Mia lowered herself into the chair, the plump cushions cocooning her sore ribs.
‘Where?’
‘Nildottie. On the river, near Swan Reach?’
Bree shook her head.
‘Not far from Murray Bridge.’
‘Oh, I’ve driven through there. Feel free to call them anytime.’ She pointed to the open front door.
‘I don’t want to worry them.’ Again, she dropped her head in shame.
‘Hey.’ Bree dropped to her haunches, her eyes level with Mia’s. ‘You have nothing to be ashamed about. But your ex sure as hell has a lot to answer for. He’s the one who did wrong by you.’
‘Gavin’s never done anything like that before.’
‘Once is too many times, Mia. But I bet it’s been building up for a while.’
Mia shook her head. ‘Not true. But he was drinking.’
Bree narrowed those green eyes at her. ‘That’s no excuse.’
‘He was—’
‘Stop sticking up for the guy.’
Mia gasped at the realisation that Bree was right.
‘Hey…’ Bree grabbed her hands, holding them to her heart, as her voice softened. ‘You are so much more than that. Don’t let this one incident define you, when you deserve only the good, living in a world where no man hits you. Unless you’re a boxer like Dex.’
‘Is that one of Cap’s brothers? I haven’t seen Cap today.’
‘I told Dex and his brothers to stay away and let you heal in peace.’
Aw, bless Bree for being so considerate. It had also surprised Mia when Bree had asked permission to share her story. ‘So, you told them I’m here?’
Bree nodded. ‘I gave them the brief version. And Cap told them you’re staying as long as you need and they’re okay with that.’
‘What are they like? The brothers.’
‘Oh, is this where I get out the good crockery to drink gin from teacups while we pretend we’re high society, gossiping about everyone as we spill the tea on all their inappropriate family secrets?’ Bree grinned, plonking herself down in the next chair, leaning back, to casually cross one leg over the other.
A giggle slipped out of her. If it wasn’t for her fat lip, Mia could almost match Bree’s wolfish grin. ‘I meant—’
‘I know what you meant, because I’d want to know too, if I were in your situation.’ Bree inhaled deeply to peer over the bobbing flower heads towards the farmhouse that stood in the distance as if dumped onto the red dirt like a forgotten child’s toy.
‘So, who is the oldest?’
‘Ryder. He’s hot to look at—all the Riggs’ brothers are in their own way.’
Mia didn’t want to think about Cap and his good looks, she couldn’t. Yet…
‘Ryder’s hard and cold as steel,’ continued Bree. ‘Some days I swear he’s got ice in his veins, he’s that cold. He’s also the business brains who can spot a con within a millisecond, and the bank out of their little quartet of brothers who own Elsie Creek Station.’
‘Bank?’
‘Ryder paid for this place with cash, and the others put in their deposits. I think he’s a self-made millionaire or something?’ Bree shrugged. ‘And then there’s Dex.’
‘The boxer?’
‘Bareknuckle boxer. Dex does the hardcore street fights.’
‘Oh, that sounds scary.’ Mia wriggled in her seat uncomfortably, thinking of hiding back inside. Which was so wrong when she lived for the outdoors as a soil sister. Maybe the sooner she got back to work, the sooner she could forget this nightmare of bruises. ‘Is this Dex, um…’ Safe?
‘Dex is cool. We share the same weird sense of humour—but we will never ever tell him that.’ Again, Bree shared another wolfish grin, helping to distract Mia from her issues. ‘Then you have Ash, who used to love the game of chasing skirt and playing computer games all night. Until the little snowflake grew up overnight when his son, Mason, arrived, along with the perfect lady to suit Ash.’
‘And her name?’
‘Harper. She’s only been in the Territory a few months, knows nothing about cattle, but is a whizz with politics and office stuff. She works part-time at the vet surgery in town, which is handy because she loves to shop—so it’s like dial-up delivery service. You’ll meet her soon. Harper visits for cooking lessons. Can you cook?’
‘Basic stuff. You?’ Mia had been spoiled with flavoursome soups, smoothies, and lots of comforting cupcakes. Food that was easy for her to eat with her sore jaw. The level of care these strangers provided for her was heartwarming.
‘Well, me and my curves like my food, and my gin.’ Bree patted her healthy curves. Bree not only had the height and a stack of red hair, she also had a generous bosom that Mia would kill for.
‘Which reminds me, I’ve got a new batch of gin to test.’
‘You make your own gin?’
‘It keeps me out of trouble.’ Bree winked with those green eyes all sparkly. ‘We’ll have to find a flavour you like when you’re ready. But I noticed you haven’t asked about him yet.’
‘Who?’
‘Cap. Don’t you want the dirt on him?’
Mia swallowed hard, desperate to fight her blush. ‘I—’
‘Don’t worry, precious.’ Bree waved her hand in the air as if shooing away a bug. ‘There is no dirt on Cap, except the dirt he wears at the end of the day.’
‘So, um, he’s…’ Trying not to make it too obvious, but she had to learn more about the guy who’d offered her a job. ‘Nice?’
Bree tilted her head at Mia, sharing a wry grin. ‘Cap is a rare unicorn.’
‘A what?’
‘He’s very much a masculine male who is in touch with his sensitive side, but it’s not a weakness in him, it’s a strength.’
‘Cap helped me.’
‘And Cap will continue to help you, because that’s what Cap does.’
‘For everyone?’
‘No.’
‘Excuse me?’ Mia’s eyelids fluttered as if to blink away some imaginary grit.
‘Cap only rescues stray dogs. Working dogs are his specialty.’
‘I noticed he has a lot of dogs.’ Having been up close and personal with the pack in the cage.
‘Cap’s either found those dogs on the side of the road, saved them from some farmer’s bullet, or people have sought him out to care for the dog—like Sarge, the ex-riot dog.’ Bree leaned closer, resting her forearms on her knees. ‘But you’re Cap’s first human stray. Which is rare because Cap doesn’t do people. He’d rather hang with his dogs, or his brothers, than deal with people. So, he may struggle to say what he means, especially when he likes someone.’ Bree’s green eyes locked onto Mia’s for a long beat, as if sending a message.
‘VISITORS!’ Charlie’s shout came from the back sheds, as a dog gave a deep bark from up at the farmhouse.
‘I have to tell Charlie to stop doing that!’ Bree peered over the garden and watched as a white car roof, topped with emergency lights, parked nearby.
‘It’s the police. What are they doing here?’ Mia jumped out of her seat, pushing past the flaring pain from her bruises with her heart hammering in her chest.
‘It’s only Porter.’
‘I can’t. He’ll see my face and ask too many questions.’ Bree had told her to call the police, but Mia didn’t want to cause trouble, or for her family to find out. Most of all she never wanted to see Gavin again. She hated confrontations, avoiding them at all costs. It was right up there with public speaking.
‘You can hide inside. I won’t say anything.’ Bree held the front door open.
‘Thank you.’ Mia hobbled inside then positioned herself to peek out from behind the curtain at the open window. Were the police here for her?
‘Are you lost, Porter?’ Bree asked, as the wrought-iron gate creaked.
‘Morning to you too, Bree. I’m looking for your grandfather?’
Mia recognised him. It was the policeman Cap had been talking to in the pub’s car park yesterday.
‘What did the old man do now?’
‘Nothin’ that concerns you, kid.’ Charlie rushed up the stone path from the back of the house. ‘What brings you here, Porter?’
‘I brought your brother’s bankbook back.’
‘Pop, you didn’t!’ Bree crossed her arms over her chest and glared at Charlie.
‘Leave off, kid, I had to know.’ Charlie snatched the bankbook back. ‘And I thought I told you not to tell Bree.’ Charlie wagged a plump finger at the police officer as if scolding a child.
‘Do you want to find out if your brother is still around or not?’
‘Too right, I do. I’m an old man who wants to know what happened to my brother, because I know Harry is no murderer.’
Murderer! Mia raised her eyebrows, peeking over the window’s ledge, their voices so clear.
‘It’s the family trade, right? Murder before breakfast,’ said Bree in a snarky tone.
‘Stop saying that, will ya.’ Charlie wagged his finger at Bree.
‘Er, hello, police officer here.’ Porter tapped at his uniform. ‘Please tell me you’re talking about a murder of crows.’
‘Relax, sugar bear, no need to flash the handcuffs as part of your foreplay.’
The policeman blushed, dropping his head.
His reaction had Bree grinning. But she soon sobered up as she spoke to her grandfather. ‘Do you think your brother is still out there, Pop?’
Charlie sighed, his shoulders sinking. ‘I don’t know what to think. I have too many questions and I’m hoping Policeman Porter—’
Porter cleared his throat. ‘It’s Senior Constable—’
‘Whatever. He can help me find some answers.’ Charlie then lifted his chin to the officer. ‘Anyhoodle, what did you find out?’
‘Nothing yet. I’ve put in a load of queries and I’m waiting for their replies.’
‘So, you drove all the way out here for nothing, besides getting me into trouble with the granddaughter?’ Charlie screwed his nose up. ‘We have a landline, you know.’
‘I came out here to give Cap this dog. Is Cap around?’ Porter went back to his police vehicle, opened the back door, and out jumped a glossy chocolate-brown kelpie attached to a lead. She was such a dainty thing.
‘She’s gorgeous.’ Charlie went to pat the dog, but it flinched and cowered behind Porter. ‘She’s a bit bullwhipped, isn’t she?’
‘The vet says Willow’s not too sure around men. I suspect her old owner hurt her.’
Inside the house, Mia gasped.
The dog tilted her head in Mia’s direction as if she’d heard her.
Bree held out her hand to the policeman. ‘I’ll take—’
‘Willow.’ Porter handed the lead to Bree.
Bree crouched down to the dog. ‘Hello, Willow. You can stay here until Cap comes in from the paddocks. They’re fixing the drafting yards out the back.’
Porter dragged out a box from his vehicle’s front seat. ‘Here’s Willow’s gear.’
‘That’s a lot of gear for a stray dog.’ Charlie started poking through the box.
‘I wanted to keep her.’ Porter leaned down and patted the dog.
‘Your working hours won’t let you keep her?’
‘I was thinking about letting her stay in the car with me while on patrol. But that’s a lot of hours sitting inside when Willow is an outside dog. I’d go jogging with her in the morning, and then after work I’d let her run alongside the car. I clocked her doing fifty clicks once, and she still had steam to run. But she’s a working dog.’
‘Of course she is. Look at her build.’ Charlie pointed at the dog. ‘She’s made for speed and agility and the way them eyes move, she’s a smart cookie, for sure.’
‘Not wrong there. Once Willow recovered from her injuries, she worked out how to open the cupboard for the dog food. Then she destroyed my yard, my garage, and my couch from boredom. Willow needs to run, she needs to live on a station and not in a police house.’
The police officer looked so sad to see her go.
‘You be good, Willow.’ Porter tenderly patted the dog, nodded at Charlie and Bree, adjusted his hat and climbed into his police car and drove away.
Charlie went around the back as Bree, carrying the box, led the dog inside. She unclipped the lead and left the dog by the shut front door, while she rummaged around at the sink. ‘Know anything about kelpies, Mia?’
‘My dad had them on the family sheep farm.’
‘Good. You can babysit this one until Cap comes back.’
‘What do I do?’
‘Just chill. Both of you.’ Bree put a water bowl down by the door. ‘I’ll be in the smithy’s shed if you need me.’ Bree slipped on her leather apron, plucked a skullcap from the hat rack and began tucking her curls away. ‘Oh, and her name is Willow. Use the lead when you take her outside for toilet breaks.’
And just like that Mia was left with a dog.
The dog tucked her tail between her legs and trembled as if cold. Just like Mia was only yesterday.
‘It’s okay, Willow.’
Willow’s ears twitched at her name. Her moist nose wrinkled as she sniffed at the air.
‘Did someone hurt you, too?’ Mia sat on the floor with her back pressed against the cool stone wall. She felt safe there, keeping a watch on both the front and back doors.
Willow sniffed around the room for an escape, drank some water, then did another lap of the room. Finally, her soft dainty paws whispered quietly over the slate floor to sit beside Mia, her back to the corner wall, her eyes on both the front and back door, as well.
‘Hello, Willow.’
The dog sniffed at her.
‘Nice to meet you.’ Mia gave her a gentle smile that grew when she could pat Willow’s soft fur. Then when the dog curled up alongside her leg, the warmth was soothing. Hidden from the world that normally ignored her, she finally felt safe.