and herbs, homemade jams or soaps and woven shawls.
Now it was Fern who needed their help, but her friends were an itinerant lot, and nearly all of them had drifted away from Sugar Bay.
The heifer was lying down by the time they reached her. Daniel retrieved a length of binder twine from the back of the ute. Lily wondered what it was for, but she didn’t ask.
At the fence, he paused and held down two rungs of barbed wire with his boot, then offered a hand to help her over. Her legs were only just long enough for her to clamber over the fence without scratching her bare thighs, and she wished she was wearing jeans.
It didn’t help that Daniel seemed rather distracted by her shorts. She felt a little flustered as she landed on the other side, and she had to grip his hand tightly to keep her balance. And then her hat fell off.
With an easy swoop of one long arm, Daniel retrieved it, and at first she thought he was going to pop it casually on her head. But she should have known there was nothing casual about Daniel Renton.
He hesitated, and then handed the hat to her rather formally. But his smile was so unexpectedly shy and enchanting that she wondered why there weren’t a dozen or more females buzzing about his property, offering to clean his house and to clear his lantana, or to fix him something more substantial for lunch than bread and cheese.
However, his smile vanished just as quickly as it had come, and he turned his attention to the labouring heifer.
The poor thing’s sides were inflated as if she was holding her breath, and two little black hooves protruded from her rear end.
Making soothing noises, Daniel examined her with gentle hands, murmuring something Lily couldn’t quite catch, before he began to tie the twine around the protruding hooves.
‘It’s just as I thought,’ he said. ‘The calf’s a bit big for her,’
Lily winced, thinking of the pain. ‘Poor darling.’
‘I think she’ll be OK with a little help.’
To Lily’s surprise, he planted his booted foot on the heifer’s hindquarter, gained leverage, and then began to pull down on the twine, easing first one little hoof and then the other.
The air was very still and hot out in the middle of the paddock, and Lily was grateful for her shady hat. The rest of the cattle were some distance away, grazing quietly, and all Lily could hear was an occasional chomp as they chewed at tufts of grass. And then the heifer bellowed sharply.
Lily watched the muscles in Daniel’s forearms stand out as he hauled on the rope. She found herself holding her breath as she watched him strain, until at last the calf’s gangly legs emerged. And then its head.
The little wet calf had a dark-red face like its mother, but there was a white blaze on its forehead. It looked so sweet. And then it blinked. Goodness, it was still in the process of being born, and it had actually blinked its cute brown eyes. Unexpected emotion choked Lily.
‘That’s a good, brave girl.’ Daniel’s voice was deep and calm as he spoke to the heifer while he hauled again on the twine, and the calf’s shoulders inched forward. After several more firm tugs, the shoulders were cleared.
Again Lily held her breath, but it was only seconds later that the rest of the calf’s body slipped out, and an involuntary cheer burst from her. Daniel sent her a quick, relieved grin and she had to swipe at unexpected tears.
‘Oh, wow. Well done,’ she said between sniffles. She stared at the newborn form. It was lying very still. Actually, the calf’s eyes were closed now, and its chest wasn’t rising.
Oh, no. A few minutes ago it had blinked so sweetly. How awful if it hadn’t made it after all.
‘It’s not breathing,’ she whispered.
Without a word, Daniel knelt beside the inert body. He broke off a piece of dried grass and calmly tickled the calf’s nose with it. Lily couldn’t help thinking how nice his hands looked—workman’s hands, strong and callused, yet long-fingered and gentle. Hands that fostered life.
The calf gave a little snort and then another. Finally it lifted its head, and Lily gave a cry of delight. The new mother struggled to her feet and began to lick her offspring.
Still kneeling, Daniel looked up at Lily, his face alight, and she could see how very happy he was—almost as if he wasn’t used to having things go so well for him. A breeze played with his dark hair. Lily swiped at her eyes and laughed.
‘That was wonderful.’
She watched the skin around his blue eyes crease as he smiled at her, and he was still smiling as he rose lightly to his feet. Lily smiled back at him, and they stood there. They went on smiling foolishly at each other for a long, breathless stretch of time.
Daniel’s eyes actually shimmered, and Lily’s heart began to jump. She felt a thrilling, silent connection hum between them. Warmth. A special kind of happiness. And something far deeper.
But then he said, ‘We’d better get you on the road again.’
Welcome to Gidgee Springs.
One-hundred metres from the weathered sign, Daniel pulled to the side of the road and left the motor running. This was it. As far as he was prepared to go.
He didn’t look at Lily, but he was aware of her surprise that he had not taken her right into town. He could sense it in the way she stiffened and turned to him.
‘That’s Gidgee Springs,’ he said, nodding ahead towards the straggle of houses on the outskirts of the tiny Outback town.
‘So I see,’ she said, but she made no move to undo her seatbelt.
Daniel grimaced and drew a deep breath that emerged as a sigh. ‘I’d rather drop you off here than right in the centre of town.’
She didn’t answer, but when he glanced her way he could see her confusion.
‘Believe me, it’s better this way.’
She sat very still, staring at him, her lovely eyes puzzled. She opened her mouth to say something and then thought better of it.
Daniel swallowed, and ran a restless hand around the steering wheel.
Again Lily looked as if she was about to comment, but she paused, as if she was thinking carefully before she spoke. ‘You don’t want people to see me with you?’
Daniel covered his embarrassment with anger. ‘Look—I’ve done what you asked. It’s only a short walk to the garage and you can get your petrol.’
His bad manners ate at him, but they were necessary. No way was he going to explain to Lily exactly why he was being so unfriendly. He knew it would make perfect sense to her if he drove her all the way to Jim Blaine’s service station, waited while she got her petrol, and then drove her back out to her abandoned car. He had to go back that way anyway. He knew that. She knew that.
But what she didn’t know, what she couldn’t anticipate, was the way people would look at her if they saw her with him. He had no idea what had brought her to Gidgee Springs, but he was damned
