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Within minutes, she’d thrown another log on the fire and stoked the flames; then, she shook out the doona and threw it up, letting it settle over me.
She wasn’t meant to be nice or look after me. The situation completely rattled me, leaving me feeling grateful and confused.
“You throw the doona on the bed like you’re throwing a fleece in the shearing shed.”
Rosie smiled softly as she picked up her tea. “Been a while since I’ve done that. But old habits die hard.”
“I’m back on the shears this year. Hard to find enough contract shearers for the clip.” I waved to my crotch with a sigh. “This pauses my weights training to build up my strength.”
Rosie’s gaze lingered on my bare arms. I’d only managed to find a sleep shirt—an old footy tee shirt to wear.
“You’re looking strong enough to get back into the shed.” Her eyes briefly widened and she looked away, focusing on my textbooks. “How’s third year agronomy going?”
“Hard.” I groaned and then winced.No hard or soft jokes right now.“Agronomy is Pete’s thing.”
“What’s this about?” She held up course notes for two final year viticulture subjects.
“I took a minor course in wine studies.”
Rosie’s mouth parted just as there was a knock at the door. She put the course notes down and answered the door. “Hi, oh. Hello again.”
“I remember you. I’m Ainslee.”
Ainslee? What the?
Rosie stood back for Ainslee to enter.
“Rose, right?” There was a slight edge to Ainslee’s voice.
Rosie smiled without warmth. “Rosie.”
I shuffled off the bed, wincing. “Ainslee? Why are—? Hi, hey. Come in.” We stood in a small circle, awkwardly glancing at each other, with me holding a bag of peas in my sweatpants.
Ainslee looked me up and down. “What are you doing?”
“Had … a-an accident,” I stuttered. “Run in with a wombat.”
Rosie sniffed. “I should go.”
She immediately picked up her tea cup and headed for the door. Why did I feel guilty when nothing had happened? Somehow I felt sprung. But we’d barely spoken.
In fact, now that I thought about it, before the wombat attack, Rosie had been heading towards the shearers’ quarters with two cups of tea. She’d been there to see me. What about, I had no idea.
Was Angelo okay? Did she need my help?
“Rosie, wait—”
“It’s fine, Tom. You should be with your girlfriend.”
“Ainslee’s not—” I paused. “We’re just friends.”
The look Ainslee gave me could have melted steel.
“I really should get going to see Dad.”
Rosie bolted, closing the door behind her.
I felt like I’d done something wrong but couldn’t figure it out. But right now, I needed to get my head around why Ainslee was back.
