Chapter 11 #2
But who was she kidding. She knew why. The way he’d looked at her when she pulled into the driveway.
The way he hadn’t said what he was thinking.
The way he hadn’t touched her intimately by now but could have.
She shook it all off and pushed to her feet.
There was work to do. Always work. Her welcome distraction.
The sky was just softening with gold when she pulled on her boots and stepped outside, glad that Molly’s bedroom door was still closed and there was no sunlight peeking beneath it – hopefully that meant her friend was still soundly sleeping.
The scent of dewy grass clung to the breeze and the soft calls of birds carried through the rustling trees.
Sherlock followed her closely, ears twitching as he pounced down the steps and went to do his business.
He returned promptly, and Brianna ruffled his shaggy head. ‘You’re on watch again today, buddy, is that okay?’
Sherlock’s reply was a short, sharp bark, then a nose nudge to her hand to say goodbye for the day.
‘Aw, I love you, too, buddy.’ She leant and kissed his head. ‘Catch you a bit later on, and make sure you stay out of trouble, okay.’
After checking the gate was latched tight behind her – she wasn’t about to risk Sherlock wandering – she paused with her hand on the Hilux door.
The morning heat was already building, the bonnet throwing back shards of sunlight, but it wasn’t the sunlight prickling her skin.
Something else simmered beneath the surface, like the day hadn’t yet decided whether it meant to be kind or cruel.
Time would tell.
She drew a steadying breath, slid into the driver’s seat, and guided the ute along the familiar gravel road and out of town.
Sweetwater Acres lay ten minutes north, pressed against the ridge and hemmed by wide paddocks that always tugged at her chest in ways she couldn’t quite explain. Comfort. Longing. Maybe even belonging.
When she crested the last rise, Hayden’s property unfurled before her, the neat timber fencing cutting strong, certain lines across the rolling green.
Near the southern boundary, Duchess grazed lazily while Maverick darted at her side, his tail flicking high with mischief.
She eased to a stop, dust curling in her wake before settling.
Stepping out, the ground felt different here, solid beneath her boots – steady, safer somehow, as though the land itself offered her shelter from any of life’s storms.
For the first time that morning, she let her lungs fill all the way, the breath going down easier.
She checked her watch. It was still early.
Plenty of time before her first official call of the day to a new property on the western side of town, where the owners had phoned in about their pet pig going off his feed and acting listless.
She hadn’t been there before, and pigs could be unpredictable at the best of times, so she wanted to give herself the full morning to assess him properly.
Which meant she had time to call in here first. Besides, it was on her way – practical, really – and checking in on Duchess and Maverick was good medicine.
But as she started towards the fence line, her chest tightened with a truth she couldn’t quite ignore.
It wasn’t just the horses drawing her here.
It was him, too.
The countryside was quiet save for birdsong and the rustle of early wind through the grass. Duchess nickered a hello as she approached, and Maverick, the leggy foal with an inquisitive streak, hovered close behind.
Pausing at the rustic fence, she smiled, brushing her hand down the mare’s strong neck. ‘Morning, beautiful, how’s motherhood treating you, hey?’
Maverick was clearly thriving. His spindly legs still wobbled a little when he cantered around Duchess, but there was a confidence blooming in him, a joyful bounce in his gait that made her chest ache with tenderness.
All energy and affection, he stopped mid-prance to bury his nose in his mother’s side, then stretched to curiously sniff at Brianna’s boots like they held treats.
Giggling at his antics, she crouched down, and when he tugged at her ponytail she laughed out loud, the sound easing something in her chest but not the knot in her stomach.
It had been five days.
No calls. No notes. No knocks. No Sherlock growls.
Somehow too quiet, given all that had happened.
On impulse, she sat on her rump, folded her legs and pulled out her phone.
Her gallery was filled with animals – Duchess mid-gallop, Maverick chewing a hose, Sherlock sprawled belly-up on the verandah, along with a few of her gorgeous patients she’d warmed to during her vet visits.
Nestled between the happy snaps was one from a few weeks earlier, of Molly, laughing outside the café with flour on her cheek.
Hayden was in a few too, in the background, his face always half-shadowed by his hat.
There was only one snap that caught the outline of his strong jaw and his smiling lips, and she stared longer than she meant to, wondering what it would be like to kiss him.
But catching herself, and chastising herself for fantasising, she quickly locked the screen and exhaled when behind her, footsteps crunched over dry grass.
‘You’re up early, Steele,’ Hayden said, his voice rough with sleep. ‘As usual, really.’
She turned, surprised but not startled. ‘Oh, hey.’ He held out a coffee in one hand, his own mug in the other. ‘Habit, I suppose,’ she said, leaping to her booted feet then gratefully accepting it.
Their fingers brushed as the cup passed between them.
‘Extra strong, two sugars, dash of milk,’ he said.
‘Mmm, just how I like it. Thanks, Pierce.’ She sipped, warmth spreading through more than just her hands. Practical or not, she knew why she was here. Duchess and Maverick mattered, yes. But so did he.
‘They missed you,’ he said, nodding towards Duchess and Maverick. ‘And I gather you miss them, too.’
She gave him a sidelong glance but let it pass. ‘Couldn’t resist. Maverick’s getting cheekier by the day.’
He smiled into his cup. ‘He’s got a good teacher.’
They stood in companionable silence for a moment, watching Maverick bounce clumsily after a drifting leaf.
Hayden shifted slightly, glancing her way. ‘How’s Molly holding up?’
Brianna’s mouth pulled to one side. ‘Tired. Trying to act like she’s fine. Still hasn’t gone home. And I don’t want her to.’
‘Understandable.’ He nodded slowly. ‘And the café?’
‘Reopening in a couple of days.’ She sighed as she pondered Molly being back at work.
Hayden’s brows lifted. ‘You think she’s really ready?’
‘She says she is.’ Brianna took a slow sip of her delicious coffee made by an equally delicious man. ‘She’s determined to reclaim normal, even if it’s not real yet. Maybe especially because it’s not.’
Hayden nodded slowly, his eyes now fixed on the sprawling paddocks. ‘It still doesn’t sit right with me. The break-in, the note, the blackmail. It wasn’t just some punk acting tough. Whoever’s behind this, well, I reckon it’s organised. And intentional.’
Brianna’s jaw tensed. ‘And personal. Molly’s name, her history, even her habits, whoever it was knew too much.’
‘Yeah.’ Hayden’s grip on his mug tightened. ‘It’s not random. Someone in town is pulling strings. Watching. Waiting. Playing nasty games.’ He hesitated, then added, ‘I’ve been doing some checks. Quiet ones. Old Walt has helped me a bit.’
‘Okay, who’s Walt?’
‘He’s a retired stockman, used to run cattle up near the ridge. Knows just about everyone in town and, more importantly, knows who to listen to and who to ignore. But don’t say anything to Molly yet, at least not until we have more than hunches.’
‘Right you are.’ She zipped her lips. ‘Secret is safe with me.’
For a moment neither of them moved, the silence stretching, charged, like the air right before a summer storm. Hayden’s gaze lingered on her, steady and unreadable, though his hand flexed around his enamel mug as if holding something back.
Brianna cleared her throat, breaking eye contact before her thoughts slipped any further into dangerous territory. ‘Well, I should probably get going. My next patient isn’t going to diagnose herself.’
‘Right.’ He set his mug on the timber railing, but his voice was rougher than it should’ve been. ‘Thanks for checking in.’
‘Any excuse to see that handsome little fella,’ she replied lightly as she glanced towards Maverick, though her chest tightened at the truth of who else she found handsome.
When she moved past Hayden and towards her Hilux, his hand brushed her arm, just a fraction, a fleeting touch that sent a ripple through her entire body. She glanced up at him, pulse skipping. His smile was slow and deliberate, carrying just enough heat to make her toes curl in her boots.
‘Drive safe, Doc Steele.’
She nodded, climbing into the Hilux with more effort than it should have taken. As the engine rumbled to life, she caught sight of him still leaning against the fence, arms folded, eyes tracking her until the dust rose between them.
A few hours later, after a routine check on what she discovered was a pregnant pig, it was eleven o’clock when she found herself outside Chapter One, her arms crossed, watching as Trev, a local handyman, tapped the final piece of trim into place above the doorway.
The freshly varnished sign glinted in the morning sun, and she shaded her eyes against the brightness of it.
Molly stepped up beside her, coffee in each hand, her usual smile now returned, full force. ‘Looks good, doesn’t it?’
‘It looks perfect,’ Brianna replied. But the word tasted odd. Off balance.