delivery.
She and the boys would open the top half of the split chook-pen gate, throw in the garden weeds and any kitchen food scraps. They’d then leave filling the feeder with layer-mash and the collecting of the usual six eggs to Ewan. Lancelot, the rooster, considered the chook pen his personal kingdom and Ewan was the only person he didn’t attack. Concerned for the boys, Ewan threatened to replace Lancelot with a placid rooster, but for some reason Braye was attached to the strutting red and black cockerel. Hearing Lancelot crow in the morning always made him happy.
As Tish neared the homestead, Darby ran out into the garden with the kitchen phone, but it was Braye who spoke. ‘There’s some lady wanting you or Uncle Ewy. She sounds really weird.’
Tish took the handset, held it to her ear and walked closer to the house to ensure she received good reception. ‘Tish Mackenzie speaking.’
‘Hi, Tish, sorry to bother you and Ewan again,’ Kree’s American accent sounded, ‘but I’m afraid I’ve more water problems … and this time inside the house.’
C HAPTER S IX
What wouldn’t she give for a shower?
Kree poured the bore water she’d heated in the electric kettle into the sink. She plunged her hands into the soapy liquid and washed the milky bottle and teat she’d just used to feed Fudge. Getting her hands wet would have to do. The farmhouse had no internal water.
Kree had thought taking photos and walking to check on the lambing ewes might kick-start her creative thinking. She needed to find a way to thank the Glenalla community for saving Seth. Cooking Travis and Ewan a special dinner was a start, but she also needed a plan that would benefit the entire town. But her afternoon stroll hadn’t encouraged her muse, just left her feeling over-cooked.
Kree set the bottle to drain on the sink rack and pulled the plug. As the water gurgled down the drain in the opposite direction to what she was used to, she twined her hair into a knot on the top of her head.
Tish said Ewan was coming in from the shed and would head straight over. Thank goodness his property adjoined theTylers’, and he’d be here soon. He’d be able to work his pump magic and she could have that long-overdue cold shower. She glanced at her bare legs. And also do the washing she’d been putting off. All she had left to wear were a pair of jeans – now cut-offs thanks to her episode of climbing over the fence yesterday to rescue Freckle – and a snug, hot-pink tee. The cotton must have shrunk in the Aussie sun, either that or the lamingtons she’d developed a taste for were adding curves in all the wrong places.
Kree turned to the plastic bowl filled with cold bore water on the bench and scooped water over her cheeks. She blinked at the chill. Ewan had to be able to fix the pump, and if not, worst-case scenario she could shower and sleep in town. She could make the forty-five minute drive to Berridale before Fudge needed her morning bottle. Sure, the little goat and puppy might not like being on their own at night, but the alternative was to intrude into Ewan’s personal life and that wasn’t happening. She knew him well enough to know he’d offer to have her stay. But she couldn’t accept.
Ewan wasn’t only married. He had kids.
Kree grabbed the clean tea towel she’d pulled from the kitchen drawer and patted her face dry. When the tiny voice had whispered ‘hello’ into the phone, shock had held her silent. Then a second louder, more boisterous, voice had sounded. She hadn’t considered the possibility he’d be a father. The gentleness and respect with which he treated Whiskey had warmed her heart. She could only imagine how involved and hands-on he’d be as a dad. Tish really was a lucky woman.
The excited clack of Fudge’s hooves and clip of Freckle’s toenails sounded on the verandah floorboards as they racedaround to the driveway. Kree draped the tea towel on a cupboard handle. Ewan had arrived.
She
She and the boys would open the top half of the split chook-pen gate, throw in the garden weeds and any kitchen food scraps. They’d then leave filling the feeder with layer-mash and the collecting of the usual six eggs to Ewan. Lancelot, the rooster, considered the chook pen his personal kingdom and Ewan was the only person he didn’t attack. Concerned for the boys, Ewan threatened to replace Lancelot with a placid rooster, but for some reason Braye was attached to the strutting red and black cockerel. Hearing Lancelot crow in the morning always made him happy.
As Tish neared the homestead, Darby ran out into the garden with the kitchen phone, but it was Braye who spoke. ‘There’s some lady wanting you or Uncle Ewy. She sounds really weird.’
Tish took the handset, held it to her ear and walked closer to the house to ensure she received good reception. ‘Tish Mackenzie speaking.’
‘Hi, Tish, sorry to bother you and Ewan again,’ Kree’s American accent sounded, ‘but I’m afraid I’ve more water problems … and this time inside the house.’
C HAPTER S IX
What wouldn’t she give for a shower?
Kree poured the bore water she’d heated in the electric kettle into the sink. She plunged her hands into the soapy liquid and washed the milky bottle and teat she’d just used to feed Fudge. Getting her hands wet would have to do. The farmhouse had no internal water.
Kree had thought taking photos and walking to check on the lambing ewes might kick-start her creative thinking. She needed to find a way to thank the Glenalla community for saving Seth. Cooking Travis and Ewan a special dinner was a start, but she also needed a plan that would benefit the entire town. But her afternoon stroll hadn’t encouraged her muse, just left her feeling over-cooked.
Kree set the bottle to drain on the sink rack and pulled the plug. As the water gurgled down the drain in the opposite direction to what she was used to, she twined her hair into a knot on the top of her head.
Tish said Ewan was coming in from the shed and would head straight over. Thank goodness his property adjoined theTylers’, and he’d be here soon. He’d be able to work his pump magic and she could have that long-overdue cold shower. She glanced at her bare legs. And also do the washing she’d been putting off. All she had left to wear were a pair of jeans – now cut-offs thanks to her episode of climbing over the fence yesterday to rescue Freckle – and a snug, hot-pink tee. The cotton must have shrunk in the Aussie sun, either that or the lamingtons she’d developed a taste for were adding curves in all the wrong places.
Kree turned to the plastic bowl filled with cold bore water on the bench and scooped water over her cheeks. She blinked at the chill. Ewan had to be able to fix the pump, and if not, worst-case scenario she could shower and sleep in town. She could make the forty-five minute drive to Berridale before Fudge needed her morning bottle. Sure, the little goat and puppy might not like being on their own at night, but the alternative was to intrude into Ewan’s personal life and that wasn’t happening. She knew him well enough to know he’d offer to have her stay. But she couldn’t accept.
Ewan wasn’t only married. He had kids.
Kree grabbed the clean tea towel she’d pulled from the kitchen drawer and patted her face dry. When the tiny voice had whispered ‘hello’ into the phone, shock had held her silent. Then a second louder, more boisterous, voice had sounded. She hadn’t considered the possibility he’d be a father. The gentleness and respect with which he treated Whiskey had warmed her heart. She could only imagine how involved and hands-on he’d be as a dad. Tish really was a lucky woman.
The excited clack of Fudge’s hooves and clip of Freckle’s toenails sounded on the verandah floorboards as they racedaround to the driveway. Kree draped the tea towel on a cupboard handle. Ewan had arrived.
She
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