Runaway Summer {Sam}

[Tiggs]

The day was warm and dry enough to sit outside. Cross-legged on the grass, Molly had a collection of three-day-old puppies in her lap. She cradled the largest and darkest, letting the little male suckle on her finger. She was fond of the first pup to be born alive, and she’d named him Butch after her favourite film character.

The vet was visiting, and this was the first time she’d been able to pet the puppies since their dingo mother had whelped them three nights ago. The bitch was weak, but furious. She’d almost bitten Molly and Sam on multiple occasions, and they only opened the large storage crate they’d converted to a nursery when absolutely necessary. The vet was with Sam and the dingo now while she minded the puppies.

Guiltily, she chooshy-cooed and fussed the tiny puppy, admiring his stark black and white markings. He was the quietest of the bunch – most of which with pining for their mother – and he seemed content to be held. The rest of the bunch were ginger males (she’d just checked) and one creamy female. Poor girl, surrounded by men! She knew what that felt like. She heard a noise behind her, and turned carefully to see Sam and the vet rounding the hut toward her. She gave a polite nod to the vet, glanced at Sam and turned her attention back to the pups.

[tingara]

The news from the vet was not good, the man had been expecting it but it still hadn’t been pleasant to hear. First of all it had been recommended that the pups be bottle fed as their mother was too weak to produce much milk and it had also been said that in the coming weeks putting her down may have to become an option. Sam shook his head and rubbed a hand over his chin as he watched the she-dingo that his dog, Lucas so doted on. She was getting sicker as time went on but it didn’t stop her snapping at any human who went near her and that was another thing that worried the wrangler.

He tore himself away from the dingo and thanked the vet as he went to leave in his beat up four-wheel drive. Coming out to the front of the hut Sam spotted Molly with the puppies and couldn’t help but smile. The woman was so good with them already but it wasn’t hard since they didn’t move much at three days old. As the vet drove off up the dusty track the man sat himself next to Molly on the snowgrass, picking up the creamy female pup. ”It’s not looking good for the mother I’m afraid. The vet gave us some formula, from now on it’s bottle feeding, then in about three weeks we can start to wean them,” he sighed, letting the hungry pup suckle his finger.

He wanted very much to look at the girl in front of him but every time he did so he either flushed red or she made a point not to look at him back. Sam liked Molly; she was beautiful, strong, smart and didn’t take any crap from anyone. There had been occasions where he’d tried to flirt with her but almost every time she shot him down. Sometimes he got lucky and got a little smile or a chuckle but instantly after she’d go frigid. Everything about the woman confused him and as he thought about it he caught himself staring at her. Embarrassed the man quickly once again focused his attention on the puppy in his hands.

[Tiggs]

Molly stiffened a little as Sam sat beside her. Her personal space extended a great deal larger than the man’s, and he often invaded her territory. She shook off the feeling, and gave a solemn nod. She’d been expecting as much. The wild dog was not in good shape, and the pups had been hard to bear without a caring human hand.

The pup in her hands was getting frustrated at the lack of milk he was drawing from her fingers, and let out a pitiful cry. Molly muttered an apology to the little pup and glanced to Sam just as he looked away. The hair on the back of neck rose, and she leaned away instinctively. He’d been looking at her again. Men had a tendency to do that, but it seemed whenever she looked at Sam, he was looking at her. She almost shuddered with the fact, but there was a small part of her that didn’t mind, and was even pleased. She squelched it.

“They’re hungry.” She cleared her throat, and handed the black puppy delicately to the wrangler. “I’ll make them up some formula now.” She said, handing the remaining three tawny brothers over, resisting the urge to flinch when their hands brushed. She could have asked him to get it, but she wanted to be doing something alone, and preoccupying him with the puppies seemed the easier way to achieve that. “How much? How often?” She asked, standing and brushing off her jeans with brisk pats.

[tingara]

It was happening again, just like every other time. When Sam sat within one hundred feet of Molly she looked like she wanted to be any place he wasn’t. Inwardly he huffed, he’d caught her staring at him but when he did the same thing it was as though he had insulted her mother. At times it was frustrating but his mother had always told him women were like wild horses; patience and gentleness was the key. It was just lucky Sam had both of those things in bucket loads. Still there was one main difference between a woman and a wild horse; it was easier to establish a bond with a horse.

”The formula’s in a paper bag on the table inside. The vet said about a cup and a half mixed with two cups of lukewarm water for each pup,” Sam answered, eyes trained on the pup in his hands. It squeaked pathetically in an attempt to let the world know she was hungry. The man smiled at it and ran a hand gently over its frail body. As Molly left he looked up at her as he often did, looking at the back of her got himself a good view and he avoided the glares that way. ”I don’t know pup, women are confusing. Don’t you go growing up to confuse a poor boy dog, it’s cruel,” he said with a chuckle. The puppy sniffed blindly at the man and gave another hungry squeak in answer.

[Tiggs]

---

It was her turn for the night shift. Molly sat on her mattress, the box of wiggling pups down on the floor at its head. After a week, they’d grown tremendously, and considering the size of their father, that was not unexpected. The woman hummed as she readied the bottle for the next pup, carefully holding the young dingo-dog as she directed his questing mouth to the teat. She smiled as the little creature fastened on, and she gently stroked him as he fed. This was the third, Butch and another brother came before, and she still had to feed the last male and the creamy female. Not to mention toileting them and cleaning them up like their mother would.

It must be getting near dawn, because she could hear Sam in the next room shuffling about. By the time she was finished, he was out his room and stomping around the hut. Outside, the dawn critters were beginning to stir, and she guessed the sun must not be long from rising. Her eyes were so heavy, and she picked her favourite pup from the box to hold. The black male, Butch as she’d named him, seemed quite content to lay in her lap, and she stroked the velvety softness of his puppy coat. He wiggled his stumpy legs, looking ridiculously cute with his closed eyes and folded ears and settled down to sleep.

Molly was so tempted to do the same, but Sam would be here to take the pups soon, and so she just had to hold out until then. A soft knock on the door heralded his arrival, and she replied with a softly spoken invitation. The pups could sleep through a thunderstorm, so there was really no need to be quiet, but it was a habit neither of them could shake.

[tingara]

Sleep what a welcome relief, however Sam did feel guilty for making Molly get up during the night to feed the pups even though it was her turn. He would have gladly accepted full responsibility for them since it was his dog that had fathered them but he’d thought against even suggesting that to the woman. If there was one thing he knew about Molly Johns it was that she would never, ever want him to do something for her. It was a pride thing, most stockwomen had it and Molly had more than most. Oh well at least the night off had ensured the man some extra sleep, training brumbies by day and looking after puppies and a sick dingo by night was starting to get exhausting.

As dawn approached the wrangler began to stir, well past needing an alarm clock. Bleary eyed and yawning he rolled out of bed and stumbled around for his clothes. It took a few goes but eventually his pants and shirt were on the right way and he looked slightly awake. Coffee or tea was still needed though which caused Sam to leave his room and go on the hunt. Hopefully Molly had kept the fire going through the night so water could be boiled without much fuss. To his relief it was still going and soon enough two mugs sat on the hut’s main table steaming in the pale dawn light filtering through the window. A milky tea with lots of sugar for him and a black coffee with more sugar than was healthy for Molly.

Balancing the mugs in one and hand and feeling particularly brave, the man rapped softly on the woman’s door and was heralded quietly in. ”Here, thought you could do with one of these,” he whispered handing Molly her coffee. As of late the pair’s relationship had improved, it was still near volatile but better than it had been a few weeks ago. Every now and then there’d even be a semblance of polite conversation. ”How are they doing? Growing like weeds I tell you,” he chuckled, picking up the cream female. She greeted the man with a small yip and frantically tried to lick whatever skin she could get at.

Balancing his tea in one hand and the puppy in the other Sam sat himself carefully near Molly, making sure not to get too close. Oh how he wanted to be closer to her but he knew she needed and wanted space. ”You look buggered, I made your coffee how you like it so hopefully that helps,” the man said quietly, giving the girl a small but warm smile.

[Tiggs]

Molly accepted the coffee like a drowning man accepts a life raft and inhaled it like it was the most wonderful thing in the world. “Oh, thank you.” Her smile was tired, but it was directed mostly at Sam rather than the coffee. A tentative sip confirmed that yes, the cup was practically half sugar. Just how she liked it. She flashed another of those rare grins, and cradled the mug in both hands. “Thanks Sam.”

Juggling coffee and the puppy, she put the black pup back with his siblings and folded her legs up onto the bed to nurse the mug. She rested her head back on the wall, closing her eyes briefly. The coffee was helping a little but she could feel her head clouding with sleep. Grumbling, she set the coffee on the side table, almost leaning over Sam to do so. Sitting back, she watched Sam with the creamy female. He seemed to favour the little girl, though there was a no-brainer – Sam preferring females.

“They’re doing well.” She replied sleepily, “Eating a lot.” She made a sound almost like laugher. “And making plenty of mess the other end.” Sleep deprivation was obviously taking its toll, and she reached over to affectionately pet the creamy pup the wrangler held.

[tingara]

All the smiling and thanking was almost off-putting to Sam, he was so used to being shot down whenever he tried to be friendly that this sudden change in Molly’s demeanour was strange. Not that it was a bad kind of strange, the man liked it, he liked it very much and a small part of him was hopeful that things would get better from here. ”Any time, you deserve it Molly,” he flushed red and then redder still when she said his name so softly. He wanted to hear it in that tone more often instead of the more annoyed one or not said at all.

The man sipped at his tea nonchalantly, playing with the cream puppy as he did so. ”I think I’ll call her ‘Spud’,” he said suddenly, a huge grin on his face. Yes, that would be the puppy’s name, it was a random name, not as well thought out as Butch, but to Sam it suited. ”No different to any other baby then. From humans to horses to dingo-dogs, they all eat tonnes and make an equal amount of mess,” the wrangler chuckled. He tried to ignore the way he’d held his breath when Molly had practically leant over him with the joke but it didn’t work. It didn’t help that when she patted Spud their hands brushed, making Sam’s heart skip a beat. Damn woman had him infatuated.

[Tiggs]

Molly seemed to be oblivious for once to their proximity, apparently distracted by the puppy’s wiggling. She played with the tiny paws, admiring the petite pink pads and the maturing nails. “Spud?” She huffed, amused. “She does look a little like a potato, if you squint.” She squinted, and when things were too blurry to see, she shook her head and leaned back on the wall.

“Well, thanks for the coffee...” She trailed off, hoping he’d take the hint and leave her to sleep. She didn’t even have her eyes open now, finding it impossible to keep them open. Her head lolled forward, and she didn’t realise she was drifting so close to sleep. Automatically finding a more comfortable way to sleep, she rested her head on the nearest available softness, which happened to be Sam’s shoulder.

[tingara]

”Well it’s settled then, Spud is officially this little girlie’s name,” Sam laughed with Molly’s amusement. The woman was right; if you squinted at the pup she did look almost like a potato but potatoes had a habit of staying still whereas the dingo-dog was full of energy. She pawed and squeaked pitifully at Molly’s fingers, legs flailing in all directions. ”Anytime; forget training horses, coffee from the billy is my specialty,” he chuckled quietly, smiling warmly at the girl. Sam’s eyes widened as he watched her drift to sleep, on his shoulder no less!

The responsible part of him said to move out quietly and let the woman sleep but the more adventurous side told him to take advantage. When was he ever going to have this happen again after all? Gently Sam moved himself so Molly’s head was in a better position on his shoulder and so that she was also leaning more on his torso. It would be more comfortable to the both of them and a way for Sam to enjoy being close to the woman without her striking the fear of God in him. There was, however, a sneaking suspicion she wouldn’t be all that appreciative when she woke up.