The Geography of Happiness (Mackenzie Country)

Chapter 4

CHAPTER FOUR

Spencer

As we approached reception, Sonja glanced up from her computer and her gaze narrowed in response to whatever she saw on my face. I either totally sucked at the whole poker-face thing or she’d caught me checking out Terry’s... assets.

Either way, she immediately gave the guy an appreciative once-over before returning her attention to me like all her questions had been answered. An impish smirk pulled at the corners of her mouth and her eyes gleamed wickedly. “Having a good morning, Boss?”

Hidden from Terry’s view, I bugged eyes at her—not-so-subtle code for Shut. The. Fuck. Up. “Fine, thank you, Sonja.”

Her smirk widened at the obvious warning. The twenty-five-year-old daughter of a sheep station family, Sonja was no shy wallflower. She’d fought hard to find her voice amidst six brothers and a slew of male shepherds and contractors and could hold her own in any argument. She suffered zero bullshit, was as cheeky as they came, and Matt and I couldn’t have run the place without her. Having said that, there was nothing the woman enjoyed more than to put me on the spot. Matt tripped onto her radar on occasion, but it was mostly me she seemed to relish tormenting.

No idea why.

“I thought you’d be long gone,” she said, casting another glance Terry’s way. “But I can see that you’ve been... distracted.”

I skewered her with yet another cautionary glare, but she simply smiled.

Terry, on the other hand, looked positively mortified. “Oh god. I’m so sorry if I held you up. It was all my fault.” He directed the last part toward my soon-to-be-dearly-departed office manager.

Sonja leaped to reassure Terry. “Oh no. Not at all. Our Spencer can be a little chatterbox when you get him going.” She shot me a sunny smile, which I ignored in favour of shuffling papers on the desk.

I was gonna kill her. Slowly.

But Terry continued to apologise and in doing so dug the hole deeper and deeper under my feet. “When Spencer said it was your policy to make sure every animal that stayed here had a name, and that I could choose one, I thought it was a really sweet idea. But since I suck at that stuff, it took me a bit to come up with Miller which then sprouted a whole other conversation—” He shot me a look. “—and I totally lost track of time.”

Oh god. Heat blew up my throat and set fire to my cheeks.

Sonja blinked and turned her needle-sharp gaze slowly back on me. “Oh, our policy , huh?” She was clearly struggling not to laugh, and I began cataloguing the fly spots on the ceiling. “Yes, Spencer is sweet like that. He’s always coming up with warm fuzzy ideas for the clinic.”

I barely contained an eye-roll as I withered under her you-are-going-to-regret-this-forever smirk. “Ignore her,” I told Terry who was looking between us like he knew he was missing something. “Sonja likes to give me a hard time.” I walked behind the counter and accidentally on purpose stood on her foot.

She yipped and slapped me on the bicep. “Ow. You did that on purpose.”

“I have no idea what you mean.” I tapped her computer screen. “Now please ring up the poor man’s bill so he can get on with his day.” I glanced up to find Terry watching our antics with a wide smile in place. “Sorry about this.”

He waved my apology aside. “No need for that.”

Sonja tallied the account while Terry retrieved a credit card from his wallet. Once she’d punched in numbers, she slid the machine toward him and glanced sideways at me. “Before I forget, some guy named Adam wants you to call him. Today . He was quite insistent . ” She sounded far too bright about the fact, and my stomach dropped.

Dammit. Adam had been a recent hookup who’d decided he wanted more—a lot more. I’d tried to be polite, but he wasn’t getting the message. Sonja knew all about it, the little minx, and it didn’t take a detective to figure out why she’d chosen to mention it right then. She was meddling. So while Terry was still occupied with his wallet, I bestowed a glare on my manager and said, “Fine. Leave it to me.”

She licked her lips, and added almost as an afterthought, “Is this the same guy who sent you flowers? The ones you had me throw in the bin?”

I felt Terry’s curious gaze land on me, and I was definitely killing my office manager, very, very slowly. I left her question unanswered and apologised again to Terry. “Sorry. We’re usually more professional.”

Sonja’s mouth curved up in a sly grin. “Well, I am,” she amended, winking at Terry. “Although I do admit I like to give our intrepid veterinarian a hard time. After all, someone has to pop his balloon and bring him back down to where the rest of us mere mortals scrabble in the dirt. It’s the charitable thing to do. He’s far too charming for his own good.”

Terry snorted. “Believe me, this banter is all reassuringly familiar. You two would fit like a glove with my friends back home.”

Sonja handed Terry his receipt and patted his hand. “Then you have my deepest sympathy.” She turned to look me up and down. “I suppose someone has to be their friends, right? Our reward will come.”

Terry barked out a laugh, which popped the dimples on either side of his mouth. Like the man needed any more appeal than he already possessed. Heaven help me.

Terry grinned. “I’ll make sure to pass that on. And now I really do need to go. I’ll leave you my number in case you need anything else for the little guy.” He ferreted a card from his wallet and handed it to Sonja who immediately passed it to me.

Terry raised a brow but said nothing, and Sonja returned the favour with one of my cards, saying, “I’ll make sure Spencer lets you know if he needs anything from you.”

I none-too-gently elbowed Sonja in the ribs but all Terry did was laugh. “ So much like home.”

Which didn’t do anything to appease my confusion about the guy.

He was almost through the clinic door when Sonja called out, “You mentioned staying at Miller Station, right?”

Terry spun around. “Yes. We’re there until next Sunday.”

“Well, fancy that.” Sonja batted her lashes innocently, then shot me a wicked look. “I do believe Spencer is booked in to visit Miller Station this week too, right Spencer? Annual dog check, isn’t it?”

Terry’s gaze shifted to me, which meant I couldn’t flay Sonja where she sat. “I think so, yes.”

Sonja grinned and turned back to Terry. “You should swing by the woolshed or kennels if you’ve got nothing else to do. Check how Miller’s doing and watch the expert at work… and maybe Spencer as well.” She laughed riotously at her own joke, and I decided there was no pain too great for the woman.

Terry’s smile was almost shy. “Yeah, maybe I’ll do that. Thanks again, Spencer.”

I watched him go, then spun to glare at my receptionist. “What the hell was all that?”

She wagged her finger at me. “Come on. I saw your face when you walked him out. You like this guy. You should be thanking me.”

“He’s straight.” I think.

“Pfft.” She began organising the papers on her desk into neat little piles, smiling like she found me hilarious.

“What does that mean? What did you see?” I circled her desk, forcing her to look at me. “And so what if I like him? I like lots of people.”

She looked up. “No. You screw lots of people, Spencer. You don’t like like lots of people. There’s a big difference.”

True . Still. I huffed. “ Like like? Really, Sonja? Are we twelve?”

She ignored the comment. “Honestly, Spence, your bed has clocked up more miles than the clinic truck. It’s about time you switched things up—invest in a quality mattress, improve the thread count of your sheets, try sleepovers that last more than a night. And oh, I know, how about going on a date with someone you actually like like? Yeah, mostly that last one.”

I studied her for a moment, sensing there was more to her words than the obvious, and softened my tone. “I like my life, thank you very much. The men and women I take to my bed are nice people. You don’t have to worry about me.”

“I know they’re nice people.” Her gaze slid back to her computer screen. “You’re not a douche. And I’m not worried. I mean, that would be stupid, right? It would be like you were almost family or something?”

My irritation drained away. “Come here.” I pulled her up from the chair and into my arms for a hug. “I appreciate the concern, but I really am fine.” I released her and stepped back. “And I don’t like like Terry—and Jesus, can we please stop saying that?”

She folded her arms and stared at me a little sadly.

“What?” I asked, frustrated.

She sighed. “You’re forty-two, Spence. You’re a nice guy, if a little weird. You have a great job; you’re okay in bed, or so I’ve heard; your relationship catchment is wider than most, which you’d think would work in your favour; and your looks are... passable.” She bit back a smile. “And yet, nada. Zip. Zero. No boyfriend or girlfriend to speak of in years .”

I narrowed my eyes. “I’m okay in bed? Exactly who have you been talking to?”

She ignored me and barrelled on. “If you keep this up, you’ll end up old, bald, and farting in an empty bed with no one alongside who loves you enough not to care.”

I almost choked. “Wow. That’s... I don’t know what that is, but it’s a lot less than I was hoping for out of my retirement.”

Another raised brow. “It’s really not funny.”

She sounded hurt, and that was the last thing I wanted. I took both her hands and held them to my chest. “Sonja, sweetheart. I love that you care, but I am happy. Besides, there’s plenty of time left if I decide I really do want that someone who’ll put up with my farts when I’m old.”

Her mouth tipped up in a smile. “Idiot.”

I chuckled. “No argument there. So, you can stop worrying, and please, please, stop trying to set me up.”

She pursed her lips and looked at me sideways. “Yeah, nah. Nice speech, mister, but there’s not a snowball’s chance in hell I’m leaving you to your own devices. You’ll end up with some douchebag city slicker who doesn’t know his merino from his Poll Dorset, and you’ll have nothing to talk about. Here—” She slapped a large courier envelope against my chest. “—this arrived while you were busy with Mr Hot and Sexy.”

I groaned. “Please don’t call him that. He’s not like—” I scowled at her triumphant smile. “Damn, how do you do that?”

Sonja laughed. “You’re too easy. And one more thing. Derek rang and I promised him you’d call back. Don’t make a liar out of me with your brother.” She returned her attention to her computer screen, and just like that I was dismissed.

Figuring the smarter option was to do as I was told, I headed into my office, shut the door, and dropped the courier envelope on the desk. From the comfort of my chair, I stared at the university emblem on the front, a tide of emotions rallying in my chest. But first things first. I pulled my phone from my pocket and dialled Derek.

He picked up on the second ring. “Jesus Christ, I should buy a damn lottery ticket. My oldest brother calling me back in under an hour. Has to be some kind of record.”

“Shut up,” I grumbled. “I’m not that bad.” I so fucking was . And I didn’t even understand why.

“You are.” He chuckled. “Worse, if I’m being honest, but who’s keeping score?”

“You, obviously.”

He laughed.

“So, what can I do you for?” I played with the envelope on my desk. “Aren’t you busy in court with that big case all week?”

“We’re on lunch break,” he explained. “I’m standing outside the courthouse as we speak.”

There was something about that scenario that didn’t feel right. Derek was nothing if not singularly focused and rarely called me during work hours. “And you thought you’d call me? I’m all choked up.”

Derek laughed. “Arsehole.”

“I saw you on the news, by the way,” I teased. “You should really ask them to shoot you from your good side. That bump in your nose looks way bigger from the right.”

Derek snorted. “You should know, you put it there.”

“Hey, I was sixteen and you were being a little turd,” I countered. “It wasn’t my fault you tripped on the bottom step and went arse over kite into the calf feeder.”

“With a little help from you,” he pointed out.

“Well, you shouldn’t have eaten the last of the bread then, should you?” I huffed, twirling the envelope in ever larger circles.

“ You were the one who forgot to buy more,” he accused.

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

We dissolved into fits of laughter until I had to wipe my eyes. “Okay, okay, so what’s up? It must be something important for you to squeeze a call in to me, Mister Very Famous and Busy Lawyer.”

He fell unexpectedly quiet at my words, and I felt the first niggle of alarm.

“Derek?”

A sigh broke down the line. “I was wondering if I could come down for a few nights when this case is done?”

I frowned, his question catching me completely off guard. Derek had only visited the Mackenzie once, when he and Kathryn were driving through the South Island on their honeymoon, and that was ten years earlier. What the hell was going on?

When I didn’t immediately respond Derek quickly added, “I get that it might not suit. It was just a thought. We can do it another?—”

“No,” I interrupted. “It’s fine. Of course it’s fine. It’s just a surprise, that’s all. Can I ask if there’s a particular reason behind you wanting to come?”

Derek said nothing for long enough to worry me.

“Are you okay, D?” I used his childhood nickname.

He chuffed affectionately. “God, I haven’t been called that in years.”

“Come on, D?” I pressed. “What’s up?”

Derek hesitated, then blurted, “Kathryn wants a divorce. She sprang it on me last weekend.”

I blinked. “What?” It took a few seconds for his words to sink in. If ever two people were meant to be a couple, I’d have bet my back teeth that my brother and his childhood sweetheart ticked every box. “Jesus, D, what the hell happened?”

When he said nothing, I added in a suspicious tone, “What did you do?”

“Me?” He laughed mirthlessly. “Jesus, Spence, nothing. I did absolutely fucking nothing. She says there’s no one else, that she’s just fallen out of love with me. Two kids and she’s done. Apparently, we weren’t soul mates after all. Go figure.”

“But the kids?—”

“Fifty-fifty custody and every other weekend.”

I gaped. “Christ. You’re serious, aren’t you?”

He huffed dejectedly. “Yep. Imagine how I felt. I just coughed up for a surprise trip to celebrate our tenth anniversary. I was going to give it to her next week. Fuck knows if I can get a refund. How do you feel about Italy?”

“That’s not funny,” I chided.

“It kind of is,” he shot back, making me smile.

“Well, I’m not sharing a bed with you,” I quipped, as much to give me time to process the shock of the news as anything else. “Although I’ve heard Rome is lovely in April.”

He snorted, then went worryingly quiet. “What am I going to do, Spence? I never even saw it coming. I thought we were good, you know? I thought we were going to be that couple, the couple who actually made it all the way. I thought...” His voice broke and his words faded.

I wanted to haul him through the phone and hug him like I’d done when he was a kid and had injured himself. “You’re going to start by coming down here so we can drink way too much and I can tell you a bunch of lies about how I never liked her much anyway.”

Derek chuckled but there was no humour in the sound.

“And then we’re gonna figure out what to do next, okay?”

I caught the sound of a hard swallow and pictured him nodding. “Thanks, Spence. I won’t cramp your style, so you have to promise me you’ll say if I need to make myself scarce so you can... entertain. You know what I mean?”

I huffed in disbelief. Is that what people thought of me? That I’d do an arsehole thing like that. “Well, I’ll have to postpone the mixed ménage à trois I have planned every Saturday, of course,” I teased. “But those guys are flexible. So flexible.” I knew it would make him laugh and it did. “But seriously, D, there’s nothing more important than this, so get your butt down here. Does Mum know?”

He grunted. “What do you think?”

“I’ll take that as a no.” Our mother was hardly the Dear Abby type. Not to mention she’d been less than discreet in slamming the idea of D marrying his high school girlfriend. Their wedding wasn’t exactly a high point for our family. “What about the others?”

He sighed. “I wanted to tell you first. I’ll call Todd and Graham later.”

A familiar twinge of guilt niggled my belly. Our younger brothers hadn’t exactly been champs at keeping in touch over the years, which was mostly my fault. I thought of my conversation with Terry and winced. He was right. It was hard letting go of those old feelings even when they didn’t serve you anymore.

“I can tell them for you if you’d rather?” I offered reluctantly.

“No, it’s fine,” Derek insisted. “I’ll do it.”

When he finally hung up, I sat there a moment, gathering my thoughts. I might not want a long-term relationship for myself, but that didn’t mean I didn’t value them or respect the people who managed to make them work. Hell, in awe of them came closer to the truth, and the idea of Derek and Kathryn calling it quits was, quite frankly, devastating. If they couldn’t make it work, what hope was there for someone like me? A selfish commitment-phobe. Safer to not even try.

All that sacrifice and compromise. The wasted years. All the scrimping and saving and planning for a future only to see it disappear in the blink of an eye because someone woke up one day and decided they weren’t in love with you anymore.

How did that even happen?

I blinked back the tears, suddenly fifteen again and finding out D had been bullied at school for months and hadn’t said a word because he didn’t want to worry me or face Mum and Dad. In the end, he hadn’t needed to say a word. The bruises on his face had told their own story. True to form, our parents had been epically unconcerned, convinced it would all blow over if Derek just kept his head down.

Well, fuck that. Derek was my brother, and it was my job to protect him, to protect all of them. Suitably pissed off, the next day at school I’d gone on the hunt for Derek’s tormentors, and the week’s detention and black eye I’d earned for my retribution was more than worth it at the time. The haranguing from my parents about wasting their time was less easily dismissed. My solution might not have been the most grown-up way to handle things, but the grown-ups in our family had made themselves too scarce for me to give a fuck. The bullying stopped and I was happy.

I wasn’t about to go after Kathryn, but my heart once again hurt for my brother. He’d loved her fiercely and I couldn’t imagine how he’d cope with losing her. But he wasn’t thirteen anymore, and I couldn’t just step in and make everything okay, even if I wanted to. Those days had gone. Not helped by me walking away from them the minute I could.

You were angry. And rightly so. Terry’s soft words and shimmering blue eyes came back to me. He’d never know what hearing those words meant to me, especially from a good father like he so obviously was. He’d stared right through my bullshit and got to the heart of what I was feeling. I knew nothing about him and yet I’d spilled my guts in a way I never did. No one in my current life knew about the lonely, troubled kid saddled with a role I was way too young to handle. A lot of kids had it much worse, after all. At least we had two parents and enough money to scrape by.

They should never have been your responsibility.

No, they shouldn’t have, but it had taken me a long time to understand that. To forgive my brothers for doing nothing more than needing me to be there for them. And to forgive my parents for being the clueless narcissists they were, although that was clearly still a work in progress.

But none of that understanding stopped those old insecurities and fears from ripping to the surface. Torn between wanting to solve their problems and fear of being drawn back into the web I’d run from so long ago. Dammit. What was wrong with me? My brother’s marriage was falling apart and all I could think about was not getting caught up in it.

My gaze landed on the unopened envelope. I ripped it open and tipped the contents onto the blotter. I knew what it was, and the timing was... eerily timely. I pushed the brochures, tourist information, and weighty course programme aside, and reached for the letter bearing the emblem of the Veterinary School of South Australia. The delivery was the follow-up to a phone conversation I’d had with the head of department the week before when he’d offered me a two-year secondment to run their on-site student training clinic. The offer came with an invitation to fly over and view the clinic and discuss the programme in more depth before I gave an answer. There was an excellent salary package and subsidised accommodation was included.

The offer was tempting, not least for the change of scenery and excellent addition to my resume. It helped that Matt had been surprisingly supportive of the idea. Then again, he wasn’t aware that I had doubts about ever returning once I was gone. As much as I loved the Mackenzie and the clinic, lately I’d found myself circling the same old questions again and again. Did I really want to spend the next ten, twenty, thirty years in the small town of Oakwood, with its singular movie theatre, a handful of eating establishments, zero clubs, and the increasingly suffocating dating scene?

I slid the letter back on the desk and spun my chair around to stare out the window. A bluebird Mackenzie sky stared right back at me, just a few cotton-wool clouds drifting east toward Burke’s Pass.

It couldn’t hurt to shake things up a bit, right? And maybe it was time. As Sonja had reminded me, I was forty-two. A new job with new people and a whole new country to explore might be exactly what I needed. Maybe I’d come back. Maybe I wouldn’t. That’s what having no ties and no relationship to consider meant. I didn’t need anyone’s permission or approval. I could do exactly what I liked. What was the point of being single if I didn’t use it to my advantage?

The idea skittered through my belly like a frisky snake.

Jesus. Was I seriously considering moving to South Australia?

I swung back to my desk and stared once more at the letter.

Yes. Apparently, I was.

I consulted my calendar, pulled my keyboard closer, and emailed the head of department, giving him some dates in early December that could work for me to visit. Then I ignored the ongoing fluttering in my belly and pressed send before I could second-guess myself. That done, I headed for my truck, wondering if I’d lost my fucking mind.