Black Ice (13 page)

J.D. emerged from a shed as they approached the van, and walked across to them. He had a rifle slung over his shoulder, and a dusty old Akubra hat tipped back on his head.

'Turned into a fence crawler,' he indicated the bull with an inclination of his head, then saw Daniel's enquiring look. 'Damaged one too many fences trying to get into the cows in the next paddock. Been fighting the other bulls and causing injuries. He's turned mean, so he has to go.'

Daniel nodded his understanding. 'My grandpa has the same problem on his ranch. You have to weed them out before the offspring do the same.'

'I'll just let Ted know I'm ready. Once I've shot the bull, he'll bring the van over and haul the carcass up and hang it.' J.D. turned towards a stockily built man leaning against the van.

As J.D. walked away, Cate called out, 'Kirri, Catelyn wants to be with you. She's on her way.'

Daniel and Kirri watched the child as she ran towards them. As Catelyn passed the holding yard that confined the bull, the cloth hat her great-grandmother had jammed on her springy curls bounced off into the dirt. Kirri smiled at the frown of annoyance on her daughter's face, and the frustration as she stopped running and stomped back to retrieve the hat. It had been hard to impress on Catelyn the need to protect herself against sunburn, and Kirri was pleased to see the lesson had been absorbed.

As Catelyn squatted down to retrieve the hat, a butterfly flew past her and landed on the lowest fence rail.

Catelyn straightened, hat forgotten, then squealed with delight as the butterfly flew into the yard.

Without a moment's hesitation, she plopped down and crawled under the rail.

Kirri Smith's bedroom revealed nothing that could give Brett a clue to where she might have gone. Although clothes were still in the wardrobe, the room had an air of impermanence, as though the occupant had been reluctant to make herself feel like she belonged there.

He rifled through the chest of drawers, careful to leave no evidence of his search. A minute was all he needed to go over the rest of the bedroom, his gloved hands leaving no trace of his activities. The kitchen presented no challenge at all. No personal papers, no letters, no notepads. If she'd had those, she must have taken them with her. There was nothing in the fridge of a perishable nature, the only sign she might not be returning within a day or two.

The bathrooms of many women had taught him that the few items left in this one were a good indication that the owner had definitely left. When deodorant, toothbrush and toothpaste were gone, it was a safe bet their owner would be away for a while.

Annoyance hastened his movements, and he jerked opened the door to the other room opening off the living room. The door banged into a painting leaning up against the wall, and he cursed silently. His gaze swept the room. Furniture, paintings. Nothing that would give him a clue to Kirri's whereabouts.

Just as he was about to leave he spotted some papers on a cane chair. He walked over and picked them up. A letter, addressed to Kirri and signed Gran, and two other pieces of paper covered in meaningless blotches of paint. He read the letter quickly, a strange feeling seeping into him at the love and caring so obvious in the scrawled words. Words that explained how much someone called Catelyn, obviously a child, missed Kirri, and how she had painted the "splotches" for her "Mum Mum".

Love. He'd almost forgotten the meaning of the word. Weak and ineffectual though his own mother might have been in trying to defend him from her abusive husband, he had always believed she had loved him. He'd clung to that belief, telling himself she must not have been aware of the way Harry slyly touched him when she wasn't looking.

Harry. Just the thought of his name caused Brett to shudder. He'd never been able to think of Harry as Dad, because Harry had never acted like other kids' fathers. Had never been an involved parent, had never shown love and affection. Not the kind of love Brett knew fathers
should
show. And Harry's treatment of Brett's mother, Gloria, had ranged between emotional and physical abuse, depending on how much alcohol he'd been able to consume.

When Harry's coffin had been lowered into the ground, Brett's thirteen year old body had shaken with relief. Five years later his mother had died of a heart attack, and took with her to the grave Brett's belief that there was at least someone in the world who loved him.

He'd been concentrating so much on the contents of the letter that he failed to hear the front door open. Only a voice calling Kirri's name alerted him that he was no longer alone.

Quickly, he dropped the papers, moved silently behind the door, and peered out through the tiny gap between the door and the jamb.

 

'Catelyn!'

Kirri's scream rang in Daniel's ears as he sprinted towards the holding yard.

The bull had reacted instantly to the invasion of its prison. Heavy hoofs pawed the ground, puffing dirt up to its belly. A wild look widened its eyes. Muscles trembled with the surge of adrenaline through the massive body.

Daniel saw Catelyn look towards the bull, reach out a small hand.

The yard was big, but it would take only seconds for the bull to reach Catelyn once it began its charge. Daniel realised he wouldn't have enough time to reach Catelyn and pull her from the yard before the bull hit her.

His pounding feet changed direction slightly, and he prayed his height and strength would give him the advantage he needed.

The bull lowered its head to charge.

 

Len Woodford was sure he'd heard a noise coming from Kirri's flat. If he hadn't been coming in his front door after collecting the mail he doubted he would have heard it. Kirri wasn't normally home during the day, but her van was still in the carport. Maybe she was sick?

He limped over to her front door, hoping, like he did every day, the pain from his arthritis would ease enough for him to once again enjoy his gardening. He knocked on Kirri's door. Waited. Knocked again. Still no reply. What if she had injured herself, or was too ill to come to the door?

He turned the handle.

The door wasn't locked. He stepped into the room, calling out her name. She was such a thin little thing. His wife was always saying how a pretty little girl like that needed someone to look after her, fatten her up. Perhaps he could ask her if she'd like to have afternoon tea with him. Martha had left him some pumpkin scones. He frowned. Better see if she was all right. He limped over to the bedroom. Empty.

Now he was really worried.

 

Brett debated whether he would be able to slip out without being seen, but the man's reappearance in the living room negated that. Brett watched him go into the bathroom, peering around the door as though to ensure no-one was behind it.

Shit! If he came into this room - Brett's mind raced. There was nowhere he could hide. The ensemble bed was too low, and he would have to pass the open doorway to reach the only wardrobe.

He looked again through the gap.

The old man glanced around, then made his way towards the room where Brett was hiding.

Brett's right hand slipped into his shorts pocket, to the rounded butt of his snub-nose .38 pistol. He pulled it out, hefted it in his hand, feeling its coolness, its heaviness.

He hoped the old man wouldn't come into the room. But if that happened, he was ready.

 

Daniel's leap carried him to the top rail as the bull began to charge.

Fear shot extra strength through his legs as he propelled himself off the rail. He landed on the bull's back, bones jarring, and swung his legs either side of the dark hump.

The animal bellowed his shock, but didn't deviate from its objective.

Daniel grabbed the bull's ear and nose, wrenched its head up and around. He saw the surprise on Catelyn's face as the animal swerved, saliva from its mouth and nostrils spraying over her pink coveralls.

She fell backwards onto her bottom just as Kirri reached under the rail and grabbed her.

Daniel had barely a second to feel a surge of relief at his daughter's safety before the bull went berserk. It twisted, pounded, gyrated off the ground.

It flung itself against the rails, and a cry of agony burst from Daniel as his leg was squashed between a tonne of rampaging bull and unyielding timber.

Through a haze of pain he realised he'd have to get off the animal's back before it flung him to the ground and trampled him.

As the bull twisted again, Daniel threw his uninjured leg across its back and jumped to the ground. He rolled as he hit the dirt, and kept rolling under the bottom rail.

A shot rang out.

The bull's wild cavorting ceased abruptly. Its front legs crumpled. In a slow motion pantomime of its earlier movements it shuddered, and fell to the ground.

 

Kirri's face was pale with shock as she hugged Catelyn. Then she passed the child to her grandmother and knelt beside Daniel. 'Are you all right?'

Daniel looked past her to Catelyn. Her wriggling attempts to escape Cate's restraining arms reassured him his daughter was okay. Hell, he'd thought he'd known what fear was until he'd seen her in danger. Then the bottom had dropped out of his stomach and his lungs had felt as though they were paralysed. The short run to the yard felt as though it had taken a lifetime.

'I'm fine. But I'm not sure my leg is.' He sat up, then tried to push himself to his feet. Pain shafted through his right leg and it gave way beneath him. Only his outstretched hands saved him from falling face down in the dirt.

A pair of dusty boots walked into his view. Then J.D. reached down his hand. 'Come on, mate.'

'You can't make him stand up!' Kirri's voice was indignant. 'What if his leg is broken?'

Daniel rolled over and sat up again.

'I don't think it is. I've had broken bones before, so I know what they feel like.' He grasped J.D.'s hand and hauled himself upright.

Swiftly J.D. pulled Daniel's arm over his shoulder, then slid his own arm around Daniel's back. 'Think you can make it up to the house?' J.D. asked.

Daniel saw the warm approval in his eyes, and nodded.

'Huh!' Kirri whirled away. 'Typical macho male!' she fumed. She took Catelyn from her grandmother and stomped off towards the house.

J.D. grinned. 'You've put a burr under her saddle, Dan.' He looked at Daniel with new respect. 'She must care about you more than she lets on.'

Daniel looked at Kirri's retreating back. Catelyn's dark hair bounced in rhythm with Kirri's fiery curls. His gut ached with fierce need. He needed those two females in his life more than he needed to breathe.

He hoped J.D. was right.

 

The bruising on Daniel's hip and thigh from the impact with the four wheel drive had just begun to fade. Now another massive bruise had formed from mid-thigh down to his knee. Daniel was sure the bone wasn't broken, but the muscle would take a few days to heal. While J.D. helped the butcher, Daniel rubbed liniment Cate had given him into his leg.

He'd just pulled his jeans back on when a knock sounded on his bedroom door. He called out to come in and Kirri opened the door. 'I was wondering …' she began, 'That is, if you feel up to it … It's Emma and Drew's wedding rehearsal after lunch and Gran is doing some cooking for the wedding tomorrow …' Her voice trailed off.

Daniel waited. Whatever she was trying to say obviously wasn't coming easy to her.

'Emma and Drew - they're not well off, and they do so much to help street kids, so all the people in the valley are helping out with the wedding reception.'

Daniel was grateful he wasn't short on patience. He nodded encouragingly at Kirri. She took a deep breath.

'Would you look after Catelyn for me while I go to the rehearsal?'

Daniel caught the way her right hand came up to rub at her neck, then shove quickly into her jeans pocket. She was nervous! But why? Puzzled, he looked at her another minute before understanding.
She was trusting him with Catelyn
.

Questions crowded his mind. Was she nervous because she didn't normally allow someone other than family to look after her daughter? Or because she was letting him become part of Catelyn's life? And hers? He hoped fervently it was the latter.

'I'd be happy to,' he said quietly.

 

Emma Randall swirled her wedding dress around for Kirri to admire. The rich butter crepe was a perfect complement to her toffee coloured hair and pale skin.

Kirri felt a sharp pang of envy. Daniel had said he had asked her to marry him. But three days ago he said he now wanted to be her friend. At first she'd been relieved to hear that. But with every hour in his company she was beginning to wish …

'What are you going to do about Daniel?' Emma's quiet words echoed Kirri's own question.

'Well,' she murmured, 'I'd like Catelyn to know her father …'

'But?'

'But I don't know how long he plans to stay in Australia. What happens when he goes back to the States? If Catelyn grows to love him, it will break her heart when he leaves.'

Emma sat down on the bed beside Kirri. 'You're not really talking about Catelyn, are you, Kirri?' She looked at the frown on her friend's face. 'Why don't you ask Daniel what his plans are?' Kirri shrugged, and Emma sighed. 'Sometimes, my friend, I think you're even more independent than I am.'

'But you're getting married!'

'Yes, but Drew nearly died before I realised how much I loved him. Now I couldn't imagine life without him. Sometimes …'

Kirri was surprised to see her friend blush.

'Sometimes,' Emma continued, 'I just think about him, about the way he frowns when he's reading case notes, or the patience he has with the street kids, or the way he raises one eyebrow when he's puzzled about something, and I feel so much love for him I'm astonished by it. And I haven't given up my independence - I've just changed what I wanted out of life.'

Emma reached into her jeans pocket, brought out a couple of keys on a keyring and handed it to Kirri. 'We'll be away for three weeks, Kirri, so if you need to stay at our house, or use my car, you're most welcome. I've left a key with Mum too, and Drew's had spares cut for Chayse, but it's highly unlikely he'll use them.' She sighed. 'We'll be lucky if he can make the wedding.'