The Wildwood Sisters (11 page)

So there you go. The doc was booked out for weeks. So he wasn't the only one in Opals Ridge needing help. It made him feel better about going. ‘Yup, I'll take it for now, but can I get back to you later if I need to change it? I'm not sure if I'm working tomorrow.'

‘That should be okay, as long as you let me know by mid-afternoon today.'

‘Oh, yup, no problems. Will do.' Dylan's right leg was bouncing like the clappers. He placed his hand on it to stop it.
Bloody nerves.

‘Okey-dokey then, what's your name so I can book you in?' she sang down the phone.

He wanted some of what she was on. ‘Dylan Anderson.' He waited for her to say something like,
Oh my goodness, you need to see a shrink
,
really? I never would have guessed.

But she didn't. She just very professionally booked him in without even a mention of knowing him from the pub.

‘Okay then, Dylan, all booked in. We'll see you tomorrow if I don't hear back from you this afternoon.'

‘Great, thanks, see you then.' Dylan was relieved to hang up and he took a few deep breaths. He'd finally done it.

Staring out his office window to the paddock Rascal called home, he grinned. The gelding had his head up in the air, lips back and teeth bared while snapping at the flies. Rascal certainly was a character and a half. Over the past two months he'd really bonded with the horse, as had Annie, and he was glad he'd followed his gut instincts and brought the horse home. It hadn't taken long for Rascal to trust him, and all the hard work he'd put into him had certainly paid off. He'd deliberately put him in the closest paddock to the cottage as a pal for his stockhorse, Turbo, and also so Annie could hang out with her new buddy whenever she liked, which was quite often. Not long now and she'd be able to ride him in the round yard, under strict supervision of course. Sculling the last of his coffee, he stood and pulled on his wide-brimmed hat. One huge accomplishment down and one to go. Time to hit the road and get himself that job at Wildwood Acres.

***

Rinsing the last of the cutlery in the sink and then popping it into the dishwasher, Renee took off her flour-covered apron while bopping along to the Brad Paisley song playing loudly on the local radio station. It was a rare treat to turn the wireless on and have country music playing. Staring out at the spectacular pastoral views from the kitchen bay window, she sang the words out loud and
way
out of tune, but she didn't care. Nobody could hear her here.

For the first time in as long as she could remember, she felt free of worries, as though she was somehow lighter just by being back at Wildwood Acres. Something magical in the country air was cleansing her from the inside out, making her feel more invigorated and alive than she had in years. And she loved it. Immensely. It was the complete opposite of what she thought she'd feel, her panic attacks and nightmares not rearing their ugly heads at all.

Packing her nan's legendary homemade strawberry-and-rhubarb jam and a container of freshly whipped cream alongside the flask of tea and pannikins, Renee then wrapped some of her freshly made date-and-walnut scones into a clean tea towel. She made sure to keep two of the delicious golden mounds aside for Nan, wanting to take some homemade treats to her at the hospital this afternoon. The AGA stove had worked a treat, the scones the best she'd ever made. Even the demerara sugar she'd sprinkled on top had gone nice and golden.

She'd made sure to save some for Mick, too—the poor bugger was going stir-crazy being confined to his lounge chair. When she'd walked in yesterday he was entertaining himself by whacking flies with his fly swat then writing down his tally as he successfully belted them—he'd been up to twenty-eight, and still counting. At least her scones might cheer him up a bit, along with the stack of old western movies she'd found in the TV cabinet. She'd drop the care package over to him later this arvo, before heading into the hospital with Pa to see her nan.

A lamb-and-pumpkin stew she'd prepared after an early brekkie this morning simmered away slowly on the stovetop, the yummy aromas wafting from the cast-iron pot making her mouth water. The pumpkin was her little trick for thickening the stew without the need for cornflour—and it made it so much more delicious too. She would pop it in the heart of the oven before she left for smoko. Her pa was going to be mighty proud of her.

She'd only been here three days, and she was already settling back into country life—albeit at times a little reluctantly. Although there were countless things to love about Wildwood Acres, there were also many things she missed about her life back in the city—Tia for one, and especially the fact that she lived on her own and could wander around in her knickers and not have to shut the door when she went to the loo. And she missed Kat too, big time. But, in the scheme of things she could live with this for a few months, because after years of fearing returning home, it was a weight off her shoulders to feel so relaxed and at peace here.

When she went into town for the first time it might be a different story. The thought of Scarlet's killer possibly wandering past her in the street was more than a little daunting, especially given the fact that he—or she—had wanted her dead too. Pa had suggested not venturing into town on her own for now, just until she felt comfortable, and most certainly to curb his own worries too—not that he'd admit that. She thought it to be a good suggestion.

Her basket of goodies now packed, Renee headed out of the kitchen, stopping momentarily to look at herself in the full-length mirror near the front door. After returning from the hospital last night, Pa had recovered a few boxes of her old clothes and things from the loft, and it had been like Christmas sorting through it all. She'd even found an old bottle of her favourite perfume, J'adore Dior, still in its box. It had been a welcome surprise as in her haste to pack, she'd forgotten to bring any perfume along with her from Melbourne.

It was disappointing that Nan's doctor wanted to keep her in for another week or so, just to monitor her, but at least she was where she needed to be if she took another turn for the worse. He'd explained that her heart was still being a little erratic, so it was for the best she stayed in a bit longer. Renee was looking forward to getting her home, but until then, she was happy to be out helping her pa around the station.

Today was her first full day of work, and she couldn't wait to get her butt in the saddle for a while as they checked the fences, and then get her hands dirty helping with treating the cattle for ticks. She felt blessed to be stepping through the front door and into her ‘office' for the day, unlike the urban dwellers who had to drive for hours in peak hour traffic, or jam themselves into public transport like sardines just to get to work. Although it had plenty of perks, urban living could be tough to manage day in day out. And even though being in the country had its challenges, it came with so many blessings too.

Turning to the side, she smiled while trying to suck in her very slight podge around the waist. She couldn't believe her old Wrangler jeans still fit after all these years, and her timeworn Bonds singlets were a little tighter around her boobs than she'd like, but they fit all the same. Tugging on her button-up long-sleeved shirt, she did it halfway up—covering up as much as possible when working out in the harshness of the North Queensland sun was imperative.

It felt wonderful to be heading out the door make-up free, with her long hair pulled into a ponytail and wearing boots instead of a suit and heels. She'd always felt a little fake when dressed up to the nines in Melbourne. She'd certainly enjoyed the buzz of wearing high-end suits and Gucci heels, but this, right here, the reflection staring back at her, was the real Renee Wildwood. If only her sister was alive, she'd look exactly like she did now; at least through her own appearance she could imagine what Scarlet would have looked like as she'd aged.

‘I miss you so much, Scarlet,' she whispered as she brushed her long fringe from wet eyes.

A strange sensation pulled her focus from the mirror, as though someone was secretly watching her. The hair on the back of her neck stood up and she spun around, her heart thudding and her breath held. ‘Hello? Pa? Mick?' Her voice was merely a squeak. ‘Henry?'

There was no reply, not that she should really expect one from a dog—Henry being her pa's faithful pooch. And then there it was again. Frankincense. The big difference was, this time Renee knew she wasn't imagining it. It was pungent, the aroma lingering in the air so strongly she felt as though she could reach out and touch it. Gradually placing the basket down on the floor, she reached out while slowly turning around in circles, trying to feel something, anything. ‘Scarlet? Please, if you're here, do something to make me believe. I'm begging you.'

She stopped, frozen to the spot, eyes wide, heart galloping, waiting, hoping and praying, all her senses on high alert. But nothing happened. And then, as quickly as the scent had arrived, it was gone. Her mind spinning like a whirlwind and her legs as wobbly as jelly, Renee eased herself back against the wall and slid down to the floor.

Was it true? Was Scarlet trying to reach out to her from the other side? Was her spirit still roaming the homestead, stuck between this life and the next until somebody discovered her body and she could finally be laid to rest? The very thought horrified her. Renee had never believed in ghosts, but now, with one simple scent, she was second-guessing her strong beliefs. Not that she would be openly admitting that any time soon. If she told anyone about this—even her nan and pa—they'd think she'd lost her bloody marbles.

As her breathing returned to normal, she took stock of the situation. She had to try and stay calm, as much as part of her wanted to run from the house, screaming like a mad woman. But freaking out was not going to achieve anything. Something beyond this world was beseeching her to unravel the secrets of Scarlet's disappearance, but where was she meant to start? It was like someone throwing a coin into the ocean, and then asking her to find it. Nine years was a long time after the event.

Whatever else, she was looking forward to getting out amongst the beauty of Wildwood Acres, revisiting places she and Scarlet used to hang out all the time: the caves, the secret place they used to go skinny-dipping, and the old hunter's shack where they'd shared so many happy memories with their friends—and snuck their boyfriends too. But that would have to wait, because today Pa needed her to help with a few jobs around the place and she was really looking forward to getting her hands dirty.

When the majestic old grandfather clock in the hallway loudly announced it was ten am, Renee snapped back to the present moment and jumped up from the floor. She was supposed to be meeting Pa for smoko and he'd be wondering where she'd got to. Where had the time gone? Her planned leisurely twenty-minute ride would now be more of a wild gallop. Thank goodness she'd kept her horseriding abilities alive by going for regular trail rides out on the Mornington Peninsula with Tia, otherwise she might have been struggling to keep her butt in the saddle. Her old horse Jackson had always been a goer when asked to give it all he had.

Grabbing her nan's wide-brimmed hat from the hook near the door, Renee pulled it on, picked up the basket and then hurriedly made her way down the steps, across the front lawn and towards the stables, where Jackson was already saddled up and waiting. He'd seemed as keen as her to go out for a ride this morning, the bugger almost unable to stand still while she was trying to saddle him up earlier. She'd had to lunge him for twenty minutes just so she could get his girth strap tight enough so the saddle didn't slip sideways.

Just as she went to step through the stable doors, the sight of a modern trayback Land Cruiser coming up the long dirt driveway made her stop and curse under her breath. It wasn't like the city out here, where she could say a quick hello and get back to what she was doing. Here, people liked a casual chat, and normally weren't in a major rush to get where they were going. Now she was going to be stuck talking to whoever this was for God knows how long—she didn't want to seem rude by rushing off.

She wished her pa carried a mobile phone so she could call him and tell him she was on her way, but the old-fashioned codger didn't believe in them. In fact, he didn't believe in modern-day technology whatsoever, reckoning it poisoned people's minds and made them lazy. She'd had a hard enough time trying to talk him into upgrading his video player to a DVD player a few years back, Pa refusing to believe that videos were going to eventually be obsolete. The first time he and Nan had watched a DVD, he'd rung and asked her how he was meant to rewind it. The recollection still cracked her up.

Smiling the biggest smile she could muster, she gave the Land Cruiser driver a wave to catch their attention before they drove off towards the now unoccupied homestead. They instantly spotted her, giving her a wave out the window to let her know, and then slowly drove towards her. Because of the glare bouncing off the windscreen, she was struggling to make out the driver, but something about his chiselled features was familiar. Then, as he got closer, their eyes met and it all came flooding back. And for the second time that morning, her legs threatened to give way.

Trying to make out the silhouette up ahead, Dylan squinted into the morning sunshine, his Ray-Ban sunglasses not doing much to shield his eyes from the glare bouncing off the windscreen. From the curves he could tell it was a woman, but he couldn't make out her face. It couldn't be Pearl, as Rex had told him yesterday she was still in hospital. Whoever it was, her clothing made it pretty obvious she was off to work for the day, though he didn't think old-fashioned Stanley Wildwood would be one to hire a woman. Maybe the old bloke had got desperate. Had this woman already beaten him to the job? Damn it! Like a sinking ship, his positive vibe nose-dived.