The Rivertown Vet E-Book

Jennifer Scoullar

• Herausgeber: Pilyara Press
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Serie: The Wild Australia Stories
• Sprache: Englisch

Seitenzahl: 475

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2024

Beschreibung

A slow-burn, enemies-to-lovers romance, by a favourite Australian author.
Local vet Jana Malinski runs a wombat sanctuary with her sister on their family’s serene property by the Murray River. But Jana’s routine is up-ended after a chance encounter with handsome accountant and single dad Mark – the man who broke her heart in high school.
Offered the opportunity to run Wildfell Park, the town zoo that has fallen into disrepair, Jana must push past her hostility to save the local landmark and home to countless native and exotic animals. But working alongside Mark every day isn’t easy, especially given the undeniable attraction between them. While she fights her feelings, a new danger emerges – one that could threaten the very existence of Wildfell Park and Jana’s dreams of an ideal future.
Set in the gorgeous river country of South Australia The Rivertown Vet is a heartfelt and charming tale about community, conservation and kindness.

Leseprobe

THE RIVERTOWN VET

JENNIFER SCOULLAR

ALSO BY JENNIFER SCOULLAR

THE WILD AUSTRALIA STORIES

Brumby’s Run

Currawong Creek

Billabong Bend

Turtle Reef

Journey’s End

Wasp Season

The Mallee Girl

Paradise Valley

THE TASMANIAN TALES

Fortune’s Son

The Lost Valley

The Memory Tree

To Aussie Ark – creating a long-term future for Australia’s threatened wildlife.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

Chapter 44

Chapter 45

Chapter 46

Chapter 47

Chapter 48

Chapter 49

Acknowledgements

About the Author

CHAPTER1

Jana stood beneath a lonely, old swamp paperbark. It had somehow escaped the axe when this land had been cleared for pasture one hundred and fifty years ago. She loved melaleucas, and this was a particularly fine specimen. Its trunk textured and weathered, its bark like the faded pages of an ancient book. Each layer peeling away to reveal a palette of soft ochres, burnished browns and whispers of pale gold. Its slender leaves fluttered in the slight breeze, reflecting the cold mid-winter sun with a luminous shine.

She gazed across the grassy clearing, then glanced up at the threatening sky. Dark clouds were rolling in from the west. A storm was on its way. In the distance, a row of red gums marked the course of the Murray River. How she’d love to head over there to look for platypuses in her favourite billabong, but no, not today. She had more pressing matters: taking grass samples and retrieving Wall-E one last time. Jana was part of a statewide research team studying the southern hairy-nosed wombat. She and her sister also ran a sanctuary for orphaned and injured wildlife. These chunky characters were the marsupial equivalent of excavators. Known as ‘bulldozers of the bush’, they were South Australia’s faunal emblem. With their charming faces, large noses and small bright eyes, she considered these wombats to be Australia’s most beautiful and charismatic creatures.

Jana loved their quirky personalities, their determination and their affectionate nature. She loved their work ethic and stubborn dedication to earthmoving, thus improving soil health by bringing nutrients to the surface and burying organic matter. The ground ahead was dotted with dozens of mounds and burrows, all connected by a complex tunnel system. These passageways had multiple entrances and extended nearly ninety metres underground.

Jana should know. She’d spent the past fortnight exploring the twists and turns of this particular warren with a Wombot – one of the state-of-the-art exploratory robots developed by the University of Tasmania to study conditions within burrows. It was down a warren right now, equipped with sensors and cameras.

Jana checked the video feed being sent back by the Wombot and adjusted its course. She’d nicknamed it Wall-E and had grown quite fond of the intrepid little robot. Unfortunately, it was only on loan, and she had to send it back to the university tomorrow. She’d be sad to see it go.

Wall-E reminded her of a scaled down Mars rover, remote-controlled and able to traverse rough, inaccessible terrain while sending back a live video feed to the accompanying tablet screen in Jana’s hands. She marvelled at the intricate tangle of passages and the unexpected residents that Wall-E’s camera had revealed. She now had proof that tawny dragons, echidnas and snakes often shared the wombat tunnels. Even a burrowing bettong or two. That had made her laugh. Lazy little buggers – couldn’t they dig their own homes? But Jana had been heartened that such a rare species had been found here at Odessa, the farm that had been in their family for three generations.

She frowned as two rabbits appeared on the video feed. Of all the threats her precious wombats faced, competition from feral herbivores was near the top of the list, along with mange and introduced weeds invading their grasslands. Potato weed and onion grass were taking over large swathes of the Murraylands, crowding out the native grasses. Their toxins poisoned the wombats’ livers, killing many and leaving others sick and emaciated.

For the past few years, Jana and her younger sister, Sash, had worked hard to eradicate rabbits, wild goats and weeds from their land. They’d replanted hectares of degraded pasture with native Mitchell and spear grasses. Thanks to their efforts, the wombat population at Odessa was recovering. And thanks to Wall-E, Jana now had a working map of this sprawling warren, together with humidity and temperature readings. Understanding the secret life of wombats would make it much easier to protect them. For example, knowing the relative humidity inside burrows could help in controlling the parasitic sarcoptic mange mites that caused crusty, bloody skin lesions and even blindness. And access to birth dens could cast new light on the rare marsupial’s reproductive biology.

Jana checked her phone. Two o’clock. Reluctantly, she switched to the Wombot’s rear-facing camera. She was due for her shift at the Rivertown Vet Clinic at three and had already been late twice in the last week. If Oliver docked her wage again, paying this month’s feed bill for the animals would be a problem.

Wall-E reversed and began trundling back through the maze of branching tunnels. But when it was a few metres from the surface, it stopped – caught on a tree root.

‘Come on,’ urged Jana, jiggling the remote. But Wall-E merely spun on its tracks. The robot was well and truly stuck.

After a few minutes of useless manoeuvring, Jana checked her phone again. It really was time to leave. The clinic was almost an hour’s drive away. She pulled impatiently on the ethernet cable connecting Wall-E to the ground station at her feet. Yes – the robot moved a few inches. Encouraged by this progress, she tugged the cable again, harder this time.

Suddenly the cord came free in her hand and Jana lost the video feed. Shit. She’d yanked the cable clear out of the unit, losing all connection with Wall-E. Now the Wombot was not only stranded underground, but it was broken as well.

Jana kicked at the wombat hole that yawned before her. The little robot was only a few metres underground, tantalisingly close. Maybe if she lay down, she’d be able to reach it. Jana dug around in the pack for her head torch, tied back her dark hair, knelt on the ground and shone her torch into the hole. No sign of Wall-E. She got down on her stomach and wiggled into the entrance. What was that? Something glinted in the torchlight. She wriggled in a bit further. It was Wall-E all right, out of reach by less than a metre.

Jana gritted her teeth and crawled in as far as she could, arms extended like those of a diver to make her shape as streamlined as possible. It was a tight squeeze, but soon her groping hand almost had a grip on the little robot. One last squirm, a mouthful of dirt and – success! Her fingers closed on Wall-E. She jiggled it free of the root and let out her breath. Thank goodness. Hopefully Sash, who was a tech whizz, would be able to reattach the ethernet cable tonight.

Now, time to get out of here quick smart and hightail it into Rivertown. She might make her shift after all. But when she tried to back out of the tunnel, she found herself wedged fast. With her arms outstretched as they were, she couldn’t use her elbows to push herself backwards. And her knees were jammed fast against the floor of the burrow. No matter how much she wriggled and squirmed, she couldn’t move an inch.

After what seemed like hours of futile attempts to free herself, Jana was spent. She lay exhausted, sniffing back tears and spitting dust.

At least her head torch lit up the narrow tunnel ahead. Without its light she’d be suffering a serious case of claustrophobia. Jana could feel her heart racing and soil sticking to her sweaty palms.

Her phone rang in her pocket – probably Oliver ready to berate her for being late. Amazed that it still had reception, she instinctively tried to answer it, then swore as it rang out. How long would it be until someone came looking for her? Jana had no way to call for help, but eventually her sister would wonder where she was. Eventually. Sash had the day off from working at the produce store, which meant she was home, but Jana had left her tinkering in the shed that morning – she was trying to build a solar-powered automatic opener for their front gate. Once Sash got stuck into one of her projects, she could barely drag herself away. It could be five o’clock before she noticed that Jana wasn’t back to help feed the orphans.

A rumble of thunder sounded, and a cold, wet feeling began creeping up her jeans from the direction of her feet. Jana groaned. The forecast had been for a substantial downpour, and wombat burrows could flood or even cave in if it rained hard enough. At best, Jana faced a miserable few hours trapped down this damp hole. At worst . . . Well, she didn’t want to think about it.

Something touched her ankle, startling her. ‘Sash?’ she called. ‘Is that you? I’m stuck.’

She strained her ears for the sound of her sister’s voice, but all she heard was a sharp crack of lightning.

The touch on her leg came again, higher now, nearer to the top of her calf. A shiver of fear ran down Jana’s spine. Something was moving along her body towards her face. Jana held her breath as she felt a slight pressure on her neck, soft as silk. It was all she could do not to shout out loud as the head of a large tiger snake emerged from behind her ear. Stay quiet, she told herself. Don’t alarm it.

The snake slid over her head, making her shudder and blink as the tail flicked her eye. It coiled its black-and-tan striped body around the root that Wall-E had been snagged on. The two of them stared at each other by the light of Jana’s torch, which seemed to be dimming. Great. Meanwhile the wombat hole was turning into a muddy pit as the rain continued to fall. The snake’s tongue flicked in and out, tasting the air. Jana licked her own lips and shut her eyes, hoping that the roof wouldn’t cave in and kill them both.

CHAPTER2

Mark Bell drove slowly along the dirt road while the rain lashed his silver Audi sports car. It was three o’clock in the afternoon, but so dark he could barely see five metres ahead of him. The car jolted alarmingly as he hit another pothole.

‘There!’ shouted twelve-year-old Karly, who was seated beside him. She pointed out the passenger side window. ‘Turn left there. Hurry, Dad.’ He could hear the distress in her voice.

Mark slowed to a crawl. A driveway emerged from the gloom, and he spun the wheel. Karly cradled the small bundle on her knees tighter as they passed through an open farm gate. A battered sign read ‘Odessa’ in a large, faded script. Underneath, in hand-painted writing, were the words ‘Wombat Sanctuary’.

Mark parked beside a rambling old farmhouse that looked much the worse for wear. What may once have been a charming wraparound verandah now told a tale of neglect, with rain gushing through gaps in the corrugated-iron roof to flood the splintered wooden decking below. The home’s weatherboard facade was bleached and peeling. He glanced across at Karly, who was hugging her bundle and crying softly.

‘Wait here.’ Mark sprang from the car and dashed through the deluge to the shelter of the verandah. A knock on the front door drew no response. He knocked again, harder this time. Damn – it seemed like nobody was home. Yet two cars were parked in the driveway. His eyes landed on a shed about fifty metres from the house. Shielding his face from the rain with one hand, he ran across to the ramshackle building and pushed through the door.

A young woman, her fair hair pulled back in a ponytail, was tinkering with a motor that sat on a broad worktable.

‘Knock, knock.’

She glanced up, seeming unsurprised by her visitor, then returned her attention to the motor. ‘It’s this chain that’s the problem,’ she said. ‘I got it from an old garage-door opener, but I think it’s the wrong size.’

The woman took no further notice of him.

‘My name’s Mark Bell.’ Still no response. ‘I have a baby wombat in the car.’

At that, she finally put down her screwdriver. ‘Well, why didn’t you say so? My name’s Sash, by the way.’ She grabbed a broad-brimmed hat from a wall hook and nodded towards the door. ‘Come on then.’

Mark led Sash to the car at a run to collect Karly and the baby. Then they all made a dash through the rain for the house, with Mark holding his coat over his daughter’s head as best he could.

‘Come into the kitchen,’ said Sash.

Karly’s lip trembled as she handed over the towel-swaddled bundle. Sash gently unwrapped it, revealing a barely furred wombat joey. ‘Not a pinky, then,’ she said, sounding relieved. ‘A little boy, five to six months old at a guess.’ She checked it over briefly. ‘I think his leg is broken.’

Karly gave a horrified gasp. ‘We found him in his mother’s pouch. She’d been killed by a car. Will he die too?’

Sash gave Karly a reassuring smile. ‘My sister’s a vet. I’ll ring her now. But let’s get this little fellow warmed up first.’

She filled a hot water bottle with warm tap water, wrapped it in a cloth nappy and placed it along with the joey in a flannelette pillow slip. Then she took the bundle into the next room.

Karly and Mark trailed after her, finding themselves in an eclectic cross between an average lounge or TV room and a makeshift vet clinic. They waited there for Sash, who’d disappeared down the hall with the joey. ‘The baby will be fine,’ soothed Mark, hugging Karly to him as she buried her face in his chest. ‘These people are experts.’ He hoped he was right. Karly had already suffered too much heartbreak in her young life. She sure as hell didn’t need any more.

A few minutes later Sash came back with a frown on her face. ‘I can’t reach Jana. Apparently, she didn’t show up at work this afternoon, and she’s not answering her phone.’

‘Jana?’

‘My sister. I’m worried about her. We’ll have to go looking.’

We? Whatever did she mean? ‘Sorry, but Karly and I have to go.’ Mark backed towards the front door.

Sash was pulling on her coat, oblivious to his objection. ‘Jana might have had an accident. She’s been monitoring over a hectare of burrows. I could use the help.’

Mark took Karly’s hand. ‘You’ll have to find someone else. My daughter and I have an appointment, and we’ve already detoured an hour out of our way.’

Karly pulled away, glaring at him accusingly.

‘I’m sorry love, but it’s important. It wasn’t easy getting you into Scarborough College midterm like this. I had to pull plenty of strings. You can’t afford to miss your enrolment interview with the principal again. First impressions count.’

‘Who cares?’ cried Karly. ‘I never wanted to go to your stupid school anyway.’

‘Sorry to interrupt your argument, guys,’ said Sash. ‘But we really must find Jana. Without a vet, that joey will die.’

‘Dad!’

Mark looked from Karly to Sash and back to Karly, seeing the desperation in his daughter’s eyes. He ran a hand over his head and heaved a sigh of defeat.

Sash threw Karly a coat. ‘We’ll go in my Jeep.’ She cast a contemptuous glance out the window at Mark’s Audi. ‘Your car would get bogged, nothing surer.’

Jana didn’t know how long she’d been trapped underground, but it seemed like an eternity. She was lying in a pool of slowly rising water, and her body shivered with a combination of cold and fear. Her reptilian companion hadn’t moved once. It fixed her with twin amber globes, half hypnotising Jana with its cold, unblinking glare. When Jana closed her eyes to break the spell, she no longer knew where the snake was. So she’d open them again, only to once more be captured by its mesmerising stare.

Her torch’s battery was running out. On medium it could last thirty hours, but it was set on high, and she hadn’t fully recharged it last night. In her rough estimation she had one, maybe two hours of light left. She tasted mud, spat it out and bit her lip. Her mouth was dry as sawdust. Please let helparrive soon. She dreaded the moment the torchlight would flicker out completely, leaving her to share the dark with her deadly companion.

A clod of earth fell from the roof, striking her temple, making her head jerk involuntarily. The snake, who’d been frozen in place for hours, recoiled with a sudden hiss. It flattened its body and raised its head in a classic prestrike pose. Jana stared in horror as the snake’s forked tongue darted in and out between thin, glossy lips. Stay still, she told herself. Don’t flinch or make a sound.

‘Jana!’

A shout from above – Sash’s voice. The snake reared higher at the sound. Jana groaned inwardly. Of all the times for help to arrive.

‘Are you all right down there!’

Of course I’m not, Jana wanted to shout. But instead, she held her nerve and her silence. Goodness knows what Sash would think when she didn’t answer.

Jana tried to kick her feet, but her legs had gone to sleep. Suddenly, she felt a wrench on her ankles, hard enough to drag her back a few centimetres. The shock made her scream, and the snake vanished deeper into the tunnel.

‘She’s alive!’ came Sash’s excited voice from above.

’Ow!’ Another hard yank on her ankles. Sash must be stronger than she looked. Jana groped for Wall-E, and her fingers grasped the robot just before Sash dragged her another metre or two towards the surface. Jana closed her mouth tight and turned her head to avoid receiving a face full of mud. Two more tugs and she was out, squirming on her belly like a landed fish, trying to bring back feeling to her cramped, frozen limbs.

Sash took hold of Jana’s hand and helped her to her feet as the drenching rain threatened to drown them both.

‘Thank Christ you’ve come,’ said Jana through chattering teeth, barely able to stand.

Sash steadied her. ‘What on earth were you doing?’

‘Wall-E was stuck on a tree root, and I accidentally pulled his cable out.’ She offered the robot to her sister. ‘You have to fix it, Sash. Wall-E has to go back tomorrow.’

‘Never mind that now.’ Sash shouldered Jana’s soaking backpack, then bent down to retrieve the Wombot’s ground station.

‘Here, let me,’ said another voice – a male voice.

A man stepped forward and picked up Wall-E’s heavy base unit.

Sash thanked him, then turned to her sister. ‘You should thank this bloke too. I didn’t drag you out of that muddy hole. He did.’

The man must have been there all along, but Jana hadn’t noticed him through the curtain of rain. Who was he, and why was he here? Nobody apart from herself and Sash ever visited this remote corner of the farm.

A sudden squall of hail had them all running for the Jeep, although Jana’s gait was more of a fast hobble. While Sash and the stranger stowed the gear in the boot, Jana climbed into the front passenger side and sat there shivering with Wall-E on her lap. A young girl sat on the back seat, sobbing softly. Jana recognised the school uniform that the child was wearing. It belonged to Scarborough College, where Jana had spent six years as a scholarship student – six long, lonely years.

The man climbed in beside the girl. ‘This lady is a vet,’ he told her. ‘She’ll help your wombat.’

The girl’s sobs abated.

It was typical of Sash not to provide Jana with introductions, or even any explanation for the presence of the visitors. Sash often ignored such social niceties. She put the Jeep in gear and they were off, zigzagging through the paddock to find the firmest ground.

‘Now, what’s this about a wombat?’ Jana asked, turning in her seat to address the man, facing him properly for the first time. And she found herself staring into a pair of eyes that she’d hoped never to see again.

CHAPTER3

Mark Bell. He and his posh mates had once been the bane of Jana’s existence. But her resentment towards this man went way beyond being bullied at school. She blamed him for something far more serious than that. His actions all those years ago had set in train a disastrous series of events that had resulted in a family tragedy.

Jana had been a happy Year 6 pupil at tiny Tanunda Primary when her mother, Lena, decided that she should sit the Scarborough College scholarship entrance exam. Jana hadn’t been keen. She’d expected to attend the local high school along with her friends.

‘Scarborough is one of the best schools in South Australia,’ Mum had urged. ‘Jana, you’re a smart girl. You have a real shot at this. Papa, tell her!’

Jana’s father, Jacob, had been less enthusiastic about the idea. ‘But it’s a boarding school, Lena. Do you really want our daughter living an hour away with strangers?’

‘I want her to have chances that I didn’t have as a child. My parents could never afford to send me to a school like Scarborough.’ Her face softened. ‘I want our girls to experience all the opportunities this country has to offer. They shouldn’t be held back by how much money we make. And the chance for a girl like Jana to attend such a fine school free of charge is surely a miracle.’

Jana had rolled her eyes. Her family might have been poor as church mice, but it didn’t feel that way to an eleven-year-old who’d been born with a passion for nature and an independent spirit. As far as Jana was concerned, Tanunda held all she needed: a loving family, good friends and the wide, sunlit Murraylands on her doorstep – just begging to be explored.

However, her carefree days of running wild by the river had come to an end. Jana had won her scholarship and was packed off to Scarborough College by a proud but tearful family. And so began six long years of feeling like a complete outsider. At Scarborough everything that Jana thought she knew about the world was turned on its head. The other students were from wealthy families. The few, like Jana, who came from less fortunate backgrounds had quickly learned to keep quiet about their circumstances for fear of ridicule.

But keeping her head down wasn’t so easy for a girl like Jana. She was naturally outspoken and forthright, with a rebellious streak – not someone to hide who she was – and making no apologies for her second-hand uniform and textbooks. And one look at her scuffed Big W runners and her unstyled blue-black hair, always pulled back in a practical ponytail, set her apart from the rest. Even her surname, Malinski – courtesy of her Polish grandparents – made her the butt of jokes, though for the life of her, Jana couldn’t understand why. She’d never suffered that sort of casual, petty bullying before. One student in particular, Harper Clark, seemed to have a particular set against her. Harper, with her bouncy blonde curls and who always had the latest iPhone, was the quintessential mean girl who never tired of making snide, hurtful remarks.

There were upsides to the new school, however. Firstly, the teachers. They recognised and appreciated Jana’s quick intelligence and zest for learning. She excelled at maths and science, becoming particularly fond of her biology teacher, who shared her enthusiasm about the natural world. Mrs Washington privately called Jana her ‘rose in a garden of weeds’. Unfair to the rest of the student body no doubt, but it had made Jana feel special.

Secondly, she loved the two-storey state-of-the-art library, so different from the corner of one room set aside for books at the single-teacher primary school in Tanunda. At Scarborough a world of knowledge lay at Jana’s fingertips, and she often had to be pried away from her studies for meals or bedtime. This didn’t help her image, of course, as she became known as a nerdy swot as well as a poverty-stricken scholarship kid. She never let on to her parents how unhappy she was, although she sometimes thought that Dad guessed. Mum was so proud of Jana and her stellar academic achievements – the truth would break her mother’s heart.

Life at Scarborough became even more intolerable when Jana reached her final senior years. That was when Harper started going out with Mark Bell, who became complicit in her relentless bullying campaign. Until then, Mark hadn’t bothered Jana. In fact, he’d completely ignored her, unaware that she’d formed a secret schoolgirl crush on him somewhere around Year 9. Jana knew it wouldn’t go anywhere. Mark Bell was rich as buggery, and handsome in a tall, fair-haired, chisel-jawed sort of way – what Americans would have called a jock. Captain of everything, every year – school captain, sports captain, debating captain, captain of both the football and the cricket team. Jana used to have pleasant daydreams about him, imagining that he suddenly lost interest in spin bowling and became fascinated by wildlife conservation. He’d seek her out, pledging love and swearing that nobody shared his passion for animals the way she did. Then he’d kiss her and ask her to be his girlfriend.

But of course, he asked Harper instead. For eighteen months the pair basked in the status of being the senior school’s golden couple. Girls wanted to be Harper, and boys wanted to be Mark. Everyone wanted to be admitted to their select social circle. Then, halfway through Year 12, Harper abruptly left Scarborough College. Jana had taken a relieved breath when she heard the news. Life at Scarborough was bound to improve in the absence of her chief tormentor.

How wrong she’d been.

All this and more flashed through her mind as she gazed into the piercing blue eyes of her saviour, staring at her from the back seat of her sister’s Jeep. What would happen when he realised who she was? Would he have the good grace to look ashamed? Would he apologise? Time seemed to stand still. Jana waited, sick to her stomach with apprehension, not knowing what would come next. But what she didn’t expect was to see no flash of recognition in his eyes at all. Apparently, Mark Bell had forgotten that she ever existed.

CHAPTER4

When they arrived back at the house, Jana switched her brain to professional mode. She had an injured joey to assess, and that task required her undivided attention. But bubbling close to the surface was a growing anger. After everything this man had caused her to endure, didn’t she deserve a place in his memory?

Karly looked on with wide, worried eyes as Jana examined the joey in the lounge-room. ‘You’re right,’ Jana told her sister. ‘His back leg is broken, but apart from that he appears to be uninjured. His gums are nice and pink, so I doubt there’s internal bleeding. He’s quite dehydrated, though. I’ll try to get some fluids into him, then take him into the clinic for an X-ray.’

‘Will he be all right?’ Karly whispered. Jana turned and took her first proper look at the girl. She was fairer than her father, but the family resemblance was plain.

Jana put the joey into a soft pouch and hung it from a digital scale. ‘Four hundred grams.’

Karly sniffed back some tears. ‘Four hundred grams. Is that good, then?’

‘Quite good, yes, and I think he’s warm enough for some milk. His eyes are open, which is also good. Orphaned wombats are always suffering from shock, and that can be deadly, but I think this one stands a good chance. Sash,’ she said. ‘Can you get a feed ready, then pull the curtains and turn the main light off?’

A few minutes later, her sister emerged from the kitchen with a bottle of milk and handed it over. Jana tested the temperature by letting a few drops trickle onto her wrist, just as one would do for a human infant. She waited for the room to darken, then guided the odd, extended teat into the joey’s mouth. ‘Come on, now,’ she murmured.

After a few anxious moments the baby closed his eyes and began to suck. Jana relaxed and shot an encouraging glance at Karly. The girl smiled back shyly, such genuine relief in her bright blue eyes that Jana couldn’t help warming to her. So, Mark had a child. He must have married very young, although he wore no ring. The girl looked to be eleven or twelve years old, the same age Jana had been when she first attended Scarborough College. Although Jana had never had a brand-new uniform and expensive shoes like Karly’s.

‘Poor thing,’ said Karly, peering at the little wombat who’d gone to sleep in Jana’s arms. ‘I’m going to name him Womble. Do you like that name? You said you’d X-ray him. Do you have an X-ray machine here?’

‘I’ll take him to the vet clinic in Rivertown,’ said Jana, placing Womble back in the pillowcase. ‘Just as soon as I make up a new hot water bottle for the trip.’

‘Let me do that,’ said Sash, taking Womble from her.

‘Can I come?’ asked Karly.

‘No,’ said Mark, who was standing behind his daughter and checking his watch. ‘We need to go now and let this lady get cleaned up.’

Cleaned up? In between caring for the joey and her astonishment at recognising her rescuer, Jana had forgotten how filthy and bedraggled she was after her extended stay in the muddy wombat burrow.

Mark put a hand on Karly’s shoulder, but she shook it off. ‘When can I come back to visit Womble?’ she asked, eyes on Jana.

Jana stayed silent, taking in Mark’s impatient body language and exasperated expression. She didn’t want to get in the middle of an argument, and she certainly didn’t want him returning to Odessa.

‘I don’t think that’s a good idea,’ said Mark. ‘This busy lady doesn’t want you bothering her.’

Jana bridled at this. Who was he to say what she did or didn’t want?

Karly rounded on her father. ‘I hate you. I wish you weren’t my dad.’ Then she dissolved into tears. ‘Please,’ she sobbed. ‘Pleeease. I’ll never ask for anything else ever again.’

Mark looked to Jana with faintly raised brows, as if he hoped that she might support him. She glared back. The nerve of the man!

‘You’re welcome to come back whenever you like, Karly,’ said Jana, partly to piss Mark off, and partly because she could see how much it meant to the girl.

Karly rushed over and wrapped her arms around Jana’s waist. Her school dress was now almost as wet and muddy as Jana was.

Mark sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. ‘Can we go now?’

Karly nodded glumly and detached herself from Jana, who offered her a box of tissues. The girl blew her nose with a loud honk, then fixed her gaze on her father. ‘Dad, when can we come back? This weekend? On Saturday?’

‘Well, I don’t know if . . .’

Jana watched Mark squirm and couldn’t help herself. ‘Saturday’s fine. It will be nice to have an extra helper. We have some other joeys apart from Womble to care for. But he’s by far the youngest.’

Karly’s eyes grew large. ‘Wow. Can I see them?’

‘Not now,’ said Mark, firmly. ‘You can see them on Saturday. If it’s all right with these people, that is.’

His words surprised her. Jana hadn’t really expected that he’d be back on the weekend. She glanced at the girl’s tearstained face and suddenly hoped that Mark meant what he said about visiting. She hated the idea of seeing him again, but if he broke his promise, it would clearly disappoint the young girl.

Mark shuffled his feet and glanced towards the door. ‘I’d like to make a donation towards the wombat’s—’

‘His name’s Womble,’ corrected Karly.

‘Towards Womble’s upkeep.’

This was very welcome news. Their expenses had outstripped their income for months now, but Jana still couldn’t bring herself to thank Mark for his offer. Instead, she took an information pamphlet from a desk drawer and thrust it at him. ‘This has our web address. Odessa Wombat Sanctuary There’s a donation page. Now you need to go because I have lots to do.

Jana knew that she was being brusque, almost rude, but she didn’t care. She turned her back on Mark and ran her tongue over the dried-up crud around her mouth. She felt suddenly weary. The adrenaline was wearing off, her body ached all over, and she desperately wanted to shower and change her muddy clothes. To have a steaming hot cup of coffee. To have some private time in which to process her feelings about seeing Mark again. He didn’t recognise her. Unbelievable. If Karly wasn’t there, she would have confronted him, demanded to know why he’d strung her along, broken her heart and humiliated her so publicly. She would have explained about the car accident that had wrecked her family and why she still blamed him for that more than ten years on.

Mark called to Karly from the door. This time the girl reluctantly obeyed, whispering her goodbyes before following her father from the room. Once they left, Sash gave her an odd look.

Jana glared at her sister. ‘What?’

Sash grinned. ‘Oh, I don’t know. You’re supposed to be the people person. And yet you didn’t thank the man who rescued you from a muddy pit, and then you behaved as if he was somehow on the nose. Even when he offered a donation, it didn’t help. Usually, you talk this place up and give that cheesy spiel about how public support is our lifeline, blah, blah, blah. Instead, you threw a pamphlet in his face and told him to leave.’

How should she respond? She wished it was as simple as saying, ‘That man is Mark Bell.’ But that wouldn’t explain anything, because Jana hadn’t told anyone about what Mark had done to her at school, not even her sister. Nobody knew why Jana had run away from Scarborough College in the middle of the night just before her final exams. She’d hitchhiked as far as the tiny town of Overland Corner and then rung her parents.

She recalled that whole nightmare as if it was yesterday. Wandering deserted streets in the early hours. Wanting to ring her parents but at the same time horrified by the idea. Finally finding the courage to call, and her words coming in a muffled rush, muddied by the sobs she fought to keep back. Her mother’s voice when she answered the phone, thick with sleep and worry.

Her parents had been on their way from Tanunda to collect her when a truck hit their car, leaving them both with serious injuries. Her mother had recovered, although it had taken months. Dad hadn’t been so fortunate. He’d been left with permanent brain damage. The accident had uprooted the whole family. They were forced to move to Adelaide for the intensive medical rehabilitation her father needed. Mum became his full-time carer, leasing out the family farm to a neighbour.

But both sisters had yearned for the Murraylands. When Jana finished her studies, she and Sash returned to reclaim Odessa, the place was seriously rundown – overgrazed, with weed-infested paddocks and great gutters of erosion extending for hundreds of metres along the riverbank. During the past three years they’d made good progress at destocking, rehabilitating the land and planting thousands of native seedlings. The problem was that they’d run out of money. They now faced the depressing prospect of abandoning their dream of turning Odessa into a wildlife sanctuary, maybe even having to give up their rescue work completely. And as if that wasn’t awful enough, Jana running into Mark Bell again had dredged up a slew of painful memories that she’d hoped to leave in the past.

‘I need a shower,’ she said and left the room. Thank goodness her sister wasn’t too nosy. She’d soon become distracted by her next tech project and forget about Jana’s uncharacteristic rudeness. And just as well, because Jana would never explain to anybody what Mark Bell had done and how deeply he’d hurt her. And she’d never allow herself to be that vulnerable again.

CHAPTER5

‘Come on,’ Mark called. ‘You’ll catch your death.’

Karly stood in the pouring rain, leaning over a paddock fence and holding out her hand to a group of eastern grey kangaroos. They were sheltering in a straw-lined shed made out of half a corrugated-iron water tank. The girl took a last, longing look towards the animals before running to the car.

He watched with dismay as Karly dripped all over the front seat. The crisp new uniform that she’d put on that morning was a soggy, muddy mess. She’d pulled the ribbon from her flyaway hair, which had escaped its ponytail and now framed her face in a tangled blonde mop. Her eyes were red from crying.

Mark groaned and picked up his mobile. Even if he could get to Scarborough College in time, which he couldn’t, Karly was in no fit state to attend an interview. There was nothing for it but to cancel – again.

The voice on the other end of the phone was curt. ‘Mr Bell, we do always try to accommodate the children of our alumni, however, I fear that you’re not taking the admission process seriously. The school has made an effort to find a place for Karly, but I’m afraid that I can’t hold it for her any longer.’

No, this wouldn’t do at all. ‘Please, Mrs Hall. Give us one more chance. Schedule another interview for whenever it suits you. I guarantee that we’ll be there.’

‘You say that, but your availability until now has been rather limited.’

‘Yes, I’m sorry about that, but I’ve been coping with a lot of changes. Moving back to Rivertown with my daughter. Starting a new job. But from now on, Karly’s education is my top priority. You’ve been so very understanding, and I appreciate that more than you know. Just name a time.’

Mrs Hall sounded mollified. ‘Well . . . I believe that you’ve only had custody of your daughter for a short time.’

‘That’s right. Roughly four months.’

‘And you’re raising her as a single father?’

‘I’m trying to, yes, but it hasn’t been easy. My life needed a lot of rearranging.’

‘I imagine so. And Karly’s mother?’

‘Not in the picture at the moment, I’m afraid.’

‘Aah . . .  Poor child. Parenthood is a full-time job, Mr Bell – the most important job you’ll ever have. It sounds like you might finally understand that.’

‘Absolutely.’ This was more hopeful. Mark didn’t say anything more, worried that he might blow it.

After a long pause Mrs Hall finally said, ‘I can fit Karly in at nine tomorrow morning. But if you’re even five minutes late your daughter’s offer of a place will be withdrawn.’

Yes! ‘We’ll be early and thank you.’

Mark ended the call before the principal could change her mind. He was determined that Karly should attend his old school, and he didn’t take defeat well. To be honest, it rarely happened. His mother had always said he lived a charmed life, and maybe there was some truth in that. Mark was used to being right and getting what he wanted.

And why was it so important to him that Karly went to Scarborough? The school had been a safe refuge for him during the chaos of his parents’ divorce – a genuine home away home, providing him with a surrogate family when his own was in turmoil. He wanted his daughter to have that same kind of security.

Karly was staring out the car window at the rain. What isshe thinking? he wondered for the umpteenth time, wishing she would open up about her feelings. However difficult this new arrangement was for him, it must be ten times more difficult for Karly.

She’d be missing her mother, of course, but perhaps she’d be missing her grandparents more. She’d lived with Harper’s parents on and off for most of her life, until their ill health had made that arrangement impossible. A few months ago, Harper had appeared on his doorstep in Adelaide, demanding that he take Karly.

‘It’s the least that you can do after knocking me up at seventeen and ruining my life. I’m a flight attendant,’ she’d said. ‘I’m overseas more often than I’m home. My world isn’t set up for a child right now.’

And mine is? Mark had thought. After all, he hardly knew the girl. A few awkward access visits when she was living with her grandparents had been the extent of his contact. He hadn’t been welcome there, and he could understand why.

Karly was six when Mark became aware that she’d been born. She’d needed her tonsils out and the hospital had contacted him in order to complete an accurate medical record. It was an understatement to say that he had been shocked. Mark’s emotions had veered between joy at discovering he had a daughter and apprehension about how it might change his life. It turned out that he didn’t have to worry about that last part. Karly’s grandparents seemed to be doing most of her raising, and they were implacably opposed to Mark’s involvement with their granddaughter. To be honest, that was almost a relief. Mark himself hadn’t felt ready for the responsibility of being a hands-on father. Yet sometimes over the years, he’d drift off to sleep wondering about what toys Karly liked best, or what was her favourite colour. Not knowing had left him feeling strangely empty.

His daughter’s existence solved the mystery of Harper’s sudden departure from school all those years ago. They’d been foolish kids, playing at adult relationships, too impulsive and irresponsible to be careful. And Harper had paid the price: losing her friends and missing out on graduation. Having to juggle caring for a child while trying to forge a career for herself as a single mother.

Well, it was finally Mark’s turn to have his life upended. When Harper had shown up a few months back with a twelve-year-old Karly, his girlfriend had left him, complaining that she wasn’t ready to be a mother to some other woman’s child. But the truth was that their relationship had already been on the rocks. Mark was a workaholic who had never prioritised his personal life over his career.

That was all about to change. He’d turned down a promotion because it would have meant that he didn’t have time for Karly, then he’d resigned altogether from his position as a senior executive at a leading Adelaide tax accountancy. He’d sold his city apartment and moved back to Rivertown on the Murray where he’d spent most of his childhood. There he’d purchased Paddlewheel, a luxury architect-designed home right on the river with a hectare of garden and its own private pier. He’d bought boys’ toys like a sports cruiser and a jet-ski, and he’d found a position at Turner & Moore, a large regional accounting firm with its main office five minutes away in town. The reduced salary, reduction in prestige and loss of seniority was a bitter pill for a man as ambitious as Mark Bell. But it was worth it to know that Karly would have a better life in Rivertown than in Adelaide. A slower pace of living would allow both him and his daughter the space and time to connect.

So far, Mark was not enjoying his new job. Howard Turner, the senior partner, seemed to reserve the most difficult accounts for him – clients wanting to minimise their tax situations by pushing boundaries, trying to pass off shady deductions or buy into some sort of ‘creative’ tax-avoidance scheme. One local developer, Tony Alfonso, was the worst example of this kind of client. Mark had purchased Paddlewheel from Alfonso, and for some reason the man thought that entitled him to preferential treatment. He took up far too much of Mark’s time, argued the cost of every bill, and seemed to seek Mark’s counsel just so that he could turn around and do the exact opposite. It left Mark having to regularly comb through Alfonso’s files to make sure that he wasn’t accidentally party to something that could put both the firm and his reputation at risk.

Then there were the ‘Wait – I’m supposed to keep track of my expenses?’ sort of clients. They kept their documents all higgledy-piggledy in shoe boxes, often mixing up personal and business expenses, which they would then sheepishly empty onto Mark’s desk with a hopeful expression.

And finally, there were the clients facing bankruptcy. Some of these could remain solvent with sound financial advice, and Mark tried hard to help them trade their way out of difficulty. But others were lost causes, leaving him feeling sad and a little helpless. The one that had affected him most was a rundown zoo. Wildfell Park displayed exotic animals as well as natives, but the elderly owner was no longer capable of running it and had accumulated substantial debts trying to keep the zoo afloat. She would soon lose her licence to operate the zoo and faced the awful possibility of not only having to let the skeleton staff go, but also having to put down many of the animals.

Having worked in Adelaide for most of his career, Mark was used to dealing exclusively with wealthy corporate accounts, and adjusting to such small-scale clientele in Rivertown took some getting used to. Still, it couldn’t be helped. Karly needed stability, and having his father, Don, with his second wife, Gwen, close by at Overland Corner was a major advantage of living in Rivertown. Karly had taken to the pair instantly, and vice versa. Gwen was a retired teacher and had been homeschooling Karly while Mark waited for a position to become available at Scarborough College. If Karly could board at the college during the week, Mark could throw himself into his work, establish himself at his new job, and still have the weekends free for his daughter. It seemed like a solid plan, but he hadn’t banked on Karly hating the idea.

‘I don’t want to go to boarding school,’ she’d screamed, immediately throwing a tantrum. ‘I want to live with Grandma and Grandpa.’ She’d cried and refused to attend the first interview at all. She’d only agreed to go to the second one when Don had promised her a puppy.

Karly’s passion for animals was something that Mark was discovering. He’d bought expensive fishing gear for his boat, thinking that he and Karly might bond during lazy afternoons on the river catching trout and perch. But she wasn’t interested. ‘Killing innocent fish doesn’t sound like fun to me,’ she’d said with a frown. Instead, his mystifying daughter would spend whole afternoons in the expansive back yard at Paddlewheel, taking photos of birds or insects. When he did his parental due diligence by checking out Karly’s internet search history, he found out that her most visited site was a field guide to South Australian fauna.

She seemed to have a natural affinity with every kind of animal. Brightly coloured king parrots followed her around the garden and took seed from her hand. A bandicoot emerged from under the back steps when she called, accepting offerings of fruit. And they couldn’t walk through a park without Karly wanting to stop and pat every dog, their tails wagging excitedly at the sight of her.

Little wonder, then, that she was thrilled at Grandpa Don’s offer. ‘My neighbour’s sheepdog is expecting a litter,’ he’d said. ‘How does a border collie sound?’

Karly had danced around the room with excitement. ‘I’ve always wanted a pet!’ she squealed, then glared at Mark. ‘But I’ll never get to see it if I’m going to be at that stupid school all week.’

‘Well, yes,’ Don had said. ‘But your father will bring you here on weekends to visit, right son?’

Mark had agreed to the arrangement. Lesson one of being a father. If all else fails – bribe. And it was a bribe that should still work tomorrow. By hook or by crook, he would get his recalcitrant daughter to Scarborough College in the morning.

His thoughts turned to the series of unfortunate events that had led them to miss this afternoon’s interview. They’d left his father’s house in Overland Corner with time to spare. Mark had barely noticed the wombat lying beside the road. He’d driven past them plenty of times before. But this time was different.

‘Stop,’ Karly had said, turning in her seat and craning her neck to keep her eyes on the animal. ‘We have to see if it’s alive and check its pouch.’

‘We do?’ asked a bemused Mark as the heavens opened.

‘Yes, we do.’ Karly was firm, so he turned around and parked nearby.

They got out of the car. The wombat looked dead to him. Thick blood oozed from its mouth. He poked it with a stick. Nothing. Mark glanced at his trembling daughter.

‘Come on, honey.’ He put his arm around her shoulder. ‘There’s nothing we can do for it now.’

‘Yes, there is,’ she said. ‘We can check its pouch.’

He made a face. Did she really want him to stick his hand between the bloodied animal’s legs and feel around?

‘We have to,’ she urged. ‘What if there’s a baby?’

So he did, and there was.

He’d frantically googled wildlife carers, worried that he might not get phone reception on the remote highway. Two bars – thank God. Odessa Wombat Sanctuary was the closest – a forty-five-minute drive in the opposite direction. But what else could he do? Even if his teary daughter hadn’t been sitting beside him, he wouldn’t have let the little orphan die. And anyway, they had time. They weren’t due at Scarborough College for hours. He’d planned to take Karly shopping beforehand in Rivertown for her first iPhone. She desperately wanted one, and he hoped it would put her in a positive frame of mind during the interview. The last thing he wanted was for her to clam up the way she often did when things didn’t go her way.

But buying the phone hadn’t happened. The entire interview hadn’t happened. Because he’d been hijacked into rescuing a woman from a wombat hole in the middle of a storm. What were the odds? And to top it all off, the woman – Jana, the other one had called her – hadn’t even thanked him. In fact, she’d seemed hostile from the moment she laid eyes on him. There was no accounting for people. But she had been prompt and professional in caring for Womble, and she’d been kind to Karly, even inviting her back to check on the orphan’s progress. And Mark was grateful for it. Heaven knows what would have happened if Womble had died. Karly would have been inconsolable.

He remembered his offer of a donation to Odessa. The wombat sanctuary had a definite air of dilapidation about it. Sagging fences and a potholed drive that desperately needed grading and more gravel. Paint flaked from the home’s weather boards, and inside the carpet was worn right through in patches, exposing the floorboards. Those two sisters were doing it tough, and he intended to be generous. They were providing a wonderful service for the local wildlife, and it gave him a kick to think that he could help. Mark turned their names over in his mind. Sash and Jana. Jana. Now where had he heard that name before?

CHAPTER6

Jana was putting a sleepy Womble back in the pillowcase after his morning feed when Sash sang out from the spare room cum office. ‘Come and look at this.’

When Jana went in and glanced at her sister’s laptop, her heart sank. Sash had the sanctuary’s online NetBank page open. Jana guessed that they’d finally reached their $4000 overdraft limit. She hadn’t been game to check their account lately. It was too depressing. It wasn’t as if they had a choice whether to spend or not. In addition to the joeys, they also had some older wombats, some orphaned kangaroos and three aviaries full of birds recovering from various injuries. Some might never be able to be released. Veterinary care, maintenance and feeding costs were high and non-negotiable.

The sisters never mentioned their financial woes to their mother in Adelaide. She had no money to spare. But they did send regular photos and positive updates for her to share with their father. Who knew if they registered with him or not? But Dad had always loved Odessa and its wildlife. He was responsible for fostering a passion for nature in his daughters. The least they could do was send him photographs.

Sash turned to Jana, an amazed look on her face. ‘We’re in the black.’

‘In the black? That doesn’t make sense. Don’t you mean in the red?’

Sash grinned. ‘See for yourself.’

She was right. The account was no longer overdrawn. Instead, it had a credit balance of $1089. But how? Their latest wages had already been eaten up by the electricity bill and a rates instalment. So where had the great mystery deposit of a whopping $5000 come from?

‘It’s a donation,’ said Sash, switching to their website. ‘See this comment? “In thanks for helping Womble.” My God, not only did that Mark guy drag you out of a wombat hole, but he’s dragged us out of a financial hole as well. This is fantastic. We can pay the produce store bill, buy that wire netting for the new aviary, and we’ll still be in credit.’ Sash’s smile suddenly slipped, and she gave her sister a stern look. ‘If Mr Moneybags comes back on Saturday like he said, you’d better be a bit more friendly to him. Who knows? We might get another donation.’

Pleased as Jana was for the sanctuary to be solvent again, she couldn’t go so far as feeling grateful to Mark. It jarred to think that she was indebted to that man in any way. But Sash was right – they couldn’t afford to alienate such a generous supporter. Jana would have to brush her personal feelings aside for the sake of the animals. It would be difficult. She was a naturally honest person, not accustomed to putting on an act. For the first time Jana wondered if maybe Mark had recognised her after all. Was that why he’d been so generous? Was he trying to assuage a guilty conscience?

Jana marched wordlessly from the room, aware of Sash’s curious eyes upon her but unwilling to explain. She couldn’t help hoping that Mark wouldn’t return tomorrow, however much the broken promise might hurt Karly.

Unfortunately, Mark was true to his word. The next morning at 11.00 am his silver sports car bumped its way up Odessa’s potholed drive. It was raining again. Jana watched from the porch as he parked by the house, unable to avoid the puddles. The car’s gleaming chassis was spattered with mud. It gave her a certain satisfaction to see it.

Karly burst from the car and ran to Jana. ‘How’s Womble.’

‘He’s fine. Just fine.’