Bella's Run (37 page)

Between the pair of them they got the cow up and moving down the track to Maggie’s old tumbledown stockyards. They ran her into the simple, old-style crush and Bella heaved on the rusty bar to snap the headlock in place. While she waited for Will she’d filled a bucket with hot water and grabbed soap, lubricant and some calving chains she found on a nail in the shed, and had them waiting down by the crush.

Will stripped off to his singlet in the pouring rain, and pulled a long clear plastic glove from his pocket and drew it over his hand and arm.

‘Didn’t think Maggie would have any of these,’ he said, nodding towards the glove. ‘Right, we’re all set. You hold her tail and I’m just going to see what the problem is. The little bloke’s obviously stuck, so I’ll try and push him back in and get him presented correctly. Then we can help her ease him back out again.’

Bella nodded, the movement causing a flood of water to gush off her hat. Will’s hat lay squashed flat in the mud where he’d tossed it with his shirt.

Will squeezed some clear lubricant from the bottle at his feet and smeared it over his glove-covered arm. He gently inserted his fingers in around the little hooves and manoeuvred them back inside the birth canal. The cow let out a bellow as her body convulsed with a contraction on Will’s arm.

‘Christ!’ he muttered, the upper part of his arm turning bright red as the contraction squeezed the shit out of his limb. Bella stood to one side, holding the tail out of the way, feeling useless.

The contraction eased, as did the agony on Will’s face.

‘Can I do anything?’ asked Bella gently.

‘Yeah, grab those chains and hook on the grips. You remember how?’

‘Of course I remember, it hasn’t been
that
long,’ she said as she let go of the tail.

‘Ouch! Shit!’ gasped Will, as the cow whacked her poo-covered tail across his face.

‘Sorry!’ cried Bella as she quickly grabbed the tail again, trying to drag the bucket towards her with her spare hand and one foot.

‘Just goes with the territory, I guess.’ Will swiped at his face. Bella could see a dimple flit across a shit-daubed cheek, and felt her belly lurch.

You’ve really got it bad if you think he looks hot covered in cow shit and mud, girlfriend.

After a few minutes of pushing and poking around, Will drew the little feet out again. He grabbed the chains from the bucket one at a time with his spare hand, and looped them around the hooves, which were trying to make it out into the rain. He then hooked the handles to the chains.

‘Now, you take one handle and I’ll take the other, and when I say go, pull like hell, okay?’

Bella took the handle Will offered. As he eased his hand from the birth canal and stripped off his muck-covered glove, she finally let go of the tail again.

They both hunkered down low near the cow’s arse, with Will standing behind Bella with the longer chain. He watched the cow closely until a contraction rippled her sides and then yelled, ‘Now!’

Bella reefed downwards and back with all her might.

The little hooves started to move towards them.

‘Again!’ yelled Will, and they both pulled hard.

A muzzle appeared, followed by a pair of shoulders. Then the whole mucus and blood-covered bundle slid out frontwards, sending both Bella and Will onto their bums.

Bella fell into Will, landing in his crotch. The calf fell on the top of Bella’s legs, two milk teeth protruding from the thick lips and a rubbery pink tongue flapping from the side of its mouth. The calf gave a high-pitched cry as Bella used her legs to push it off herself. The cow turned as best she could from the head-lock to look at the mess and lowed softly.

Bella lay there a moment, rain falling softly on her face, relishing the warmth of Will’s lap, thinking how good it was to be touching him again.

Will was in trouble as he looked down on the ringlets of white-gold, all turned dark brown in the wet. She was lying on his knackers and his thoughts weren’t living up to altar-boy standards. Laughter rumbled up from deep within his belly.

Bella flipped over onto her stomach and saw his face come into focus through her wet, tangled hair. His brown eyes oozed molasses, and the dimples danced on his mud- covered cheeks.

God, he was gorgeous. She convulsed into laughter too. Here they were, lying in a cattle race, with mud, blood, mucus and shit covering most of their bodies, and it felt so right to be here; in the stockyards, laughing with this man, in this place.

As the rain teemed around them, and Maggie’s farm turned to mud and slush, they lay sodden and laughed.

The sudden, restless movements of the cow in the crush sobered them up. They untangled themselves and gently pulled the calf into a small side yard. Releasing the cow from the head-bale, they let her find and nuzzle her calf. And then in long, slow movements she started to lick the calf clean.

Will was washing his arms in the bucket with soap.

‘You want a warm shower?’ she asked, watching the soft back of his neck as he scrubbed.

‘You going to be in it?’

She paused for a moment, then forced herself to stop considering it.

‘No.’ She wasn’t a complete hussy, regardless of what he thought. And as far as he knew she was still engaged to Warren.

‘Mmm, didn’t think so.’ Will fruitlessly tried to dry his arms on his wet flannie. An awkward silence fell as they both looked at anything but each other. Will was the first to break. ‘I’ll help you clean up here and then be on my way.’

‘No, I’m right. I can do it,’ said Bella as she leaned down to start piling all the things into the bucket at his feet.

‘Okay.’ He now seemed in a hurry to move on. ‘I’ll check back with you tonight, if you like. Just leave her in the yards with the little bloke for a while.’

Bella looked at him and the words came out of her mouth before she could stop them. ‘Would you like to come for tea? Just tea, mind you,’ she added quickly, lest he get the wrong idea. ‘To say thanks . . . for helping me out.’

‘What are you cooking, Hells Bells?’ Will paused from gathering up his clothes; his grin was nice and slow.

Her tummy lurched again as she mentally chastised herself for being so flaming impetuous. ‘Roast lamb,’ she said with a tilt to her nose.

‘You remember how to cook it, cowgirl?’

‘Of course I can bloody cook it. Come tonight and I’ll prove it!’

Chapter 35

Will arrived around five-thirty, just as it was getting dark. A soft blue-and-maroon Wrangler shirt wrapped around his broad, solid shoulders, fitting him snugly, and long muscled legs were encased in dark denim jeans.

‘Bloody wet out there!’ he exclaimed as he kicked off his gumboots and moved into Maggie’s cosy little lounge with a brown paper bag in his hand. He offered it to Bella.

‘They tell me red wine goes with lamb. I don’t drink it myself, so I’ve also put in a rum.’

‘Who told you about the red?’ she asked politely as she took the bag and placed the contents on the table.

‘Trin did actually.’ His voice was bashful but proud all the same. ‘I gave him a ring, because I wasn’t sure.’

Bella looked at the label and smiled. ‘How did you know this was my favourite?’

‘Trin asked Caro. So I went into Burrindal, and the pub had it.’ His tone was surprised but satisfied.

Bella was impressed. He’d driven all the way into town just to get her favourite wine? She was glad she’d gone to some trouble with dinner.

The table was set plainly, because she didn’t want him to get any crazy ideas. She hadn’t put candles out, but the lights from the generator were already dim, adding a soft-lit ambience to the room, accentuated by the country music crooning from the stereo. It was all too intimate as it was, so the candles stayed in their box.

She moved into the kitchen, busying herself with dishing up.

‘I took a look down at the yards and they’re empty. You put the cow and calf back in the paddock?’ Will asked as he propped himself on a stool and leaned forward with a hand under his chin.

‘Yep. She’s taken to the calf all right. It looks like she’s a good mum.’ Bella smiled, remembering the thrill of watching the cow and her new baby wander out into the small house paddock. She’d helped a calf into the world. It made her feel good, like she had done something really worthwhile.

‘No trouble?’

‘Huh?’ Bella brought herself back to Maggie’s kitchen. ‘Oh . . . no, they were fine. It’s all good, I think.’ She breezed past with two plates and motioned for Will to join her at the table.

Will moved from his stool to sit down for dinner. He poured her a glass of wine and passed it to her, then reached across the table towards her, raising his rum can. ‘To the new mum and bub.’ There was a pause and then he added with a grin, ‘And a good morning’s work.’

Bella smiled proudly as she leaned forward to chink her glass.

They had a lovely night. Steering clear of anything too personal, they reminisced and laughed over their childhoods, caught up on mutual acquaintances and friends.

‘That was delicious, Bella,’ Will said, as he finally pushed back his plate. ‘You sure are Maggie’s niece in more ways than one. She cooks a mean lamb roast too.’

He looked across at the dresser, where a picture of Hugh and Maggie sat in the centre. ‘I did a bit of research. Did you know Hugh’s Plain is named after Uncle Hugh? He got stuck up there one day and had to be rescued.’

Bella’s face flushed with embarrassment. Just saying the name of that plain brought back memories she’d rather forget. Or would she?

‘Really? How interesting.’ Bella grasped for a way to change the subject. ‘I love that photo of my mum and dad.’

Will walked over and picked it up. Her parents were beaming into the camera. Francine was in her wheelchair, Frank kneeling down beside her. Justin’s kids, Bec, Joel and Ryder, had decorated the chair with streamers and balloons for a birthday party last year. Bella hadn’t made it – Warren had a corporate function that she just
had
to attend.

‘Your mother is amazing, so resilient and strong. I don’t know if I could have coped and been so gracious about it, if that had happened to me.’

‘I think she’s just grateful she didn’t die,’ said Bella. ‘She was expected to, you know, which is what keeps her going. She’s still here for a reason. She says it’s to drive Dad mad.’

Will laughed quietly. ‘They’re wonderful people, Bella. You should be very proud.’

Bella couldn’t answer. He was right.

Will moved slowly to his left and picked up another frame. It was the tumbleweed photo: Bella and Patty dancing crazily in the afternoon sun somewhere outside Tamworth before the world had gone so very wrong.

‘I love that one. We were so happy that day, just ecstatic to be coming home.’

‘I love it too,’ agreed Will, looking intently at the picture, his voice wistful. ‘I have a copy on my bedside table.’ When he glanced up at Bella, she could see tears swimming in his dark eyes, and she knew from his expression that the tears weren’t for Patty alone.

Bella smiled sadly, thinking of how their lives were so intertwined. ‘I usually have one by my bed as well.’

‘Dad and Mum have photos of Patty everywhere. And I mean
everywhere
.’ Will pulled a frustrated face. ‘They really lost the plot after she died. Just couldn’t get their heads around the fact she was gone. Dad, in particular. Patty was his mate and he’d taught her everything she knew. He couldn’t stand to be out here at the farm anymore, staring at reminders of the things they used to do together.’

Bella stayed silent, willing him to go on.

Will sighed and ran his hand through his hair. ‘So, they left the place. Just got up one day and walked out. Bought a house in town. Dad’s a broken old man. Mum’s not much better.’ He sounded dejected.

‘They lost their only daughter, Will.’

‘Yes, but they still have a son.’ He shrugged, then walked back to the table and sat down. ‘I’m okay about it now. But I couldn’t ever be a father, seeing the pain and grief the death of a child can bring on its parents.’ He frowned. ‘And then there’s the other siblings too. The death of a brother or sister is hard on them as well.’

Bella sat stunned as his voice dissolved into the silence of the room. Outside, down at the river, a chorus of frogs thrummed constantly, relentlessly, like the thoughts flowing through her mind. She had been so caught up in her own grief and her own life that she had no idea Patty’s death had caused such ongoing devastation to the O’Hara family. The pain was clearly still raw for them all, eight years after Patty’s death. She looked at Will and felt a pain in her chest. He would have made a wonderful father.

‘Anyway,’ said Will, ‘I think Mum’s starting to get out a bit now. She’s joined the cemetery trust and is helping to plan some new rose garden for people who have lost children. Dad potters around his yard, and has the odd bet on a horse. They’ve leased the station to me and I run my place and theirs as one on my own. It’s probably better without Dad there anyway. He’d be trying to tell me what to do. Just like my sister used to.’