Breakaway Creek. Heather GarsideЧитать онлайн книгу.
You make it hard sometimes.'
She made a derisive noise in her throat. 'I thought we were supposed to be related.'
'Oh yeah, thirty-second cousins or something.' His voice had a husky catch to it. 'That's if we're related at all. We haven't worked out who Alexander was yet.'
'I'm not so sure I should be staying, now.' It was a miracle her voice sounded cool when he had her thoughts so agitated. He shook his head.
'I was kidding. I'm not looking for anything, Shelley. Officially, I'm still married. Although she has been gone a while.'
A breathless, involuntary laugh escaped her throat.
'When I heard about the job here, I pictured a pair of desperate and dateless hillbillies. Then I met you and that notion didn't fit. Now you're making me think again.'
He shook his head, a wry smile twisting his mouth as he changed the Toyota's gears.
'Desperate and dateless, that's me.'
Heart thudding, she turned to stare out the window, realising it was sensible to end this conversation right now. The suggestive undertones were too disturbing for comfort, considering she'd met this man only a couple of hours before. A man who, as he'd just reminded her, was still legally married.
Before the silence became too uncomfortable, Luke drew the Toyota up to a set of stockyards.
'Here we are,' he announced. He got out of the vehicle and waited for Shelley to join him. 'These are the calves we've just weaned from their mothers.'
Shelley joined him at the stockyard rails, peering through them at the mob of sleek red animals that fled to the far side of the yard at their approach. Dust floated over them, thick with the acrid stink of cow manure. She looked down at her clothes and grimaced. She'd need a shower after this.
'They're still a bit touchy, but they'll settle down over the next few days.'
'How many are there?' It was a relief to have a safe, unromantic topic like cattle to discuss.
'We counted two hundred and twenty-six. The hay's in that shed over there.' He gestured at a corrugated-iron building a hundred metres away. 'I'll bring it over with the tractor. Can you let me through the gate when I get here? Make sure none of the weaners get out.'
He pointed to several round hay feeders.
'I'll drop the bales of hay into those.'
Surely that wouldn't be too hard, Shelley thought. Except when she opened the gate, which obviously swung inwards, she would have to walk into the yard with the cattle. They weren't very big, but still...
Luke must have noticed her apprehensive glance. His face softened.
'You can get in there. They won't hurt you - they're more scared of you than you are of them.'
She waited beside the gate while he walked over to the shed. The tractor started with a roar and soon came trundling towards her, a huge round bale of hay speared high on the front forks. The noise made the calves retreat to the far side of the yard. This was easy, she thought. Shelley unlatched the chain and swung the gate wide as he drove through, then held it closed as he eased the machine close to the nearest feeder and tilted the forks downwards, dropping the bale of hay neatly into it. When he drove out of the yard, Shelley chained the gate behind him and waited for him to return with the next bale.
When all the feeders were full, he left the tractor and walked back to join her.
'We have to cut the twine off now.' He grabbed a large knife that had been wedged against the gatepost. 'Do you want to help?'
It would have been easy to say no. Already the cattle were crowding around the hay, snatching mouthfuls from the top of each bale above the webbing that encased it. But she didn't want to seem like a complete wuss.
She nervously followed him into the yard, ready to take refuge on the rail if necessary. The cattle moved away at their approach and she began to help him pull the webbing off as he cut it free. Then one bold animal ventured to the opposite side of the feeder, snatching a mouthful of hay. Its companions began to follow and she shouted at them, waving her arms in the air. Startled, they ran to the furthest side of the yard.
'Hey!'
She swung around at Luke's yell, to find him glaring at her.
'Don't frighten the cattle. We're trying to get 'em quiet!'
Chastened, she continued pulling off the netting, watching the cattle all the while. But it seemed the damage had been done. They didn't come close again.
After they'd finished, she sat on the top rail and watched as he spent ten minutes walking amongst the weaners, talking to them in a soothing voice. They soon stopped rushing away from him and began to snatch hungry mouthfuls from the feeders, watching Luke warily but accepting his presence. When he swung to the rail beside her he gave her a rueful look.
'I guess that's my fault. I didn't tell you."
Her face heated.
'I'm sorry - I know nothing about cattle.'
'At least you're willing to have a go. That's something.' He vaulted to the ground. 'Come on, I'm finished here.'
****
Back at the homestead, Shelley left Luke in the shed, patching a punctured motorbike tyre, while she returned to the house. She was hot and sweaty and her clothes and skin ponged of the cattle yards. She fetched her suitcase from the car, unpacked a few things and laid them out on the second bed in her room, then headed for the bathroom to shower off the fine layer of dirt.
Once fresh and clean, she checked the computer, which had finished its scan, and did a disc clean up. Then she ventured to the kitchen, looked dubiously at the pile of dirty dishes in the sink and decided it wouldn't kill her to do a bit of washing up. She was just wiping down the table when Luke came in with a young man she assumed was his brother.
He looked pleasantly surprised.
'Thanks for doing that, Shelley. This is my brother Mitch.'
The newcomer was an inch or two shorter and more compactly built than Luke. He stepped forward with an open, easy-going smile and took her hand in his large, calloused one. He looked significantly at the sink.
'Going on the improvement in here, you're welcome to stay as long as you like.'
She smiled.
'Don't get excited. That was an aberration.'
'Can you cook?' Mitch jabbed a thumb in his brother's direction. 'You've gotta be better than him.'
'You should talk.' Luke hung his hat on a hook just inside the door and grinned at Shelley. 'He's the worst cook in Australia. Come on, mate, set the table while I get the food out.'
Luke cut slices of corned beef while Shelley made a salad with lettuce, tomatoes and cucumbers. She voiced her surprise at the well-stocked fridge and Mitch grinned.
'I'm used to fending for myself and Miranda was never at home, so Luke did plenty of batching. It's just the cleaning that gets on top of us.'
Shelley glanced at Luke. His mouth had a grim line to it, dissuading her from any comment. It didn't sound as if Miranda had ever been the settled country wife.
'What'd you find out this morning?' Mitch asked as they sat to their places at the table. 'Any luck with that ancestor of yours, Shelley?'
'Luke found him in a photo.' Shelley passed him the salad bowl. 'But he's a bit of a mystery. His birth and marriage aren't recorded in the bible, like the rest of your family. We're wondering if he was adopted, or something.'
'We're going to look through the old house tomorrow,' Luke said. 'Check out that stuff in the ceiling.'
'Good idea. I hope you find something. You've come a long way for nothing, otherwise.'
She smiled at Mitch.
'Even