A few weeks later, Kate stood by her ute at the Campbell Town showgrounds and watched the men at the gates huddle next to a glowing 44. The drum smoked and shot out orange sparks into the white mist. The men shoved their hands under their armpits for warmth, and waited for the sun to break through the early-morning fog.
Below Kate, on the lower oval, four-wheel drives towing horse floats rolled in and competitors clattered rugged and bandaged horses down heavy float ramps. She thought of Matilda and Paterson back at Janie’s. Unrugged, unbrushed, lazing and grazing in the short paddocks.
While she’d never been into showing, Kate loved the gloss of the pampered horses, the way they cruised the ring with their curved shining necks and flowing tails. She longed to do something with her own horses, like join a polocrosse team. But for now any sort of horse sports would have to wait. Her new job was eating up all her time. It was similar to the one she’d had in Orange, so she slotted into it easily, feeling comfortable in her role as a rural advisor. Even though she was not at Bronty, she was still home, here in her island state, and Nell was by her side. Janie would pick Nell up in the mornings and slot her into the twins’ routine. Kate would work until about five then go up to the main house to collect Nell. She would find Nell happily playing with the twins, pushing strollers, riding bikes, reading books. Kate noticed Janie looking less frazzled.
‘She’s so good with them,’ Janie enthused after the first week of minding Nell. ‘I’m not continually having to break up fights anymore. She’ll entertain them for hours. When I have to tend to one twin, Nell distracts the other. Plus, I’m not so lonely anymore. I know I’ve got you to gasbag with. I think I really should be paying you and Nell!’
‘I’m so glad it’s a two-way thing,’ Kate said to her friend.
Now, at the Campbell Town show, Kate turned her attention to the main showground where one-tonne utes with stock crates pulled up outside the giant corrugated-iron sheep pavilion. The men flipped back tarps to reveal spiral-horned Merino rams, trimmed and tarted-up for the show. Inside, the pavilion was coming to life with the clang of gates and the deep bleats of sheep as they were penned on thick beds of golden straw. Next door to the sheep pavilion, the coffee caravan had a queue of still-sleepy exhibitors hoping to warm their fingers around cardboard cups of latte. Near the inviting drift of fresh roasted coffee, ladies in the home industry pavilion were already engaged in frosty spats over whose handiwork should be displayed where.
Kate took in the scene, all the while running her hands over the warm back of Will’s young kelpie, Bra. The dog leaned into the pressure of Kate’s hand, arching her back like a cat. It was nice to take the young dog out on her own, Kate thought, without old Sheila and Grumpy to divert Bra’s attention.
In the past weeks, at Dave and Janie’s, Kate had been getting to know Bra, helping out with the stock work when she had time. Bra was a nimble little red and tan bitch, with bright button eyes and a willing mind. Although she hadn’t done much work with her, Kate was determined to run her in the trials today as Will had planned. That was if her boss would give her some time off the stand today.
Kate watched as a white stationwagon pulled to a halt at the gate. As the window slid down, Kate saw it was Lisa, her new boss. Kate stepped out from behind her ute.
‘Here she is,’ she said to Bra. ‘Now you sit and stay. And be a good dog.’ Bra thumped her tail loudly against the tray of the ute in response. ‘Morning!’ Kate called as Lisa drove towards her. ‘Good trip up from Hobart?’
Lisa extracted herself from behind the wheel, her navy pants creased at the top of her chubby thighs.
‘Bit frosty,’ she said, reaching for her dark green polarfleece with a Tassie tiger logo emblazoned on the chest. Kate had only met Lisa in person for the first time a few weeks ago, when she’d gone to Hobart to meet her rural advisor team and pick up all her paperwork.
In Hobart, as the glass-panelled doors slid open, Kate felt smothered by the plushness of the RCS office. But her scepticism dissolved when she met the bunch of agronomists, soil scientist and ag. finance experts who worked there. Their scuffed Blundstone boots and unpretentiousness defied their surroundings. They all had agricultural credentials a mile long but were still totally down to earth. And there was Lisa, swamped by her big important desk. She was the cheeriest and friendliest of the lot. A dairy-farmer’s daughter, Lisa had glowing white teeth and solid bones to prove it. Short in stature but big on energy, Lisa was just the person to keep Kate keen on the job. She was informal to the point of seeming like a bushie rather than a qualified agricultural scientist and business manager.
She looked very much at home out here at the country show, Kate thought. So thick were her little legs, Lisa almost waddled to the rear door of the stationwagon. Heaving it open she said, ‘Come on, slacker, we’d better get set up.’ But as Kate helped her drag the large display boards from the back, she couldn’t help feeling her heart sink a little, despite Lisa’s bubbly presence.
Here she was at a show, again, with sheep judging and yard dog trials going all day, but she’d miss most of it. Instead of being a farmer and attending shows for the pleasure of it and for the information they provided, Kate was again working on other people’s dreams for their own farms. Plus, there’d be no time for pet parades with Nell or face painting or fairy floss. Janie was baby-sitting Nell with the twins at the show today.
Nor, tonight, would there be any drunken predatory adventures at the bar. She was home now, in Tassie’s small pond. She had to behave. She wanted to behave. There could be no more running away. And if she couldn’t go home to Bronty, or make a play for Nick, all she had was this job.
Kate sighed. She’d spend today inside the pavilion at the RCS display trying to seem revved about the meet-and-greet sessions with her potential farmer clients. But she felt the clouds of her past gathering around her. She knew the local people trickling by would see her and take note. Then there was Nell, the little blonde daughter, who seemed to have appeared from nowhere. People would talk today. Kate knew it. Summing up how she looked. How she behaved. They would look at her and label her as the one who had lost her mother and her brother. She would be the girl who had ‘got into trouble’ after her mother died and went away to have the baby. She was the daughter Henry Webster had kicked out after he married that dolly bird from the cruise ship: the fancy woman who had brought her kids over from the mainland to sponge off him. Kate could almost hear the words that would run around their heads as they looked at her. She felt trapped.
‘It’ll be a bit strange at first,’ Lisa said, sensing Kate’s nerves. ‘It can be hard coming back to Tassie from the mainland and flexing your university muscle for the first time here. I know it was for me. Everyone still saw me as a kid. It takes a while for them to realise you’ve got knowledge to offer them.’
Kate smiled and nodded, grateful for Lisa’s sensitivity.
As they carted another display board past Kate’s ute, Lisa nodded in Bra’s direction. ‘I see you’ve got your pooch with you. Were you thinking of doing a runner from the stand at some stage today to work her?’
Kate shrugged as best she could while carrying a steel-framed, carpeted display panel.
‘She was my brother’s dog. He was training her up for trial-ling. He’d mentioned that he had her entered in the novice for this show.’
Lisa cast Kate a caring look.
‘I know what it’s like at these gigs,’ she said, walking backwards as she lugged the panel. ‘It’s tough talking shop all day. I’m sure you’ll find time to work her. I can cover for you when you’re up.’
‘Really?’ Kate said, her face brightening. ‘I didn’t like to ask, being so new to the job. I just thought I’d bring her in case. Do her good to see a bit more of the world anyway, even if it is from the back of a ute.’
‘Go for it. I’m glad you did bring her along. I’ve heard how great you are with departmental PR at shows. You get very close to the clientele, I hear.’
Lisa shot her a meaningful glance and Kate’s mouth dropped open as she recalled her drunken behaviour at the Orange Show and her snog with Clothesline Man. Her reputation had made it over the water.
‘What do you mean?’ she asked, trying to sound innocent.
‘Half your luck,’ Lisa went on, laughing. ‘I’ve never pulled a fella at a show. Not once. Not for lack of trying.’
Kate’s face shone with the widest grin. Working with Lisa was set to be more than just fun. She was a crack-up. ‘Huh! I’ll have you know, I’m a changed woman!’
‘Yeah? I’d like to see that.’ Then the two girls disappeared into the darkness of the shed, their laughter drifting out from the pavilion door.
Mid-morning, before the crowd thickened, Kate stole away from the stand to get Lisa a cup of coffee and to search for Janie and the kids. It was a good chance to get signed in at the dog trials and give Bra a walk.
At the tent the yard-dog secretary slid the entry form and a pen in front of Kate, while Bra stood at her feet sniffing in the direction of the sheep.
‘He’d be bloody proud of you having a go with his pup, Will would,’ the secretary said, looking out from behind a long blonde fringe. ‘We all miss him, you know. He was a bloody nice bloke.’
‘Thanks,’ said Kate. She paused. ‘I’m supposed to be working here with my boss today too, so I can’t hang around to watch at all. Would it be okay if …’
‘Don’t worry,’ the young woman said. ‘One of the boys will come and get you when you’re up in the draw.’ Her pretty round face opened up with a genuine smile.
‘I’m Katrina, by the way. Will often talked about you, when he wasn’t pooping himself with nerves before his trial runs.’
‘Nice to meet you, Katrina,’ Kate said. ‘I don’t expect to do any good with her but I thought I’d get her out … for Will.’
‘She’ll be fine,’ Katrina said. Then she cocked her head to one side. ‘The association was going to call to see if we could do anything to help on the farm, but we weren’t sure how you’d take it … if we could do anything.’
Kate smiled gratefully.
‘I’m not out at Bronty anymore. But thanks anyway …’
As they chatted, Kate felt the lead jerking in her hand as Bra danced about and tugged on the other end. Kate looked down to see why the dog was uncharacteristically bounding about. There, biting her in a friendly way on the scruff of her neck, was a big black and tan kelpie. Kate’s gaze followed the dog’s blue stretch of nylon leash to see Nick on the other end. His shoulders looked massive in a bulky dark coat and a big black hat. His face was serious. Deadpan.
‘I think your bitch is trying to crack onto my dog,’ he said. Then the light of his smile radiated out from under the dark brim of his hat. Straight white teeth framed by full lips, smile lines and that dimple. Kate noticed dark-brown stubble on his square jaw, but couldn’t lift her eyes to meet his.
‘She’s no floozy,’ Kate said. ‘She’s just a pup, that’s all. She’s not old enough to be into that kind of caper.’
‘Isn’t she now?’
Kate glanced up and caught the glint in Nick’s blue eyes. He was flirting with her. Panicked, but thrilled, she looked beyond him.
‘Where’s Felicity?’
Nick nodded in the direction of the horse arena, where black, chestnut and bay horses with bright white bandaged legs circled on collected reins, warming up before their classes.
‘She’s over there. Playing Saddle Club.’
‘Oh,’ said Kate vaguely.
‘You’re not riding? Not into showing horses?’
‘No. Not horses that you shampoo, anyway,’ Kate said. ‘Besides, I’m working.’
‘Working, eh? Working a dog or working working?’ he said, nodding at her polarfleece vest with the logo.
‘Bit of both,’ Kate said.
‘Every time I see you lately, you’re working. Do you get any time off for play? We could play together today, like our dogs.’
Kate felt fear and delight rumble again in her stomach. He was flirting. In the shearing shed, he’d been frustratingly matey with her. Under the shelter of that roof, she’d felt comfortable with him. Now, in public, as Nick larked about with her, Kate felt wide open and vulnerable. She couldn’t flirt with him. The more she saw of him, the sooner she’d have to tell him about Nell. But she couldn’t do it yet. She was set to counsel his family soon. It was scheduled in her diary. She was meant to be a third party, objective and removed from their situation. Someone to assist without the baggage of emotion. Plus, there was Felicity. At that moment, standing before Nick, Kate panicked.
‘If I did get time off,’ she said, ‘I wouldn’t play with you. You seem to forget, your plaything’s over there in the horse arena.’ She said it almost nastily, then instantly regretted it.
Nick opened his mouth, then shut it. She could see him trying to figure out why she’d snapped at him. There had been none of this feeling in the Bronty shed. She tried to think of something to say to soften her rude comment, but she felt the weight of a man’s hand on her shoulder. She glanced over and noticed the bandy-legged bloke was doing the same to Nick. The man stood, the narrow slits of his eyes filled with amusement. Katrina looked up from her bookwork and laughed too.
‘Can I put in an order for a pup?’ the man said in a smoky voice. ‘They’d make a terrific cross.’ Kate noticed the black gap in the man’s smile. She frowned, wondering what he was talking about. Then she looked down at the end of the lead.
Nick’s dog, Tuff, and Bra were knotted in lovers’ bliss, doggy style. Tuff’s tongue lolled to one side, his eyes gleamed with pride and excitement as his body lay draped across Bra. Bra looked nervous but exhilarated, her eyes bright.
‘Oh my God,’ Kate said, horrified.
‘Thought you said she was too young,’ Nick said. A wicked smile on his face.
‘She is too young to have pups!’ Kate squealed. Then embarrassment burned on her cheeks. As the dogs stood locked together panting, like some grotesque two-headed vision from Hades, the dog triallers and the people wandering about the showgrounds began to point and laugh. Kate shut her eyes, wishing like hell the dogs would hurry up and untwine themselves.
‘When you’re ready, Tuff,’ Nick said to his dog. ‘When you’re ready. Just make sure you get her phone number so she can’t do a runner on you.’
Kate searched his face. Was he referring to her in some way?
Hours later in the pavilion, Kate lifted her tired feet up and down and looked about.
‘Crowd’s starting to thin,’ she said.
Lisa flicked her head to one side.
‘Go on with you, then. Git.’
It had been a busy day. Kate had withdrawn from the trials because of a rule that stated bitches on heat couldn’t compete. Instead she’d spent the entire day working. She’d buried her embarrassment about the dogs by talking earnestly with farmers who inquired about the consultancy service.
Janie had appeared around lunchtime with the twins and Nell. Nell had a painted kelpie dog face with thick black whiskers. In her grubby hands she held a fat red balloon, and a ring of tomato sauce rimmed her lips.
Kate picked her up and hugged her. ‘What’s on your mouth, you grub?’
‘Hot chips,’ Nell said.
Janie screeched with laughter when Kate told her the knotted dog story and doubled over wheezing so that people stopped and stared.
‘You two just can’t stop breeding,’ she whispered, before ushering Nell away alongside the double pram that was loaded up with the twins and an assortment of lairy looking showbags.
Bra was locked in the cab of Kate’s ute, curled up asleep after her very public liaison, the seeds of Tuff’s wild oats sown. At the end of the day, Kate had a long list of names, addresses and phone numbers ready for the RCS mailing list, and she had a secret thrill at the thought that her bitch might now be in pup to Nick McDonnell’s dog. She tried to concentrate on her work. Looking down at her clipboard, she noted that ten people had booked for home appointments already, a good number, according to Lisa, who knew how long it took for people to realise the benefits of the service and to trust the people running it.
Kate put down her list and bit the end of her pen. She sighed loudly.
‘If you’re quick you’ll probably be able to catch the last run of the dog trials,’ Lisa said. ‘Just don’t do a runner to the bar before coming back to help me lug this stuff out.’
‘You sure?’
Lisa nodded.
‘Thanks!’ Kate pulled on her jacket, flicked her ponytail out from under it and was about to go when Lisa spoke again.
‘But no more sexual acts in public,’ she cautioned with a grin.
‘Who? Me or the dog?’
‘Both of you!’
‘Thanks. I’ll try,’ Kate said, pulling a face before jogging outside.
At the rail, Kate watched Matthew Johnson finish up with his muscular dog Modra with a handy score of 85, shooting him to the lead of the Open. As she joined the crowd in clapping Matthew and his dog from the ground, she felt someone tug her ponytail. She spun round.
‘Jonesy!’ she said.
‘Heard your dog’s got fleas,’ he said.
‘Fleas? What are you on about?’ Kate asked.
‘Yeah. It had an itch to scratch and was scratched.’
‘Hah. Very funny. I didn’t know Bra was on heat and I’d have to pull her from the comp.’
‘Sounds like she pulled something else from all accounts,’ came another voice. It was Razor.
Kate grimaced. ‘If I get one more ribbing about my rooting bitch I’ll —’
But before she could finish speaking the PA system crackled to life.
‘Our next competitor is Nick McDonnell and his dog Tuff. He had a first-round score of 83 this morning and is in contention for second place. But seeing as his dog already scored earlier in the morning, by getting into Kate Webster’s Bra, it’ll be interesting to see if old Tuff’s still got the energy to get round the course this afternoon.’
A ripple of knowing laughter travelled through the crowd and Kate felt their eyes falling on her. Nick doffed his hat, smiled widely and shook his head, before taking his place in the big yard ready for the cast.
With Nick’s concentration squarely on the sheep and his dog, Kate took the opportunity to drink him in. She recognised the little mannerisms she knew so well from watching Nell. The crease in his brow, the way he held his mouth slightly to the side as he concentrated on counting the sheep through the draft. The lift of his eyebrow. But she soon got lost in thoughts that had nothing to do with Nell. As Nick bent over to loop the chain on the gate, she took in his perfectly filled jeans. She watched the flex of his forearm muscles and his strong, sure hands. Beneath his hat, his cheeks were smooth and perfect, as was his square-set jaw. His voice was deep and soothing as he worked quietly and calmly with his dog to get the sheep rattling through the porta-yards.
When Nick shut the gate, the crowd clapped lightly. He’d finished his round in good time, but not good enough to beat Modra, Tassie’s top dog.
Nick stooped to pat his dog, then climbed from the yards. Kate almost melted with desire as he came towards her with that smile on his face and his dog at his heels. She watched as men stepped forward to shake his hand. Kate turned and began to walk away. She couldn’t let herself think about him like that. She would help Lisa pack up and get home to Nell. She’d leave Nick to receive his congratulations from Felicity. That’s how it should be. Kate was almost to the pavilion when she heard his voice.
‘Better luck next time, Kate,’ Nick said, falling easily into step beside her with his long legs. ‘And I’m really sorry about your bitch.’
Kate shook her head, not looking at him. ‘Don’t worry about it.’
‘No, I mean it. I’m sorry. Really. I’ll help you with the pups, I promise. I’ll pay vet costs and bring you some tucker for them and help you find buyers. I’ve already had a few people here today say they’re keen …’
Kate kept walking. She didn’t speak. If only he knew, she kept thinking, if only he knew about Nell.
A bit put out by her behaviour, but amused at her mood, Nick gave up. He stopped and called after her, ‘Well, if I knew you were going to be like this, I would’ve charged you a bloody service fee!’