The Saddler Boys by Fiona Palmer Page A

people’s business but she did it with love and she wanted to help. Drew realised it was the first time he’d thought of his mum without wanting to fall on the ground and cry. But the emptiness was still there, the ache. He was parentless and it hurt like hell.

Chapter 11
    LARGE drops, cold and wet, fell with a splat on her face. One hit the corner of her lips and the sweet taste of rain ran into her mouth. It was a sublime feeling, standing in the open, new smells and sights bringing a sense of being alive and free. Had Nat ever really stopped to smell the roses, as the saying went, before she moved out to Lake Biddy? It sure felt like she’d done a lot of it since then. Maybe because she knew her time here was limited, so she was making the most of it.
    The rain was coming harder now. She felt the water run down her neck, and her top felt plastered to her shoulders. She glanced back at Drew, who was staring at her but not really seeing her. He wore a sad expression that instantly tugged at her heart. It was raw, open and honest. As if sensing her gaze, Drew blinked and went back to helping Billy sort out the yabbies.
    They were getting drenched. ‘Can I help?’ Squatting down, she watched them pick up yabbies. Big claws arched out, trying to find something to pinch. ‘On second thoughts, those claws look nasty.’
    â€˜They do hurt,’ said Billy as he picked one up and checked for eggs. ‘But if you pick them up like this then they can’t get ya.’ He held up another one in his other hand and put them together so they could touch claws. ‘They like to fight.’
    â€˜Once you get nipped you’re pretty good at not letting it happen again,’ said Drew with a smirk.
    â€˜Yeah, I bet.’
    â€˜We’re nearly done. Head back to the ute and we’ll be right behind you,’ he said with rain dripping from his hair and chin. His long, dark eyelashes held the drops momentarily before they slid off.
    Nat felt bad but did as she was told. By the time she got in and shook out her hair, Drew was climbing in beside her, Billy on his lap. Together they drove back to the farmhouse.
    â€˜I’m sorry,’ said Drew when they finally stood under the protection of the verandah. ‘I hadn’t planned on a drenching to go with your meal.’
    Nat pulled her top away from her, where it had been suctioning onto her skin. The poor bloke was probably getting more than he bargained for. ‘It’s fine. Like you said, it’s just water.’
    â€˜Billy, can you get the yabbies ready while I just duck inside?’
    Drew went inside without waiting for an answer from Billy, who carried on putting the yabbies into a wire basket.
    â€˜Copper is ready, Dad. Can I put them in?’ he said as Drew came back out.
    He was wearing a dry white T-shirt that was a little snug – not that it was a bad thing on Drew; it just made Nat more aware of his muscled physique. He was also carrying some clothes.
    â€˜Let me do that, buddy, it’s really hot.’ He turned to Nat. ‘Here, in case you want to change into something dry. They were my mum’s. You can keep them.’
    Billy’s head tilted towards them with the mention of Alice. Nat reached for the clothes and held out a pair of black trackpants and a blue fleecy checked shirt.
    â€˜Those are called trackpants. Really comfortable. And if you come back out here again this is what you can wear for farm work,’ said Drew with a half smile. ‘I could use a helper while I’m shearing.’
    Nat scoffed at his cheek but, biting her tongue, she went inside to change.
    In the laundry she tugged off her wet jeans and top. Her white silk and lace underwear weren’t too damp, luckily. With nothing else under the flannel shirt, she made sure to do up every button and then pulled on the pants. She had to admit they felt soft and comfortable, but she did feel very