After I’d cleaned up the lunch dishes, I decided to make some room in the bedroom for my own possessions which were arriving the next day. I didn’t own a lot, but what I had was quality and I was looking forward to sleeping on my queen size mattress and thousand thread count sheets.
Clifford seemed to have made himself comfortable on Matilda’s bed for an afternoon nap now his belly was full, so I left him alone and spent an hour or so moving the unnecessary furniture out of my room and placing it all on the back verandah. I’d transport it all to the old house which was already storing Matilda’s overflow of possessions as soon as Noah showed me where the Ute lived. I really needed to investigate that house and make sure there was enough room to store everything until I could figure out what I should do with it. Considering the conversation I’d had with Ethan, I probably shouldn’t get rid of anything just yet.
I was making my way out of the room with the last of the boxes stored in the wardrobe when a breeze pushed the door to Matilda’s room open. I couldn’t see a cloud in the sky, but I wondered if an afternoon storm was brewing.
I shivered and looked in on Clifford. “Clifford, you want to come for a walk?”
He jumped off the bed and drool pooled from his mouth as he panted at an alarming rate.
“Clifford, what’s wrong buddy?” He heaved and threw up at my feet. When he was done, he sank his bottom to the floor, his eyes large and sad.
“Oh geez!” I scooped him in my arms and made my way through the house, running to the one person I knew who could help. Noah.
Noah was a rock. He immediately laid Clifford on the back seat of his vehicle, instructed me to sit with him, and then drove us to Littlebrook, whereby Dave the vet, took Clifford to a back room and told us to take a seat.
I sank onto the hard timber bench and dropped my elbows to my knees. Taking my head in my hands, I rubbed my eyes and willed the knot in my stomach to go away.
“He’s going to be okay, isn’t he?” I asked, more to reassure myself than for an actual answer.
Noah sat beside me, and I felt his warmth as he placed his hand on my shoulder, then gently rubbed my back.
“Clifford’s a tough boy, and Dave will do everything humanly possible to help him.”
I nodded and blinked back the sting in my eyes.
“I don’t understand what happened. One minute he was stealing the scones and the next time I saw him he was vomiting. I shouldn’t have left them where he could reach them. I’m so sorry.”
“Tilly, don’t get upset. Clifford’s always getting into things he shouldn’t. It’s not your fault.”
“But I should have done something.” The familiar feeling of panic was starting to bubble in my chest, as I wrung my hands together. “I should have prevented it!” I stood abruptly, my legs restless and needing to move. Noah met me and pulled me in close wrapping his arms around my shoulders allowing his heat to soothe the panic.
“You did everything you could.”
“But I didn’t know what to do! I should know this stuff. I’m responsible for him now. I should know how to help him.”
“You did know. You brought him to me and together we helped him. Dave’s amazing and he will do whatever is needed. Clifford will be fine.”
“How do you know that?” I asked, allowing myself to lean into his chest. His strength helped me regain control of my breath, and I appreciated the comfort he was offering.
“Because he’s strong.”
Noah allowed me to lean on him until I calmed down. It felt good to be there. Not just because he was helping me with Clifford, but because it had been a long time since a man had stood beside me when I needed his strength. Warwick was a great person, but he was always so busy helping others that it didn’t leave a lot of time for me. I knew I shouldn’t need a man to be strong, but every now and again it felt nice to be comforted in times of a crisis.
The door to the back room opened and Dave appeared, his brow soft and a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
The knot still consuming my stomach released slightly and I stepped out of Noah’s arms.
“How is he?” I immediately asked, rushing toward him.
“He’s going to be fine. I’m confident he’ll make a full recovery.”
The knot dissolved and I blinked back tears of relief.
“I’m going to keep him here on a drip for a while,” Dave explained.
Noah moved alongside me as I fiddled with the ends of my hair, twirling it around my finger.
“What was wrong with him?” Noah asked. I wanted to ask the same thing but I was afraid of the answer.
“I think it’s poison.” Dave nodded. “He’s displaying enough of the symptoms.”
“But he only ate the scones. Are they poisonous to dogs?” I asked.
“Not usually.”
“What did you put in them, Tilly?” Noah asked.
“I didn’t bake them. They were a gift.”
“From who? Maybe you can ask them if there was any unusual ingredient in them.”
“I have no idea where they came from.” I quickly explained how I’d got them.
Noah scratched his head, deep creases marring his perfect brow. “Was there a note?”
Yes, but I hadn’t read it because I was too preoccupied with Ethan.
“Probably from the Country Women’s Association ladies,” Dave suggested.
Noah’s brow creased.
“But you’re sure Clifford’s going to be okay?” I asked again for reassurance.
Dave nodded again. “Yeah, we’ve got to him quickly. He’s already looking brighter.”
“Can I see him?” I asked.
“Sure, just don’t get him excited.” Dave indicated for us to follow him.
The Littlebrook Veterinary Surgery was pretty small, taking up residence in the front part of an old house. Dave lived at the back which was super convenient.
We followed him through to a room where Clifford was now lying in a cage, a drip connected to his front leg. The room smelled of disinfectant, and I squinted against the glare of the overhead lights bouncing off the stainless-steel benches.
Clifford whined as I stepped closer to him.
“I’m sorry, little man,” I pushed my fingers through the wire to stroke his paw. “But you hang in there, okay? I know we’ve only just met but I’ve kind of fallen for you already.” I kissed my fingertips and pressed them to Clifford’s forehead.
He sighed and his head flopped back to his blanket.
“Call me if anything changes, please?” I asked Dave, holding back the tears. “It doesn’t matter what time, please just call.”
“I will. And you can call me for an update at any time.”
Noah was quiet on the way back as we zoomed past acre after acre of copper colored paddocks just like the ones at Dun Roamin’.
“What are they growing?” I asked, noting the pretty color in the late afternoon light.
“Sorghum. It’ll be ready to harvest soon. Doesn’t look like it’ll be getting a very high yield this year.”
“What’s it used for?”
“Traditionally this area sells for livestock feed, but the last few years it’s getting more money for ethanol. Not that we get a lot for it.”
“Is that what you’re growing?”
Noah nodded.
“Is it a good year for you?”
“It’s average. Not good but not bad either. We were lucky because we got rain just at the crucial time. A few properties not that far from us weren’t so lucky.”
“What happens to them if they don’t get a good crop? Is that all they produce?”
“Pretty much. A few irrigated properties are growing cotton and they’re doing a lot better financially.”
“Are we irrigated?”
Noah once again shook his head. “Not yet. We have a small dam but it’s not big enough for what we need. I’m hoping that if we can get a few good years under our belt we may be able to implement one.”
The vehicle slowed and we turned into our driveway.
“If you come to the town meeting on Friday, you’ll meet our neighbors Don and Margie Barrett,” He continued. “A lot of the locals are selling up and moving away.”
“Why?”
“The seasons have just been too hard. Plus, they’re getting offered some pretty good money and the chance to get out while they can and it is too good to turn down.”
“How does that work? If the seasons aren’t great, then why are they getting good money for their properties?”
Noah sighed. “The Super farms are gradually buying up Littlebrook. It’s backed by an overseas conglomerate with a lot of money.”
“And people are selling to them?”
“Yep. Most farms are handed down through the generations. People love the land, but farming is getting harder and harder to make a living off of. The money’s too good to refuse.”
“That’s sad.”
Noah pulled to a stop outside my house. “It is, but it’s the way it is.”
“Matilda never considered selling to the Super farms?”
“Nope. She hated them. She believed the land should stay in the family, passed down from generation to generation. I think that’s why she left her share to you, not anyone else.”
I jolted at his words. “Why do you think that?”
“I think she saw something in you she didn’t see in others in her family.”
“She didn’t think I would sell it?”
“Was she right?”
I looked at the fading sun as it disappeared over the roof, noting the red and pink light reflected from the heavens.
“It really is beautiful out here,” I whispered. “I can see how easy it would be to fall in love with the place. I just don’t know if I have what it takes. Eventually the inheritance money will run out and I’ll need to make a living. How am I going to do that?”
Noah reached across and gently squeezed my hand. Silence surrounded us and I could almost feel his heartbeat echo in the cab.
“You’re not alone Tilly. I’ll help you any way I can.”
My eyes moved to his and for a moment I held his gaze, an unspoken emotion passing between us.
Then an uncomfortable thought prickled me, and I broke his gaze and looked away. “Can you afford to buy me out if I do decide to sell?” I asked, my voice low and quiet.
Noah sighed and moved his hand away from mine.
“I’d certainly try to. I can guarantee the Super farms will make you a good offer, but I’ll mortgage everything to match it if I have to. The Mackenzie’s aren’t going anywhere, no matter how much they offer us.” His eyes radiated a fierceness that showed me just what he was made of.
“You’re stronger than you think Tilly.” He reached out and once again squeezed my hand.
He was the second person to tell me this today, and he was the second person I didn’t really believe.
“I hope you’re right.” I gave him a tight smile then climbed out of the cab, quietly closing the door behind me.
As he drove away a coolness enveloped me, and I rubbed my arms making my way inside. Flipping light switches, I moved toward the front of the house. It felt lonely without Clifford. In the short space of time I’d known him, he’d already become my friend.
When I reached Matilda’s room, I stood at the open doorway and looked at her bed, wanting to shy away and close the door behind me. Instead I took some deep calming breaths and stepped inside the room.
“He’s going to be okay, Matilda,” I whispered. “Dave said we got him there nice and quick. He’s going to be home before we know it.”
A breeze picked up and swirled around me, causing a note to fall at my feet. It was the note that had accompanied the scones. The words Welcome to Littlebrook. Enjoy! danced in front of my eyes and I wondered who had left the scones.
And then I wondered why they made Clifford so sick.