The Wildwood Sisters (14 page)

‘You won't, you have my word.' Dylan started pacing the sidewalk, his elation making it impossible for him to stand still.

Stanley chuckled. ‘I'll hold you to that. And one more thing, Dylan.'

‘Yup, anything, Mr Wildwood.'

‘Will you stop calling me “Mr Wildwood”? Just Stan will do nicely. I don't like formalities, makes me uncomfortable.'

‘Okay then, Stan it is.'

‘Good, glad that's settled. See you bright and early tomorrow.'

‘You sure will, Mist— I mean, Stan.'

In a daze, Dylan shoved his phone back in his pocket and strolled off towards the fire station. He hoped Ralph was there—he couldn't wait to tell him he'd just scored a job. Best buddies since primary school, Ralph was like the brother he'd never had. He told him everything, and knew he could rely on him for anything, as Ralph could him.

Deciding to walk instead of driving the kilometre down the street, Dylan followed the footpath, the textbook northern winter's day perfect for a stroll. Passing the bank, he stopped off at the local bakery, famous for its floating pies—a meat pie sitting in a pool of rich gravy with mushy peas and mashed potato on top. Grabbing one for him and one for Ralph—he'd easily eat them both if Ralph weren't at the station—he turned to walk out of the store, bumping straight into his neighbour, Craig Campbell. As usual, Craig's police uniform was ironed to a crisp, his black boots devoid of any scuff marks. Even with his wife having left him almost two years ago, Craig still kept himself and his house as neat as a pin. His meticulousness amazed Dylan.

‘G'day, Craig.'

‘Howdy, Dylan, how's things?'

‘Yeah, not too bad. Any closer to figuring out who the bastard is that is letting all my cattle out?'

Craig shook his head. ‘Sorry to say, I'm not. I haven't got much evidence to go off really. But that's not to say I won't eventually find the mongrel, or mongrels, responsible.'

‘Well, keep me posted if anything pops up.'

Craig nodded. ‘Will do, mate.'

‘Thanks, appreciate it.' Dylan went to say goodbye but halted. ‘Hey, you'll never guess who I ran into yesterday.'

‘Do tell.'

‘Renee Wildwood.' Dylan's heart picked up pace with the mere mention of her name.

‘Shit hey, I thought she'd vanished with the wind and was never coming back.' The two-way attached to Craig's belt buzzed to life but he turned it down. ‘How'd she look?'

Dylan huffed. ‘Pretty damn good, actually.'

Craig chuckled. ‘Yeah, she was always a looker.'

The woman behind the counter looked to Craig for his order. He gave her a quick nod to acknowledge her then brought his gaze back to Dylan. ‘I better grab my lunch.'

‘Okay, catch ya.'

‘Yup, catch ya,' Craig said before turning his attention back to the girl at the counter.

Wandering into the fire station, Dylan heard his name being called. He looked left and right and up and down, but couldn't for the life of him work out where Ralph's voice was coming from. ‘Where in the bloody hell are ya?'

‘I'm down here, ya moron.' With a swoosh Ralph emerged on a mechanic's creeper from underneath the fire truck, his eyeballs glowing white and his face covered in black grime. He grinned cheekily, his teeth almost iridescent against his sooty black face.

Dylan shook his head at the state of his mate, laughing. ‘What have you been doing under there—trying out for land rights or something?'

‘I've been
trying
to fix a damn oil leak.'

Dylan pointed to Ralph's face. ‘Well, it kinda looks like you're not really succeeding with that, buddy.'

‘I know, I know, don't judge. I'm meant to know what I'm doing, seeing as I'm a heavy equipment operator and all, but this beast can be a complete bitch when it wants to be,' Ralph said with a grin as he unsuccessfully tried to wipe the blackness off with the rag in his hand. He stood up, pointing at the pies in Dylan's hands. ‘And it appears to me that you've brought sustenance. Good on ya! I'm Hank Marvin!'

Dylan waited for Ralph to stand up and then handed him the styrofoam container.

Ralph opened the lid, the gravy oozing out of the opening. He licked the tasty morsels from his fingers. ‘You're a legend, mate. I bloody love these things!'

Dylan chuckled. ‘Yeah, me too. I can't walk past the bakery without grabbing one.' He pulled one of the plastic forks from his jeans pocket and handed it to Ralph.

Ralph pointed to the smoko area in the corner, his shaggy blonde hair flopping around his head. ‘Wanna coffee or tea to go with it…or something stronger?'

Dylan chuckled. ‘It's too early in the day for something stronger. A coffee would be good, thanks.'

Ralph began to try and eat the pie without his fork by using his lips like a horse eating bread. ‘Sure thing, you party pooper.'

‘Yeah, whatever,' Dylan said lightheartedly.

Ralph pulled a seat from the smoko table and pushed it towards Dylan, before grabbing one for himself. ‘So anything exciting happening in your world? I hope so, because mine's been pretty fucking boring.'

‘Yup, I got me a job. Oh, and I ran into Renee Wildwood.' Dylan shoved a mouthful of pie in, groaning in pleasure with the taste of it while trying to act offhand about running into Renee.

Ralph's mouth dropped open. ‘Holy shit, times two! That's great you picked up some work so quickly—whereabouts? And how the fuck do you feel about running into Renee after all these years? I thought she'd disappeared forever.'

‘I've scored a job working with Stanley Wildwood over at Wildwood Acres, just a few days a week. Hence the reason I ran into Renee. To be honest, I don't know how I feel about running into her.'

‘Can't blame you really, after what she said about your dad. And then taking off like that, well, what can I say.' Ralph forked a mouthful of pie in, his eyebrows raised while he chewed. ‘How'd she look?'

‘Oh, trust you to ask something like that, Ralph,' Dylan said, laughing.

‘Well?' Ralph said, shoving another forkful in.

‘She looks—' Dylan smirked, ‘—bloody amazing.'

Ralph nodded. ‘I thought she would have, she was always a good sort. You reckon you'll both be able to let sleeping dogs lie, so you can at least be mates?'

Dylan chuckled cynically. ‘Dunno. Time will tell, I s'pose.'

‘It won't look good if you're arguing with the boss's daughter, so watch your step.'

‘I know, I know, I'll be civil at least.'

‘Good.' Ralph scraped the last of the tasty lunch from his container. ‘I'm glad you picked up some work, buddy. It might take the pressure off you a bit.'

Dylan fought the urge to lick his container clean, instead lobbing it towards the bin and cheering along with Ralph when he got it in. ‘It will certainly ease the pressure a bit, but I still need to try and tighten the belt a little on the farm. God knows where though.'

Ralph grinned and leant forward in his seat. ‘Well, I've been thinking about ways I could help you out, and you know what I reckon?'

Dylan licked the last of the gravy from his fingers. ‘We should rob a bank?'

Ralph swiped the air indifferently. ‘That was my idea last week.' He smiled wickedly. ‘This week I'm thinking we should build a dam on the border of your property, down on the lower part. You know, where there is a bit of a natural valley, so you can catch the water running off from Craig's property—which means free water and drastically lower water bills. One good storm and you'd fill the bugger. I don't reckon Craig would mind, seeing as it's not taking away from his water or costing him anything.'

Dylan grinned, nodding eagerly. ‘You're a fucking genius, Ralph. I can't believe I never thought of that myself.'

Ralph pretended to blow smoke from his fingers as he sat back all puffy-chested, his confident joviality and surfer dude looks a big part of what attracted women to him like bees to honey. ‘In tribute to my favourite movie of all time…I like to think of myself as a bit of an ideas man.'

Dylan laughed at the old line, the movie
The Castle
being his and Ralph's all-time favourite. ‘How big would we build it?'

‘I'm thinking about three to four metres deep and about thirty across, which means it would hold about thirty megs—roughly. We can't go any deeper than five metres because then you'd need permits and shit from the council, and it'll take forever to organise. But the size I'm suggesting should be plenty. It'll only take about three or four days in the dozer and the job will be done.'

Dylan thought for a few moments, rolling the idea around. A dam was a great idea, but he would have to find some money to do it, and he just didn't have the funds right now. There was no way in hell he was going to ask Ralph to do it for free. ‘How much will it cost to build it? I mean, I have to pay you for the time you spend in your dozer. Times are tough for everyone right now and I ain't going to accept handouts from my best mate.'

Ralph leant forward, smiling. ‘For you, my friend, nothing.'

‘No way, Ralph. You got to pay the bills too. It's gonna take almost a week to build the thing, which means you won't be making money somewhere else in the meantime.'

‘Dylan, I'm not taking no for an answer. You've done loads of favours for me in the past, including breaking in a few of my horses for free—which wasn't an easy task with the latest temperamental bugger—so let me do this for you, please.'

Dylan drummed his fingers on the smoko table, thinking. ‘Are you sure, mate?'

‘Positive. When I've got a couple of days to spare I'll be out at your place with bells on. I've got a full week next week so I'm guessing I can make a start on it the week after that.'

Dylan reached out and squeezed Ralph's shoulder. ‘Thanks, mate, I really appreciate it. I'll owe ya big time for this.'

‘Oh no you won't. Just have a few cold ones on hand at the end of each day and we'll call it square. Deal?' Ralph held out his hand.

Dylan shook it, beaming. ‘It's a deal.'

It had been a few days since she'd first run into Dylan, and it still hadn't got any easier—they hadn't even spoken a word, just nodding or waving a quick hello if they crossed paths on the property. She was sure he was just being nice to her to put on a show for her pa. Oh well—she'd play along with it to keep the peace. Pa didn't need any more drama in his life, especially because of her fuck-ups.

Shaking her head at the memory of Dylan spotting her at her worst while sitting out on the front verandah this morning—in her faithful pink-and-purple polka-dot flannelette pyjamas
and
with bed hair from hell—Renee popped the lid on the slow cooker. She was mighty proud of her effort at concocting a hearty stew out of what was left in the fridge, which wasn't much—she really needed to do some food shopping tomorrow. The smells wafting from the comfort food were making her mouth water. Satisfied she had dinner under control, she padded into her bedroom to get changed, her thoughts seized by Dylan's ruggedly handsome face. By God he looked good in a pair of jeans. And those manly hands…

Watching him stroking his horse so fondly as he'd saddled him up this morning, she had imagined him instead stroking her naked skin. He didn't know that after absconding to the house she had watched him from behind the curtains in the lounge room, each and every move he made making her want to caress his lips with hers. She completely respected the fact that he was married, and she would never even consider going near a married man—and not that he'd want her within ten feet anyway given how he'd reacted to running into her last week—but it was okay to dream. Nonetheless, she had to find a way to rid herself of the feelings she harboured for him, and the only way she saw that happening was to allow herself to fall for someone else.

How the hell she was going to do that she hadn't a clue, but she at least had to open herself up to the idea. She knew deep down that she had unconsciously stopped herself from falling for another man these past nine years, in the hope that she and Dylan would someday get back together. But now she knew he was spoken for, and that he felt nothing for her other than resentment, she had to finally let him go. It broke her heart to do so, but she just had to.

Grabbing her togs from the bottom drawer, Renee shoved them into her already jammed-full backpack. She was basically going to have to sit on it to do it up—a bit like her suitcase when she'd left Melbourne. Her pa had always taught her that when she was going out adventuring around Wildwood Acres, she should be prepared for anything, and with everything from her fully charged mobile phone, insect repellent, a torch, a bandage if she got bitten by a snake—yes she was being overcautious—warm clothes if the weather took a turn for the worst, to enough snacks and water to keep two people alive for days in the bush, that's exactly what she was doing. A bit of overkill, but it was better to be safe than sorry. She'd told Pa she was going to have a look around the place today, choosing to leave out the fact she was venturing as far as the Opals Ridge National Park. She didn't want to worry him, and if he knew she was going as far as that he'd be worried sick. From her calculations of how long it would take, she expected to be home well before dark anyway, and certainly before her pa. So, like the saying went, what he didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

After the backbreaking work of treating the cattle for paralysis ticks and then spending the last few days fixing the fencing around the horse paddocks on her own—Pa had been busy doing other jobs with Dylan—she was secretly relieved to have time off. Although she'd been careful to cover up and use sunscreen, she was still a little sunburnt, her entire body ached, and her hands were covered in blisters, much to her mortification. She used to be much more resilient when it came to hard work—when she was a teenager being out for days on end in the saddle was a breeze. Now, after years of working her city job, it was clearly going to take her a little while to get used to the strenuous physical work required at Wildwood Acres again. Murphy's Law—she'd probably just get used to it and then return home to Melbourne the next day. Not that Pa was going to need her too often now he had Dylan, it was more the fact that she
wanted
to help when she could. Farm work was damn tough, and she had to toughen up to handle it, but she loved it, and that was the most important thing. She adored getting outside and being at one with Mother Nature. And she wanted to use the time she had here to get outside as often as possible so she could return to her job as a realtor in Melbourne refreshed and renewed.