KATIE
God,my ass hurts.
There’s a huge bruise across my hip from where I hit the dirt coming off Aurora on Saturday, but it could have been a whole lot worse, so I’m not complaining. Much.
I adjust myself in Scout’s saddle but it doesn’t really help. It’s just going to hurt like a bitch for a while.
Despite the agony in my backside, every time I think about sitting on Aurora I grin. She’s making such great progress and has come such a long way from the terrified animal that arrived a few weeks ago.
I can’t wait to get back to working with her this afternoon, but first I have to check the cattle, then spend the day planting trees. Olivia is already stressing out about them dying before we get them in the ground, even though Dallas only picked them up on Saturday so we’re having a team effort today to get itdone.
When Scout reaches the top of the next hill I draw her to a halt and spend a moment just taking in the sight laid before me. From this spot I have the perfect view of the farm; from the main house, to Dallas’s cottage, the barn and woodshed, right around to the Wildflower Ridge Function Centre and further out, to where the creek this town is named after spills from the hills.
I can make out the farm ute from here, heading slowly along a farm track to where we’ll be planting soon. Once I’m done with the cattle I’ll head straight to where they are. The ute pulls into the paddock it’s heading for and I smile as I see Olivia and Flynn’s tiny figures climb out.
I haven’t seen Dallas this morning, but I expected him to be with them. I shrug, he obviously got busy doing something else and will head out when he can. I turn Scout to continue on our way.
I check on the cattle, making sure everyone’s happy and healthy, has access to water, and that the fences haven’t been breached.
By the time I’m done, the sun is starting to bear down, burning off the last of the morning chill. I strip off my heavy jacket and loop it around my waist. It’s going to be a stunning day.
I’m about to head for the planting spot when my phone rings. I wince at my bruises as I lean to be able to slide it free from my pocket.
Olivia.
“Hey,” I say. “What’s up?”
“When you’re done with the cattle, can you head to the pine tree paddock and check on Dallas?”
“Isn’t he with you?”
“Well, he should be,” she says and I notice the concern in her voice. “He went out to fix a water leak and was supposed to meet us back here. But he hasn’t shown up and it’s been ages since he left.” A cold feeling settles in my stomach. “He should have been back by now, and since you’re closest …”
“Of course. I’m heading that way now. I’ll update you.”
I turn Scout in the opposite direction, urging her into a canter as we follow the farm track through this paddock and over the hill to the pine tree paddock, creatively named for the single pine tree that stands on the top of the hill.
I peer down into the gully. If Dallas is fixing a water leak he’ll be near a water line, which run along the bottom of this paddock if I recall correctly.
I nudge Scout forward and lean back as she descends the steep hill. As we round the curve of the hillside I spot him. Well, his motorbike.
“Dallas!” I shout.
“Here,” he calls back immediately. There’s something wrong in his voice. He hasn’t just been delayed. I urge Scout faster and pull her to a stop when my eyes finally land on Dallas.
He’s on his knees behind the bike, his right hand wrapped firmly around his left forearm. But it’s not doing much to prevent the blood running down his arm.
I throw myself from Scout’s saddle and fall to the ground in front of Dallas.
“I can’t get my phone out of my pocket without the bleeding starting again,” he says through gritted teeth. His face is a little pale underneath his tan, the few freckles across his nose standing out a little more than usual.
“Wouldn’t have helped anyway,” I say. “There’s no service here.”
I take his wrist and gently unwrap his fingers. A jagged red line up the inside of his arm immediately wells with blood.
“Shit,” he murmurs. “I can’t get the bleeding to stop.”
I pull my shirt over my head without hesitation, but a moment before I go to press it to the wound, I pause.