Bella's Run (35 page)

Bella shrugged. ‘That’s just the way I do things now. I’ve changed.’ She knew she sounded defensive but she couldn’t help herself. Why did this man infuriate her so much? Why did she feel she had something to prove?

Meanwhile, Will watched her, noting the way her arms crossed defensively in front of her enhanced the voluptuous bust that weeks ago had sent him crazy. He remembered the feel of that body, the taste of those breasts, and the flaming heat of passion that burned between them on Hugh’s Plain.

He didn’t
want
to give in to his own need to hurt her now, to wield words that would cut her deeply – they just came tumbling from his mouth unbidden, like a toey horse not ready to be reined in. He sure as hell didn’t need her here, luring him. He’d had enough of that at Ben Bullen. He couldn’t get that afternoon out of his head; it had become a constant part of his dreams.

Correction – it had become his nightmare for she was engaged to marry someone else.

‘Well, I do believe you
have
changed, Little Miss Chic City Girl. But I’ll tell you something else,
sweetheart
. It’s five o’clock somewhere in the world right now, so sit down and have a bloody drink.’

Bella caught the echo of Macca. He’d said those same words to her a few weeks earlier – twenty-four hours before she’d lain naked on a remote, thickly grassed clearing, making love to this bloke.

Will pushed hard against the drench drum with his foot and shoved a bottle at her. ‘You’d better remember just how we do things in the bush,’ he said, raising his beer bottle to mid-height in salute. ‘Otherwise you’re going to bloody well die of thirst before you hightail it back to that toffy city of yours and your
fi-an-cé
.’

She was fighting the urge to deck him with the beer bottle he’d so ungraciously thrust into her hand, when Maggie’s voice rang out.

‘Bella, my love, you’re here!’ her aunt said, lumbering up the stairs near the back door. ‘How good to see you. Did Caro catch you about the dung beetles? She called here first. And Will! I’ll get your bolt-cutters in a sec. You’ll take those beetles up to Ben Bullen, won’t you, Will, and release them for Trin? You’re heading up that way tomorrow, yes? It’ll save Bella from doing it, there’s a boy. And thanks so much for getting Bella a drink. You must be tired and thirsty, my pet.’

Maggie bustled onto the verandah, Turbo barking excitedly at her heels. ‘Isn’t it good you’ve got such a capable man down the road to look after you while I’m away cruising the seven seas!’ Maggie stopped behind Will’s chair to ruffle his red-gold hair.

‘Yes, she’s
really
lucky, Maggie,’ said Will flatly. He stood and offered her his seat.

‘You’re a love, thank you so much.’ She patted the drench drum beside her chair, the same one Will had offered Bella earlier, and beckoned to her niece. ‘Now sit down here, sweetheart, and tell me all about your drive up. Are your mum and dad excited about our trip? I haven’t thought of anything else for weeks!’

While Will leaned against a verandah pole, peeling at little flakes of creamy paint, Bella sat down on the drum and tried to answer her aunt’s questions politely. The whole time very aware of the brooding man listening intently to her words.

‘So, what did old Wozza say when you told him you were disappearing up here for six months?’ Will asked as he shut the gate behind Maggie’s departing Range Rover the next afternoon.

‘Nothing,’ muttered Bella, moving back towards the house.

‘Beg your pardon?’ Will jogged to catch up.

‘Nothing,’ she repeated.

‘Nothing?’ Will’s voice was disbelieving. ‘His fiancée tells him she’s going away for six months and he says nothing?’

‘I didn’t tell him.’ It slipped from Bella’s mouth before she could stop it.

‘You
what
?’

Bella swung around to face him. ‘I didn’t tell him, okay. Well . . . I did tell him but, not face to face. I left him a note.’

‘You left him a
note
?’

‘Yes. That’s what I said. You know, a page with words on it.’ Bella knew she was being churlish but she didn’t care. ‘He was busy. Work had a takeover bid on and I just didn’t get a chance to talk to him. So I did the next best thing and left a letter. Plus, it’s none of your business anyway!’

‘No, I suppose it’s not.’ Will looked at her bare left hand. ‘Where’s your ring?’

Bella mounted the verandah steps and turned to face him, both hands on her hips. ‘I left it in Melbourne, if you must know. Not much use to me out here. Look. You really must have heaps to do. I’m fine here now, but thanks for coming to see Maggie off. It meant a lot to her.’ Bella’s tone left no doubt, she couldn’t see why herself.

‘Mmm . . . I guess I know when I’m not wanted,’ Will said with a grin, making the dimples on his cheeks dance.

Bella glanced away. Her body was betraying her; she couldn’t look for fear of what her eyes, her face would say.

Wuss!
Patty’s voice echoed.
Never knew you to be a piker, Hells Bells.
Bella immediately lifted her head and looked Will dead in the eye. ‘I’ll be seeing you around, no doubt. Thanks for coming. Now,
goodbye
.’

Will could take a hint. He’d found out most of what he needed to know anyway. He drove away from Maggie’s place, a thoughtful expression on his face, a quiet and almost cheerful whistle sliding through his teeth. She’d left the ring behind, hey? That had to mean something.

He was starting to look forward to the next few months.

Chapter 33

‘Around’ ended up being the next Saturday afternoon.

The week after Maggie’s departure had seen Bella settle into a peaceful but busy routine. Before leaving Melbourne she had emailed her old boss from the Department of Agriculture, David Neille, with whom she’d kept in sporadic contact over the years. She’d asked him if he knew of any contract work she could do from home now she was jobless and back in the country. Maggie was supplying her utilities and meat and she had savings in the bank, but a bit of money coming in wouldn’t go astray either, she’d decided.

He’d replied immediately.

‘You’re a flaming godsend, Bella. I’ve got a Landcare project which is half finished. The girl doing it has had to toss it in unexpectedly. It’s something you’ll be able to do no worries, in fact I think you’ll love it. We’re drawing up project plans for some Landcare groups in the area. You’ll need to be able to travel, but only locally, and we’ll provide you with a computer and mobile phone. You’ll just need internet access so you can upload written reports to us back here at the office. It pays pretty well. Are you interested?’

She replied,
‘Yes please!’
and was pleasantly surprised at how much she was looking forward to it. She’d loved working with farmers in the old days and hadn’t realised how much she’d missed it.

By Wednesday Bella had started a pattern to her days. Farm work kept her outside and busy in the mornings. She rose around seven and was finished in the house by eight. After letting Turbo off his chain and the chooks into their run, she fed Maggie’s two poddy calves with some cow’s milk old Wes Ogilvie dropped off every few days.

She’d found it a stinky job because after a third day in the drum, the milk smelled disgusting and was starting to congeal into sticky, white lumps. She didn’t have to heat the milk, she just poured it into a four-teated feeder, tipping it on an angle as she latched it on the gate. The Shorthorn and Hereford Cross calves could then feed from two teats rather than using four.

The calves always came running, and she laughed at their antics while they were trying to find which teats to drink from. The looks of confusion on their faces when they sucked only air at the top end of the feeder were hilarious. Sometimes she had to help them find the teat that was running with milk, and then their little tails would swing briskly to and fro in delight.

After the calves were done she usually cranked up the four-wheel motorbike, loaded Turbo onto the carryall and took off down the farm track towards the river, checking all was well in the paddocks along the way.

Maggie had sold most of her stock once she knew she was going on her trip. She normally bought in eight- to nine-month-old steers and then grew them out to eighteen- to twenty-four months. She usually tried to get them up to the four hundred kilo mark before she sold them off, she had told Bella before she left – and the year before she had even managed a five hundred kilo Murray Grey. She also had a handful of breeders, heifer calves she’d reared up herself. She hadn’t been able to part with these but she assured Bella there was only one of them due to autumn calve.

‘She’ll be okay, it’s her third calf, but just keep an eye on her all the same,’ she’d noted to Bella on their drive around. ‘If she looks like she’s in trouble, just ring Will or old Wes, they’ll come up and give you a hand to calve her down.’

There was a fair bit of feed around for this time of the year, so Maggie had wanted her to strip-graze the paddocks using a portable electric fence that needed to be moved every couple of days – otherwise the small herd of cows would have just indiscriminately trampled down a whole paddock of good feed.

So Bella checked on the cows every day, winding up, moving and resetting the electric fence when she judged fresh feed was needed. Then she and Turbo cased out the rest of the farm, enjoying their morning’s drive in fresh mountain air.

Afternoons were devoted to her departmental contract work, of which she was still in the research stage. Wading through a pile of reading including Catchment strategies and previous Landcare group plans, she wanted to get a handle on everything before she met the Landcare group members face to face.

And so by Saturday afternoon, other than a barrage of emails from a cross and confused Warren (which she’d manage to ignore), there had been no hiccups to upset what was a very enjoyable week.

‘Thought you might need a bit of firewood.’ A deep voice spoke, causing her to bump her head on the low chook-house roof. She’d been head-in, arse-out, cleaning the nesting boxes, which had been in dire need of new straw.

‘What the . . . ?’ Bella cursed, rubbing her head.

‘It’s going to come in a bit rough next week, and I normally cut Maggie’s firewood for her. You’re running low, I noticed last Sunday, so I thought I’d better do something about it,’ said Will, moving to lean on the chook-yard post while watching her rub her noggin.

‘You?
You
do something about it? I don’t think so, bucko. I’m more than capable of using a chainsaw!’ Bella was indignant.

Will surveyed her faded pink drill shirt, worn Wranglers and battered Redback boots. ‘I’m sure you are, Hells Bells, but seeing as the wood is in
my
paddock I reckon it’s
my
right to use
my
chainsaw. Plus,’ he added with a wicked grin, ‘Maggie’s chainsaw is in the repair shop.
My
repair shop, waiting for a new chain and bar.’