W
ard woke amongst a sea of cushions, snuggled deep under a warm thick doona. Ever since the stupid fall he’d slept in different places: stadium corridors, the hospital, his lounge room floor, his reclining chair, his bed—once. Then in the bunkhouse at Zara and Joe’s farm, and now in Zara’s living room. But two days in a row he woke up to Max’s snoring, and no Zara.
Damn. He’d fallen asleep on Zara again, after confessing in ways he’d never done to a living soul in his life.
What the hell had he become to admit he was scared?
He didn’t even recognise himself.
Ward got up and stretched, facing the bright daylight through the wide bay windows. In the glossy emerald paddocks, horses grazed in the distance, it was so serene. He understood what Zara meant; it seemed to take all his troubles away—if he didn’t think too hard.
Ward rubbed his jaw’s coarse bristles, feeling just as rough on the inside. He hadn’t shaved in days and wasn’t even wearing his own clothes.
But it was warm inside by the fire, and the aroma of rich coffee was inviting.
‘Morning, lad,’ called out Joe from Zara’s kitchen.
‘Um, morning.’ Unsure if to call it a good morning, when he was tempted to burrow back under the blankets. But he was stuck here until tomorrow morning, and right now he missed his chair and widescreen to zone out on and not think.
Ward cleared his throat and winced at Zara and her father, both seated at her kitchen table. How was Joe going to react at finding some guy asleep on his daughter’s floor?
But nothing had happened between him and Zara.
Pity.
Ward slothed around in his borrowed tracksuit pants and socks into the kitchen. At least his socks matched, unlike Zara’s where one was the colour of marmalade, the other had iris blue checks. It almost cheered him up.
‘Coffee?’ Zara asked, fetching him a cup.
Ward nodded, dumbfounded. Her ice-blue eyes warmed him. Her hair, loose around her shoulders, shone like a halo in the kitchen’s sunlight.
He dropped into a seat and blinked at the table’s decorative bowl of glossy strawberries. It took a moment to realise it was filled with painted pebbles to look like strawberries.
Soon he sipped his coffee, and over the cup’s rim he saw fine needles in Joe’s right hand, resting on the table. ‘Sore hand?’ He’d seen Zara rub Joe’s hands at night, seated around the fire pit, to then strap them into braces. But what was the deal with turning Joe’s large hand into a pin cushion?
‘RA’s givin’ me a bit of grief this time of the year, mind you only the one today. And I come here for the coffee.’ Joe picked up his mug, as his eyebrow arched at Ward. ‘So, you did the hot chocolate last night, huh?’
Ward nodded. Was he going to cop a lecture? He doubted his brain could cope and searched for strength in the coffee. ‘Coffee’s good.’ Receiving a shy smile from Zara that defrosted him some more.
‘I agree, mate. I’ve gotta stick to the decaf muck on this dumb diet.’
‘Dad?’ Zara frowned at her father.
Joe rolled his eyes, the same colour as Zara’s. His weather-worn face crinkled with his lopsided grin. ‘Yeah, yeah. She’s torturing me coz she cares. The bonus is I get a coffee while I get this done.’
‘What is that?’ Ward asked, nodding at Joe’s hand.
‘Acupuncture,’ replied Zara, sipping her coffee.
‘You’re an acupuncturist too?’
‘I do it for Dad.’
‘Zara’s been doin’ this since she was seven, helping her old man. Good thing that Chinese doctor I called a commie bastard gave her a job.’
‘Dad, I only started doing acupuncture when I was eighteen.’ A small alarm rang on the mobile on the table. She turned it off, washed her hands at the sink, removed the pins from Joe’s hand, dropped them into a dish and carried it down the small corridor. ‘Flex it, Dad.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ Joe shook his hand, held it by the wrist, and opened and closed his fist. ‘Are you carrying the country on your shoulders there, mate?’
Ward now understood the term emotionally drained, feeling confused and numb, but he wasn’t into oversharing his story either. Instead, he sipped more coffee.
‘You should go for a run. It’s a beautiful morning after last night’s rain. Get that fresh air into your lungs and that sun on your face.’ Joe stood and patted Ward’s shoulder and said, ‘Take a tip from an old bloke who’s bin ‘round the block a few times. One step at a time, mate, that’s all you can do.’ Joe slid on his Akubra, drained his cup, put it on the sink, and headed for the front door. ‘Oi luv, we doin’ this bull-dance?’
‘Yes, Dad.’ Zara returned to the kitchen and finished her coffee. ‘Are you going for a run?’
Ward wanted to lie down before the fireplace and hide his head under the cushions. ‘Do you need me to run the greyhounds?’
‘Billy’s got ‘em with Toby this morning on the quad,’ said Joe, opening the front door. ‘We let Stacey catch up on her study. It’ll be good to see that girl graduate.’
‘Yeah, I’ll go for a run,’ Ward said with as much enthusiasm as a kid lining up for his vaccination jabs at the doctor. He stepped into the sunshine, trying to remember where his sunglasses were.
Zara closed the front door behind them and slid her mismatched socks into her long boots. ‘Don’t push yourself, Brendan.’
‘I won’t, Z.’ At least he got a single dimpled smile from the woman who’d put him to sleep last night, again.
‘I’m sure the man’s old enough to know what his body can and can’t do. Not like I do, at my age, when you’re restricted like a newborn,’ complained Joe as he walked down the front steps.
‘You whine like a big baby, Dad.’
‘Ward’s fine, let him be. Run as long as you need, lad.’
Ward sat on the veranda’s wicker chair with coffee in hand. He didn’t want to run at all. He didn’t know what he wanted. His brain was foggy like the mist entwined within the thicket that led to the small gully.
‘For you.’ Zara put a water bottle on the table beside him. ‘We’ll be on the other side of the stables in the orchard by the plum trees, if you need us.’
Ward didn’t know the difference between an apricot or apple tree. How was he expected to find a plum tree?
‘Come on, luv, I’ll be late for church.’
‘Yeah, yeah.’ Zara skipped down the steps in her long boots and hooked her arm through her father’s.
Ward sipped his coffee, with Max sitting in front of him. ‘You ready to do this, Max?’
The dog’s entire lower body wagged as his stumpy tail thumped on the floor.
Did Ward have the energy?
Shoes laced, he stood and faced the scenery where sunrays filtered through the canopy of trees that dotted the open paddocks. The clear air was fresh and alive from last night’s storm. ‘One step at a time.’ And began his run with his canine companion beside him.
***
He ran until his muscles burned, his lungs pumped fire through his system, and when he thought he couldn’t run anymore, he pushed on. Into the main yard, through the shed’s open doors and up to the industrial-sized sinks. There, Ward caught his breath as he stretched out his legs.
Max, with black tongue lolling limp from his panting mouth, staggered in behind Ward.
Joe was right, the run helped Ward clear his head. He grinned at the puffed-out pit bull that collapsed into a heap in front of the water bowl.
At the large sink, Ward put his head under the tap and gulped mouthfuls of the sweet rainwater. The ice cool water trickled down his back, contrasting against the hot sweat of his skin. He felt great. Pleased with his normal recovery time.
But the dog wasn’t doing too good, puffing dust clear from his spot on the concrete. ‘You’re out of condition, you could’ve stayed, Max.’
Max’s black tongue lapped up the water from his sprawled position, its chewed ears and scars caught the sunlight.
‘No, you’re still not coming home with me.’
The dog’s brow creased as if it understood.
‘You’ve got all this space, why go to the city?’ Why was he talking to a dog? Ward chuckled, refilled his water bottle at the tap and drank more. He liked the water here, even his sister would approve.
Adam looked up from his work at the bench by the bunkhouse doors and said, ‘Did you know Max lived in a cage before he came here?’
Ward gave Adam a morning nod. ‘How big a cage are we talking about?’ Considering Max’s massive bulk.
‘Small. About the size of a coffee table. Max couldn’t stand in it but he thought it was his home.’ Adam bent down and patted the dog who raised his head between panting snorted slurps of water. ‘When Zara brought Max here and opened that cage, he wouldn’t get out.’
‘Wouldn’t the dog want his freedom?’
‘Nope. This was all new to him.’
Ward looked around the large farm shed. ‘It’s all new to me too.’
‘I’m hearin’ ya, mate,’ Adam said with a nod. ‘But you see, Max was snatched from his mum and thrown into a cage, stuck in a shed in the middle of this noisy industrial block. He never saw the sun inside that hot tin-shed, where he got poked and beaten as part of his training. Then he’d get let out of that cage to fight for his life in front of all these screaming men.’
‘No way.’ Ward’s heart dropped, staring at Max sprawled across the concrete.
‘It took ages for Max to walk ten paces away from that cage, he never let it out of his sight. Now, it’s over there in the shadows.’ Adam pointed to the far corner near the tack room entrance. ‘He doesn’t go near it anymore, but for about six months he’d stick close to it. We tried to get him up to the house and stuff, but he does his own thing, always inside the shed in the shadows like he grew up.’
‘How could anyone do that to a dog and keep them in an undersized cage to fight?’ Ward craned his neck at the shed’s height. Hay was stacked in the far-left corner, wooden horse stalls ran along the entire right side. Zara’s ute and horse-float were parked in the centre facing the rear doors. The tack room, with the bunkhouse was on the left within this shed with plenty of shadows for a dog to hide.
‘People think big dogs need big yards, Max doesn’t. He only needs food, water, and somewhere to lie down, even if it’s the corner of a shed. But he likes you,’ Adam said, sharing a lopsided grin.
‘I’m too busy to look after a dog.’
‘What’s to look after? You eat, he eats. You can tip some food out of a can, can’t you? You run, he’ll run, and then sleep all day. Max doesn’t want much.’
Why were they putting the hard-sell on him to adopt Max? ‘Why does Zara bring animals and people out here to help them?’
‘Zara only does it for the few, so consider yourself privileged there, mate, coz she’ll bring home more animals than humans.’
‘Why?’
‘Animals don’t hurt her.’ Adam sighed, facing Zara’s small house. ‘Zara can relate to those hurt, the abused, and the defenceless. She can relate to all of us kids’ coz she’s been there, mate.’
‘No way. Joe’s a top bloke.’
Adam scowled. ‘Not Joe. He’d kill anyone who’d hurt Zara. We all would.’
‘But you just claimed Zara was abused?’ A fire churned in his guts stirring towards a white rage. ‘Who? Why?’ He felt sick, and pissed, towering over Adam for answers.
‘I… ah.’ Shirking back, Adam raised his palms in surrender.
‘Don’t start and not finish. Who?’
‘Zara had this bloke, who was one of her patients.’
‘Zara doesn’t do human patients.’ Was this kid lying to get Ward to bite?
‘She used to work in this practice in the city, that’s where she met this idiot.’
‘Zara works at a racetrack.’
‘She does now.’
‘Go on.’ Ward stepped back to give the kid space, and to control his fiery temper.
‘Zara used to work in a city practice. She only worked on people back then, and was the best too, booked out months in advance. That’s where she met and fell in love with this dickhead who they all thought was Mr. Nice-guy. It turned out he was abusing Zara behind closed doors.’
‘Why didn’t someone notice?’
Adam shrugged.
Ward remembered Zara flinching like a timid wild bird. The fear in her eyes and that haunted look when she’d said some didn’t have the strength or courage to fight. ‘Zara didn’t have the courage to tell anyone she was being abused, did she?’ He scrubbed palms over his face, as his shoulders stooped, and the rage dimmed.
‘Zara told no one.’
‘How did they find out?’
‘Joe got the call and found her in hospital all banged up, punctured lung, broken collarbone.’
Ward held his stomach, ill to the core. ‘What happened to that bastard?’
‘Got his arse arrested, went to prison for a bit. And oi,’—Adam pointed at Ward— ‘no one knows where he is now because we’ve all gone searching for him ever since we’d found out, because we’d kill him, just like you wanna do now.’
Adam was right, Ward was angry enough to want to hurt that sick bastard. Taking a deep breath, he uncurled his fists and wiped his palms across his chest. ‘I can see now why you’re all so protective over her.’
‘Yeah, we are mate, Zara gave us all a second go.’
‘When did this happen to her?’ Not Zara, it couldn’t be true.
‘Before my time. Joe said Zara took ages to recover because her spirit got broken. She still flinches if you raise your voice.’
Ward had seen her flinch at him, now horrified he’d done that to her.
‘Joe and his wife put Zara on a plane to Hawaii where that Chinese herbalist recommended she continue her training. Howie said Zara’s gifted as a healer, and they’d all hoped she’d heal herself in the process. Then, that mentor in Hawaii sent her onto some fancy smancy place in Japan.’
‘Then back home after her mother died,’ Ward murmured as he stared at the shed’s concrete floor. ‘Is that why Joe calls adults’ bastards?’
Adam nodded. ‘It’s also why Zara will only work on animals. People ring here all the time begging Zara to go back to work on people in the city, but she won’t do it. Until you.’
‘Zara did that as a favour for her father.’
‘We know that. You should’ve heard Zara and Joe arguing over it too.’ Adam chuckled.
‘Over me?’
‘Yeah. Zara didn’t have a clue who you were, mate. She didn’t want to touch you and was going to give your mum someone else’s number until Joe found out.’
‘But Zara came to my house.’ He’d argued with his sister about not wanting to see Zara in the first place.
‘We know,’ said Adam, crossing his arms over his stocky chest. ‘And Joe’s been made to suffer for it ever since.’
‘How?’
‘Zara’s got him on a diet. She took all his rum to her place, and she’s making him do Thai Chi in the mornings when she’s not at the track.’
‘For his health?’
Adam grinned. ‘We know it’s for Joe’s benefit, but you should hear him bitch too. Decaf coffee in the mornings, rabbit food, and white meat fit for toothless newborns. Only allowed his full-strength beer on weekends, and no more cigars on Sunday, except at Church.’
Ward assumed his mother had talked Zara into visiting, and that somehow his charm had convinced Zara into spending time with him too. ‘So, all this time Zara has been helping me, was as a favour for Joe.’
‘Come on, we all know it’s more than that.’ Adam shared a cheeky grin and said, ‘Zara likes you. We can all see that.’
It took everything inside to not smile like the day he’d signed his first player’s contract and happy-danced along the corridors of the clubhouse. ‘Zara’s helping me.’ Hoping that sounded calm.
‘She’s helped us all, mate. No matter what demons you’ve got dancing within your head, body and soul, she’ll help you. Like she’s done for me, for all of us, even Max.’ Adam patted the panting dog on the back.
‘Do you think Zara does it to distract herself from her own troubles?’
‘Yep. She gets us all involved with the animals, because it makes us realise there’s worse out there.’ Adam smiled towards the farm’s long driveway. ‘This place is our refuge, it’s helped us all, and it’ll help you too.’
‘I’m okay.’ A mantra that kept rolling in his head with each step he took this morning along the track. ‘I’m spoiled compared to you lot.’ Zara was right. So why would she bother with someone as selfish as he was?
‘You can afford to be, on your wage.’ Adam then cleared his throat and straightened his stance. ‘Hey mate, I know the others have warned you already, but you play nice with Zara or you’ll have hell to pay.’
His eyes narrowed at the kid and he said in a low voice, ‘I’m not an animal who’d hurt a woman—ever. Especially Zara.’
‘Nah, I reckon you wouldn’t.’ Adam grinned as he walked backwards with palms up and read the watch-face on his wrist. ‘Bugger, I’ve gotta get the car ready for Joe or he’ll be late for Church. Catch ya later, Ward. You know, you should take Max home, then you’ll earn points with everyone, especially Joe and Zara if you did.’ Adam spun on his boots and jogged towards the main farmhouse.
‘I’m not taking the dog.’ Ward glanced at Max still recovering on the floor.
Ward thumbed the scar on his chin, musing over Adam’s conversation. Was it all true?
He headed for the bunkhouse showers when he spotted Joe, Stacey, and Zara amongst the straight corridors of trees that followed the field’s slope. The last of the morning mist tangled above the trunks’ skeletal bare limbs like cotton candy for leaves. It was another side to the property he hadn’t seen that was pretty and peaceful. Was that the plum orchard, where the trio were doing a martial art stretching thing that Joe looked rather awkward at?
‘Okay, that’s it,’ called out Zara. ‘You did well, Dad.’
‘New-fangled bulldust,’ Joe mumbled, snatching up his hat from a nearby tree branch. ‘G’day mate, have a good run?’
‘Ah, yeah, thanks,’ Ward replied with a nod.
‘You look better for it too. Well, I’m off to Church, be back in time to cook the roast.’ He put on his Akubra and headed towards the waiting car where Adam, Tim, Billy, and little Toby waited.
‘Church?’ Ward asked.
‘Nah, it’s the pub,’ replied Stacey, waving at Toby in his baby seat in the back of the passing sedan. ‘It’s the only place Joe can smoke his Sunday cigar now Zara’s banned them from the property.’
‘Because of me?’
‘Zara’s been trying to get Joe to stop smoking for years, we all have, since I’ve been here. You were the bartering tool Zara was looking for.’
Which did wonders for his ego—not. ‘Glad it worked out for everyone then.’
‘Let’s hope it works for you too. I’ve got an assignment to finish. Later.’ Stacey waved and headed to the house.
Ward turned to face Zara approaching him. ‘Don’t you go to church, Zara?’
‘Used to when I was younger. Mum went to church and Dad went to the pub to wait for her. I had a choice, I could try to sit still as the eternal fidgeter, or get a lemonade and an education in the wise ways of men.’ She rolled her eyes, sharing her double-dimple smile. It was beautiful.
‘What were you doing with your dad?’
‘Thai chi. Your mum should try it, she was telling me about her hip and knee problem. It’s a gentle exercise and it helps Dad with his knees, I’ve got him doing it a few times a week, finally.’
‘I heard it was because of me he’s doing these things, for his health?’
She grinned, hiccupping a laugh. ‘That’s true.’
‘I see.’ At least someone was benefitting from his fall.
But did she like him as a man, like Adam said, or was she being professional only seeing him as a patient for Joe’s sake?
‘So, how are you feeling?’
Professional—damn. ‘Good.’
‘No soreness?’
‘Nope. I had a good run, stretched, then I alternated between sprinting and walking and my recovery time’s normal.’ He felt his normal self again. Almost.
‘Good to hear. Although, Max is worn out.’
Ward chuckled at the dog sprawled out on its side next to the water dish.
‘Have you ever ridden a horse?’
‘Me, no.’ He shook his head while screwing up his nose.
‘Come on, then.’ She grabbed his hand and led them to the side door of the shed and into a small fenced yard.
‘What are we doing?’ Not that he was complaining about holding her hand.
‘This is Bob.’ She pointed to the biggest white and grey horse Ward had ever seen.
He’d thought Middy was big, but this thing was even bigger and stockier. ‘What is that?’
The horse lifted its huge head from the water trough.
‘I told you, that’s Bob. The most amazing gentle giant you’ll ever meet.’
Ward hesitated. ‘Is that a Clydesdale?’
‘Yes.’
‘I’m not riding that.’
‘We’re not going anywhere.’ Dragging him behind her, they approached Bob. ‘Unless you want to?’
‘Don’t you need a saddle? And a ladder or a crane to get on his back?’
‘The fence will do. We’ll only be here for a minute.’ Somehow, without any rope or bridles, she walked the horse to the side of the fence. ‘Come on, you can’t go to a horse farm and not get on a horse. Chicken.’ She giggled as she climbed the railings.
‘Oh man.’ He scaled the fence beside her, but the horse was so far away.
‘He’s good for this.’ She had the horse stop close to them.
‘Who?’
‘Bob. Now swing your leg over.’
‘Um?’
The horse stood still, chewing like a cow, peering through his thick lashes and a long mane.
‘Like this,’ Zara said as she effortlessly climbed onto the horse’s wide back. ‘See, you could put a bomb under Bob and he won’t move, he’s deaf.’
‘He’s big.’
‘Leg over, cowboy. Or is this your first rodeo?’
‘If I do, will I get a cowboy hat, and you’ll pin a gold star to my chest and call me Sheriff?’ He mumbled. Then he looked at Zara, biting her bottom lip, sitting on a horse. She hadn’t been on a horse since her mum died. ‘Are you okay?’
‘Um, you?’ She swallowed with a wince.
‘All right, if you can do it, so can I.’ He clambered onto Bob’s broad back. ‘Damn, he’s tall, and wide.’
‘Yeah,’ she whispered, holding the horse’s mane in a tight grip.
‘What do I hold onto?’ Seated bareback on a horse.
‘Me.’
He didn’t even blink as he slid his palms around her slender waist. ‘I guess there’s some benefit to sitting here.’ He shunted close to her back. The soft silky stray stands from her plait tickled against his cheek. ‘Now what?’
‘Would this distance be as high as what it was when you fell?’
Ward peered at the ground and frowned, holding her tighter. Damn. Everything she did was to help him. ‘Why are we here, Zara?’ Was he ready for this? Was she?
Her forehead creased, displaying fear in her eyes, licking her lips. ‘This, um… This was the horse my mum fell off,’ she said in a near whisper.
‘We don’t have to do this, Z.’ He’d forgotten his own fear as he held her back against his chest. She peeked at him through her fringe he tucked behind her ear. ‘But I’m right here with you.’
‘Good, we’ll do this together. Hold on.’ She nudged the Clydesdale, and it clomped around the pen.
‘Woah, horsey.’ Ward hugged Zara tighter.
‘We’re not stopping yet.’
‘Are you sure you’re okay to do this?’ He wasn’t.
‘If you can, so can I. We’ll both face our fears, and if we fall we’ll pick ourselves up again. But don’t tell my dad, he’ll kill me, huh. But we’re doing it.’ Her forced laugh gave him the confidence to at least try.
‘I’ve never been on a horse.’
‘Nothing to it, it’s like riding a quad.’
‘Where are the pedals, hand grips, and brakes?’ Although cuddling her was nice. Inhaling her soft warm floral fragrance, it mingled with the scents of horse, hay, and his own sweat from running—or was that from fear?
The earth moved beneath him in a whole new way, as Bob clomped his big hoofs around the holding yard for a few slow laps, then stopped.
‘How do we get off?’
‘You jump.’ Zara swung her leg over the horse’s long neck and jumped to the ground.
‘Hey?’ Stuck on a horse in the middle of the yard and nowhere near the fence. ‘Are you okay?’
Her double-dimple smile was his answer. ‘Your turn.’
Heights had never bothered him before, but the distance worried him now. He’d fallen that far to land on his head that put him in hospital. He licked his lips. The pulse pounded in his neck and his breath became shallow. He wiped his sweaty palms on borrowed sweatpants.
‘Deep breath, and jump. You can do this.’
Could he? Or was he frozen by his fear?
He thumbed the scar on his chin and eyed the distance to the fence.
When the horse shifted beneath him, without thought he leaped off and landed on both feet. ‘I did it.’
‘I knew you would.’ Her palms squeezed his upper arms and her eyes shone bright.
‘You did it too.’ A rush of pride washed over him because together they’d both faced their fears.
‘One small leap for woman, one giant leap for mankind,’ she called out in mock humour with her arms in the air.
‘I didn’t land on the moon. Although, I feel like an alien in this place.’
‘Don’t be,’ she said with concern. She opened the gate into the shed leaving Bob to clomp over to the feeding trough to resume his cow-chewing.
‘I didn’t mean it like that, I’m…’ What was that mantra of hers? ‘I’m not useless—just not used to it.’
She shared a huge smile that warmed his soul. It was beautiful, and he was so gone for this girl.
‘So, what do we do now, Z? Do you have your own church to chill on Sundays?’ He gave her a gentle nudge on the arm as they walked side by side through the shed’s main thoroughfare.
‘I veg out.’
‘How does a horse-whispering, self-confessed eternal fidgeter, veg out? Are you going to make me do chai tea too?’
Her laugh echoed like music on Christmas morning. ‘Thai Chi. Chai is a tea.’
‘I know it is, my housemate, Nick, drinks it,’ he said, grinning sideways at her. ‘What do you do as a side venture for fun, besides rescuing strangers?’
‘I paint pebbles as a form of gardening.’
‘You’ve already admitted to killing plants with kindness.’
‘And you’ve never tried to garden.’ She playfully poked at his chest.
Trapping her hand over his heart, they stood in the centre of the wide-open doorway. ‘True, but I am a master of chilling. Remember, reclining chair, widescreen, drinks fridge to not move. Hint, hint.’
‘Movies?’ Zara asked with an arched eyebrow.
He cupped a palm to his ear. ‘I think you’re singing my tune, sweetheart.’
Her laugh sung to his soul. ‘You’re so predictable.’
Was he? ‘I’m trained to be unpredictable in a game so the opposition can’t pick my next move.’ What was his next move in life? Nope, no deep thinking, not today. ‘You’re not going to make me watch some historical chick flick, or some artsy foreign film with subtitles. Unless you want me to go to sleep again, Z?’
‘I’m sure Adam’s got some movies you’d like. Only after you’ve showered, mate.’ Holding her nose she skipped ahead through the main doors.
‘I was on my way to shower before I got distracted.’ In the best possible way. ‘I’ll meet you shortly for another one of your coffees?’
‘And brunch.’
‘Done. It’s a date.’ He grinned as she peeked shyly over her shoulder, skipping up the path towards her house. It was a great view of those long legs and cute arse in her riding pants. At the veranda she kicked off her boots and stepped through the door, her odd pair of colourful socks were so bright against her black riding pants, grey hoodie and black puff vest. He liked that colour-surprise hint of her hidden personality that seemed so conservative on the outside. So, what was on the inside?
With a sigh and smile, in his horsehair covered sweaty clothes he’d never wear in public, he strolled past Max towards the bathroom. The dog gave a half thump of his stumpy tail without bothering to lift his chin from the floor. ‘You should stay there and veg out too, Max. I don’t need a chaperone on this one.’ And was looking forward to it.