want to sell any eggs put them in a carton in your mail box and the mailman will leave you two dollars. And there’s one rooster, but I’d be knocking him on the head. He’s a pain.’
Savannah tried to imagine herself knocking a rooster on the head—what did you use? A hammer? She shuddered. ‘He’s probably safe for the moment.’
Theo gave a short laugh and it changed his face into something less harsh.
Thank goodness for that. For a while there she’d thought he was the frozen man. His eyes warmed in genuine amusement and became even more mesmerising until they went cold again. She dragged her attention back to what he was saying.
‘Then there are the cattle—twenty Murray Grey breeders, a placid Murray Grey bull and fifteen vealers.’
She’d helped her uncle with the farm animals over many holidays—she wasn’t scared or lacking in confidence—but that was a heck of a lot of lives depending on her.
‘That’s all?’
‘Just Billy the horse and a couple of ducks and geese, but they’re pretty self-sufficient.’
Savannah nodded and tried to look nonchalant. ‘If you’re not in a hurry, I could come down and see the pigs with you now. What time do they normally eat?’ She put Benson down and descended the stairs to the boot rack.
Theo looked at Benson cringing and quivering on the verandah. He shook his head in disgust. Savannah thought she heard him say ‘Dishmop’ but couldn’t be sure.
He looked at his watch. ‘I’ve been coming around about five in the afternoon and eight in the morning, but they’re pretty flexible. If you leave them too long, they’ll let you know.’
Savannah tapped the wellingtons upside down on the ground and slipped one foot into her uncle’s gumboots.
Theo was much taller than she was and she could feel him looking down at her.
His voice was serious. ‘I had a green tree snake in one boot and a red-back spider in the other one yesterday.’
Savannah’s foot hovered over the second boot. Had she checked it well enough?
She heard him snort and glared up at him. ‘Very funny.’
His face was deadpan. ‘So you reckon you can run this farm on your own?’
That snapped her head up. ‘Why? Do you think I can’t?’
He stared at her for a moment as if she’d really offended him, his eyes narrowed. Then he shook his head once. ‘Lady, luckily, it’s not my problem.’ He turned and started to walk down the driveway to the sheds.
Macho moron. Savannah glared at the muscles of his back moulded against his shirt and clumped behind him in her uncle’s big boots. She’d have to get herself a pair she didn’t swim around in. She awkwardly skipped a couple of steps to make up some ground. Where had he learnt his social graces? The guy was a pain.
She almost laughed out loud when she remembered the rooster and what could happen to ‘pains’ around here. Theo probably wouldn’t notice if she hit him on the head with a hammer.
She caught up with him as they crossed the dirt road and entered the bottom paddock together. Savannah tried not to get her boots stuck between the rails of the cattle grid as she crossed, but it felt like there was a magnet drawing her into the broken spaces. The sheds were old but, thank goodness, made of thick hardwood planks that looked as if they’d still be standing if she had grandchildren one day.
It hit her then that she was the sole person responsible for a two-hundred-acre farm, a two-bedroom farmhouse and this menagerie of animals. She swallowed but Theo was getting away while she thought about it and she had to skip a couple more steps.
The pigs heard their approach and started to squeal and shriek in excitement. The thick smell of happy pigs cloyed the air but Savannah didn’t mind it.
It made her think of an uncle who’d paid her fifty cents per sty to hose them out, and had then taken her to the local show to spend the money. She could almost feel the tickle and taste of the fairyfloss they’d bought.
She followed Theo into the old office and stopped in front of the whiteboard nailed to the wall. Each pig’s name had a number next to it for the amount of pails of food it needed.
‘Bruce is the boar, I gather?’ She looked sideways at Theo. ‘So how come he gets three pails and Rosa only gets one and a half?’
‘Bruce has six women vying for his attention. He has to keep up his strength, poor guy. I couldn’t think of anything worse.’
‘Ah. A woman-hater. Personally, I feel sorry for Rosa and the other girls. He probably doesn’t shave.’
Why had she said that? She felt the rush of heat up her face but he didn’t even look at her.
‘They’re happy enough if you meet their material needs.’
I’ll bet there’s a story in that, she thought, but prudently restrained herself.
Theo had started instructing. ‘The pig pellets are in this drum. Make sure you put the brick back on top of the lid or the rats get trapped in there and jump out at you when you open it next.’
Savannah winced. That was one task she wouldn’t forget to do.
‘The pig’s water is piped to those drinking nipples at the side of each pen. You check the nipple as you feed to see if they’re working. The water is pumped from the river so you won’t run out.’
He looked at her from under his frown. ‘I hosed the concrete pens out early this morning but you need to do them at least every two days.’
‘My uncle usually did them daily and I’ll do the same.’
He grunted, looked at her as if to say ‘yeah, sure’, but didn’t comment. They walked the length of the big shed, doling out pails of feed from the bucket he’d filled and checking the water nipples. He stopped beside the last pen. ‘Louise’s litter is due in the next week. She should be fine.’
Savannah had had just about enough of his condescending looks. ‘I have my midwifery certificate, so I’m sure we’ll manage.’
His face twitched, then he smiled, and then he chuckled. It was deep and rumbly and infectious.
Savannah couldn’t help her own smile as she watched him in surprise. He threw back his head and she stared at the strong column of his throat as he laughed.
He wiped his eyes and dragged himself under control. And looked almost as surprised at himself as she was. ‘I’m sorry, it’s the thought of you telling the sow to breathe while you catch the piglets.’ His expression straightened. ‘I’d love to be a fly on the wall.’
His cheekbones were high and his lips were more sexy than sculpted. She wondered what those bristles would feel like against her face.
This was getting crazy. ‘Well, there seem to be a few flies already on the wall here, and I think that’s everybody fed. I need to meet the chickens.’
