CHAPTER 37

Evie takes the stairs two at a time, relieved George knows the truth about what his father did with Grandpa’s work. He’s taken it better than she thought, but he’s seen this behavior before so he’s not shocked by his father’s dishonesty. George has definitely passed the test thinks Evie, but what he does with this information now is up to him.

Evie’s given herself a headache thinking about all of this and she hurries outside to find Rhino. She tracks him down with Dominique and Bernard. They’re grazing together under the cypress trees in the house paddock. The three of them are standing side-by-side, so close they could be touching, like pieces of a puzzle.

Rhino stops chewing and lifts his head when he hears Evie coming. His ears swivel and flick and Evie touches Rhino’s nose in greeting. He snuffles her hair before yawning and huffing his grassy breath all over her. The two of them stare at each other.

They don’t need any words and she wraps her arms around his neck and leans into him, breathing in his earthy scent. She snuggles into his warmth and strength and whispers into his ear.

“I will never forget you. Ever.”

Rhino waddles over to the fence for Evie to clamber up onto his back and they gallop to the beach.

Rhino grunts as he goes up the dune but they rest at the top, taking in the view of the bay. He watches as Evie raises her arms above her head and turns her face to the sea. Inhaling a lungful of air, she screams. Rhino follows her lead, huffing in a deep breath before bellowing with similar gusto.

She grins at him before tumbling down the face of the sand dune with a one-tonne, very nimble Rhino close behind her.

Two pied oystercatchers skip in front of them, taking off over the water. They wail their sad cry, and Evie drops to her knees at the water’s edge.

She scans the horizon. The swell is glassy and sluggish, unpredictable, as if it can’t decide what to do next. She kneels on the shore with her eyes closed. Beside her, Rhino is listening too. He sits quietly, his body light against hers. She places one hand on her heart and reaches out with the other to touch Rhino’s neck.

I know you’re there Mama, Papa.

After a long moment, Rhino blows in her ear to let her know that he, too, is there. She opens her eyes and hugs him.

Rhino can feel the golden-haired child is savoring a moment, like he savors the divine stink of his wallow on a stiff breeze or the delightful scent of new shoots of grass or the cloying reek of fresh chicken manure. He knows what it is to savor. But there’s bitter tang to the human child. There’s sorrow inside her, mingled with grief and loss. He huffles her hair and licks her face. She always smells delicious, of milk and honey. Of all things good. And everything the human child is feeling, he understands. But she needs to understand this – once we are loved, we are never forgotten.

Rhino farts explosively and Evie rocks back on her heels and laughs.

Instead of grieving for Rhino, which Evie will do well enough when he’s gone, she promises to enjoy every last minute she has left with him. Evie wants to remember everything about Rhino. His big round head, his hairy ears, his long-lashed brown eyes, and his warm grassy breath against her cheek. She will remember his bouncy trot, his wobbly bottom, and his lip-curling grins. His patience, his kindness, his deep love of chickens, and his loyal devotion to Bernard and especially to Dominique.

But what Evie will miss most of all is Rhino’s presence. When she’s near him, she feels whole again. The aching blackness that engulfed her after her parents died lifted because of him. Her voice returned, all because of her love for Rhino. And his love for her.

A lump forms in Evie’s throat but she forces it away and stands up, brushing the sand from her dress. Rhino looks at her, his head to one side. She rubs his ears before running off along the beach and calling for him to follow her.

Not far out to sea, gray clouds are scudding and rolling in on top of one another.

Another storm is coming.