‘You know, big brother, I thought about it. I tried. But the reality is, I’ve lived all these years without her. I don’t need her. And to be honest, I don’t trust her. Every time I looked at her, I’d be reminded of the way she treated us. Reminded that she lied to me for seventeen years. Now, if you want to see her, that’s your choice. Just don’t ask me to. I’m doing fine without her.’ He took a deep pull on his beer.
Justin wasn’t so sure about that. Ben had gone back to his old self as soon as they’d left the Ridge; his drinking was under control and he was no longer behaving like a kid on the verge of a temper tantrum. Good as that was, it did suggest Ben had real issues to deal with. He had to sort those issues out himself, although Justin would help if he could.
‘Fine. Well, I’ll be going. It’s a long drive, so I’ll stay overnight.’ Justin felt, rather than saw, the sideways glance and raised eyebrows Ben sent in his direction.
‘Say hi to people for me.’
Justin didn’t answer.
The two sat gazing out over the dry landscape. There was no green in the grass and even the gum trees looked wilted and thirsty. Their place overlooked a park, but it was brown, much of the earth bare. A brief, strong, willy-willy stirred, the dust rising metres into the air before the wind dropped and the dust drifted back to earth. In the distance, huge thunderheads reared into the sky, edged with silver but dark and foreboding in the middle. The clouds were moving closer.
‘Storm coming,’ Ben said.
Justin didn’t need to reply. They both knew the storm meant one of two things. It might bring some much-needed rain. But maybe those clouds held nothing but thunder and lightning. The biggest cause of bushfires was lightning strikes. They might be busy in the days ahead.
Both men took another drink.
CHAPTER
29
After the violent and stormy night, lit by lightning and punctuated by loud blasts of thunder, Anna walked outside into a world that was as dry as it had been the day before. Despite the storm, little rain had fallen, and it had soaked into the parched earth, leaving no sign of its passing. The air still had that harsh, dry feel that promised a scorcher of a day.
She jumped into her car and set off. Her assistant Shea had a day off, but Anna was certain she wouldn’t need her. If anything, this morning’s appointment was one she would rather do alone. She flexed her hands on the steering wheel.
The stud was a good forty-minute drive, and as she pulled off the road through the gate, Anna almost wished it was a little further. Maybe a lot further. It would have been nice to have a little more time to prepare for this encounter. But deep down, she knew that all the time in the world wouldn’t really have made her any more prepared. Wouldn’t have taken away the core of fear that was seated deep inside her. She parked the car and took a firm hold on her feelings. She was a vet, and a good one. This was part of the job. She could do this.
‘Hi, Anna, good to see you.’
The last time she’d seen Paul, he’d been bloodied and desperate, lying on a stretcher, begging her to save his bull’s life. While she’d done that and sent the animal home again, Paul had been recuperating in hospital. After almost two weeks, he was home again, but walking with a crutch and still moving carefully.
‘Hi, Paul. How are you?’
‘I’m fine. Healing slowly, but I am healing. And as for Freddie, he’s doing even better.’
‘I’m glad to hear it.’
‘He’s out today. Come on. I’ll take you to him.’
Anna followed Paul to a strong, metal-railed fence surrounding a small paddock. The paddock had the only green grass Anna had seen for days, testament to the irrigation pipes she could see nearby.
‘I thought some pasture would be good for him,’ Paul said. ‘It’s not going to last long, and I won’t be doing any more irrigation until it rains. The creek is way down.’
‘Everywhere’s the same,’ Anna answered without thinking. All her attention was on the big red Brangus bull grazing near the middle of the paddock. He looked good, a real champion, which she knew he was. He was recovering well. He looked fit and strong and quite magnificent. He lifted his head as Paul banged a metal bucket. The animal obviously recognised the signal, and turned in their direction. And that’s when everything changed.
The bull wasn’t beautiful any more. His left side was a mass of scars. They were healing, but were still new and livid. The muscles of his chest were misshapen and he moved stiffly, almost limping. As he drew closer, more scars became visible. The skin was puckered and uneven. Anna’s heart clenched.
‘I am sorry there is so much scarring,’ she said. ‘The wounds were so bad.’
‘Don’t worry. I understand. I’m so pleased he survived. And so grateful to you for doing what you did.’
‘You’re welcome. I’m a vet. That’s my job.’
‘It was above and beyond,’ Paul insisted. ‘A lot of vets wouldn’t have done that.’
‘Not my first rodeo.’ The words were out before Anna could stop them.
Paul frowned and studied her face. ‘What do you mean?’
