Head First (Quinn Brothers Book 1) Page 3

  She’d tidied away all her grandfather’s more personal effects, too, throwing out those that were too old or worn and putting the rest aside to donate to a charity shop. There wasn’t a lot that was worth keeping. He’d worn his clothes until they were threadbare and then some.

  She’d concentrated her major effort on the house itself. The floors were swept and vacuumed, the woodwork was dusted, the linen and blankets had been washed, and the ancient bathroom was as clean as a severe scrubbing could make it. As for the kitchen, she had spent an entire three days scrubbing every inch of the place until every surface gleamed. No more surviving on cheese and crackers and raw carrots because she couldn’t bear to think of her food touching anything in that filthy kitchen. Tonight it was clean, and she was going to cook herself a decent meal for the first time in what seemed like forever. She was hungry enough to go catch one of those sheep of hers and turn it into a succulent roast dinner.

  “Oi. You awake?”

  She jerked awake with a start as something poked her side and scrambled hurriedly to her feet.

  A craggy, unkempt older man stood over her, his foot still half-raised to nudge her with his muddy gumboot again. His woolen hoodie—what was it with these New Zealand men and their woolen hoodies? They all seemed to wear exactly the same one—was stained and blackened with grease and smoke and she hated to think what else. He had the swollen red drinker’s nose with large pores that she recognized from the older partners in her PR firm who were known to like their scotch neat, and his eyes were bleary and bloodshot.

  “Who are you? What do you want?” she demanded, her voice shrill. How dare he come onto her property and kick her in the stomach with his smelly old boot like she was some sort of an animal.

  “The name’s Nate. I manage this place.” Her skin crawled as he looked her up and down, his gaze lingering on her breasts and her crotch with insulting obviousness. “And who would you be?”

  “Alexis. I own this place.”

  He scratched himself impolitely. “So, you’re Bert’s girl. Can’t say as I see any resemblance. City girl, aren’t you.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “New York City. Lower Manhattan.”

  “And American. Hmmmph.” She had never known a grunt could carry such a feeling of derision. “Come to take over the farm, have you?” And he burst into a hearty cackle of laughter at the idea, slapping his hand against his thigh. His merriment ended in a phlegmy cough and he spat on to the ground beside him, uncomfortably close to Alexis’s bare feet.

  “Yes, I have.” She stared straight at him, her face cold. “And where have you been all week? I haven’t seen you around.”

  “In the fields,” he answered shortly. “Lambing.”

  Drinking, more like it. He emanated a definite odor of stale beer and cigarette smoke, like a nightclub on the morning after.

  Her disbelief must have showed on her face.

  “You want me to show you?” he asked nastily.

  “Good idea. I’ll just put on some shoes and you can take me around the farm.”

  The dismay that passed over his face at having his bluff called was truly comical. “Now?”

  She ostentatiously consulted her watch. “It’s only two o’clock. There’s plenty of time before it gets dark.”

  “We keep early hours here,” he grumbled. “I was just headed home.”

  She stared at him and waited.

  “Ewes don’t like to be disturbed when they’re lambing.”

  “Then we’ll just look at them from over the fence.”

  “If you insist…”

  Early on in life she’d learned the power of saying nothing. It worked like a charm. After a few more minutes of shuffling, throat clearing and black looks, he finally gave in. “Get your shoes then.”

  Score to Alexis. She was wise enough not to let a hint of triumph show on her face as she hurriedly laced her shoes and joined him on the gravel drive.

  A rusty pickup was parked on her driveway. The source of the oil leaks on the gravel, no doubt.

  Nate gestured to it with his thumb. “We’ll take my truck.”

  She could see the fast food wrappers littering the passenger seat and shuddered. “I’ll follow in my car.”

  He made a pointed glance at her rental car and snickered. “Bad idea. We’re going off-road.”

  “Do we really need to?” She so didn’t want to set foot in his disgusting old truck. She’d have to shower afterwards and wash her clothes with bleach before she felt clean again. Besides, she wasn’t entirely sure that he was quite sober.

  “Do you want to see the farm?” he countered. “No roads where we’re going.”

  Checkmate.

  Two minutes later, she found herself hanging onto the dashboard for dear life as the truck bumped its way up the hill and through a series of farm gates, each of which Nate demanded gruffly that she open and then shut behind them again.

  They were nearly at the top of the ridgeline when Nate stopped the truck and gestured for her to get out. Just beyond the fence was an idyllic scene. Scores of fat sheep stood in the field, lazily cropping grass. Here and there she spotted a tiny baby lamb. These were much more energetic than their placid mothers, jumping and almost dancing on their spindly legs. For a moment she forgot she was supposed to be a farmer. “They look soooo cute. Can I pet one?”

  He guffawed. “Can’t disturb ewes when they’re lambing.”

  She hung over the gate and watched them play for a few minutes.

  “Seen enough?”

  She made her way reluctantly back to the truck. “Are they all girl sheep in there?”

  “Ewes.”

  “Where do you keep the boy sheep? Can I pet one of those?”

  “Rams. Only got two. Field far side of the barn.”

  “Let’s go there next, then.”

  He shrugged. “It’s your funeral.”

  She got back into the truck, too excited at the thought of being able to pet a real live sheep to be worried about his bad temper.

  The barn was a hive of activity. A lanky farmhand gave her a wave as he headed out on a quad bike while another young lad who looked like he was still in his late teens spread out some pellets for a handful of nursing ewes and their lambs, who were huddled in the far corner of the yard.

  A trio of black and white dogs locked in a kennel barked noisily as she got out of the truck. “Oooh, cute dogs,” she squealed, kneeling down to look at them. “Can I let them out to play?”

  “They’re working dogs. Not pets,” was the surly answer.

  She heaved a sigh. Wasn’t there a single pet on this farm? “Where are the boy sheep?”

  He gestured with a shrug of his shoulder. “Over there. Get some sheep nuts off the lad.”

  The lad, whose name turned out to be Trevor, but went by Trev, gave her a plastic container of pellets with a sly smile. “Sheep nuts. They go nuts for them.”

  Plastic container in hand, she carefully climbed over the fence and shook the nuts. “Here, sheepy sheepy. Come and get some nice sheep nuts. Nom nom nom.”

  One of the rams ambled up to her and stuck his nose in the container. “Good sheepy,” she crooned as she rubbed her hand on its head. His coat was springy, and coarser than she had imagined it would be.

  He soon snaffled all the sheep nuts and started nosing around for more. “No more sheep nuts, Mr. Sheepy. All gone.”

  The ram pushed his nose against her legs with displeasure and then stuck his nose back into the container.

  She tipped it upside down to show him that it was empty. “All gone,” she repeated.

  The ram pulled away from her and backed up a dozen paces and looked at her consideringly for a moment. Then it put its head down and charged.

  Taken completely by surprise, Alexis went sprawling. Before she knew what had happened, she found herself head first in the dirt.

  She sat up, a little dazed from hitting the ground hard with her head.

  Bad move
.

  The ram backed up, pawed the ground with one front hoof and charged again, knocking her down again.

  Behind her she could hear gales of laughter from Nate and Trev.

  “Get this sheep off me,” she screamed, as she got to her feet and promptly had to sidestep quick smart to dodge another charge.

  “He wants more sheep nuts,” Nate called, and burst into more wheezy laughter.

  “I told you he went nuts for them,” Trev added.

  She didn’t answer. She couldn’t. All her energy was focused on avoiding each new charge that the ram made at her, while trying to angle herself closer to the gate so she could scramble over it to safety.

  Then, finally, she heard the rattle of more sheep nuts in a plastic container. The ram pricked up his ears, then lowered his head as if to charge at her again.

  She tensed, ready to leap away as soon as he made his move.

  Another rattle of sheep nuts.

  The ram raised his head, turned his back to her and trotted happily away from her to the promise of sheep nuts.

  She sidled backwards uneasily, unwilling to let him out of her sight in case he attacked her again.

  As soon as he was far enough away, she turned and sprinted for the gate, hurtling over it in record time and collapsing on the far side in sheer relief at her escape.

  Nate and Trev were still in stitches over her nasty accident when, to her embarrassment, Mason came storming up, an empty plastic container in his hand.

  Mason was her rescuer? She’d thought her situation couldn’t get any worse than being bruised and scared and shaken and covered in a smelly mix of mud and sheep poop. Having Mason see her like this was infinitely worse. She wanted to crawl into a hole in the ground and never come out again. It felt like the disastrous work function all over again. Well, maybe not quite that bad.

  “Not funny, mates,” Mason growled at the pair of them. “You know how aggressive rams can get. She could’ve been badly hurt.”

  Trev had the grace to stop laughing and look rather sheepish, but Nate kept chortling away. “She thought he was a pet,” he kept on saying, as if this was the funniest thing he had heard all year. “She thought he was a pet.”

  Mason offered Alexis his arm to get up. “Just shut up, Nate. Stop being such a dickhead,” he yelled over his shoulder.

  “What are you doing here anyway?” Nate asked, finally gaining control of himself and wiping his streaming eyes on a dirty sleeve.

  “I came to talk to Alexis. And just in time, too, seeing as you idiots thought it would be funny to see her bowled over by that stupid ram.”

  “Not your farm. Not your business.”

  “Try pulling another one of your little stunts on her and you’ll see just how much of my business it is.”

  Out of the corner of her eye Alexis saw Trev slink off to escape the pending confrontation.

  Nate opened his mouth to say something, then thought better of it and shut it again. He gave her and Mason an evil eye, then shrugged and followed Trev into the barn.

  Mason gave her a hand and helped her to her feet. “Are you hurt?”

  She thought about it for a moment. “Just my pride, mostly,” she admitted. “He was so friendly, and then he just took me by surprise when he rammed me. And my head hurts a bit, I knocked it when I fell.”

  He looked her over, seemingly satisfied that she was not badly injured. “I’ll take you back to the house if you like.”

  “Thanks. I’d appreciate that.” Now that she thought about it, her head really did hurt quite a lot. Besides, she absolutely didn’t want to get into Nate’s truck for a ride back home. She may be a clueless city girl, but she didn’t appreciate the nasty trick he had pulled on her.

  By the time she had bumped her way back down the hill in Mason’s truck, her head was pounding.

  Mason opened the truck door for her and helped her down. “Are you okay? You look pretty awful.”

  She gave a weak smile. “Thanks for the compliment. I’m sure I smell worse.”

  “You do smell a bit like sheep. Lucky for you, I’m used to it.”

  She picked at a bit of mud on the back of her hand. “I can’t wait to climb into the shower and scrub myself off. My face is covered with mud.”

  “I’ve seen worse. Besides, some women pay big money for that. They call it a facial.”

  “I bet their mud isn’t full of sheep poop.”

  “Their loss.” He grinned at her as he fell into step beside her and walked to the front door. “Can I put the kettle on and make you a cup of tea while you clean up? Like I told Nate, I wanted to have a chat with you.”

  Half an hour later, once she’d used up every drop of hot water in the tank washing her hair and scrubbing every inch of herself three times over, she came back into the kitchen.

  Mason was sitting at the table, cradling a steaming mug in his hands. He handed her another cup. “I couldn’t find any gumboot tea, so I brewed up some decent coffee.”

  “Gumboot tea?”

  “Ordinary tea. Nothing fancy. The stuff that tastes like it was brewed up in a pair of gumboots.”

  She sipped her coffee. Perfect.

  “So, have you thought any more about selling the farm?”

  “Not really.”

  He ran his hands through his hair. “I’m not trying to pressure you. I promise. It’s just that…Well, Georgia and me have been working the family farm for Mum and Dad for a few years. We’d like our own place, so we can experiment a bit. Try out a new breed of sheep. Run a few merinos, maybe. Old Bert’s place is perfect. Not too big, and right next door to the rest of the holdings. As soon as you decide to sell, we’d like first option to buy.”

  Georgia was his wife, she supposed. “I was planning to stay for a bit longer.” She’d organized to have six weeks off work. She wasn’t going to be chased away from her adventure early. “I wanted to do some more work on the farm before I made up my mind what to do with it.” She didn’t want to commit one hundred percent to selling it just yet, even if it was the most sensible thing to do financially.

  “You’ve certainly done wonders on the house.” He looked around the kitchen with appreciation. “Old Bert found it hard to manage for the last few years, but he wouldn’t accept any help. He threatened Mum with his shotgun last time she came over with a ginger cake. He was scared she was going to call Social Services or something on him.” He grinned again. “His loss. Mum makes the best ginger cake ever, and we got to eat it instead.”

  “It was pretty filthy. I only just finished cleaning it today. I’ve been living on cheese and crackers all week.”

  “Cheese and crackers? You mean you haven’t cooked a decent dinner all week?”

  “Carrots, too. I ate a few of those.”

  “You are joking, right?”

  “No.”

  “That’s terrible. You must be starving.”

  “Yeah, I’m getting pretty hungry. I was planning to cook myself a decent meal for the first time tonight but…” She glanced at the coal range. “I’ll have to do battle with that beast and my head hurts. I might put it off until tomorrow.”

  Mason got up from the table and opened the door to the coal range dubiously. “I don’t think Old Bert has used this for years. You might want to get the chimney swept before you light a fire in it.”

  Her lovely vision of a home-cooked meal was dissolving before her eyes. She could feel tears pricking her eyelids. She would have a decent meal tonight, if she had to drive all the way to Christchurch to find one.

  “Come around for dinner tonight. Mum is doing a roast. There’ll be plenty for you, too.”

  “I can’t just turn up with no notice.” Not to a semi-stranger’s house, and definitely not to his parents’ house.

  “Nonsense. Mum and Dad would love to meet their new neighbor.”

  She hesitated. After so many days of snack food, the thought of a good home-cooked meal had her salivating. Especially one that she didn’t have to co
ok herself. Even if it was a family dinner that she was intruding on. “I don’t want to be rude.”

  “You won’t be. I’ll text her right now and let her know you’re coming.”

  “If you really think that will be okay.”

  “Sure.”

  Her hunger won out. “Thanks. I’d love to. When do you want me to come over?”

  He looked at his watch. “It’s four now. Come over in an hour. That’ll give me time enough to clean up and help peel the potatoes before you arrive.”

  After he’d gone, Alexis poured herself another cup of coffee, swigged down a couple of painkillers to kill her burgeoning headache, and opened her laptop.

  Despite her brave words to Mason just now, she wasn’t at all sure that she wanted to be here. Maybe it would be easier if she just sold up and hightailed it back to New York with the proceeds. Surely the farm would be worth enough for her to be able to make a small deposit on a tiny apartment in a nice area in Lower Manhattan. She’d always wanted her own place, but it was out of reach on her single salary. She had thought that one day, once they were married, she and James, together, would be able to get one.

  She and James, together.

  She squelched that thought. James had made it clear what he thought about her. His loss, as Mason would say. She had come here to mend her broken heart, not to dwell on her pain.

  After dashing off an email to Phoebe about being attacked by a killer sheep, she did a quick search for local real estate agents. She still didn’t believe that Mason and his wife would be able to afford to buy her grandfather’s place, but there was bound to be a buyer out there somewhere. Someone who liked sheep more than she did.

  Early that evening, Alexis coaxed her rental car up the gravel drive to Mason’s family house. More of a private road, it was wide enough for two cars to pass comfortably, as it wound lazily through sheep fields, framed on either side by tall leafy trees. Flocks of sheep were scattered across the tussocky fields like little white ants. The countryside was so clean and fresh and a stark contrast to the concrete jungle she had always called home.