Pausing on the landing, Ivy softly opened the door of Michael’s room. The casement windows were opened to the night. The breeze wasn’t enough to rattle the latch-arms, but she closed them all the same, and pulled the sheet up to Michael’s chin before closing the door again.
If there was a noise on the porch like footsteps, it was probably her imagination. And didn’t wooden houses creak and stretch with the temperature? As Ivy began to drift she took comforting thoughts of Adam with her as she fell asleep.
Chapter Thirty-Three
Adam was well and truly over his clumsy moon boot. He was like some cartoon cowboy with a comical swagger.
In front of him, Jack was trying to cut the young heifers and bulls from the rest of the herd. It was time for them to be weaned. Their mothers had other ideas, and the cows chased the tails of their offspring, getting between calf and rider. Oh yeah, the cows knew cutting and were making a mockery of any skills young Jack had thought he possessed.
It was more like a big top spectacle than anything else. Around and around they went, a hurdy-gurdy with the music of hollering cows. All Adam needed was half a dozen monkeys wearing spangled suits to jump on the bandwagon.
RJ had gone to check and mend some of the outlying fencing. He must have taken the new bloke with him because neither of them were anywhere to be seen. They couldn’t have picked a worse time. With so much going on, and with the nuisance of Adam’s broken leg, RJ had taken up the slack and kept the station running. Adam didn’t expect RJ back from fencing until later in the day, and then he’d probably work on his beloved Bedford until sunset.
It would have been far more helpful to him if RJ had stayed behind to do the cutting. Let the young blokes play around with high tensile. Then again, without the supervision of either him or RJ, maybe they wouldn’t do it right. A fence had to be secured properly. A four-hundred-kilogram cow could make quick work of a poorly strained fence. It only took one to push its way through where it imagined the grass was greener, for them all to follow on behind.
Now, if Dusty were here, Adam knew he would probably disobey doctor’s orders to straddle the saddle and show Jack how penning the calves was done. It was ironic that now Dusty was gone, Adam was handicapped in more ways than one.
Then there was Lipstick, all white socks and unpredictability. So he stood there, aimlessly swinging the rope back and forwards in his hand. But last thing he wanted was to look like some clown getting dragged by Michael’s Circus Pony through the dust.
Lipstick was in the home paddock watching the spectacle but he knew if things upset the balancing act, the filly might well act up too. One broken leg was more than enough for Adam to work with.
‘You gonna ride the horse, Dad?’ Michael climbed the galvanised tubular fencing to sit watching the show.
‘No, mate, I’m not.’
‘Can’t you ride?’
‘’Course I can, son, but I just don’t want to get on that filly.’ He pointed at Lipstick. She looked his way. ‘She gave me a kick and broke my leg.’
‘I can ride her. She’s kind.’
‘Yeah, maybe she took a turn.’ He didn’t put any sugar with his sarcasm, and although Michael mightn’t have understood the expression, he understood Adam’s tone.
‘She told you I was all hooked up in the water.’ Michael chastised him with a look.
Adam sighed. ‘You’re right. She did, and I’m grateful.’
‘Well, you’re going to hurt her feelings. She wants to join in.’
And as he looked over, he saw that the taffy was nodding her head. Adam sighed. Ridiculous.
‘All right. I’ll get on the horse.’
It was the first time he’d been in the saddle properly, since he’d broken his leg. And it was with mixed emotions that he took a headstall from the tack room. The horse eyed him from beneath a pale forelock, blinking big dark eyes, and he realised that his problem was that she just wasn’t Dusty. That, and the fact that she’d given him her best shot with a couple of nasty back legs because maybe the wind had messed with her hair. But Lipstick’s good deed entitled her to another chance.
She put her head down to Michael and he reached up to stroke the animal, without any fear at all. The filly wasn’t bothered by the small arms that snaked around her neck, she just nickered like they both spoke the same kind of language. Adam shook his head a little and limped back to the horse to throw over a blanket and saddle. Adam waited for the tempest when he eased the bridle over her ears and slipped the bit into her mouth. She felt the metal on her tongue for a moment, then relaxed into Adam’s weight as he put a foot into the stirrup to throw his leg over.
Michael had clambered back up to the top rail of the cattle yard, and was clapping his hands.
‘Michael, I want you to get back down. I’m not there to stop you from falling.’ Adam turned the horse and walked it into the pen.
‘I won’t fall.’
‘You can see just as easily from the ground. I’m not going to budge until you do as you’re told.’
‘Okay.’
Adam nodded, tipped the brim of his Akubra forward against the slant of the rays of the sun, and Lipstick showed him that although she might not have had a chance to be a good cow horse, given the opportunity, she might well make a great one.
He forgot about his awkward boot. He threw off all thought of it, and the two of them moved as a team, cutting the calves from the herd of cows. Lippy made them understand that she wouldn’t be fooled by them, and Adam learned that this strong quarter horse had legs for more than kicking; that she was quick and teachable.
Michael had settled down to hunker in the dirt behind the safety of the fence. A wide-brimmed hat shaded his face from the heat as he drew in the soil with a stick. Overhead a stand of ironbarks made an umbrella to filter the sun. Ivy had left her iced tea and come to lean on the rails of the verandah, watching with that pretty smile. He was aware when she brought Michael a cool drink and a banana for morning tea. Although she had come to the station with next to no knowledge of station life at all, she had brought with her a will to try her best in all she set out to do. Maybe one day she would make a horsewoman, and he wanted to be the one to teach her to ride. But more than that, he was touched at how she cared for his son.
It was close to forty degrees and the sweat was coursing down his chest and back. But it wouldn’t be too long before summer headed to a close and the temperature started to drop. Soon Ivy would be gone, too. And no matter the weather, if the mercury should rise or fall, if Ivy wasn’t there with him and Michael on Capricorn Station, there would be less sunshine.
A family didn’t always have the same number of people in it. Situations brought people together, or sometimes drove them apart. He’d had first-hand knowledge that there were times when a family was split fair down the middle, and that it didn’t really feel fair at all. But when people loved one another and chose to be close, surely they were family too?
His marriage to Rachael had split and twisted, like a tree full of borers. The roots hadn’t been strong enough to hold it together. The rot had burrowed too deep. He had no idea why Rachael had gone and left Michael, or even if she intended to return. But Adam would do anything to protect him. After all, the kid needed a father’s love too.
He blinked the sweat from his eyes, glimpsing Ivy and his son. She was wiping his face with a flannel. Ivy wasn’t Michael’s mother, hell, she wasn’t even close to being Adam’s wife, but she was the woman he would choose if she was willing. She’d probably run for her life if she had an inkling of what was on his mind. Capricorn Station was a far cry from the place she came from. It was a few thousand kilometres from her home and might as well have been another world. How long would Ivy want to stay with him and Michael? Could she love his boy enough to care for him like a mother loves a son?
After the work was done, he lifted the hat from the
crown of his head to wipe a sleeve over his forehead. He looked down at Michael and smiled at the patience of his child.
‘Come and we’ll go for a ride.’
Michael’s head came up. He was up and trotting towards his father. Adam lifted Michael into the saddle.
‘Lipstick hasn’t doubled before, so we’ll see how she goes. If she doesn’t get stroppy, well and good, but if she plays up, I’ll let you off.’
‘Is her name Lipstick?’ Michael turned around with a look on his face as though he had a mouthful of something terrible.
‘Yes, it is, but it’s Lippy for short.’
‘Why is her name Lipstick? How about Running Tiger Speed Leopard?’
Adam reined in his laughter. ‘She’s called Lipstick.’
Adam felt Michael nodding. ‘Lotsa girls like lipstick. Ivy sometimes wears lipstick. She puts it on before you come in for tea.’
‘Does she now? Well, well.’ Adam tried to hide his smirk and failed.
‘Makes her pretty.’
‘Ivy’s already pretty, mate.’
‘Yep, she’s beautiful.’
‘Yes, mate, she is.’
‘And her hair is the same colour as Lipstick’s.’ Michael leant over to touch the blonde mane. Lippy’s ears twitched and she walked on. ‘I can ride by myself, you know.’
‘Apparently you can. But I’m not brave enough to watch you just in case this horse thinks she’s going to do some tricks.’
‘You were doing tricks. I’m gonna ride like you one day.’
And for some reason that he couldn’t give voice to, those words were about the best thing his son could ever say. Emotion stuck fast in his throat and lodged there. Adam swallowed and looked out to the horizon. The heat shimmered before the belt of trees that lined the creek. But this moment was no mirage. This was real. This was now.
He recalled the flash of fear that ran through him on the morning that Michael went missing, and he held his son a little closer to him, doing another loop of the home paddocks. There had been the time when he was Michael’s age, and his dad put Adam in the saddle with him and slowly, very slowly, taught him how to ride. Seemed like a lifetime ago.
One day, it would be.
He could almost hear his father’s voice as it had lifted to the ceiling in the dining room, singing some obscure song. For a moment, Adam had put aside the reality of Alzheimer’s disease and the knowledge that one day his father wouldn’t know him at all. Adam wished that special moments like these lasted longer. That memories never died. But sometimes, the truth was, they just did.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Ivy sat down beside Adam’s mum over a cup of tea. She took time to listen, but for all the things that Grace didn’t say, sadness flashed over the woman’s face every now and then. Grace blinked back emotion, tried to hide her distress. She looked tired, but sat upright in the chair as though she wasn’t going to give way to heartbreak.
‘Can I get you another cup?’
But when Ivy returned with a fresh pot of tea, Grace was snoozing on the chair. Sun and shadow from the lattice woodwork dappled her cheeks. She was so peaceful that Ivy turned away to let her sleep.
‘It’s like he’s already lost to me.’ Grace’s broken whisper stopped Ivy. She put down the cups. ‘When I go to visit him, I’ll always ask myself how long it will take before he forgets me altogether. I was his everything, and he’s still mine.’
‘Perhaps after you’ve had some respite, he can go back home. It’s not an answer, and it’s not a cure, but you’re used to looking after one another.’ Ivy put her hand on the woman’s knee.
‘Mum can’t handle him anymore.’ Adam had climbed the stairs to stand on the verandah with them, hands on the loops of his moleskins as he looked over the land.
‘Maybe if he stays at home for longer, his decline won’t be so rapid.’
‘Stress at being shut in a hospital will take its toll,’ Adam conceded. ‘But what about you, Mum?’ Adam turned to ask. ‘Home care only stretches so far.’
‘I’m going to let him stay in over the weekend.’
‘That’s a good idea. You need time to yourself, too,’ Ivy agreed.
‘But I don’t want to be alone, not without Trevor. I want company. I thought perhaps Michael might like to come home with me? We could go shopping. I could spoil him a little bit. I haven’t seen him for so long. I want to spend time and get to know my grandson.’
‘I don’t know, Mum.’ Adam scratched his head. ‘I know you’re more than capable of looking after him—heck, you didn’t go too wrong with me—I’m just being clingy.’ Adam shrugged, ‘Been gone three years. Got a lot of catching up to do.’
‘We can make jam sponge, go to the markets and look at the shops. He needs some new clothes. The ones he has are two sizes too small.’
Adam nodded, perhaps realised he hadn’t noticed the things a mother would. A mother who cared, that was.
‘It’s only for the weekend, Adam. I’m not trying to steal away your little boy, I … I just need someone with me.’ Grace put her head in her hands.
Ivy appealed to Adam without saying a word.
‘Michael was lost to me for three years. I’m just grateful he’s here again. But because he has come back to me, I suppose it’s time he learned who his grandma is too.’
‘Why don’t you stay here for the night and then leave in the morning?’ Ivy said.
Adam nodded, but Grace shook her head.
‘No, I’d rather go tonight. Just give me some alone time with Michael.’
‘All right.’ Adam nodded. ‘But you should leave soon. Before the sun goes down. Kangaroos and emus will be out grazing.’
Grace finished her tea, and Adam stood, as though he’d been waiting for his mum to set down her cup. ‘I’ll go and get Michael packed.’
The screen door closed and Grace gave her attention to Ivy. ‘So, when are you heading back to Sydney, Ivy?’
‘Supposed to be flying out after the summer season.’
‘Well, that won’t take long to come around, will it? You’re leaving them soon.’
Jarred, Ivy set down her cup. Righted it as it clattered on its side.
What was Grace trying to say?
‘I mean, with Michael just returning home to his father, and Rachael back in town, it will cause confusion with you here. I can see that Adam is becoming attached to you but I don’t think he’s ready to move on, not now Michael’s home again. They need time to bond, as father and son. You can understand that, can’t you? I know that probably sounds brusque, and I doubt there’s any chance for Adam and Rachael to reconcile. It didn’t work out between them the first time.’ Grace leaned closer. ‘But you’re not here to stay. You haven’t grown up on this land—a summer is nothing.’
Ivy blinked. The woman’s disapproval was polite, but Grace’s charity had grown cool.
Traditional country women made scones. They served dinner at five, sharp. They made knee rugs and knitted slippers, and sometimes took potluck at the scandal of main street gossip. People from the country were insular. Outsiders were rarely welcomed.
Even now.
Especially not so close to the home paddock.
‘I’ve fallen in love with the land, Grace. I still haven’t made my decision about what I’ll do when summer ends.’
‘Yes, dear, I know. But it’s very hard when children are involved. I’m thinking of what’s best for Michael, you know.’
‘Why are you telling me this? Shouldn’t you talk to Adam about your concerns?’
Grace wore a smile, but her finger came up and pointed sharply, to punctuate each word. ‘I know you’re a nice girl. I know you’ve come a long way. But you’ve stepped into a situation that doesn’t involve you, and you’re only muddying waters by staying.’
‘Have you spoke
n to Adam? Have you heard what he has to say?’
Grace scoffed. ‘Adam has been on his own for three years. Of course he wants his own way. And like every other man, he thinks with anything other than his head. Make it easy for him, Ivy. Walk away before he gets hurt anymore.’
Adam came out with a Superman backpack. Michael trotted behind him with a smile on his face.
‘Are you going to come and stay with Grandma?’ Grace asked her grandson now.
All sugar.
Michael nodded. ‘Yep.’
‘That’s good, because Grandma would love to have you keep her company for a couple of days.’ She showered his forehead with kisses. Adam smiled, looking on at the display of affection. It left Ivy feeling more like an outsider that she ever had before. She had failed, once again. But this time she knew she wasn’t the one to blame.
Michael ran towards the stairs. Adam reminded him that Ivy was there.
‘Bye!’ He turned back to wave, and had galloped down and out of sight, Adam following behind.
Grace smiled saccharine, ‘See you Sunday, Ivy.’
Ivy stood there in silence, and at a loss. She watched Adam’s mum taking care as she negotiated the stairs.
‘By the way, Grace’—Ivy walked forward and the woman looked up—‘you don’t know me. You don’t know who I am or what I’ve come from. Please remember that.’
Chapter Thirty-Five
Adam found Ivy in the kitchen. She had pulled out all the pots, pans and baking trays in the cupboards. The contents of the pantry were spread over every available surface. She barely looked up when he hobbled in. He sat down on the only chair unoccupied, as the sound of metal on metal was stacked and stored a little noisier than was necessary.
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