Page 107 of Where the Wattles Bloom

She climbed in behind him, Red claiming the spot behind her, standing to attention. ‘Hold on tight, baby,’ Lachlan said as he started the engine, and damn if she didn’t like the way he said baby.

Her heart was beating like the clappers as the quad kicked into motion and she slid her arms around his waist, pressing her cheek to his back as it accelerated. He was obviously taking it easy as they cut across country, the horses, the bikes and the ute all well ahead of them.

‘You can go faster,’ she yelled into his ear once her pulse had settled and she got used to the vibration of the engine through her thighs and the rock of the bumpy, uneven ground under the wheels.

‘Speed demon, huh?’

Rowena smiled. She was the sideshow alley queen, right? ‘Show me what you’re made of, baby.’

She heard his laugh before the wind snatched it away and felt the moment he pushed the bike a little faster. Her arms tightened around his waist as her hair whipped behind her.

Rowena was hyper-aware of him, his arse firmly cradled between her legs, the beat of his heart thumping against her chest. It felt … elemental being out here with him like this, smooshed close, flying along with nothing but endless scrub in front of them and an infinite outback sky above.

She’d lain awake last night long after Lachlan had fallen asleep, thinking about their bathtub discussion. About how he wanted their daughter to be brought up out here. It hadn’t surprised her when he’d finally said it out loud—she’d have been more surprised had he not.

But today, out here, like this, watching this landscape he was so much a part of whiz by, she understood why. He wasn’t at Blairgowrie because he didn’t know any different. Because he’d been born with dirt in his veins and no other way would do.

This place hadn’t been his only life experience. He’d lived other places and done other things.

Blairgowrie was his choice.

And, with the sun warming her arms, a mob of emus kicking up dust as they ran in the distance and a dog panting in her ear, she could see why he wanted this wide-brown-land life for their daughter.

Right at this moment, she kinda wanted it, too …

*

At eleven they decided to take a break. Lachlan had told her it would be slow, dusty work and he’d been right. It was shaping up into a hot day and the drone had been working overtime helping them to locate the sheep that could be anywhere on the property.

They’d already found a few hundred and, between the quad and Red, who kept stragglers and breakaways in check, they were slowly walking them back—no need to stress them out, according to Lachlan—in the direction of the yards.

But there were many more sheep to find.

As they’d slowed to what felt like a crawl, Lachlan had given her the job of driving the quad behind the growing flock while he manned the drone and kept an eye on Red and the sheep, whistling commands if needed. He also communicated via handheld radio with Albert, Reggie and the dirt bikes, directing them to sheep in the surrounding areas, which they rounded up and brought into the main flock.

Shaun, who had taken the ute to scout out the closest dams for livestock, joined them as they all converged on an area where a stand of gums made for a shady spot. It was obviously a popular place to stop, with two wooden picnic tables situated beneath the trees.

A large poly tank nearby stood in full sun. It fed several cement troughs scattered around, including one in the shade where the horses were currently slaking their thirst.

‘Reggie,’ Shaun announced as he removed one of the eskies of food from the back of the ute, ‘I’ve been fanging for one of your scones all morning. I swear I could smell them all the way into the cab.’

Reggie, preparing to dismount from Ace, let loose one of her crackly belly laughs. ‘Made ’em specially for you, darl.’

What happened next was over in a flash, and yet Rowena felt as if she was seeing it in slow motion. Suddenly Ace snorted, shook his head wildly and stomped his feet. Then he reared back with a chilling, petrified whinny. Reggie lost her grip and fell, her back striking the hard, unforgiving concrete corner of the trough on her way down.

Somewhere someone said, ‘Snake,’ but it was mostly drowned out by Reggie’s cry of pain as she landed on her back a few feet from the trough.

‘Reggie!’ Albert cried, dismounting quickly, covering the distance in several strides and throwing himself down beside her. ‘Reggie,’ he said again, peering into her shuttered face as he removed his hat and picked up her hand.

Lachlan, who’d been behind the tank checking out the pump, bolted over. He reached his grandmother just before Rowena.

‘Reggie. Reggie!’

‘I’m awake,’ she whispered, coughing weakly as her eyes fluttered open, her gaze finding Albert.

‘Where does it hurt? Can you move? Are you having trouble breathing? What day is today?’

As Lachlan did a frantic head to toe, cold fingers clutched around Rowena’s heart and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. Reggie’s skin, always a weathered brown, was now an awful shade of pale. Her lips were pale too, her breathing slow and shallow.