Chapter 3
Mackenzie
The wombat shaking his head, then scrambling to his feet, only to make a beeline for the side of the road.
I shifted restlessly on the bed. The thin trail of blood he left behind.
“Hey!” I said, only for the wombat to pause for a second and look back over his shoulder at me before taking off again. “Hey, fella, you’re injured.”
Didn’t see much evidence of that as he barrelled forward. This creature was like a boulder and a ball of fur had a baby and he just pushed his way through the long grass growing by the side of the road.
And I could’ve just left him to it.
The animal was obviously healthy enough to make a quick exit, but… What if he had a head injury? The thought of the wombat going back to his burrow and then rolling up into a ball, closing his eyes, maybe for the last time, was what got me moving.
“Pspsps…” I said, then shook my head. “You’re not a damn cat.
Look, wombat.” It paused again, staring back at me.
“There was already an international incident where one of my countrymen was manhandling one of you for clicks. Going viral on my first day in Australia for hurting the wildlife is not part of the dream, so if you could…”
Evidently, he was not persuaded by my speech. He trotted across the field, meaning I had to go after him.
“Come here!” I said while separating the strands of barbed wire, then sliding through the gap. “Come… Oh.”
My Mom’s place wasn’t a farm, there were ranches all around us, so I knew better than to wander into some field.
This was why. A massive red and white bull stared me down, full of the imperious power of a beast that could fuck my shit up.
I wasn’t worried about the wombat anymore.
Backing away slowly, that was the right thing to do, wasn’t it?
I had no idea. A scream built in my throat, but before I could make a squeak, he appeared.
Golden brown hair, blue eyes that seemed to stare into my soul, then his brows jerked down in a frown.
“What the hell were you thinking?” he shouted, and that’s what it took for me to sit up straight in bed.
Bed? I looked around me and took in the unfamiliar room. Where the hell was I? Only one way to find out. I threw my legs over the side of the bed, then made for the door.
Only to find that the occupants of the house were already discussing me.
“I need to know who the hell this woman is before I call the cops,” a familiar voice growled. “Can’t have bleeding heart Barbies blundering into my bull’s paddock.”
Barbie? I looked down and then smoothed my hands down my stomach. I was a whole lot curvier than any doll I played with as a child.
“That doesn’t make her a criminal,” a feminine voice chimed in. “Stupid, yes, but if the cops locked up every person who acted the fool, you three would be in jail permanently.”
“Not helping,” the man said.
“We could go through her bags,” another man said.
“That would be a criminal offence,” the woman said.
“Troy,” a man said, “if she’s an influencer, maybe we should check her socials? She might be famous.”
“Maybe she posts thirst traps.” This man’s tone turned sly. “I’d like to see that.”
I’d spent months hiding away from the world and the need to walk back into that bedroom and make myself small, unnoticeable rode me hard. I couldn’t give into that impulse. That was American Mackenzie. Australian Macca was quietly confident, able to face down a room of strangers.
“Or you could just ask me.” They all turned to face me.
OK, maybe American Mackenzie was still in the room with us, because right now I wanted to take several steps back.
Instead, I put faces to the voices I’d overheard.
The woman had long brown hair and a wiry frame, but the three men had to be brothers.
Two were carbon copies of each other, apparently twins, but the last man?
I recognised that frown as much as those massive arms that had picked me up so expertly.
I stepped forward, hand outstretched. “Mackenzie James.”
“Mackenzie…”
The woman’s eyebrows arched upwards, and then she shot a meaningful look at the twins. One smirked, the other taking a step closer, obviously about to shake my hand. My ‘saviour’ got in his way, coming to tower over me.
“Not James Mackenzie.” He looked over his shoulder at the other woman. “Mackenzie James.”
“Ah, so I’m Charlie,” she said, weaving her way around the other man. “These are my brothers, Billy and Bronson.” Billy was the smirky twin and Bronson the friendly one. “You’ve obviously met Troy.”
“Not formally.” I gazed up at the man, then offered him my hand.
“Though sweeping a girl off her feet does leave a big impression.” This was the moment when that frown was supposed to turn upside down.
He’d laugh, and I’d thank him most profusely for saving me from the bull.
Instead he just stared at me fixedly. I twisted my wrist, drawing attention to my hand. “Nice to meet you.”
“You,” he growled, stalking closer. “Wally was two seconds away from head butting you right back to the States.”
“And I really appreciate you rescuing me,” I said, forcing the words between clenched teeth. “You are obviously prepared to go the extra mile for your staff.”
“Not staff.” He shook his head, his scowl growing thunderous. “Not you.” Turning to the woman, he stabbed a finger in my direction. “She is not staying on this farm.”
“Family farm,” Billy said in a way that made me think he was forced to mention this often. “Everyone who votes for Mackenzie staying, raise your hand.”
Not sure why, but seeing three hands shoot up made me feel a little better.
“You’ve had experience working at a winery?” he said. “Grape picking?”
“Yes, and—”
As I prepared to recite my whole work history, he cut me off.
“Good. No bulls, no sheep, no electrical fences…” Studying his face, I caught the moment when his expression softened, fairly sure I saw fear replace anger.
My intent focus had him frowning again. Looking over his shoulder, he spoke to the woman.
“Charlie, I’m heading over to Gruenwald.
I’ll get James… Mackenzie set up as a picker over there.
” Every time he looked at me, his eyes narrowed.
“You’ll be in one of their worker’s huts before nightfall. ”
Troy didn’t wait for our input, turning on his heel and walking out of the room.
“My brother.” Charlie shot me a wry smile. “He’s kind of a force of nature. Hard headed as he is hard working.”
“Ignore everything he said, Macca.” Billy ambled over, putting an arm around my shoulders like we were old friends.
“The tribe has spoken and you’re staying.
It’ll be real nice having a woman in the bunks for once.
You smell a lot nicer than this idiot.” He jerked a finger in Bronson’s direction. “And I doubt you snore as loud as him.”
“She’s not bunking in with you lot.” Charlie came to stand in his way. “Mackenzie, you can stay in the room you woke up in.”
“Char—” Billy started to complain.
“And you two can bring her car around and grab her bags, while Mackenzie fills me in on what happened. How the hell did you end up in Wally’s field?”
Wally was apparently the bull.
“So…” With a wince, I forged in. “I hit a wombat.”
“Uh oh…” Bronson said, the twins hanging back by the door.
“I was barely idling along and I saw some parrots and then…” Letting a rush of breath out, I finished the story. “Somehow I managed to collide with a wombat. I went after him because there was blood and—”
“Not Nugget.” Charlie went perfectly pale.
“Nugget?” I asked.
“Charlie runs a wildlife rescue from the farm,” Bronson explained. “And Nugget was a wombat she raised from a joey. He lives wild, but thinks the whole farm is his territory.”
“Can you…?” Charlie swallowed hard. “Can you show me where he got hit?”
Holy crap. I’d spent less than twenty-four hours in Australia and managed to hit my boss’ sister’s pet wombat, face down an angry bull, get rescued by a hunky Aussie farmer and pissed him off so much he was going to demand another farm take me on.
So much for my dream holiday.
Squaring my shoulders, I nodded.
“Of course. If you could take me back to my car, I’ll show you exactly where he went.”