Kym gives Miffy a hug and a kiss on the head before she stands back up. I can't help but feel a flutter in my chest at the sight of her when she smiles my way. I've been on the road for so long, constantly moving from one job to the next, never really stopping to think about settling down. But something about Kym and this farm is different. Maybe it's the way she looks at me, or the feeling of home I get when I'm here. Either way, I know one thing for sure: I want to get to know this woman more before I leave.
"Thanks for watching her this afternoon," she says as Miffy runs back over to me and picks up the sock.
"It was my pleasure. She's better company than this rowdy lot," I say, gesturing to the bunkhouse behind me. There's a lot of raised voices and laughter coming from the inside as the guys argue over the cooking and cleaning roster.
"You all settled in?"
"Pretty much. I've claimed my bunkroom, and I don't care so much about the work roster. So I'm just leaving the rest of them to it."
"Are they always like this?"
"It varies from job to job. There are always new faces who want things their way."
"I see."
"And how about you? Are you heading out?" I nod toward her, my eyes lowering to her figure-flattering dress. There's just something about sundresses that really gets me going. Probably the fact the flowing skirt provides such easy access to the promised land...
"What? Oh no. I'm not that fun. I'm just heading to the farmhouse to have dinner with my brother and his wife."
"They seem nice. We all met them a little earlier."
"You..." She presses her lips together and tucks a stray curl behind her ear. "You could join us if you'd like. As a thank you for watching Miffy for me."
I can hardly contain my excitement at her offer, but I play it cool. "I wouldn't want to intrude."
"Nonsense. We would love to have you," Kym insists.
"OK then. I'd love to join you," I say with a grin spreading across my face.
We walk together toward the farmhouse, Miffy bouncing happily between us. I try to focus on the conversation, but my mind keeps drifting to thoughts of Kym. Her soft blonde hair blowing in the wind, her sparkling blue eyes, her curves...I shake my head to clear the thoughts and remind myself that I barely know her. But there's something about her that intrigues me, something I can't quite put my finger on.
As we approach the farmhouse, the mouth-watering aroma of cooking wafts out and my stomach grumbles in response. Kym leads me inside where her brother and his wife are already at the table.
"Hey guys, I brought a friend," Kym says brightly. "I hope that's OK?"
"Of course, the more the merrier!" Kym's brother, Josh, replies, quickly getting up and grabbing an extra plate for me.
"You're one of the shearers, right?" Regina asks as she gestures for me to take a seat. Kym sets some cutlery and a water glass on the table for me, then takes the seat to my right.
"Yes, ma'am. The name's Hayes."
"Hayes." Regina's eyes light up. "That's such an interesting name. Is that your christian name or surname?"
"Christian. My full name is Hayes Alexander Evans," I reply, glad to deflect the attention away from myself.
"Well, Hayes Alexander Evans, it's nice to have you here," Josh says as he takes his seat again. "Kym tells us you've been looking after Miffy for her."
"Yes, sir. She's a sweet dog," I say with a smile, noticing Kym's eyes lingering on mine for a moment longer than necessary.
“Sweet is one way to put it,” Josh laughs.
The conversation flows easily as we tuck into the delicious meal of roasted lamb, vegetables and gravy. I find myself enjoying the company of the group, feeling strangely at home in their presence—like I've sat at this table with them a hundred times before. That's helped along by the fact Kym and I keep locking eyes every so often in a way that sends shivers down my spine.
"What attracted you to shearing as a profession, Hayes?" Regina asks as she places a homemade apple pie on the table for dessert.
"I kind of just feel into it," I say as Josh places a bowl of fresh whipped cream next to the pie and starts to serve everyone.
"How do you fall into shearing?" he asks, handing bowls to his wife, his sister and then me before finally serving himself.
