Chapter Twelve
Mother Nature had certainly been generous over the weekend. Sunday was another perfect day where the golden sunshine tempered the crisp bite of the late winter air.
Not that winters in Australia—even in the southern state of Victoria—could rival the snowy conditions Sarah had experienced in New York. Here she found the chill bracing, invigorating rather than limiting. Having been shooed out of the cellar by an insistent David, Sarah had decided to take a stroll around the peaceful vineyard on her own. Or at least she would have been on her own if Buster and Keaton hadn’t insisted on accompanying her.
Sarah grinned as she watched the two canines chase each other around the vines. Having lived in apartments for several years now, Sarah had thought she’d gotten used to not having a dog. But the antics of the two border collies brought her a kind of contented peace she hadn’t noticed she’d been lacking. She’d missed having a pet to share her secrets with. Thinking of David, Sarah admitted she’d missed having a man in her life too.
That wasn’t entirely true. It wasn’t the lack of male companionship that had created hollowness inside. It was the absence of hope. When her first engagement ended, Sarah had been devastated. She’d been so completely, blindly in love with Travis. Brent’s infidelity hadn’t hurt nearly as much by comparison because she’d not invested as much of herself in that relationship. She’d gone into it with greater wisdom and less optimism—less hope. When that attempt at commitment ended in disaster as well, Sarah barely had an ounce of faith left. She’d given up the dream of being loved for herself, of finding that one person who understood her, who truly saw her and not her family money.
Or at least she’d thought she’d eschewed that fantasy. Apparently, she was still capable of believing in foolish dreams. Because she couldn’t shake the growing belief that what she’d started with David deserved a chance to turn into something permanent.
“Crazy, Sarah,” she muttered to herself. “You are certifiably mad to think there’s a happy ever after here.”
Even as she spoke, a smile tugged at her lips. So maybe she was certifiable. She was talking to herself, after all. Did it matter? Wasn’t being crazy and blissfully happy better than being sane and miserable? Being with David made her happy. Being made love to by him…wow. How could she possibly give him up?
Halting her strides, Sarah assessed the verdant land surrounding her, the vast sky so intensely blue it almost hurt the eyes. Why would she leave all this forever to go back to a life that lacked color and joy?
Something bumped into her leg and Sarah glanced down to find Keaton staring up at her. Smiling, Sarah scratched him behind the ears, pleased when he leaned closer to her, encouraging the contact. Even Keaton had warmed up to her. Kerri Sayers had yet to thaw but Sarah wasn’t worried about the other woman anymore. The last two days had proven that David’s relationship with her was purely platonic. He never looked at Kerri the way he did at Sarah, as if he wanted to eat her alive. And the way the woman lit up when her husband Phil walked into the room made it obvious seductive intentions had never been Kerri’s focus where David was concerned.
“Perhaps I’ll turn her around too, eh, Keaton?” Sarah mused. “We’ll have to get along if I’m going to be coming here more often. Commuting is doable, it’s only an hour from the city. I could make it most weekends.”
She thought of the mound of paperwork that would be waiting for her when she got back to the office tomorrow, the reams of phone messages, and wondered if she really could sneak off to the country all the time and still keep on top of her job.
Then she thought of David, of the heat and affection in his dark irises as he merged his body with hers, of the way his eyes crinkled at the corners when he laughed. There had to be a way to make it work. Never seeing David again did not present an acceptable outcome.
Somewhere along the way, she’d fallen head over heels for the man.
Abruptly, Keaton barked once then took off at a dead run in search of his playmate, who led them now by several hundred yards. Sarah pushed on, her heart beating out a rapid tattoo as her revelation sank in. She was in love with David.
Up ahead, Keaton ran around Buster, circling the other dog and barking animatedly. Something about the tone of his yaps caused the hairs on Sarah’s nape to stand on end, making her push aside her swirling David-related emotions for now. Buster’s stance was one of hyperalertness, his head still and his hackles raised.
Sarah increased her pace. “Buster, what is it, boy?”
He’d found himself another stick. That was the first thing Sarah thought when she saw the long brown streak lying in the grass. But as she drew nearer she realized the stick was moving—slithering. A shiver of revulsion assailed her, cold, immobilizing fear chasing it down her spine.
She’d heard all the stories, of course. Australia was full of venomous creatures hiding behind every doorway, waiting to sink their teeth or fangs into you. David had even warned her to check her shoes before putting them on, especially if they had been left outside for any length of time. She’d half hoped he was joking about the possibility of spiders. She’d never had a single scary-creature encounter in Melbourne.
But this wasn’t Melbourne and the snake raising its head with intent to strike was no joke. Sarah stared in horror, too terrified to utter a word of warning to the dog. The snake made a hissing sound that scraped along her nerves like fingernails on a blackboard.
The next happened in flurry of movement. Buster leaped at the snake, latching on to it with his teeth and shaking it from side to side. The noise was horrendous, hissing and snarling overlaid by Keaton’s furious barking. Sarah shrieked, at least she thought she did, as Buster fought with the snake, his hunting instincts turning him from a playful pet to a wild animal. Sarah had no idea if the snake was a venomous variety, if Buster would be bitten or if he already had been. Afraid of doing the wrong thing, she could only stare at the scene before her and do absolutely nothing.
In what seemed like minutes but was probably no more than ten seconds, Buster stopped shaking his head. Panting, he dropped the snake on the ground. He nudged it with his nose, mystified as to why his moving stick had gone completely still.
Relief tempered some of Sarah’s panic. He’d killed it. A deep red gash encircled the snake’s body where it lay lifeless on the grass. But Sarah had no idea if it had managed to strike Buster at some point throughout their life-and-death tussle. The dog appeared unaffected but how could a person tell? How long did it take for snake venom to take effect?
“H-here, Buster. Here boy.” Sarah stammered the command, her voice weak. Not surprisingly, Buster ignored her. She tried again, forcing more stridency into her tone. “Here, boy, now. We need to go find David.”
It took several attempts for Sarah to attract the dog’s attention away from his prize but eventually both Buster and Keaton followed her hurried steps. By the time she reached the storage building, Sarah was running. “David!”
David emerged almost immediately, concern on his face. “What’s wrong?”
“There was a snake,” she panted. “Buster killed it. I don’t know if it bit him.”
Cursing, David turned his attention to the collie. “Mate, I told you to stay away from those little buggers.”
He scratched the dog’s ears, calming the animal as he searched his fur, presumably for fang marks. He peered into Buster’s eyes before glancing up at Sarah. “Did you bring it with you?”
“What?”
“The snake. You said he killed it.”
Sarah stared at him in horror. “Are you joking?”
David held up his hand. “Never mind. Just tell me what sort it was.”
Did he think she’d done a course in snake identification before being admitted into the country? Given the circumstances, that probably wasn’t a bad idea, something the Australian authorities ought to consider for all incoming visitors. “How should I know what sort it was?”
He pushed out a sigh, having the nerve to sound exasperated. “What color was it?”
Sarah recalled her first sighting of the slithering creature, remembered thinking it was a stick. “Brown.”
“Ah, shit.”
“Brown’s not good?”
“Definitely not. I can’t see any obvious marks but his fur could be hiding them. I better get him to the vet.”
“I’ll come with you.”
Sarah started to lead Buster toward the shed where David kept his four-wheel drive but David shook his head. He bent down to scoop the dog up in his arms. “If he has been bitten, he shouldn’t be walking around. It’ll only spread the poison faster.”
Guilt caused Sarah’s flesh to burn. She’d made Buster walk all the way from the other side of the vineyard. What if she’d made his condition worse? She’d never felt so inept in all her life.
David raced to let Kerri know what had happened while Sarah climbed into the passenger side of David’s dust-coated truck. She held Buster close beside her. Not to be left out of a road trip, Keaton settled himself in the backseat.
David returned and jumped in behind the wheel. “Kerri’s calling the vet. He’ll be ready for us when we get there.” Then he took off down the driveway to the sound of crunching gravel.
They weren’t far from the property when Sarah noticed something that made her heart sink. “He’s drooling. Should he be drooling this much?”
David glanced at Buster, his expression tense. “He’s frothing at the mouth. Ah, you crazy mutt. He bit you, didn’t he?”
“I didn’t know.” To her dismay, her voice came out sounding whiny.
“Didn’t know what?”
“About the snake. What sort it was. How to stop Buster from grabbing it. I didn’t realize making him walk would make the venom act faster. I didn’t know anything!”
“Of course you didn’t—you’re a Yank.”
Not in the mood for his lame teasing, Sarah shot David a glower. “I stood there and did nothing while he was bitten.”
“You can’t blame yourself. It’s a bit early for brown snakes, we don’t usually have to be on the lookout until spring.”
Like the season would have made a single bit of difference. “I’m not from this country, I don’t know all your crazy rules. Watch out for poisonous snakes in spring, shake out your shoes before you put them on. And whatever you do, don’t go swimming in the ocean or a man-eating shark will swallow you whole!”
David’s laughter did nothing to settle Sarah’s rising hysteria. “Come on, Sarah. A great white would more than likely only take a chunk out of your leg. Besides, do you see a beach around here?”
“I can’t believe you’re being like this.”
“Like what?”
“So calm. So easygoing. You’re making jokes. Aren’t you worried about Buster?”
David scowled. “Of course I am. But the vet will have antivenin, so there’s a good chance we can save Buster if we make it there quick.”
“And if we don’t make it fast enough?”
“We will. But if we don’t…” David took one hand off the wheel to rub Buster’s ears. There was affection yet fatalism in the gesture and for some reason it chilled Sarah’s bones. “Hell, these things happen. It’s a part of life around here.”
Sarah fixed her attention on the scenery passing quickly by her window. They were talking about his pet, his loyal companion. Buster might die and all he could say was these things happen? She murmured, sounding a tad fatalistic herself, “It’s not part of my life.”
“What are you talking about?”
Sarah remained silent, staring out the window and stroking Buster’s coat. What an idiot she’d been, strolling around as if she hadn’t a care in the world, actually contemplating a relationship with David. How could she have completely forgotten she didn’t belong here? She was a city person through and through. As a Yank she wasn’t even from this country. Her stay in Australia was open-ended but she’d never considered it to be permanent. What had she thought would happen—that David would ask her to marry him? That she’d leave her home country forever?
For a man who didn’t even get upset when his dog’s life was threatened?
These things happen. Had that been David’s attitude when his ex had left? During yesterday’s conversation she’d gotten the impression he hadn’t put in a big effort to make her stay. Was that because he simply didn’t care enough to bother? He had his winery, the life he wanted. What else did he need? Any woman who became involved with him would have to fit in or risk being superfluous. She’d have to be the type who knew to avoid snakes, who could cook and clean and be part of this community. Kerri’s attitude alone told Sarah she wasn’t likely to be welcomed into the close-knit fold that David was a part of.
And if Sarah couldn’t fit in here, how long could she realistically expect a relationship with David to last? She didn’t think she could stand letting this thing drag on if it was destined to end from the start. She was already too emotionally invested. She was nearly in tears about a canine she’d only known two days. If she tried to pursue a relationship with David and it didn’t work, she might fall completely apart.
“The vet surgery’s just up ahead. Not long now.” David gripped her shoulder in a comforting gesture. “He’s going to be fine, Sarah.”
Sarah looked down at Buster, who was beginning to appear listless. The saliva around his mouth appeared to have multiplied. “Sure,” she replied, hoping it was true. That Buster would survive and live a long and happy life at Windy Valley. He belonged there.
She, however, did not.
…
“He’s going to make it.” The veterinarian’s announcement sent relief free-falling through David. He’d done his best to keep it together while Buster had been on the examining table but the truth was he adored the daft mutt.
Being that Buster and Keaton were working dogs, David knew better than to get too attached. Today’s events reminded him exactly why. But he’d brought them both home as pups from the same litter soon after he’d moved to Windy Valley, and Uncle Fred’s trusty canine Scruff had died not long after his owner. The collies had stayed up with him late at night from the beginning, when he’d struggled to balance the winery’s books. They’d kept him company in the lonely days after Melissa left. If David had lost Buster to a snakebite he would have been seriously cut up about it.
“Thanks.” David sighed, giving Dr. Shaw a grateful smile and a laconic understatement. “I really didn’t want to lose him today.”
“No problem. Luckily we had the antivenin on hand and you guessed right that the snake was an Eastern brown. But I would like to keep the fella overnight for observation.”
David made arrangements to pick Buster up the following day and gave the dog a heartfelt hug before leaving the vet’s office. Outside, he found Sarah crouching beside his truck, displaying much the same affection toward Keaton.
The sight of her slammed into him as it did each time he encountered her. The late-afternoon sun slanted across the car park, sending shafts of golden orange through her blonde tresses. All weekend she’d left her hair loose the way he liked it. The memory of how those locks had tickled his chest as she kissed her way down his body last night had his loins firing despite the stress of the past hour. Nothing could temper his strong reactions, both physical and emotional, to Sarah Harrington.
Perhaps sensing how intensely his inspection focused on her, Sarah turned to meet his eyes. She shot instantly to her feet, her lips parted. David answered her question before she could ask it. “He’s going make it. He won’t be fetching sticks for a while but he’ll pull through.”
Her relief was obvious. “I’m so glad. I don’t know how I could have lived with myself if he died.”
“Hey, none of this was your fault.” Touching her cheek, David gave her a reassuring smile. “I don’t blame you. No one can predict what a snake’s going to do.”
“Especially not a Yank, right?” Her acidic tone warned him that he might have gone too far with that particular jibe.
“I was only teasing before, trying to lighten the mood.”
The arch of her brow was sardonic. “Well done.”
David dropped his hand from her face and shoved it into his front pocket to pull out his car keys. “I appreciate how much you care about my dog but there’s no reason to be so upset. Why don’t we head back home? I’ll light a fire, fix us something to eat—”
“It’s not my home.”
David’s heart skipped a beat, making him slightly ill. He’d known this was coming. It was Sunday afternoon, time for Sarah to head back to Melbourne. He’d begun to hope she might stay another night but he was getting the distinct impression that optimism had been precipitous. Her stance and the chill in her voice didn’t bode well.
Giving him a level stare, Sarah repeated, “This is not my home.”
“It could be.”