Page 10 of The Science of Attraction

She cut a quick look to her husband who appeared equally surprised. It would be his first foray on his walker in front of the other shepherds—he always made sure he was seated in the kitchen at lunch before anyone arrived. But Jules had told me the woolshed was Paddy’s favourite place on the whole station, and I was banking on a visit to give him the motivation he needed to keep pushing.

“I’ve been hankering to take a look at all those shearers I’ve heard so much about.” I waggled my brows and Norma snorted while Paddy grunted something that sounded like a resigned, “For fuck’s sake.”

I grinned. Lightening the topic was a first move.

“Your car is still at the mechanics, right?” Norma checked.

I nodded. “They had to order a few parts. Could be a week or so.”

“Then you can use mine,” she offered. “Paddy slides in and out of that easier than the ute.” And with that, she left with a kiss to her husband’s cheek and a wink directed at me.

* * *

The warm, sunny day was the first real break in a week of grey rain, and the valley was finally starting to come alive with the promise of spring. The smell of damp grass rising off the tussock that had crowded my senses during those early days was slowly evaporating, giving way to a crisp mineral scent that seemed to hang in the air between the snow-tipped ranges like a sheet of frosty glass.

I parked Norma’s Toyota alongside the newly built ramp I’d asked Jules to organise earlier in the week. “You ready?” I looked sideways at Paddy and he nodded. “Okay then. Let’s do this.”

I opened the door and that clean fresh bite of air I’d been enjoying was immediately drowned by the warm, cloying odour of sheep manure, lanolin, and damp wool. I pulled a face while beside me in the passenger seat, Paddy sniffed the air and sighed with what sounded like utter contentment.

The ramp followed the outside wall of the new woolshed extension and up to the door closest to the shearing board—the space where the shearers actually sheared the sheep, according to Jules. The construction was a hot topic of debate between him and his father, but I knew Paddy regarded it as his pride and joy.

I circled the car and opened Paddy’s door. Loud strains of “Wonderwall” by Oasis floated over what was surely thousands of merinos milling in the yards waiting their turn on the board.

Paddy’s mouth turned down in disapproval.

I elbowed him gently. “If it helps them work faster, that’s good, right?”

His frown deepened.

I smiled to myself, grabbed the quad cane from the back seat, and set it beside him. We’d been working on moving from the bulky walking frame to the four-legged cane, but Paddy’s right leg wasn’t always cooperative. I’d suggested bringing the frame for the day’s excursion, but Paddy had insisted on trying the cane. I understood. He wanted to look his best in front of his men, but even with my help, it was going to be a big ask.

Paddy’s border collie Chip leaped out of the back seat and hared straight up the ramp to the woolshed door. The devoted dog rarely left Paddy’s side. I’d almost fallen off my seat the first time I’d heard Paddy’s patient, gentle tone with the collie. It was in stark contrast to what most everybody else on the planet had to endure. Go figure.

I helped him turn in his seat and position his feet on the ground, but Paddy was still grumbling about the music. “Shhheep... don’t... like din.”

I looked across to the pens where the merinos were standing quietly and said, “They don’t look too upset to me.”

Paddy followed my gaze and grunted, “Townie.” Which said everything there was to know about what he thought of my opinion.

“Maybe,” I ceded. “Then again, maybe it’s justyouwho doesn’t like it.”

His mouth quirked up at the corners so briefly I almost missed it before that familiar scowl returned along with that characteristic grunt of dismissal.

I tapped him on the shoulder and waited until he looked up and met my gaze. “Considering it’s your first time back in the shed and how hard everyone has worked while you’ve been away, maybe just this once you could think about shelving any negative commentary. There’ll be plenty of time for that when you’re back doing more about the place.”

The furrows on his brow tunnelled deeper. “Don’t need... you... t-telliiing me noth’n.” The tone was his usual piss and vinegar but there was something about the way he was staring half-disgusted, half-fearful at the ramp up to the shed that struck a chord.

I leaned against the railing and studied him. “You don’t believe you’ll get back in there working again, do you?”

Before Paddy could answer, Tennyson strode out of the woolshed, jumped down into a pen, and ushered another group of merinos up the ramp. When he caught sight of Paddy sitting in the car, he did a double-take and a smile lit up his face. He gave a quick wave and then disappeared inside once again.

I could see Paddy’s mind working, already deciding that he would never again bethatguy. And the truth was, there was a good chance he wouldn’t, at least not in the exact same way.

“From listening to you lot talk at lunch over the last week, I take it there are a ton of roles during shearing.”

Paddy nodded without looking up.

I gently clasped his shoulder. “Baby steps, Paddy. Just because you won’t be leaping fences in a single bound doesn’t mean you won’t have an important place and role. This is your land, your station. You’ll find a way, a place. Jules says you’re a wool classer amongst other things, right?”

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