The Geography of Happiness (Mackenzie Country)

Chapter 10

CHAPTER TEN

Terry

For the remainder of the trip to McEldowney’s, I tried and failed to keep a silly smile off my face. The spine-tingling memory of Spencer’s lips on mine popped goosebumps up my spine, sent my heartbeat skipping, and had me wriggling in my seat. I was starting to fall for this man, and it boded nothing but grief and heartache—things I could well do without adding to my already complicated life. Not that it was stopping me, apparently. Because this new and improved Terry O’Connor lived for a challenge and laughed in the face of danger, right?

Wrong. There was nothing new about the anxiety tying my stomach in knots.

Did I like Spencer? Yes. Was it going anywhere? Hell no. Did I want it to? The jury was out. None of it felt real. My time in the Mackenzie was like playing hooky from my real life. A time when I could set responsible dad aside and just be me for a bit before the demands of the real world returned—Painted Bay, my friends, my business, my daughter’s health and future, all of it.

I needed to stop all the silliness, but I couldn’t find it in me to care. Only a few more days, right? I could have fun for a few more days and then I’d pay the price.

Not that I seemed to have a choice.

The man had flipped a switch in my dusty brain and the light was giving me a headache. For whatever reason, I liked this man. Liked him in the same way that it had all started with Judah, and look how that ended—a disappointing and painful road that I had zero desire to revisit. And yet here I was again.

Chatting with Holden at Miller Station before we’d left, one thing had become starkly apparent. For all that the young station owner was mesmerising in his shirtless glory, it had been Spencer who’d held my attention. He might not have had as much skin on display, but with the sleeves of his coveralls tied around his waist and a black singlet hanging loose from his shoulders, he still managed to paint a drool-worthy picture, even for the likes of me, who wasn’t usually given to noticing such things. Hell, it had taken me long months of friendship with Judah before I cottoned on to the benefits of watching a man dancing in ballet tights. Or at least one man in particular.

Now it was black singlets and sweaty armpits. Go figure. Good luck finding a type in all that.

A roll of gauze tumbled from the back seat to the floor and rolled forward to settle at my feet. I scooped it up and stowed it under my thigh. Spencer’s work truck was a full-blown veterinary clinic on wheels, with every nook and cranny packed full of equipment, including a back seat piled high with spare clothes, blankets, waterproof tarps, and a ton of medical paraphernalia.

And he clearly knew the road like the back of his hand, steering effortlessly around potholes that I barely noticed, pointed to landmarks without taking his eyes from the road, and fed me a ton of background—aka gossip—about the stations in the region.

He sat relaxed in his seat with one arm out the window, his fingers tapping a beat to music only he could hear. Whenever he turned and caught me staring, which was more times than I cared to admit, he’d shoot me a smile and my cheeks would inevitably blow up. For the umpteenth time I cursed my fair skin, and also, what the hell was wrong with me? I needed a fucking minder.

When we finally pulled up alongside McEldowney’s woolshed, the station owner was there to greet us. Spencer did the introductions, and Grant McEldowney shook my hand in a way that set my bones rattling. Damn farmers. But with his welcoming expression and easy smile, I liked him straight off. I guessed him to be in his late sixties, although it was hard to tell from his craggy face weathered over decades of exposure to the harsh Mackenzie climate.

Introductions made, Spencer had me decked out in coveralls, gumboots, and some hairnet thingy he insisted I’d be grateful for, all in the blink of an eye. Then he and Grant set off around the back of the woolshed to the outdoor pens, and I followed, anxiety crawling over my skin like a bad rash.

Noticing how quiet I was, or maybe it was the whites of my eyes glowing in the dark shadow of the rain clouds, Grant made an attempt to reassure me. “No need to worry. Mary-Beth really is a sweetheart. Although—” He hesitated. “—she has been known to get overly friendly with newcomers... just now and then... so I’d maybe keep my distance if I were you. Just to be safe.”

I shot him a wide-eyed look. “What the hell does that mean?”

“Ignore him,” Spencer piped up from somewhere behind me. “You’ll be fine.”

I threw a glance over my shoulder. “You keep saying that, and it’s not as reassuring as you seem to think it is.”

“And here she is.” Grant indicated a pen to his right. “Told you she was a beauty, didn’t I?”

I followed the sweep of his arm and almost keeled over at the sight of the porcine behemoth. My feet came to an abrupt stop, my eyes bugging out of my head. Jesus Christ . There were many things that could be said about Mary-Beth, but being beautiful was definitely not one of them.

The sow appeared to be every bit the diva Spencer had described, not to mention a universe or two larger than I’d imagined—and having seen a Large White a time or two, I’d imagined pretty big. At the sound of Grant’s voice, she trotted closer to the fence and tried to shove her massive head through the rails, presumably requiring some of his attention. Foiled in her efforts, she began striking the muddy ground with her trotters and vocalising her discontent, while at the same time eyeing me disdainfully like I’d forgotten to bow and kiss her trotter upon entry.

Panic welled in my chest. Spencer couldn’t be serious about needing my help, could he? I might’ve been brought up on a farm, but there was no way I was getting into a pen with a pissed-off sow the size of a Mini—the four-door version.

“Um... Spencer, I don’t think that I can—” I turned and stopped abruptly at the look of wicked glee shining in both his and Grant’s eyes.

Then they burst into laughter, and I was hit by a memory of watching them in whispered conversation at the back of the ute before we headed for the pens.

Goddammit. I’d been fucking had, the bastards.

“Holy shit, you should see your face,” Spencer managed between gasps of air. Then he turned to high-five Grant who was laughing so hard he was holding his sides.

I narrowed my eyes and shoved Spencer none-too-lightly on the chest. “You two set me up.” Which only invoked more laughter and eventually I joined in. “All right, arseholes. Happy to entertain you. Anything as long as I don’t have to get in that fucking pen with her ladyship.”

Grant clapped my shoulder. “Sorry, son, but it was just too easy. It’s the station’s initiation rite. Everyone gets to meet Mary-Beth.”

I gave a snort of amusement and turned my attention back to Spencer who was still wiping tears from his eyes. “You and I are going to have a conversation,” I warned, which only started him laughing again. “Yeah, yeah. Enjoy it while it lasts. Payback is a bitch, in case you’ve forgotten.”

“Good for you. Don’t take any of his shit.” Grant handed me another clap on the back as he headed to where Mary-Beth was watching the proceedings with a baleful gaze. “He’s way too cocky for his own good.”

Spencer flipped him off, then gave me a slow once-over and a lazy smile. “Sorry.”

I shook my head but couldn’t stop grinning like a fool. “Payback still stands.”

He lowered his voice. “I can’t wait.” Then he stood back and zipped up his coveralls while I started to strip out of mine. “I’d advise you to keep them on,” he warned. “If Mary-Beth gets antsy, she starts snouting, and that shit travels miles.” He glanced up and choked out a laugh. “But it’s fair to say you can safely ditch the hairnet, fetching as it is.”

I tore the net from my head. “I fucking knew it. And you needn’t think I’m helping after all this. Also, define antsy... and snouting.”

Spencer threw one of his sunshine smiles my way as he tapped the side of his nose and said, “Now where’s the fun in that?”

My glare intensified, which only made him grin wider, until I caved to the humour, laughing as I balled the hairnet and threw it at him. “You are such an arsehole.”

He caught it mid-air and threw it back. “No argument there.”

“Whenever you’re ready, kiddies.” Grant leaned against the pen with his arms folded, smiling at us.

Thankfully, as it turned out, Spencer didn’t require anything of me other than to hand him whatever he wanted from his bag while I stood safely on the outside of the narrow race that prevented Mary-Beth from turning around while she was being examined.

Snouting, as I’d quickly discovered, involved the weighty sow venting her fury at being constrained by scooping plugs of wet mud onto her snout and hurling them at any bystander hovering too close, usually me. On occasion she’d switch things up by simply snorting a spray of nasal debris with the force of an afterburner.

With every incident, Spencer and Grant practically choked with laughter, and I was taking names. I was positive Grant usually did my job with a great deal more efficiency than me, but Spencer’s obvious enjoyment at my avoidance antics every time I got within snouting distance of Mary-Beth was priceless, and I didn’t want it to stop.

Needless to say, by the time Spencer had finished with the sow, my coveralls were filthy, Mary-Beth looked inordinately pleased with herself, and I was grinning from ear to ear. Forty minutes had passed in the blink of an eye, and I hadn’t had so much fun in years.

The twenty-minute journey from McEldowney to Lane Station passed in easy conversation as Spencer gave me a fascinating synopsis of the Lane clan, including the fact the station was home to yet another LGBTQ couple—Jules Lane, who managed the place, while his partner, Liam, ran his own business from the property.

I asked more about Spencer’s work and life in the Mackenzie Basin and learned that he and his business partner, Matt, had met at university and got on well enough to try opening a mixed-animal practice together when they were done. The Mackenzie seemed a natural choice. Spencer had driven through the area while on university vacation and fallen in love with the place, while Matt had relatives who lived locally.

Spencer explained, “When we first looked at the Oakwood practice, it was focused only on domestic animals and needed a lot of investment. But we knew there was huge potential if we could expand into the farming sector as well. I had a little bit of money from my father’s life insurance and Matt was able to borrow what he needed from his parents, so it was a done deal. The existing vet was looking to retire, but he agreed to remain on part-time for the first six months until we had our feet under the table. The practice grew slowly from there.”

“Wow.” I regarded Spencer with fresh eyes. “I’m thinking that was a huge risk. I remember taking over my small, run-down hardware store at twenty, and I know exactly how difficult it can be to turn things around.”

Spencer gave a knowing huff. “Tell me about it. If Doc Pierce hadn’t agreed to hang around, we might not have survived. The whole expansion thing was way more complicated than we’d thought. The first thing Doc did was send Matt and me out to work a few weeks on Miller Station. Best idea ever. Boy, did we learn a lot. And Holden’s family became our first big rural clients. After that, it snowballed. Matt and I might’ve been green, but we had a whole lot of new knowledge around sustainability and modern animal husbandry that we desperately wanted to put into practice.”

I grinned at his enthusiasm. “The new kids on the block trying to make a difference.”

He chuckled. “Something like that. Not all, but many of the existing vet practices had been around a long time and were a little more resistant to new science and technology. But the impact of new government legislation and public awareness regarding conservation meant our timing was kind of perfect. But we were na?ve as hell. A classic case of we didn’t know what we didn’t know.”

I laughed. “Yeah, I remember that feeling. I might’ve grown up on a farm, but I was never what you’d call a handyman kind of guy. I knew zip about hardware, or accounting, or health regulations, or any of the red tape you have to wade through to run your own business. Dad helped finance me into it. He wanted me to have something solid to support Hannah. He also held my hand through those first six months, a little like your vet. I don’t know what I would’ve done without him.”

Spencer shot me a smile. “See, I told you we have a lot more in common than you think.”

I rolled my eyes but returned his smile, my stomach wobbling at the reminder that I interested him. “Yeah, maybe. But how about you keep your eyes on the road?”

“Spoilsport.”

But he did as I said, letting me study him for a moment as he drove, this tall man with his easy boyish charm. A man who’d appeared in my life from nowhere and who I knew very little about. Strike that. I knew more about him than I wanted to admit. Maybe not nuts-and-bolts stuff, but I knew a lot about who he was and what made him that way.

I considered the smooth line of his jaw, the soft curve of his lips, and that thick, short stubble lit with glints of silver begging to be touched. I remembered the coarse feel of it under my fingers, and the jolt of interest that rolled through my body shocked me.

Spencer was an easy man to like. A lot of people did, apparently. And a lot of those had been through his bed. He was the kind of man a cautious person like me could trust with their secrets, but for a novice heart like mine, he was as dangerous as a rattlesnake.

I dragged my attention back to the road and the blur of rolling tussock as we barrelled closer to Lane Station. The threatening bank of grey cloud hanging over the western ridgeline was edging ever closer, promising rain at any moment.

“I hope Hannah packed her coat,” I said, feeling a twinge of guilt at the realisation I hadn’t thought of her in hours.

Spencer leaned forward to peer up at the sky. He grimaced. “Damn. It wasn’t supposed to reach us till evening, but that’s the Mackenzie for you. When the weather rolls in from the Tasman Sea, more often than not it gets a kick in the pants from an Antarctic southerly. If we’re lucky, it’ll hold off until we’re done. But I’m sure Zach will have Hannah covered. That man is nothing if not prepared.”

I hoped Spencer was right. Slick ground and elbow crutches were a recipe for disaster, especially if Hannah was trying to manage Gabby at the same time.

We fell into a comfortable silence, broken only by the hum of the tyres on the gravel road. By the time we’d passed Lane homestead and pulled up outside the woolshed, it was one o’clock, and fat droplets of rain were breaking on the windscreen.

“Shit.” Spencer squinted up at the sky. “I hope Jules has them under cover. You’ll find an oilskin on the back seat, and you better put those spare gumboots on too.” Spencer threw open his door and the front half of a large huntaway landed in his lap.

“Jesus, Hopper, you big lug.” Spencer rubbed the dog’s ears affectionately before shoving him back out of the cab and brushing the mud from his jeans. “Damn animal.”

Someone slapped the roof of the ute, sending my heart all a patter, and a handsome face appeared next to Spencer’s. Jules, I presumed.

“Spencer, my man. I was beginning to think you’d never get here.” He caught sight of me and smiled. “And who do we have here?”

“Jules Lane, meet Terry O’Connor,” Spencer said. “Terry’s daughter and her service dog are working with Zach this week, so I thought I’d bring him along for the ride. Meet the weird locals. That kind of thing.”

Jules directed an arched brow at Spencer. “How very civic minded of you.”

Spencer rolled his eyes but said nothing, and Jules reached across his chest to shake my hand with a firm grip, his palm rough from station work. “Nice to meet you, Terry. I hope we can relieve any boredom from hanging around with this idiot.”

I snorted. “You read my mind.”

Jules laughed. “I think I’m going to like you.”

Spencer shook his head. “I knew this was a bad idea.”

“Come on.” Jules hurried us out of the ute. “Let’s get out of this rain. I moved them into the covered yards just for you.”

“I think I might love you,” Spencer joked as he climbed out of the ute and the two men ran to the tailgate to grab Spencer’s gear. While they did that, I reached into the back seat and retrieved the coveralls, oilskin, and gumboots before hightailing it up the ramp toward the woolshed door.

“Spencer, wait up!” A voice rang out from behind, and I turned to find a blond tattooed man in trendy ripped jeans and a Smith’s band T-shirt grab the door before it closed. He launched himself inside and shook the rain from his hair. “Fucking hell,” he grumbled. “I thought we weren’t supposed to get this till tonight?” He shoved a small chilly bin into Spencer’s hand’s and said, “Something to eat, courtesy of Norma. She knows you never pack a damn lunch.” He went up on his toes and planted a kiss on Jules’ cheek. “Hey, you.”

So, this was Liam. Spencer had briefly filled me in on the couple and all the prior drama regarding Jules’ homophobic dad.

“Did she put annnything in there f-f-for me?” a voice asked from the shadows of the shed, and I lifted my head to see an older man with a quad cane making his way over. Speak of the devil. This had to be Paddy Lane.

“No, she didn’t.” Liam chuckled. “But she did tell me not to fall for any lies that you hadn’t eaten yet and to watch out that you didn’t pinch any of Spencer’s cake. You’re supposed to be eating less sugar, remember?” Liam arched a brow and the older man scowled.

“Don’t need her telling me wh-what to do,” Paddy grumbled.

Liam snorted. “I can tell her that, if you like?”

Paddy’s eyes blew wide. “N-no.” Then he glared. “You wouldn’t dare.”

My gaze bounced between them, fascinated with the dynamics of Spencer’s dad and Spencer’s boyfriend trading snark.

Liam grinned and waggled his brows. “What’s it worth?”

Paddy harrumphed. “Damn fairy.”

Liam’s grin broadened. “Go on, you love my sass, old man. According to some in Oakwood, I’m fucking queen of this station.”

Spencer made a choking sound as he smothered a laugh.

“You w-wish.” Paddy’s lip twitched in humour. “N-need more than a big m-m-mouth to be a qu-queen. N-need b-balls.” He gave a wry chuckle at his own joke and started back toward the pens. “And don’t forget the d-d-dogs, Spennn-cer.”

“Yes sir.” Spencer saluted Paddy’s back and then shot Liam a rueful smile. “I’ll never understand the weird relationship you two have.”

Liam shrugged. “Some days I don’t either, but it works.”

“You’re amazing.” Jules’ hand slid around the blond man’s waist, pulling him in for another kiss before releasing him. They made an unusual but good-looking couple. Jules with his tall, hometown, country-boy style, and Liam rocking a decidedly big city, bad boy vibe that belonged in some trendy upmarket club.

Was I gawping? I checked. Yes, yes I was. I snapped my mouth shut.

“I don’t believe we’ve met.” Liam looked me up and down and I felt myself blushing... again. “Spencer, you’ve been holding out on us.”

Spencer cast Liam a warning glance. “Behave.”

Liam smirked and studied me a second time while Jules made the introductions. “Terry, let me introduce you to my better half, Liam. Terry is staying at Miller Sta?—”

“Oh!” Liam interrupted, clasping my hand in a welcoming grip. “You’re Hannah’s dad, right?”

I nodded, wondering how he knew. “Yes. Hannah and Gabby are working with Zach this week.”

Liam nodded enthusiastically. “Yes, yes. I saw them in town this morning. I’m an occupational therapist, by the way. Your daughter has some great skills. I was very impressed.”

My heart swelled. “Thank you. It’s none of my doing. She’s very determined.”

Liam was still nodding. “I can see that. If you’d like me to spend a couple of hours with her while she’s here, I have a few mobility suggestions she might like to try, and there are some new aids on the market you might find useful. No charge, of course. Zach and I often work together with clients.”

“Liam’s the best in the country,” Jules asserted with obvious pride.

“Aw.” Liam pressed a kiss to Jules’ cheek. “I don’t know about the best , but probably the top three.” He grinned roguishly and everyone laughed. “Let me know if you’re interested, Terry. No pressure.”

Like I was going to turn that opportunity down. Getting face time with specialist skilled health providers wasn’t the easiest when you lived outside of a main city. “That would be amazing. I’ll check with Hannah and let you know.”

Liam beamed. “Excellent.” He turned to Spencer, indicating the chilly bin on the floor. “Lunch. Don’t forget. Norma will flay my damn arse if she finds them still there this afternoon. She knows you don’t eat on rounds unless somebody ties you down.” He shot me a covert wink, adding, “I bet he hasn’t fed you yet either.”

Somewhere to my right, Jules snorted, and Spencer whispered, “For fuck’s sake, Liam.”

I swallowed a smile and decided to play along. “As a matter of fact, Spencer hasn’t fed me yet.” I cast the man a disappointed look. “Quite remiss of you really, Spencer. I’ve heard Mackenzie meat is some of the best in the country, then again, there are always exceptions. Doesn’t pay to get too excited about these things in advance.”

There was a brief moment of silence before the woolshed erupted into hoots of laughter and Spencer’s face turned beet red.

Still laughing, Liam clapped me on the back. “I do believe you can stay.”

Spencer rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Think you’re funny, don’t you?” he grumbled before shooting me an approving wink. “I can see I’ll have to keep an eye on you.”

Anytime . The thought floated in my brain. Anytime .

Spencer and I exchanged a look that lasted a little too long and Liam cocked his head with interest at whatever he thought he saw.

He placed a hand under my elbow and said, “Thanks for being a good sport. I took a chance you wouldn’t be offended, but the awesome comeback was a welcome surprise.”

I chuckled. “Glad to be of service. The man had it coming. He had me wearing a hairnet for Grant McEldowney’s sow this morning.”

Liam choked out a laugh. “A hairnet?” He whirled on Spencer. “Damn. You’re good.”

Spencer beamed. “It’s a gift, what can I say?”

Pelting rain fell like shotgun pellets on the roof and we all looked up.

“Damn.” Jules shook his head. “Guess our luck just ran out. Come on, let’s get this show started.”

Liam grabbed a sandwich and drink out of the cooler and shoved them in my hands. “How about we let these bozos do their thing while you tell me all about this wonderful daughter of yours. I’ve had a couple of previous clients with JIA but they were in their twenties.”

“Fine with me,” I answered. The more information about the devastating condition I could spread, the better.

Liam called out to Spencer. “I’m gonna steal your guy for a bit, if you don’t mind?”

Your guy. The words sounded far too good in my ears.

Spencer cast me a quick look, checking I was okay with that. When I nodded, he hooked a thumb toward Liam and said, “Just don’t believe any of his bullshit lies.”

Liam chuckled and said, overly loud, “Man, have I got some stories to tell you about our good vet.”