Page 67 of The Knitting Club at Wagtail Ridge

‘She’d enjoy it. But I am still going to take you out for dinner soon. Just the two of us.’

Bree’s heart did a little skip, but she shook her head. ‘Don’t say another word. As of now, you’re my client. Ethics, you know.’

‘But if I’m not paying you?’

He was far too close and his smile was way too appealing. She was struggling to keep her focus on ethics and while she might not be a practising solicitor any more, some rules were so strong, they were hard to break. It was time she left.

‘Ethics is about more than money. Let’s give it a couple of weeks. If this has gone nowhere, I might be persuaded to consider you no longer a client.’ A couple of weeks seemed a very long time. She got to her feet and left before anything more could be said.

Writing the letter didn’t take much time. When she was happy with it, she sent it to Matt, who replied immediately that he was content for it to be sent. Then she picked up the phone and dialled a very familiar number.

‘Fuller and Johnston. How may I help you?’ Her former assistant sounded as efficient as always.

‘Ken, is there any chance you want to do one more paralegal job for me?’

‘Bree? It’s good to hear from you. How are you? How’s life on the farm?’

‘I’m fine, thanks. Life on the farm is great. And you?’

‘We all miss you around here.’

She missed some aspects of her old life too. ‘Ken, I have a letter I need sent. On the firm’s letterhead. Apparently I’m still on the books as an associate, so it’s okay.’

‘Sure. Anything you need.’

‘Okay. Stand by. I’m emailing the letter now.’ She hit send.

‘And I’ve got it.’ Ken asked a couple of questions about what Bree needed done and promised it would go this afternoon.

After thanking him and hanging up, Bree went back outside. Maggie had taken the day off, so the place was silent as she approached the paddock. She could see her girls, some grazing, some dozing in the sun. As always, her lips curved into a smile.

‘Hello, girls. How are you? Are you looking for some company?’

Obviously not. One or two cast a glance at her, but otherwise they ignored her, holding their heads high and their faces turned away with that look of superiority and disdain that alpacas do so well.

Bree shook her head. The girls might not be in the mood for company, but she was. For the first time since moving to The Gums, she felt lonely.

And why was that? This was all she had ever wanted, a place like The Gums. A life marked by freedom, not rules and laws. The only demands on her were those of the animals she had chosen to have, not judges and clients and other lawyers. She had friends in Wagtail Ridge. Or, if not friends yet, people who were fast becoming friends. Her business was still in its infancy, but so far was going to plan.

So why was she feeling deprived of human company?

Was it intellectual? Perhaps writing the letter had brought her back to the challenges of the law. She’d always been good at meeting those challenges head on and enjoying the intellectual thrust and parry of courtrooms. Surely she wasn’t missing that.

Perhaps it was something else. Something to do with her new and only client.

She liked Matt. No—more than liked. She was drawn to him. She admired the father he was to Vicki. She sympathised with the grief he obviously still felt for Kim. She admired the honest way he conducted his business, small though it was, compared to the sleazy behaviour she’d seen over and over again in courtrooms. His was possibly the most open and honest face she had ever seen. She liked the way he too had found peace and comfort walking with her, leading an alpaca through the bush. She loved the way he’d joined in the knitting club.

Loved?

No. She didn’t love him. She couldn’t love someone she’d only known for a couple of months. Couldn’t love someone she’d only kissed a handful of times. But those kisses … They had meant something to her. And to him, perhaps. But it could go no further while she was acting on his behalf.

There was something not right about this suit. She was more than willing to believe that Sally was overreacting. Some solicitors would be happy to feed her fantasy and take the money, but the contents of that letter would never be enough for a court to remove a child from her father’s care.

Was there something else that Matt hadn’t told her? He’d seemed hesitant when she asked and that wasn’t him.

The sound of an engine approaching down the driveway interrupted Bree’s thoughts and she looked up. The van from the spinners was about to deliver the yarn from the first fleeces collected here, on her own property. She hurried to meet it, longing to hold those first skeins of yarn and know that her dream was coming together.

And maybe when this business with Sally was done, she might permit herself another dream as well.

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