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“I can help,” Rosie added. “Or, if I’m in the way, I can inspect the hole in the fence. Check for wombat burrows nearby.”
Everyone glanced my way. “Your help would be great, thanks.”
“Got shovels on the park utes,” the park ranger offered. “Let’s get started.”
“Thanks. Appreciate it.”
Finding a spot to dig a deep enough hole is a challenge in granite country. But we managed and within an hour with many hands, the three ewes were buried on our property.
The smoke was still hazy, and I forced myself to do something to get my mind off the lost sheep. I retrieved the drone and filmed the area while Rosie inspected the hole in the fence with Ryan.
I had seven minutes of battery power for filming, but it was enough to get a good sweep of where the smoke was in the national park and our property and several low fly-overs in tree breaks.
With a promise to send on the drone movie file to the national park team, I joined Ryan and Rosie at the fence. Animals had pushed and twisted the mesh leaving a gaping cavity on our boundary.
“Rosie’s got enough fencing wire in the ute to thread through the mesh and patch the hole,” Ryan said, dusting his hands. “Probably can do it now without tools and some more muscle.”
“I’ve got some experimental ‘gates’ for property fences that allow native animals to pass through without damaging the fence,” Rosie offered. “You could use one here. This is a major animal trail between you and the national park that the animals favour.”
“Gates?” I murmured, numb.
“They keep sheep on one side and allow animals to pass through. Kind of like a flap in a door for pets to come and go. I have them at the winery as part of my research.”
I nodded. “Sounds good.”
“Sorry about the sheep.”
“Yeah.”
“I was going to ask you guys if you’d like to be a part of the research for animal gates … felt like now was as good a time as any to ask.”
We farewelled the national park crew and worked in silence, treading the wire through the mesh to reduce the size of the hole. Hours later, Rosie pulled her ute into a spare spot in the farm shed. Uncle Bruce had brought back the dogs and our ute while we’d been burying the sheep. Once the fire truck was back at base, the usual paperwork and logbooks completed, and the place locked up for the night, Rosie drove us home.
Ryan sat in the middle, his hulking frame and long legs straddling the gearbox to fit, while I nursed the drone on my lap. During the short drive back to the homestead, I watched Rosie reach between Ryan’s legs to change gears, both of them laughing at how ridiculous it was.
The second Rosie had turned off the engine, I leapt from the ute with the drone. Why did I even care about them laughing and the gear box? It was stupid. I had no right to be irritated or … or …
God, was I jealous?
I stopped in my tracks, looking at the shearers’ quarters. Ainslee had slept in my room last night alone. I’d camped with Pete in his double-bed swag by the bonfire, not wanting to face her after the alcohol I’d consumed.
The dull headache that had been my constant companion today ramped up. Facing Ainslee was the last thing I wanted to do, but I knew I had to.
“It’s the smell that gets me every time.” Ryan appeared at my side, shrugging off his jacket in the cool night air. “No matter how long you shower for or scrub, I can still smell the decay clinging to me.”
“Tea helps me,” Rosie suggested. “Peppermint clears the smell from my sinuses. I don’t drink it, just smell it.”
“Sniffing tea.” I laughed at a memory of Rosie and her selection of teas on hand in the kitchen purely for their smell. “You used to have sniffing tea after you found a dead roo or wombat on the roadside and checking for joeys.”
“Yep, still do—both the tea and the checking.”
“Well, I’m having a quick shower, and then it’s dinnertime.” Ryan nodded at the drone in my hands. “Be good to see the footage off this. Might spot something about what started this fire.”
We exchanged a look. What Ryan really meant was if we spottedsomeone.
“I’ll show you the file tomorrow.”
He nodded, and then stalked off, leaving me alone with Rosie. At least holding the drone gave me something to do with my hands.
