Chapter 9
Mackenzie
“You did good.”
So why did Troy stomp off, his face like thunder? Because he’s an asshole, I thought, shaking my head.
A really hot asshole.
The way he jerked open his bedroom door, revealing a truly impressive chest and that wasn’t all. My cheeks flamed as I remembered staring at Troy in all his morning glory. Turns out his ego was as big as his—
“Troy’s cranky again?” Charlie appeared by my side.
Stifling a little yelp, I turned and smiled at her.
“Not sure why.” I brushed my hands off on my jeans. “I fed the cattle and managed to stay on the ute the whole time.”
“Well, he’s one thing, and that’s consistent.
” She shrugged. “I meant to warn you that Troy’s usually in a foul mood in the morning.
Doesn’t become half human until he’s had at least two coffees.
” With a shake of her head, she smiled at me.
“Sometimes not even then. Look, don’t worry about him.
If he gets too difficult, you tell me and I’ll sort him out. ”
“I’ll be fine,” I assured her. “His bark is bigger than his bite, right?”
“Ahh… let’s go with that,” Charlie said, then grinned. “Anyway, a new foster has come in and I need to drive out to the vet’s to pick him up. After you’ve had some breakfast, can I get you to start the feeding schedule?”
“I’ll go right now.”
Walking back into the rescue felt like the best possible way to spend my morning.
“You don’t have to—”
“It’s fine.” I waved her away. “I’ve got this.”
She shook her head and smiled.
“Alright, well, if you run into trouble, you’ve got my number now and I’ll be only twenty minutes away.”
That wouldn’t happen, I thought, as she got into her car and took off.
I waved and then started walking from the house to the rescue, when the warble of some birds had me pausing.
They were big like crows were at home, but had black and white plumage.
That song though, it wasn’t pretty, but there was something musical about it and that had me smiling as I watched a family of them yodelling to each other in the trees.
Only for all of their beady little eyes to fixate on me.
“Ahh…” Suddenly all the memes about everything in Australia trying to kill you came flooding back. “Nice birdies. Niiice birdies.”
A smaller one that had grey feathers as well as black and white started making this high-pitched squawk that set my teeth on edge.
Then the larger birds took to the air.
Swooping my way, I took a step back, then another.
“No, no, no…” I held my hands up. “I did not travel for over twenty-four hours straight to re-enact a scene from The Birds!”
Running towards the rescue, wrenching the door open, I felt an empathy for Tippi Hedren’s character that I wasn’t capable of before.
I tried to slam the gate in their faces, but the birds came sweeping in.
I let out a little scream, shrinking back in expectation of my eyes getting pecked out, only to hear an impatient tap.
One of them had landed on the old fridge a lot of the food was kept in and pecked at it again when I looked over at them.
“Shoo!” I said, trying to wave them away, but have you ever tried to get a crow to move out of the way?
The black and white bird looked at me as if to say who the hell do you think you are? One of the other birds landed on the fridge and did the same, the two of them working together to try to force the fridge open as the smaller one sat on the prep table, beak ajar.
“Ohh…” I looked up at the feeding schedule. “Are you guys… magpies?”
That resulted in a louder warble and then more pecks at the fridge.
Pulling the door open, the birds fluttered back and the sound seemed to summon everybody else.
I looked around to see possums flinging themselves from the trees and going sailing through the air towards me.
Young wallabies and kangaroos emerged from the shadows, their feet thudding on the ground as they jumped closer, then formed a ring around the table, apparently looking for their breakfast.
Only to be followed by an appearance by Nugget.
The creature seemed well and truly recovered as he ran around the enclosure, obviously in the clutch of the zoomies. He nearly lost his footing, then quickly turned around and made a beeline for me.
“No.” I put my hands out. “Nugget, no!”
But the creature slammed into my legs, forcing them to buckle, before he gave me a nip on my ankle for good measure.
I’d had so many fantasies about interactions with native animals in Australia, but none of them went like this.
“OK!” I said, peering at the schedule. “If everyone can just wait their turn…” But that’s not how it worked with animals. “Meal worms,” I read next to magpies. “A spoonful each.”
One of the magpies was already in the fridge, poking his beak at a plastic box labelled exactly that. Finding a measuring spoon, I opened the box and that was a mistake. All three birds were on my shoulders, inspecting the process, then lunging forward the moment the lid was peeled back.
“No,” I ground out, determined not to let Charlie down.
Troy thought I was a dumb city slicker, but I knew better. I’d dealt with crabby cows and horses as well as a truly obstinate donkey. I could feed a couple of damn birds without incident.
Well, not without shedding some blood.
“Ow! You stupid damn bird.” I nearly yanked my hand back, but there was no way to give ground. “You’ll get your meal worms…”
Looking into the container, I questioned all of my life choices up until that point. Worms were important, vital even, but a pile of dead ones in the box was nausea inducing.
But I would not be deterred.
Scooping the spoon in, I placed a small pile in front of the other adult bird, because I’d be damned if I’d reward aggressive behaviour.
The pecker leapt forward, wanting to claim them as its, but the bird I fed squawked and flapped its wings, warning it off.
Then the worms were pecked up as fast as they could manage.
Right as a paw reached for one.
“Nope, no worms for kangaroos,” I told the joey as I put out a pile for the smaller bird.
It stopped its incessant squawking which soothed my nerves exponentially.
“But you…” Aggressive magpie and I squared off for a second, but I dumped a spoonful in front of it.
“You’ve got your worms. Now cut veggies for the possums.” Little claws swarmed across my shoulders as small furry bodies consulted with the board as well. “Pellets for kangaroos and Nugget.”
Another bunt in my ankle made clear he was well aware of this. The worm container was snapped closed as the bossy magpie went back for more and then it was shoved into the fridge. A box of vegetables was brought out and as I grabbed the knife, the possums landed on the table.
“You could…”
Waiting was not possible, it appeared. As soon as I cut one chunk, a possum was grabbing it and scurrying off.
I kept on cutting until each critter had its paws occupied.
I was supposed to write down everything they ate to ensure their nutritional needs were being met, but the animals weren’t prepared to wait.
Kangaroo and wallaby paws clawed at the table as I grabbed the macropod pellets.
Moving over to the feeder, I led a furry procession, the heads all dropping down into the trough as soon as the food hit the metal.
Only for Nugget to come barrelling forward.
The joeys were all quite large, so they could’ve easily booted him away, but God needed to give me the confidence of a young male wombat, as he muscled between the kangaroos, then started munching.
Right as I went to put the pellets away and start the documentation, a truly horrendous sound cut through the air.
Looking up, a sleepy eyed koala stared down at me.
“Fresh gum tree leaves!” I said, rushing back towards the door when I remembered Charlie’s lesson from yesterday.
Only to walk face first into one of her brothers.
“Whoa!” Bronson’s hands clapped down on my shoulders, holding me in place. “Where’s the fire?” He noted the feeding frenzy going on. “No, scratch that. I know now. Charlie left you to deal with these idiots on your own?”
“It’s fine,” I said with a wave of my hand. “Now I need some gum leaves?” With a blink, I looked around me. “What’s a gum tree?”
Why the hell hadn’t I asked that question yesterday? I could’ve called Charlie, but some part of me wanted to get this done myself.
“Eucalyptus,” he explained with a smile. “There’s a few growing in the rescue, but the koalas go through that many leaves, you have to supplement the food.”
“Oh, I know what those trees are. The government planted lots of them where I’m from.”
Pulling out the knife from my pocket, I was about to head towards the nearby trees, when I looked down to see it wasn’t the little pink one I’d packed in my luggage.
“Did Troy give you Granddad’s hunting knife?”
Bronson seemed inordinately amused by this.
“He let me borrow it when I was feeding the cattle,” I said.
“And you didn’t plunge it into his back repeatedly during the process?” He snorted and made a show of looking me up and down. “Maybe you Yanks are made of stronger stuff than us.”
“Yank?” I asked as we walked towards a tree. “What like a Yankee?” My brows wrinkled. “That’s a baseball team where I’m from.”
“Ahh…” Bronson scratched the back of his neck. “A lot of us in the British empire call Americans Yanks.”
“Really? No one’s called someone a Yankee since the War of Independence,” I replied.
“So you probably don’t want to know the old World War Two rhyming slang then,” he said with a grin, pointing to a nearby tree. “That’s a blue gum, because the foliage is a bluey grey. The koalas like eating them a lot, but only the young leaves.”
He plucked the knife from my grip, unfolding the blade, then cut down several branches of leaves. I picked them up and started dragging them back to the rescue.
“What,” I ground out, “rhyming slang?”
“Seppos,” he replied blithely. “Septic tanks.”
“You named us after a reservoir of crap!”
“American soldiers were stationed in Australia during the war and getting all the girls.” He winked at me.
“Our boys were a little… frustrated at the attention the Ya… Americans were getting, so they came up with a suitable name for them. They also might’ve thought some of the U.S. officers were full of shit.”
“OK, I can accept that Australia is full of dangerous things and that you guys have a really weird sense of humour, but being called a Seppo? Nope, nuh uh, no way.”
He opened the door with a flourish.
“Well, seeing as you’re taking one for the team and helping Troy first thing in the morning, I think we can abide by that,” he said. “I’ll call you whatever you like if I don’t have to deal with Troy’s grumpy arse.”
But he wasn’t so grumpy this morning. I remembered every second of the moment he opened his bedroom door, including that small twist of a smile when he caught me looking at his dick. Maybe sexual harassment was the key to keeping the boss happy.
“I’ll feed the cattle and you won’t give me any nicknames that are sewer adjacent,” I said. “Got it.”
The koala moved a lot slower than the others, but his raucous cries made clear he was happy to see us. Bronson set up the other branches around the rescue, but as I reached up to place one of mine in the crook of the koala’s tree, it started to nibble on the leaves.
That’s when my heart stopped.
The moment was frozen in time and yet the koala’s leather nose wrinkled as it chewed on the leaves. Its grey fur looked so damn plush, I just wanted to snuggle the creature, but knowing it would stress it out stopped me. Instead, I watched in wonder, smiling as it ate one leaf, then another.
“Yeah, you’re a perfect fit here.” I looked up to see Bronson standing there, hand on his hip. “Charlie’s been dying for some help. We try to jump in where possible, but Troy’s always barking orders at us. Glad you joined us, Macca.”
“Not bad for a Seppo?” I asked with a grin.
“Not bad for a Seppo,” he agreed.
Not long after that, he got a call, forcing him to walk out and do whatever his brother ordered, but I was right where I wanted to be.
Water troughs were refilled and I went to work scooping up scat and tossing it where Charlie had shown me it went.
Oh, and that meme about square wombat poop?
Absolutely true, it appeared. I was mid way through filling a wheelbarrow full of old hay and bodily waste, when the door to the rescue opened.
“It’s OK,” I called out. Bronson said he’d try to get back and assist if possible. “There’s no need to help. I’ve got this.”
“Alright, I won’t then.” That cocky drawl, it was not familiar at all.
A man ambled closer, looking very pleased with himself.
That might be down to the fact he was the picture of blond, masculine perfection that the Hemsworth brothers exemplified.
He grinned at me as he came to a stop, then offered me his hand.
“Beau Argyle,” he said, “and who’re you, pretty?