Chapter 32

CHAPTER

32

‘Both twins are still there,’ Anna Prentiss told Bree. ‘They are small, but not as small as I would have expected.’ She pointed at the black and white screen.

Bree could see them clearly. Twins. And still healthy at a far more advanced stage than either she or Anna had expected. She stroked Sky’s silky neck. ‘What do you think the chances are? Of at least one of them surviving?’

‘I wouldn’t have put the chances too high of them both still being there.’ Anna started packing away her scanner. ‘I’ve only known one twin pregnancy get this far.’

‘How did that end?’ Bree asked fearfully.

‘She had one live birth. The cria was pretty small and weak. It took a lot of looking after, but it survived and did really well. Grew into a normal, healthy animal.’

‘But there are cases of both twins surviving.’

‘Yes, but the odds aren’t good. Twins occur maybe one in every ten thousand pregnancies. And only one in fifty thousand sees one or both twins survive.’

‘I’m not giving up on them.’ Bree had seen a twin born and survive when her animals had been on agistment. This alpaca, her pretty brown and white Sky, had been pregnant with twins three years ago. She’d lost both, but had given birth to two healthy babies since. And now this.

‘There’s a long way to go yet, Bree. And no guarantees.’

‘I know. But I have to do everything I can to help her.’

‘You do, I understand.’

Bree liked Anna. In her experience, vets were kind but practical. Anna was perhaps more of the former than most.

‘The rest of your girls are fine. There will be more babies arriving soon.’

Anna had also had a good look at the crias already in the nursery paddock. All seemed healthy. Bree was going to be busy—it was time to start breeding the females again, though her stud boys would stay at the far side of the property for the next couple of days, well away from temptation, kept company by a couple of quiet, gelded males.

Anna spent a bit more time with Bree, talking about extra nutrition for Sky and signs to watch for as the pregnancy neared its end.

‘I’ll drop by fairly regularly when I’m passing,’ she said. ‘I can just take a quick look at her out in the paddock if you’re not around.’

‘I won’t be going too far. And if I’m not here, Maggie will be. Or my grandmother. She’s coming up later today.’

‘I hear she’s moving here permanently. Taking over the old store and cottage.’

‘Yep. She’s sold her apartment in Sydney and expects to be moved into that cottage as soon as Jake has finished some improvements. There’s a lot to do, so we’re not sure how long it will take.’

‘Mike will be pleased about that. He doesn’t like the city. Mind you, he’s probably made more trips to Sydney since he met your grandmother than in the rest of his life.’

Bree laughed. She was well aware of that and it made her glad. Her grandmother deserved to be happy.

‘Anna, can you stay in touch about your visits, please? I want to make sure everything is all right for Sky, but I don’t have a bottomless pit of money.’

‘Of course. And don’t worry. There’s a possibility of live twins so I’m very invested in this for my own reasons. The bill won’t be too terrifying.’

‘Thanks.’

After Anna set off down the driveway, Bree settled herself in for the daily routine she’d established with Maggie, gently and calmly sending small groups of alpacas into the metal yards and stalls for feeding. The pregnant females were first and those with crias at foot came later. She made sure each animal was healthy before turning them back into their paddocks, still wet after good overnight rain. After the girls, it was the boys’ turn. Although generally calm animals, sometimes their male egos got a little out of control and aggressive at this time of the year. Those curved teeth could do a bit of damage. But not today.

***

The afternoon was drawing into evening when she heard a car on her drive. That would be Nan. Bree liked the idea of having her around for more than a day or two. She wasn’t sure how long it would be before the cottage in town was ready for habitation, but Nan was welcome to stay as long as she needed to. And Mike too, if that was what her grandmother wanted.

She glanced out the window. There were two cars coming down her driveway, and the second one was not Mike’s. She knew who the dark grey Mercedes belonged to and it was a surprise. She glanced down at herself. Her jeans were old and very much showing the signs of a couple of days’ wear around the animals. Not that Nan would mind. But her other visitors …

It was too late now. The two cars parked side by side and Bree sighed and walked out to greet the occupants.

‘Hi, Nan. Mother. Father. This is a pleasant surprise.’

‘I have a meeting with your Matt Ambrose tomorrow morning, so we thought we’d come up early and have a look at your … farm.’ Margaret looked about her. ‘My mother has told us quite a lot about it.’

Bree caught Rose’s eye. Her grandmother was trying not to grin wildly as Bree’s parents took in their surroundings. The place looked much better now than when Bree had first seen it—it looked prosperous and cared for. But as she looked at it through her parents’ eyes, Bree saw only the places that still needed work. The old wooden fence posts, dark grey with faded creosote. The walls of the house that needed painting. The temporary metal yards that would one day be replaced with new ones. The remains of the flower gardens by the gate that were exactly that—remains.

‘It looks like a lot of hard work,’ was Gary’s reaction. ‘Far harder than working at the firm.’

‘It is hard work, Father. But it’s much more enjoyable.’

‘Yes. Well. Why don’t you show us around and let us see these animals?’ Margaret didn’t sound at all enthused at the prospect. She was also wearing her trademark smart suit and heeled shoes. Not exactly appropriate for stomping around a rural property.

‘Of course, Mother. But first, we have to do something about your feet.’

Bree led her parents to the nearest outbuilding. Just inside the door was a rack with rows of paired gumboots. ‘Mother, you’ll need these. Father, it’s up to you.’ She looked pointedly at his shoes. While far more sensible than the shoes her mother was wearing, his expensive black loafers would not be enhanced by mud. ‘It did rain quite a bit last night.’

‘Ah, yes. I’m a size ten.’

‘You’re a six, aren’t you, Mother?’ Bree held out a pair.

Margaret took them and held them tentatively at arm’s length. ‘Whose are these?’

‘They are for the alpaca walkers,’ Bree told her, ignoring the gleeful grin her grandmother was trying to hide.

‘Well. If I have to.’

‘If you don’t, you won’t be wearing those Blahniks again.’

Margaret threw Bree a look that had been known to cause her firm’s junior associates to blanch, then she perched delicately on a wooden bench and removed her city shoes.

Gary had no such hesitation. ‘How do I look?’

Bree suppressed a giggle. The lower legs of her father’s tailor-made suit had disappeared into a pair of muddy green gumboots.

‘You look quite the farmer, Father. Although you could lose the tie.’

‘Ah. Yes.’ Gary removed the offending object and crumpled the silk into a pocket of the suit jacket he was still wearing. By her father’s standards, he was now a picture of casual dressing.

Margaret got to her feet and took a few tentative steps. ‘They are not too uncomfortable.’ This from the woman who could spend all day in a pair of six-inch heels and never so much as shift her weight from the pain.

‘Shall we go?’ Bree led the way down to the girls’ paddock. She hoped the sight of the crias suckling and walking around on their none-too-sturdy legs would help her parents understand the love she had for these creatures. ‘They’re very gentle and shy animals,’ she said. ‘You’re perfectly safe around them. They only spit when they’re really upset.’

‘Spit?’ Margaret sounded horrified.

‘Don’t try to pat them. And don’t walk up to them in the paddock. They like their personal space.’ A bit like me , Bree didn’t add. ‘They may get curious and come up to you, but we don’t try to touch them unless they have halters on. If they walk up to check you out, let them. You can talk to them if you want to. They like that.’ Bree opened the paddock gate to let her parents in.

‘But I thought you did walks with them,’ Gary said. ‘How do you do that if you can’t handle them?’

Her father had done his research. Or maybe Rose had talked about the walks. Whichever it was, Bree felt a little glow of pleasure that he cared enough to ask.

‘When we go for walks, they have halters on. It’s sort of the difference between working and time off. In the paddock, they’re not on duty, so we let them decide how things are to go.’

The three of them walked a few metres into the paddock and stopped. The alpacas had noticed them and a couple were ambling over to check them out.

‘Oh. The babies!’

Margaret’s exclamation caught Bree by surprise. Her mother sounded interested. Maybe even excited.

‘They’re called crias, Mother. The birthing season has started.

That white one looking at you, she’s the oldest. Three weeks.’

‘How cute.’

Cute? That was a word Bree didn’t think she had ever heard from her mother.

One of the alpacas approached Gary. It stretched out its neck and sniffed his arm. Gary froze, his face showing such a degree of uncertainty, Bree had to bite back a laugh. The day was not going how she expected it to.

The surprises continued after the tour, when Gary announced they should all go out for dinner.

‘I was going to suggest the same,’ Bree said with a sigh of relief. ‘I wasn’t prepared for five for dinner.’

‘Five?’ Gary frowned. ‘But we are only four.’

Bree glanced at her grandmother, but Rose was showing no inclination to explain.

‘The best place to go is the pub,’ Bree went on. ‘It’s the only place in town, and it’s a bit far to drive to Scone.’

‘I know. We’ve booked a room there for the night.’

Her father’s words shocked Bree. Her parents were generally first class all the way—they considered a four-star hotel to be a bit downmarket. She cast a quick glance at Rose, who winked. It would seem her grandmother had her own plans for this visit.

An hour later, Bree left Maggie finishing up for the night as she and Rose drove into town, following the Mercedes.

‘Do they know about Mike?’

Her grandmother shook her head. ‘Not yet. But they will before the night is out.’

‘Shouldn’t you warn them?’

‘I thought about it, but decided I wanted to see Margaret’s face when she figures it out.’

‘Nan!’

‘I did warn Mike, though.’

‘How does he feel about it?’

‘He’s looking forward to meeting my daughter.’

‘You did mention that she’s not the slightest bit like you? Or me, for that matter.’

‘I may have said certain personality traits may have skipped a generation. But—’ Rose’s voice firmed, ‘—your mother is a good person. She means well. It’ll be fine. Once she gets over the initial shock.’

‘It wasn’t her I was worried about.’

When they arrived at the pub, it was bustling. ‘Jake’s cooking tonight,’ Bree explained as they made their way to a table big enough for five. ‘His food is great. Nothing too fancy, but really good.’

She introduced her parents to Deb, who told them their room was ready, but she was busy with meals right now and they could collect their key after the dinner rush was over.

Margaret looked at the menu and left Gary to struggle a bit with the fact that the wine list was more a colour choice than an actual list.

‘Hello, Mike.’ Rose’s lips curved into a welcoming smile.

Bree watched her mother’s face as this tall, sexy man bent down to kiss Rose in a way that made their relationship very clear. To say Margaret looked shocked was an understatement.

Mike sat down beside Rose.

‘Margaret, Gary. This is Mike Stowe.’

Gary seemed oblivious to his wife’s shock. Or his mother-in-law’s cheeky grin. ‘Nice to meet you, Mike.’ He held a hand across the table and Mike shook it.

‘Nice to meet you, Gary.’ Mike nodded. ‘And you too, Margaret. Hi, Bree. How’s Sky?’

‘She’s doing fine.’ Bree explained to her parents, ‘That’s the alpaca you saw earlier today. The one expecting twins.’

‘Mike works with alpacas too,’ Rose said, clearly enjoying her daughter’s confusion.

‘Oh. Are you a breeder like Bree?’ Gary asked.

‘No. I’m actually a shearer. My team and I travel around shearing during the season. I shear for Bree. That’s how Rose and I met.’ The glance Mike cast at Rose was as sweet as it was possible to be for someone with his rugged looks.

‘Which is harder, sheep or alpacas?’ Gary seemed genuinely interested.

As the men talked, Bree watched her mother gather her composure. By the time they ordered their meals, there was no sign at all of how shaken she’d been by the idea that her sixty-six-year-old mother was dating. Bree had a feeling that when her parents retired to their room, there would be much conversation about her wayward grandmother.