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He didn’t get back into the truck. Every passing kilometre competed with the aching of his muscles. The banging inside his head grew no louder, maintaining its irritating white noise hum of distraction. Wiri made sure Seline drove ahead of him and climbed out at every stop. On a long downhill slope during which every footstep jarred his spine, he compiled a file of notes as a Google document on his phone. He set it to share to his cousin’s email address as soon as he got a decent enough Internet connection. He imagined Mac’s confusion when he opened it and discovered notes about a group of people he’d never met. The lock screen displayed six missed calls. Guilt prickled at the back of his neck at ignoring both Logan’s and Hana’s attempts to contact him. They loved him and wanted the best for him. “But I’m a rubbish liar,” he whispered, and stuffed his phone back into his pocket.
Having the document as an insurance policy made him feel better. He’d added a message for Mac to contact a local cop named Tane and give him the information if anything happened to Wiri. He sighed and continued his long trudge towards the final paddock containing the horses.
Seline waited for him by the fence. She’d unfastened another button and added lip gloss to her winning smile. “This is ridiculous,” she said, her tone soft. “You look like death warmed up. Just get into the truck. I can finish feeding the horses.”
Wiri glared at her and dropped the tail gate. He hauled himself onto the flat bed and tossed the remaining bales over the side, where they scattered strands of hay into the scrubby grass. Skirting around her, he pushed them over the fence and watched the horses jockey for pole position. He leaned through the gap between the panels and popped the twine with his knife, sliding it from around each of the bales and adding it to the growing ball in his pocket.
“You missed one.” Seline pointed to the stray bale which had landed on its short end and leaned up against the back tyre. Wiri kept her in his peripheral vision while he dug the fingers of his right hand under the orange twine and hefted the bale to the paddock gate. He let himself in and closed it behind him. Hay tumbled like snowflakes as he carried the bale a distance from the gathered crowd of horses. He laid it on the ground and cut the twine before approaching the row of swishing tails and stamping hooves.
The pregnant mare didn’t object to Wiri’s gentle tugging on her mane as he shed her from the melee. She followed him, subdued, as he led her over to the loose bale. “Here you go, girl,” he whispered, patting her neck as she stretched her muzzle towards the feast. “Let them fight over there while you eat all you need.” He ran his right palm over her strong plates of muscle and lifted her feet one at a time. Vaughan’s faith in the mare seemed so tenuous and risky. He’d funnelled his hope into the tiny foal whose weight caused the mare’s belly to hang low and distended. Wiri ran his hand over the lumps and bumps which designated a hoof or a muzzle and wished for a good outcome.
For all of them.
Despite her advanced pregnancy, the mare proved feisty. She defended her slices of hay against marauders by turning her backside on any who dared to approach her feast. Wiri patted her neck and left her alternately spinning her rear and gorging on the hay. He returned to the gate, opening and closing it with relief.
“Mum wanted us to check the fences.” Seline’s manicured brows curved in towards the bridge of her nose. “Get back in the truck.”
Wiri snorted. “Did you drive blind? I checked all the fences on our way around the property. Same as I did yesterday.” His energy levels depleted by degrees, the sands sliding through the narrow neck of the hourglass to leave him with only enough to get back to the house.
“Just get in the truck.” Seline’s soft tone lulled him, promising him a few minutes to catch his breath and assess his aches and pains. She walked towards him and he lacked the momentum to shift out of her way. Her fingers curved around his right elbow. “Come on. I’ll drive you back to your place.” She lifted her wrist to check an expensive analogue watch. “We need to talk. And you need to sit down for a minute.”
Her pressure against his arm guided Wiri towards the truck. “I need to keep going,” he said, digging his heels in and halting their progress. The long list of jobs which Vaughan had reeled off on Monday morning seemed endless. And a lifetime ago. He shuddered at the memory of the second item on the list beneath the fencing repairs.
Patch up the water tank.
“Why?” He rounded on Seline and dragged his arm from her grip. “What did I ever do to you?” He staggered backwards, shaking his head and sensing his brain rocking on its stem. A raging thirst sprang up in his throat, sucking the moisture from his mouth and causing his tongue to stick to its roof.
Resignation flooded Seline’s expression. She pursed her lips and sadness swept over her features. “It’s not personal,” she said. A toss of her red hair seemed to send the responsibility for his misery over her shoulder and into the dirt. “Come on. I’ll drive you back to the house.”
The driver’s door clicked shut and Wiri watched the truck shudder as the engine fired. The horses nearest the fence stopped fighting over the hay and shied backwards in fear. Food won over anxiety and within seconds, they’d buried their muzzles back into the tufty mounds. Wiri turned to contemplate the distance remaining until he’d walked home. The downhill slope proved more painful, the impact of each step jarring his spine and his head. The brake lights flashed on the back of the truck as Seline engaged the gear lever and he sighed. He knew what she wanted.
And it wasn’t him.
