Caine

Chapter Two

Sitting on the big rock down on the beach, dangling her toes in the water, listening to the surf break on the black sand, Sarah let her thoughts drift to Caine. She liked him – she knew that already. And not just like, but like liked him. She smiled to herself. It wasn't just the fact that he didn't seem bothered by her Tourette's that attracted her, and his gorgeous looks, but also the gentle way he spoke, the tender way he smiled at her, and the way he seemed genuinely interested in talking to her. She didn't normally bother trying to make conversation with the farm workers, all she could usually get out of them was a grunt. But Caine was different. The instant she laid eyes him she'd had a good feeling about him.

This was her favourite place, this rock. This was her favourite way to spend an afternoon - ride her palomino mare Glory out over the hills, to the back of the farm and down to the beach, where she could sit on this rock and just daydream. She'd left her socks and boots over in the grass where Glory was tied, and the salty water was slowly washing away the black sand that had stuck to her feet as she walked out to the rock. No one ever came here, it was her own private paradise. Here, she could pretend she was a normal person, not plagued by Tourette's that made her do weird things to her face that she couldn't control; the cause of all the teasing she endured at school and on the bus ride home. Usually she dreamed about her future, about the family she'd one day have, the husband, the kids. The farm would be hers eventually, and she knew every inch of the land by heart. She'd ridden over the hills so often she knew where each track led, where to find the best view, where there were rabbits; she knew every tree, and she loved it all. She couldn't imagine living anywhere else - this was home.

She was dreaming about Caine. She was thinking about swimming here with him, right out there in the surf. She never swam here, the rips were treacherous and she wasn't that strong a swimmer, but she knew she'd be okay with Caine to protect her. She imagined him enveloping her in his strong arms as he pulled her out of the current, hugging her close, both dripping wet, then laying down side by side to dry in the sun. She knew it would never happen - even if Caine was interested in her, and wasn't just being nice to her to be polite; her father would never allow it. But she dreamed it anyway. As far as she knew, dreams were still free.

***

Like normal, Sarah spent most of her weekend working on the farm – helping out in the yards, shifting sheep, and riding her horse when she got the chance. She wasn't interested in going out and doing things with friends, she didn't really have any friends anyway – the farm was where she was happiest – it was her life. She was completely at home on horseback, riding the hills, bringing sheep down to the yards, working in the yards alongside her father, and doing any other job that needed to be done. Her father had told her many times that she was as good as any farm worker he could hire, and she knew it was true. This was what she loved. She couldn't imagine ever doing anything else.

***

Caine had a good view of the sheep-yards from the lounge window of his little cottage, and he was watching Sarah work. He hadn't taken much notice of her when he'd first arrived, his mind had been on his new job, but now he had the time to notice her, and he was making the most of it. Her dark brown hair was pulled back into a ponytail, but she kept brushing away stray strands with the back of her hand, leaving grubby streaks on the side of her face. It looked like she was wearing jeans, and a pink t-shirt that kept riding up her back when she bent over. He wasn't sure how old she was – 17 maybe? She certainly knew what she was doing in the yards; she'd obviously been helping her father her whole life.

He'd already unpacked his few belongings – he was glad the cottage came fully furnished, as he owned practically nothing. All he really had were his clothes, his saddle, boots, a few books, and his ute. This was the first time he'd ever been away from home, and he wasn't sure that he liked it. He missed the station, he missed the men. He even missed Ian, the grumpy old cook, who owned a cat even grumpier than himself, that never failed to hiss at him whenever he walked past. Caine didn't get why people had cats. What good were they? Sure, they caught the odd mouse; but not this cat. This cat was old and grouchy and never caught anything; he spent all his time sleeping in a box in front of the fire in the cookshop, eating bits of bacon Ian threw on the floor for him, and hissing at all the men.

He didn't know what it was, but he was attracted to Sarah. He'd had absolutely no experience with girls, he'd never kissed a girl, never had a girlfriend. He'd gone to an all-boys boarding school, and the only socialising he'd ever done had been at the local pub, and there were no girls there he'd been interested in talking to. Yet there was something about Sarah that he liked. Although nothing had been said, he got the impression that Sarah was off-limits to him, so he knew nothing would ever come of his infatuation, but still ... he was enjoying watching her. Then he told himself he was being creepy, spying on a girl, and flicked on the TV instead, trying to distract himself.

He thought of taking Dan out for a ride, but he didn't feel comfortable enough on the farm to do that yet. Probably better to give the horse a couple of days to settle in, the journey had been a long one, and poor Dan hadn't been out of the float the whole time. He was making up for it now though, galloping around the paddock like a mad thing, kicking up his heels, rolling in the dust, grazing happily, without a care in the world, then starting the process all over again: run, buck, roll, eat.

Caine gazed wistfully out the window, half-seeing his horse, half-seeing Sarah in the yards; but his mind was on other things. Had he done the right thing, moving all the way up here? Sure, he'd needed to get out. The station held only sad memories; he needed to stand on his own two feet, see the world. But he missed it. And it was so different up here ... for the first time in ages he wished his father were here. He thought of the old man most days, fleetingly – but once he'd gotten over the shock of his death, he hadn't really missed him, until now. He'd been busy on the station, the days were too full to leave much time for grieving, so he'd just got on with life. But the station was so different without his father around; that's the main reason he'd left. And now... now he'd give anything to have the old man back again, if only so he could stop second-guessing himself.

***

Conversation flowed easily between Caine and Sarah at the dinner table over the next few weeks, and looking forward to seeing his smile at the end of the day was what got Sarah through the long days at school – particularly the agonising bus ride home. Teenage hormones had made her tics worse, and everyone at school made sure she knew it. And if there was a chance she had forgotten what a freak she was, she was always reminded the whole way home on the bus. Do you really think I don't know I'm doing this? She wanted to shout at them. Do you think I don't know that I'm a freak? Must you insist on pointing it out, constantly? She knew she'd never voice her thoughts though – she wasn't brave enough.

She was getting better at ignoring the taunts, she thought of Caine instead, and imagined him right there next to her, shielding her; but the teasing still bothered her, no matter how hard she tried not to let it. So Caine was her lifesaver. She lived for dinner time when, no matter how tired they happened to be, they always had a smile for each other.