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Authors: Fiona Palmer

Family Farm (28 page)

BOOK: Family Farm
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‘Where you are is where I went through. It’s about chest height at its deepest point,’ she replied.

Will nodded and slowly started to walk into the rushing path of the water. He inhaled deeply as the icy water poured into his boots. At least his feet were protected from the unknown things that could be lurking below. Lots of old rusty tins and glass bottles would be swept from clumps of bush, which were used as farmers’ rubbish tips. The water rose up past his knees and goosebumps made the hairs on his arms stand up. Further in he walked, fighting the force of the water that pushed against him. The bottom of the gully was rough under foot, making it hard work. The deepest part of the gully rose up and he had to stretch to keep his head above water. So much for it being shoulder height! How long had it been since Izzy had waded through? The water level began to drop as he moved up the bank to the other side.

‘That wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be,’ he said, his wet boots squelching towards Izzy and the flinching ram.

‘Yeah, but imagine doing that on the way back with a frantic ram. Not my idea of a cuppa tea.’ Izzy looked up at Will curiously. ‘What are you doing here, anyway?’

‘Ah … well, you see … your Dad rang me up just to check that you got to my place okay,’ answered Will.

‘Oh, okay … and …’

‘And I covered your arse, yet again. You seriously didn’t think you could do this on your own, did you?’ he said frankly.

‘Why not? You would have done the same. Why is it when a woman does something like this it’s called stupid, but if a bloke does it it’s heroic?’ she asked. Water dripped from Will’s clothes as he stood still. No comment came from him, and she knew it wouldn’t. Yes, she was well used to this male-dominated world. Izzy raised one shoulder in a half shrug. ‘Well, I thought it was worth a try. We can’t afford to lose this ram, Will. Besides, I can’t have you babysitting me all the time now, can I? You’ve probably got better things to do than hold my hand.’

‘Hanging out with you sure beats spending time with my dad any day. Plus, taking the piss out of you is much more fun,’ Will said with a chuckle, holding out his hand to help her up.

Izzy grabbed a handful of mud before reaching up to take his hand and squishing the mud into it. Will pulled away from her, shook off the excess mud, and planted his now dirty palm right on her backside. It left a perfect brown muddy print.

Raising her eyebrows, hands on hips and a teasing smile on her lips, she said, ‘Have you finished? Can we get on with what we’re here for and work out how to get this stupid ram to the other side of the gully?’

Will just shook his head and smirked before checking out Clyde. ‘How’s he holding up?’

‘Okay, I think. He’s calmed down a bit,’ Izzy said, as she steadied the rope, keeping Clyde still. ‘When I got here there were three of them. I tried to get to Clyde first but he was being a right prick about it. The other two were easy enough. They were more than willing for me to drag them through the water in a headlock. As for Clyde, I think he’s only just realised his predicament and begun to let me close.’

‘I see.’

‘Personally, I’d like nothing better than to see the stubborn idiot drown.’

Will patted the flinching ram on his head. ‘Don’t listen to her, Clyde. She’s a sweet, caring girl, really.’

Together, one on either side of the ram, they walked him to the edge of the gully. They paused and watched the hypnotising water rushing past.

‘So, you’re the hotshot. How do you think we go about this rescue mission?’ she asked, glancing up at Will.

He thought for a moment as he watched the salty foam collect on the bank. The rain was stirring up the salt from the salt lakes and land, causing the water to froth. ‘I think if you go back to the other side and pull from there as I guide him through the creek, we should manage. Sound all right?’

‘Yep.’ Izzy handed over the rope to Will, then slowly half waded, half swam through to the other side again. After threading her end of the rope through the bull bar, using it as a pulley, she secured it around her waist so it wouldn’t slip out of her wet hands.

Slowly and carefully, they guided Clyde into the water. Even larger drops began to fall as the rain got heavier. ‘Bugger. That’s all we need,’ said Izzy, trying to blink away the rain.

Will stepped into the muddy water, pushing the uncooperative ram along with him, as Izzy tightened the rope on the other side. Inch by inch they started the slow process of getting the ram across the flooded gully.

‘How ya coping?’ Izzy bellowed out. Water lashed around Will’s shoulders and splashed in his face. He was at the gully’s deepest point. Clyde would be depending on Will to keep him afloat.

‘It … would be … a shitload easier … if Clyde … would keep his friggin’ legs … out of my … guts,’ Will spluttered, in between gasping for air and spitting out water.

Izzy watched intently as his head bobbed just inches above the water amid the foam. The water level in the gully was rising fast. Being a natural watercourse, it was flowing in from everywhere. A panicked look came into Clyde’s eyes – the hum of the water and the fact he couldn’t touch the bottom were obviously freaking him out.

‘You’re over halfway now, Will,’ Izzy shouted with encouragement.

Coarse fibres from the brown twisted rope ripped at her palms as she struggled with the combined weight of Will and Clyde. Her soaked body leant back and her boots dug deeper into the muddy earth, leaving marks as she heaved on the rope and battled to keep a good solid grip. Quickly she swiped at the rain that was streaming into her eyes before readjusting her grip. Clyde was going ballistic, making so much whitewash it was impossible to see Will. Jumping to the side with a jolt of dread, she tried to see if he was hidden behind the ram. But there was nothing above the water except for the large chunks of foam floating downstream. Will was gone!

Thudding began in her ears as her body started to react, fearing the worst. Quickly, she pulled hard on the rope, dragging Clyde towards the end of the gully. His head bobbed under water a few times, then finally he rose from the turbulent water as he found his footing. Not wanting to waste any more time, Izzy tied the rope off so Clyde wouldn’t get sucked back in. She ran to the edge of the gully and her body froze with fear. Will’s head had become visible, but it was floating just under the surface of the water.


W-i-i-i-ll
,’ she screamed, lunging into the water, her eyes fixed on the back of his head.

There was nothing graceful about the way she splashed past Clyde, whose legs thrashed about like deadly swords as he struggled to climb the steep bank. A quick sting to the back of her shoulder signalled a direct hit from one of his wayward legs. But it was the least of her problems. Her waterlogged boots felt like concrete clogs as she forced her way through the rushing water. She finally reached Will and grabbed his shoulders. She tried to pull him up above the water, but he slipped out of her hands. Something held him under.

Luckily, whatever was holding him had stopped him being swept downstream. Taking a deep breath, Izzy dived below the murky water, her heart pounding out of her chest. Feeling her way down his legs to his feet, she found that his left foot was stuck below a large slimy tree root and wedged into the mud. She grabbed a handful of his jeans and yanked on his leg, trying to pull his foot free from his boot. Bubbles escaped from her mouth as she screamed with her last bit of effort. At last she felt it pull free, as if someone had let go of the other end. With his foot released, she kicked off from the bottom of the gully, pushing Will’s body along with her.

The moment they broke the surface she pulled him across to the edge of the gully. It took all her strength to drag his heavy sodden body up the muddy bank. It took a few goes, as traction was impossible in the sloppy mud.

She didn’t even notice that Clyde had climbed out of the gully to safety. Pushing her wet hair off her face, she leant down and checked if Will was breathing. No breath came out from his blue lips. She felt dizzy. Her numb fingers struggled to find a pulse in his neck, but finally beneath them she could feel blood pump weakly. He was still with her. Thank God.

Fumbling, she checked his airway and then carefully tilted his head back. Pressing her lips to his cold mouth, she started to breathe for him.

Oblivious to the turmoil, the rain kept falling down. It ran along the muddy drag marks, which stretched from Will’s motionless body to the water’s edge.

Izzy’s frozen blotchy fingers shook slightly as they held Will’s nose shut and she breathed for him again and again.

‘Come on, damn you. Don’t you bloody die on me, you bastard,’ she shrieked, finally finding her voice as she pelted him in the chest. ‘Will, get up,’ she yelled again between breaths. ‘I’m not losing you too.’

Tears rolled down her face uncontrollably, irritating her. This was not the time to be weak. Her hand on his chest felt the movement first. He began to cough and splutter into life. Relief overcame her as she helped him onto his side so the water could escape from his mouth. He coughed and groaned as she sat him up. Finally she leant him back on her chest with her legs either side of him, and he gasped for air.

To see his eyes blinking out the rain filled her with indescribable delight. Will held her hand on his chest and laid his head on her shoulder, shutting his eyes. His wet hair stuck in clumps across his face, but he still looked breathtakingly handsome.

‘You’re a bloody idiot, Will Timmins. You know you scared me half to death,’ she said, beginning to cry without warning.

For what felt like hours, they sat in the mud and pouring rain, as water continued to rush past in the gully. Clyde stood quietly nearby, recuperating after crawling his way out, still attached to the rope.

Izzy held Will tight and muttered softly to him. ‘Don’t you
ever
do that to me again? You hear me?’ She had never felt so scared and so out of control. Hell, to think she’d nearly lost him for good. Izzy wasn’t one for praying, but she had never prayed so hard. She’d asked, ‘Please bring him back, please bring him back,’ over and over. And that moment, when he’d coughed … Oh, she’d never felt so thankful.

Slowly Izzy felt the coldness seep through her body, as the adrenaline died down and she was forced to her senses. ‘Come on. Let’s get you warmed up before hypothermia sets in.’

She helped him up and put his arm over her shoulder to guide him to her ute, but he had recovered well and was supporting most of his weight. Once Will was in the ute she untied Clyde, who seemed quite happy watching all the commotion, and made sure he was safe from any further danger. Leaving the ram and Will’s ute behind, she drove to his house in silence, too shocked by the events to say anything. There was no way she was going to take him to her place. Her dad would have a fit. Besides, Will just needed a rest from the shock of it all. He’d be fine.

At his house, they pulled off their wet and heavy jumpers, boots and socks, leaving them on the verandah before heading inside. Izzy kept her arm around Will’s waist, half trying to support him and the other half being too afraid to let him go. He pointed Izzy towards the bathroom, then pulled out a towel for her and placed it on a chair by the bath before turning around to face her.

‘How are you feeling?’ she asked.

‘Not too bad, just cold and tired.’ Will began to unbutton his shirt, normally a simple task, but too hard with his shaky hands. ‘God, I can’t stop sh-shaking,’ he stammered. Izzy put her hands over his and gently pushed them aside.

‘Here, let me.’

He just watched, exhausted, as one by one she slowly undid his buttons, her fingers cold and sluggish, but at least steady. As she finished, he gingerly pulled off his shirt, revealing a large, reddish mark on his chest below his shoulder. It just happened to resemble a ram’s hoof.

‘Ouch,’ said Izzy, screwing up her face. She raised her hand and touched him gently just under the point of the mark, which was already beginning to bruise.

Will lifted his hands, instinctively holding her hand to his chest. The thud of his heart pulsed through her palm. His skin was tight and hard from the cold.

Will waited until Izzy lifted her head, so he knew he had her full attention. ‘Thank you for saving my life, Izzy. I owe you one, big time.’ He said it softly and sincerely, hoping she understood how grateful he was.

‘You don’t owe me anything. You saved my dad, don’t forget. If anything, we’re square,’ Izzy said firmly. Drawing her hand away, she looked down at her feet. Her wet clothes were dripping and the water was pooling in the grooves of the tiles. ‘I couldn’t stand it if I lost you too,’ she mumbled.

Will put his hand on her shoulder and pulled her in close against his body. Izzy nestled into his arms and rested her head against his naked chest. It felt so safe and comfortable.

‘Izzy, you’re bleeding.’ Will brought his bloodied hand away from her shoulder. Tugging at her collar, he tried to see the cut but her shirt was too tight.

Izzy unbuttoned her shirt and gently peeled it away. ‘Is it bad? I can’t see a thing,’ she said, craning her neck around as far as it would go. ‘Here, use this.’ Izzy gave Will her wet shirt.

Carefully he wiped away the blood on her shoulder to reveal a nasty gash. It was only then that Will realised that she was standing there in nothing but her wet jeans and a black bra. The water dripped from her hair, down her neck and between her breasts. He cleared his throat and tried to bring his attention back to the cut. ‘It’s a bit deep, but I think I have some butterfly clips left,’ he said with a gravelly voice.

With that, he strode from the bathroom to where he kept the first aid kit and returned with three bandaids in his hand. His strength had come back to him in his concern for Izzy. Using a damp towel, he cleared away as much blood as he could. He hooked his little finger under the strap of her bra, moved it across her shoulder, and began to stick on the butterfly clips. It took all his effort to do the job right, especially with her so close.

‘These should work a treat. They’re just as good as stitches,’ he mumbled.

BOOK: Family Farm
2.87Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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