Page 52 of Whispers of Sweetwater

Feeling a little lighter, a little happier, although not any less antsy, she finished her breakfast then tidied the cottage some more, wiping down the already-clean counters and straightening the throw rug in the lounge even though it wasn’t askew. She checked her vet bag, topping up her hand sanitiser, restocking syringes and double-checking her remaining antibiotic vials. When there was truly nothing else left to fuss over, she rinsed out her coffee cup and set it carefully in the rack, as if neatness might scrub away unrest. She wandered back through the narrow hallway, brushing her fingers along the door frame of the spare room as she passed. The quietness hummed around her, neither friendly nor threatening, just still. As someone who worked with chaos, stillness had a way of making her itch.

Hesitating at the small entry table where her phone sat face down, she picked it up and scrolled to her mum’s name. She missed her, and her dad, so much. To the point of actually feeling homesick.

Nina answered on the third ring. ‘Darling! Hello.’

‘Hey, Mum.’ She couldn’t help her tone being a little flat.

‘Oh, Bri, you sound sad; is everything all right?’

‘Yeah, everything’s okay,’ Brianna said, slumping into the chair at her little kitchen table. ‘I just needed to hear a familiar voice.’

They chatted for a while about nothing – Nina’s new herb garden, her plans to enter a jar of homemade lemon and passionfruit butter in the local show, and her ongoing feud with a neighbour’s overly ambitious rooster. Brianna chuckled through it all, letting the sound of her mother’s voice ease the last of the tightness from her shoulders.

‘I’ve missed this,’ she said softly. ‘Just talking. Everything here’s fine, mostly, but it’s different, you know? I think I’m settling in. But some days feel, I don’t know, maybe bigger than I’m used to.’

‘That’s all part of it,’ Nina replied gently. ‘New rhythms take time. You’ll find your own pace soon enough, Bri, I’m certain of it.’

‘Yeah, I hope so.’ There was a pause before Brianna asked, ‘Is Dad there to say g’day to?’

‘Yes, he is, let me give him a holler.’ The phone muffled. ‘Logan, hon, Bri’s on the phone.’

She heard a shuffling, the sound of a chair scraping.

‘Is that my girl? Tell her I’ve finally fixed that blasted mower. Only took me all morning and a busted knuckle.’ The phone crackled as it was passed over to him. ‘Hello, sweetheart.’

‘Hey, Dad,’ Brianna called, laughing. ‘You always did have a flair for the dramatic.’

‘Runs in the family,’ he shot back.

‘How’s work been? Still pulling long shifts at the station?’

‘Ah, you know the drill,’ Logan replied. ‘We’re short-staffed, and every third shift ends up being a double. But it’s not all bad. I had today off, caught up on mowing, and even managed to squeeze in a coffee and cream bun down at the bakery with your mum.’

‘Living the dream,’ Brianna teased.

‘Hey, these small wins matter more than you think,’ he chuckled. ‘But enough about me, sounds like you’re the one with interesting stories lately.’

Brianna hesitated. For a brief moment, she nearly said it. Nearly said that Molly wasn’t all right, that someone was hurting her, threatening her, and her brother’s debts hadn’t died with her new dear friend. Her father was a police sergeant, after all. If anyone could help, he could. But the words stuck. Molly had trusted her, begged her not to say anything. So she was torn between doing the right thing and doing the kind thing.

‘Nothing too wild,’ she said instead, forcing a brighter tone. ‘Just the usual animal antics.’ She hated how quickly the lie came, so she tried to pivot, saying lightly, ‘Oh, and I’ve made some good friends now, other than my landlord, Molly. Last night I went out for a pub dinner with a married couple, Gavin and Tilly, and their mate, Hayden Pierce. He owns Sweetwater Acres, Gavin works for him, and I look after the horses there, when needed.’

There was a pause on the line.

‘Hayden Pierce, huh?’ Logan repeated slowly. ‘Name rings a bell. I think I met him once. A quiet type? Rode in a couple of charity musters quite a few years back?’

‘That’s likely the one,’ she said, fiddling with a pen on the table as she recalled Hayden’s stories of his mustering years. ‘It’s a small world, hey, Dad.’

‘It sure is, Bri. He seemed like a really decent bloke,’ Logan said, but his tone had shifted slightly. ‘Just … go easy, all right? Small towns can look quiet, and the townspeople can seem harmless, but there’s always history under the surface. People don’t always show you everything straight up.’

If only he knew just how much she’d already found this to be true. ‘I know, Dad. I’m not rushing into anything. He’s just a mate.’ And she firmly told herself this, too.

‘I didn’t say you were rushing. Just trust your gut. And don’t ignore it if something feels off.’

She nodded, even if it made her chest a little tight. ‘I will.’

‘Right then,’ Logan said more cheerfully. ‘I’m off to mow the neighbour’s verge just to annoy his rooster.’

Brianna laughed. ‘Tell it I said good luck.’