Page 25 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

Liv clears her throat. My gaze darts up to meet her face, her glossy lips pursed.Sprung.

I rub at the back of my neck. “I should probably get you home. Got a lot of work to do.”

“Yeah, I’ve got some prep to do for next week. And laundry. I’ve got to find myself something to wear for the Anzac Day march in the morning.” She chuckles. “So yeah, a wild day ahead.”

“You’re doin’ the march?”

“Yes, with the school. We encourage it, but not all students come along. It’s important they understand what previous generations fought for, so we can enjoy the freedom we have today.”

I’ve never missed a march since I was born. To find out this is important to her makes me like her all the more. “Sure is.”

Conversation continues light and almost effortless as I drive her home.

“What’s that?” Liv says pointing to a dark shadow on the side of the road.

“Ah, bugger.” A stiff wombat comes into view, on its back, legs paralysed in place. I drive up closer and pull onto the side of the road.

“Oh, no,” Liv says and makes a tutt-tutt-tutt noise. “It’s not the first time I’ve seen one around here. It breaks my heart.”

I whip off my seat belt, chuck my hat in the back, and retrieve the can of red spray paint from the glove box. The animal is big, so I’d say it’s a female. “Back in a sec.”

I jog over to the animal and check the pouch.

Dang. There’s a joey. I hope we got to it in time.

I pull my T-shirt over my head and free the joey, wrapping it up in my shirt, its nose peeking out. The shivering animal to my chest, I shake the spray can and ink a cross on the mother to signal that the pouch has been checked.

“Oh, my God,” Liv says from behind me. “He’s tiny.”

He probably weighs about a kilo, so that’s some comfort. I hope the cold overnight hasn’t taken its toll. “We’ll take him to the vet up the road to check him over. Hopefully, they can get in touch with someone from wildlife rescue to take care of him. Or her.”

I turn to walk back to the car, Liv’s hungry gaze roving over my naked chest.

She clears her throat and meets my eyes. “I’ll hold it while you drive?”

She’s hands-on, I like it. Not afraid to help out even though we’re dealing with a wild animal. “Sure, thing. Hold him close for warmth.”

When we get in the car, I turn off the radio. “We need to keep quiet so he doesn’t get distressed,” I whisper.

“Okay,” she whisper-growls and winks. “I got it. No sudden movements.”

I drive a little slower in the direction of the vet, avoiding potholes, trying to keep the Ute steady.

“Hey, little buddy.” Liv’s soft voice fills the silence, causing a rush of goosebumps over my skin. She tugs my shirt over the animal’s eyes and brings it closer to her chest. “You’re gonna be okay. We’ve got you.”

She turns to me, eyes bright, full of hope. She’s a natural. A born protector. The way she looks at me stirs something within my chest, something I haven’t let myself feel for fear of the past. What it’d be like to have someone, to maybe one day have a family of my own.

I smile at the thought of what that might look like. If Liv and I could work.

“Thank you for stopping,” she whispers, returning her gaze to the bundle.

If only she knew I’d stalk the highways looking for animals to save if it meant spending more time with her.

“No dramas. Just pisses me off that no one else had.” The mother would’ve likely been hit late last night. If it was a semi-trailer though, those blokes don’t generally stop, as they’re on tight deadlines.

“Well, lucky for this little one that you did.”

The way she stares at me has me believing I’m a goddamn superhero. Invincible.

I’ve a right mind to pull this car over and kiss her senseless. I ignore the vision of her lips against mine, hands fisting my shirt to draw me close.

First, there’s a little wombat that needs some TLC.

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