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“Dad doesn’t know. Yet. I’m putting it in the plan. Amanda is helping with the financials.” Tom handed me the drawing and I swept up the folder, documents and the concept drawing and placed them to the side. “He has to stay in for another couple of days for monitoring. He’s driving everyone mad at the hospital.”
Tom huffed a laugh. “If it’s too much to go on this muster, you don’t have—”
“Overnight is fine. If I wait until after the opera, I’ve missed weeks of data. I want to show the national park team I can do this work.”
“I’ve promised to deliver a plan for the future of Turner’s Creek after the wool clip.” He scratched the back of his head, his eyes stark. “Struggling a bit with it to be honest.”
“I’m sure you’re distracted with Ainslee.”
Tom glanced up sharply.
“I didn’t mean to hear her news. And … I didn’t mean to even say anything. I mean, congratulations. Oh god, I—”
“It’s okay.” Tom’s face softened, but his sadness was clear. “Still in shock, to be honest. Going to the doctor after this.” Tom reeled, looking pained he’d said that. “If you don’t mind, please don’t tell anyone else. It’s not official, and Ainslee and I have a lot to talk about before we announce anything.”
“Of course. You have my word.”
“Thank you.”
We both fell silent and found ourselves staring at another image on my desk. This was a stylised wedding couple entering the modern building with rows of vines behind it.
Was he thinking about marrying Ainslee? Good lord, would they get married at Turner’s Creek station, like Amanda, and then come here for the reception? Have their photos in the vines?
I couldn’t imagine how I’d get through helping them plan their reception, see them exchange vows and then welcome their first child into the world. I gripped the edge of my desk.
Tom shook himself out of his thoughts. “Cameras. Um, Ryan said you have trail cameras for wombat burrows and you had funding to place them as part of the muster while helping us out.”
“Oh, yeah.” I straightened, looking everywhere but Tom, and covered the wedding couple image with a pile of invoices. “It’s all stored in my bedroom. I’ll show you. It’s not as bulky as you think.”
Inviting Tom into my bedroom left me feeling like an idiot, considering the last time I was here. “Did I mention I’m so sorry I kissed you and then nearly puked on you?”
“You did. Did I mention your mother told me in no uncertain terms I wasn’t allowed to be in your room alone with you?”
“What?”
“Night of the fire. After we … you know. She was looking out for you.” He pointed to two boxes against my wardrobe. “Are they the cameras?”
“Yes.”Get your head in the game.“Yes, these units cost a mint. The national park installed a mobile network booster antenna three months ago. The units use the 4G network to periodically upload images to our server. I can log into the server at the winery to view footage, or worst case, go up and check the units and swap out the memory cards.”
Tom inspected the camouflage-coloured camera. “This triggered with movement?”
“Yes. When a wombat or any other animal passes the burrow entrance, it will detect motion and take two photos in quick succession and then a five-second video. Been getting great images from a couple of trial cameras installed twelve months ago.”
“My parents are furious think my research is a waste of time.”
Tom and I stood in silence yet again after another awkward confession.
“It’s not a waste.”
“But you hate wombats.”
“I have opinions about a specific wombat who headbutts me in the nads. The others are fine.” Tom placed the camera back in the box. “How many do you need to take on the muster?”
“Twelve if possible, and no solar panels or anything else. I’ll be walking up to the burrows each month to change batteries and memory cards as well as noting any scat or activity at the burrow entrances. I’ll be fit at least during this project.”
“Rosie, where are you?”
“That’s Maria looking for me. I’ll be right back to sort out packing and arrangements.”
