Epilogue
Darana
Three weeks might seem like the blink of an eye anywhere else in the world, but in the heart of Birdsong Hills, three weeks are an eternity.
That’s exactly how long it takes for the red earth of the Outback to swallow the last traces of mud and don that wild mantle that takes your breath away beneath the morning sun.
I pull my leather gloves tight and lean against the railing of the vaccination pen.
My shoulder no longer aches; I barely feel a dull twinge when I make a movement that’s too sudden, and I’m healing by leaps and bounds.
Next to me, Joanie—with her stethoscope hanging around her neck and a dosing syringe in her hand—checks the teeth of one of the heifers.
Joanie isn’t just my best friend; she’s the best veterinarian in the entire district, and having her here to make sure the cattle are free of parasites after the floods is another reason to be happy.
“This one’s perfect too,” Joanie says, giving the animal an affectionate pat on the back to encourage it to move down the exit alley. “The cattle are strong. I was afraid the humidity would take its toll on them, but they’re tougher than we are.”
“They carry our family’s genetics,” I reply proudly, jotting down the data.
“Oh my goodness, if that man in the floral shirt keeps pulling on the reins like that, the horse is going to throw him into the middle of a thicket,” says a beautiful voice behind me.
I turn my head and see Camila leaning against the corral fence, watching us work while keeping an eye on the scene outside.
On the dirt trail, a group of ten tourists is moving slowly on horseback along one of the guided routes we’ve revived.
They look mesmerized, pointing their phones toward the horizon as if trying to bottle up the Australian desert.
Camila is wearing one of my favorite shirts—which I’ve already accepted she’ll never give back—and it looks so incredibly good on her that I get the crazy urge to drag her behind the hay bales and forget about my morning obligations.
“Let it go,” I tell her instead, winking at my girl as I walk toward the fence. “Wounded pride is an excellent teacher around here. Besides, they’ve paid the full high-season rate. If they bite the red dust, let them do it in style.”
Camila lets out a laugh and sashays toward me, swaying her hips with a swagger that sets my blood racing. She stops a hand’s breadth away—close enough for me to catch a whiff of her perfume.
“You’re relentless, Calloway,” she murmurs, reaching out to adjust the collar of my plaid shirt. Her fingers brush my skin, and a delicious shiver runs down my spine. Three weeks of absolute bliss sleeping together, and I still tremble like a little girl every time she touches me.
“Business is business, Bennet,” I reply in a hoarse voice, catching her hand for a second to brazenly kiss her palm, not caring that Joanie is only a few yards away from us. Camila smiles at me with a tenderness she now gives me unconditionally.
Joanie lets out a laugh from the end of the cattle alley, cleaning one of the veterinary probes.
“Stop that right now—the animals are going to get sick from all this sweetness floating in the air.”
“You’re just jealous, Doc,” Camila teases, winking at her.
“By the way, Ethan and Kira just sent a message. They’re in town installing the last geomagnetic frequency repeaters.
They had to ask the mayor for permission to run a high-voltage cable near the water tower, but it seems everything’s going smoothly.
The permanent meteorological lab is almost a reality. ”
“As long as your science team doesn’t fill my stables with colorful cables as if this were a movie about Martians…” I joke, wrapping my left arm around her waist and pulling her close.
“I promise we’ll be discreet, boss,” she teases, wrapping her arms around my neck and brushing her lips against mine in a quick kiss.
A sudden silence from Joanie interrupts our moment. We pull apart by a couple of inches, just enough to see our veterinarian standing motionless, her gaze completely lost and fixed on one particular horse.
Maddie is wearing tight pants, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she’s guiding the tourists with her usual mastery.
Joanie’s body language says it all: she’s head over heels for that woman.
Here she goes again, falling headfirst into the same bottomless pit. I step forward, moving away from Camila for a moment, and cross my arms before shooting my best friend a withering glare.
“Joanie,” I call out to her, “do me a damn favor and stop staring at Maddie if you don’t want her to let you down again. You know how things ended between you two last time, and I have absolutely no desire to pick up the pieces of you all over the estate again. That girl is poison for you.”
“I was just checking to see how everyone was doing.”
“Yeah, right, and I’m no expert in astrophysics, but I love tornadoes,” Camila says sarcastically with a smile, giving her an affectionate pat on the shoulder. “Listen to Darana, Joanie. That girl is a highly unstable storm front. We know from experience.”
Joanie snorts.
“Okay, I get it. Message received loud and clear, you two. You’re so in sync when it comes to being a pain in the neck—it’s obvious you sleep together,” she says, unafraid of the consequences.
“Changing the subject… shall we go to lunch already? I’m starving, and I think El Colibrí is serving Christian’s famous stew today. ”
“That’s music to my ears,” I reply, putting my arm around Camila’s shoulders.
As soon as we arrive, the three of us sit down at our usual table, devouring the stew amid laughter, sharing stories about the clumsiest tourists in the group, and discussing the blood tests Joanie has to take next week.
This is the blessed, noisy, and rowdy routine I missed so much—the absolute certainty that Birdsong Hills is back on track because the right pieces are, at last, in place.
Joanie is the first to leave as soon as she finishes her coffee, making up a lame excuse, though Camila and I know full well that she’s going to find some strategic spot from which to watch Maddie without me catching her. I watch her walk away at a brisk pace and shake my head.
“She’s going to trip over the exact same stone again, isn’t she?” Camila murmurs, reaching across the table to intertwine her fingers with mine.
“People raised in this part of the world have stubbornness in our very bones, you know that. Until she hits rock bottom and can’t get back up, she won’t learn her lesson,” I reply, turning her hand over to stroke the back of it with my thumb.
“But anyway, right now, even though it hurts, I can only bring myself to think about one thing.”
“Oh, really? And may I ask what’s going through that little head of yours?” she asks, raising an eyebrow with that mischievous, cheeky expression that drives me wild.
“Us. And that awesome plan we’ve been putting off for days.”
Camila smiles, licking her lips, and leans toward me, resting her elbows on the table and dangerously closing the distance between us.
“You mean the plan to kidnap you for the whole weekend at the cabin up north, block the front door with your work boots, and prove to you once and for all that a woman of science has way more stamina and resourcefulness than a cowgirl from the Outback?”
“That’s the one,” I admit with a roguish smile, feeling my blood race through my veins at a thousand miles an hour. “Although I seem to recall that the last clause we signed required you to make the coffee in the mornings and me to bring all the imagination to bed.”
“That sounds like a very favorable contract for both parties, Calloway,” Camila whispers in my ear. “You’re not going to get rid of me that easily. I’m here to stay, and I plan to rewrite all your maps,” she promises, brushing her nose against mine.
I shake my head, smiling like an idiot before capturing her lips.
“You don’t have to. Because… you know what?” Camila smiles at me. “Storms don’t scare me anymore when I look at them through your eyes.”