***
As she drove home, Anna let the plastic surgery idea wander around her head. It was something she’d considered a few years ago, not long after the injured rodeo bull tore her face almost in half. That wasn’t the only damage he’d done. The scars on her face didn’t actually hurt any more, but they had taken a different kind of physical toll. They itched sometimes. And the skin was uncomfortable when it pulled tight if she smiled or laughed. And she had to be extra careful not to get sunburnt. There was an emotional toll, too, on days like today. Days that stripped her of her confidence and left her feeling ugly and self-conscious.
The doctors had said they could make the scars less obvious, but after the months of physical healing, and even longer spent recovering her courage, the last thing Anna wanted to consider was more surgery. Her heart pounded at the mere thought of walking back into that hospital, with its cold, sterile hallways and rooms that smelled of antiseptic and fear. The doctors told her that people never remember actual physical pain. That might be so, but she remembered being in pain. Hour after hour. She remembered watching the bandages come off her face and seeing the shock in her parents’ eyes. She remembered her own shock the first time she looked in a mirror. Even now, on those few occasions when she looked at her face in the mirror, she saw the jagged line of black stitches, the bruising and the dark red line of damaged flesh. She knew the stitches were gone and the wound healed, but that’s not what she saw. Her hands were shaking as they gripped the wheel. She wouldn’t—couldn’t—go back.
The incident with the little girl wasn’t unique. Kids weren’t afraid to speak their minds, but for some reason, their words hurt less than the words adults didn’t say as their eyes moved quickly away from her face. It took people a long time to get used to her scars. Sometimes they winced when they saw her. As if they were the ones in pain. It was sometimes weeks before a new client could look her squarely in the face. She knew they didn’t mean to be cruel. Their reactions were simple human nature and she couldn’t hold it against them. When she’d first come to the Ridge, she’d faced those looks almost every day. But since then, people had come to know her and they’d become used to the way she looked. The scars didn’t shock anyone any more … Or if they did, people knew how to hide it. Instead of the scars, they saw the vet who had vaccinated a pet or saved an injured animal. That was why she had chosen a small town as her hiding place. A hiding place that had become a home.
Another face rose unbidden in her mind. A handsome, smiling firefighter, who had looked her in the eyes without flinching. Without turning away. Whose mere presence had made butterflies rise in wild flight inside her. He had looked at her without shock or distaste. But also without attraction. Would she be willing to face the surgery, in the hope that a man like that would smile at her in a very different way? The way men used to smile at her.
No. She would never want to be with a man who couldn’t love her as she was, scars and all.
But there was some temptation.
‘Don’t be a fool,’ she told herself out loud as she approached her clinic. ‘You were a pretty teenager. You had plenty of boyfriends at college. Even with the surgery, you would never be beautiful. So stop feeling sorry for yourself.’
There was a red station wagon parked near her native animal clinic and Anna was glad for the distraction. Carol had come to collect one of the animals that was ready to be released into the wild.
‘Come on in,’ she said after they’d exchanged greetings. Inside the clinic, the koala was dozing in its pen. ‘She’s ready to go now. Where are you planning to release her?’
‘She can’t go back where she came from. The fire took it all. There’ll be nothing for her to eat. But I saw some unburned areas not too far away from there, in a section that escaped the fire. I’ll take her there.’
Anna nodded. That made sense. Together they took the koala from her pen and put her inside the padded box that Carol always kept in the back of her car.
‘By the way,’ Anna asked as Carol moved to get into the car. ‘Did you ever get in touch with your son, Justin?’ She was proud that her voice was casual and showed no hint of her thoughts of only a few minutes ago.
Carol stopped in her tracks. ‘I tried. But he didn’t answer the phone.’
Anna was suddenly very ashamed. This was a difficult subject for Carol, but she had blundered in, just because she was attracted to someone who would never want her. Not that way. And now she’d hurt a friend who didn’t deserve that. ‘I’m sorry, Carol. It’s none of my business.’
‘No. No. It’s all right. I would like to talk to him. So if you happen to see him anywhere, please tell him that.’
‘I … I will.’
Carol nodded, got into her car and drove away without another word.
CHAPTER
8
Justin parked his four-wheel drive ute in one of the bays outside the plain, prefabricated building. The brothers got out and approached the front door, next to which was a roller door with a painting that appeared to be a koala wearing an RFS uniform. They’d seen the building when they were here for the recent fire, but hadn’t been inside. The hall across the road had offered food and drink, and that was what they’d needed.
Justin had brought the keys from Tamworth and he opened the door.
‘So, brother, what do you think of our fancy new accommodations?’
Ben dropped his rucksack on the floor and looked around as they stepped inside.
Justin’s first thought was for the truck parked facing the closed roller door. It was a standard RFS unit—designed to carry both water and firefighters and all the tools they might need. They would easily fit four—maybe six—firefighters in the big dual cab. The tanks would carry about three thousand litres of water. The lockers along the side of the vehicle would hold chainsaws, a first aid kit, breathing apparatus and emergency supplies for the crew. The two hoses on the reels at the back of the truck looked almost new. This vehicle hadn’t seen a lot of fires. Tomorrow, he and Ben would check everything was working and ready to go at a moment’s notice.
‘Nice truck,’ Justin said, then turned to survey the rest of their temporary home. ‘It’s not too bad.’
The building where they’d be spending the next couple of weeks had been built for practicality, not luxury. Lockers lined the walls, and the kitchen was large and airy. Big enough to prepare meals for a firefighting gang. The living area had a good-sized table for eating those meals, three big, comfortable-looking sofas and, surprisingly, a flat-screen TV. A door led to the ‘living’ quarters—two rooms that each held four bunk beds—and there was a shared bathroom at the end of the short hallway.
Ben immediately claimed one end of the table, and set up his laptop and assorted other technical bits. Justin shook his head. His brother was never offline for long. Justin was more interested in somewhere to sleep and claimed one of the bunk rooms for himself.
It didn’t take them long to get their things unpacked and the place in working order. They filled the kitchen with basics brought from home. Anything else they could get locally tomorrow. Justin emailed the commander from his phone to let him know they were in.
‘We should go to the pub for dinner,’ Ben suggested as he sat at the table, still doing things with his computer.
