Long Valley Road

by Ross Richdale

"Yeah, but don't kill anyone," Harold warned.

  "I won't. You get the jeep." John, with water streaming off his hat, grunted. "Come on, Bella."

  He sneaked forward while Harold and Sissy went in the opposite direction towards the jeep hidden behind a clump of scrub further along the road.

  John waved at him and stood up. "You bastards!" he screamed at the top of his voice and muttered. "Bark, Bella."

  The little dog did. John jumped up and ran towards the startled rustlers but stopped short, knelt down, lifted his rifle and fired. Three shots were off in quick succession with one pinging off the metal of the truck's cab. The rifleman was deadly accurate and a second shot almost parted one character's hair as he dived for cover beneath the vehicle.

  Other reactions were just as spectacular. Two men turned in alarm to see the farmer charging down at them with a barking dog beside him. Even as they watched, another round was fired and the back window of the truck shattered in a million pieces.

  *

  "Holly shit," the man closest to the edge of the yards yelled and headed for the truck.

  "Leave the rest," the third man ordered. He belted the beast about to enter the truck on the rump, it jumped forward and he slid the cage shut.

  Within seconds, the three were in the cab, a cloud of diesel smoke flew into the air and the vehicle began to roll forward up the road where Kelvin was waiting.

  "Okay Bella." John grinned in spite of the seriousness of the situation. "That'll do."

  The dog, looking a little like a drenched rat, stopped barking and stare up at her master.

  "We'll wait for Harold," John watched as the truck accelerated off before he walked across and opened the rear yard gate. He ordered Bella to chase the dozen or so cattle in the pens back into the paddock.

  The jeep appeared. John and his dog jumped in.

  Harold glanced sideways and grunted. "You're pretty deadly with that rifle. As Kelvin would say, I reckon you scared the shit out of them."

  "Yeah," John replied. "They even headed up the road as we anticipated. Obliging of them, wasn't it?" He produced the mobile phone and was onto Kelvin within seconds. “They’re on their way," he said and punched in another number.

  It was the police. After he brought them up to date they said they would be about five minutes behind them.

  " Right," John replied and grinned across at Harold. "About half a mile to Kelvin's road block," he said and sat back to relax for a moment.

  *

  The capture of the three rustlers would have been an anticlimax except for one thing. The police car arrived just behind the jeep. Kelvin, his brother, Frank Amberley and a couple of other locals had parked a D8 Caterpillar bulldozer across the road and had the cattle truck surrounded before the rustlers realized there was an ambush.

  Within minutes, Brian Kingsfield and a local constable had the men handcuffed in the police van.

  John studied the three and realized he knew the leader. It was Mic Werner, Kylena's ex-husband. John's face dropped. He swallowed, stuck his jaw out and purposely walked forward with the rifle grasped in his hands.

  "You!" he snarled and caught the man's eyes. "You despicable little bastard. I've a good mind to..." The rifle barrel raised a fraction.

  Brian Kingsfield though, intercepted him. "Leave it be, John." The detective clasped a hand on John's arm "He isn't worth it."

  "Yeah, I guess but that's the bastard who would have raped and killed Kylena if I hadn't arrived. He's a merciless killer."

  "Possibly, but let the court deal with him." replied the policeman, " I reckon we've got a case to have him put away for quite a while. If you threaten or assault him, it will only work to his advantage in the long run."

  "Listen to him, John," Harold said.

  The farmer stared at the police car with venom in his eyes. "Tell the bastard if he as much as sets one foot within a mile of Kylena I won't aim over his head next time." he whispered and stalked back to the jeep.

  The policeman hesitated, caught Harold's eye and sighed. "Tell John we'll do what we can but he should not take the matters into his own hands."

  Harold nodded. "I'll try," he said.

  "Well, mate," Kingsfield muttered at Werner when he arrived back at the car. “You are one lucky bastard."

  "How do you figure that?" Werner retorted.

  "If we weren't here, I reckon your brains would have been blown out by now. John Berg said if he sees you near the place again that's exactly what he'll do." He grimaced. "I would not take his threat lightly if I was you."

  *

  Werner was about to mutter a sarcastic reply when he gazed out the window. Less than ten metres away John stood with hands clasped to his rifle and eyes that bore into him. The expression in those eyes sent a shudder up the criminal's back. He was a tough customer but felt fear that moment, the fear that cowards find when they are on the receiving end of a situation. He had no understanding of remorse so took John's gaze literally. The big American was not one to cross, those eyes said.

  *

  That evening in the Top Oasis kitchen, Kylena placed the telephone down and turned to John. "That was the police. They've remanded Mic in custody, John," she whispered but could not hide the quiver in he voice. “To think he's been hanging around our farm for at least a month." Her lips trembled but the comfort of her partner's arms helped force those terrible memories, once again to the back of her mind.

  Helen rushed forward and hugged the back of Kylena's skirt. "Daddy will look after you, Mommy," she almost cried. On her own initiative she now called Kylena, Miss Delton at school and Mommy at home. The word, instead of the New Zealand Mummy made the teacher feel proud.

  "Oh Sweetheart," she replied, lifted the heavy child up over her enlarged tummy and smothered her with a kiss. "I know he will." She grinned at John and a worried looking Julie who was also in the room. "I'm so lucky to have you all to look after me."

  *

  "Checkmate," John said, beamed, leaned back on the comfortable chair in Harold's tiny front room and glanced at the rain outside. This was only the second time he'd beaten Harold at chess out of over two-dozen encounters. Almost every morning after dropping the girls off at school, John spent an hour or more with Harold before the pair went up to the farm and began the daily feed out of hay to the animals.

  "You're getting better," Harold replied as he packed the pieces up and handed John a massive mug of tea, it was always tea, and fixed a his eyes on him.

  "So when are you marrying that girl of yours," he asked in a blunt voice. "She's becoming quite rotund."

  "Next year, I guess."

  "After the baby arrives?"

  "That's what Kylena wants. Why?"

  "You young people." Harold scratched his forehead. "It seems all back to front to me. In our day we got married, had sex and babies arrived later.'

  "I know," John laughed. "It takes a bit of getting used to but if you can't beat them, join them, I think the old cliché goes."

  "Well, you did that," Harold muttered.

  John studied the older man. There was something else in his friend's mannerism that suggested the conversation was leading beyond casual gossip. "Why, what's all this marriage talk, Harold?" he asked.

  "I'm the old fashioned sort," the man replied.

  "So?"

  Harold leaned back and sipped his tea. "Your children's grandmother," he muttered in a voice so quiet it was hardly heard. "Do you think ..." He stopped, tossed half a biscuit at Sissy and turned his eyes back to his friend. "I'm only three years older than her and I was wondering if..." he hesitated again.

  "Have you bedded her yet?"

  "I have not," snapped Harold, saw John's smile and gave a chuckle. "Okay, I asked for that but I've got feelings for Fiona and believe she feels the same."

  "Believe? Haven't you asked her how she feels?"

  "The opportunity hasn't arisen," Harold blurted out. "I wanted your opinion on the situation."

  John knew his mothe
r-in-law. She had had affairs back home but he couldn't tell Harold that, of course. He was sure she was interested, though.

  "Fiona is always talking about you Harold. Take my advice and go for it." He grinned. "The whole hog, I'd say."

  "Thanks," retorted Harold with an annoyed frown. He glanced at the wall clock and changed the topic. "Come on, we've got the feeding out to do."

  "Sorry," John replied. "I shouldn't have joked about it but Fiona is keen, Harold. The next step is yours, isn't it? Think of it as a game of chess. You have to think several moves ahead."

  "Aye lad." Harold broke into a grin. "I guess it is."

  *

  "Grandma," said Julie.

  Fiona looked up from the book she was reading. "Yes dear."

  "Why are old people too scared to do anything?"

  Fiona frowned and placed the book down. "What do you mean, Julie?" she asked.

  "I thought it was wrong when Dad started going out with Kylena and look what happened," she said.

  "But you didn't mind," Fiona replied.

  "Oh, I don't. I'm thrilled." Her eyes glued on Fiona. "It's you I'm thinking about."

  "Me?” gasped her grandmother.

  "Oh, for God's Sake, Grandma," Julie retorted "Harold."

  "I admit he's a nice man but..."

  "Damn sight better than that Bud Sutton or even Steve Litchfield back home,"

  Fiona flushed. She never realized her granddaughter knew of her men friends back home.

  "Grandma, Harold is one of the shyest men around. You need to push a little or you'll get nowhere."

  "Thanks," Fiona muttered.

  "That's why I rung him earlier and said you slipped and twisted your ankle. He's coming over to visit."

  "Julie," Fiona gasped. "That's dishonest."

  "Isn't it?" The youngster smirked. "Anyhow, I'm off to bed. Night, Grandma."

  She gave her grandmother a kiss on the cheek and left the room. Fiona shook her head and grinned at the cat. "She's a naughty girl, isn't she, Ginger?' she chuckled when she heard a knock on the door.

  "Hello Harold," she said after opening it and saw the look of concern on his face.

  "Julie phoned and said you'd slipped of the step ladder and sprained your ankle," he began and gazed down at her feet.

  "The little monkey lied." Fiona laughed, "Come in anyhow. It's so nice to realize you care enough to come straight over."

  "Did she, now?" the man replied. "I shall have to speak to her teacher about these devious practices." He walked into the warm kitchen and stood looking self-conscious.

  "Oh Harold," Fiona continued. "You don't need an excuse to visit me. You should know that." She took his hands, bent up and kissed him on the cheek. "We may be getting gray and wrinkled but inside we are the same, aren't we? I mean, our needs and desires."

  "Yes," Harold stumbled but still held his arms around her. "I know what you mean."

  "Then relax," Fiona whispered. "Kylena and John are out and the kids are in bed. There's only us."

  *

  Four hours later, Harold slipped out the back door and headed home with a spring in his step he never knew he had. The experience of the evening knocked thirty years off his life. This was as exciting as those university days when he departed from the girls' dormitory before the matron locked and bolted all the doors.

  He never realized Fiona could be so, well sexy. He coughed. My God he hadn't been so aroused for years and when she wanted to go all the way, John's advice had played in his mind so he did.

  *

  In the downstairs bedroom, Fiona too was thinking back over the evening. She didn't have to do much persuading at all. She knew Harold was a lonely man but he certainly hadn't lost his physical abilities. She rolled over, pulled the blankets up and fell asleep with a smile on her face.

  *

  Kylena and John had Saturday to themselves. Julie was visiting Melanie for the afternoon and Fiona said she'd entertain Helen. The sun was shining so they packed a picnic hamper and headed to the top plateau where John wanted to explore the upper section of the stream.

  When they arrived they stood in the sunshine to gaze around. In front, the road curved away through a cutting while behind, the ranges were backed by the snow-covered Mount Ruapehu. A steep, grass covered hillside sloped away from Harold's gully, where the tree daisies were, to the stream. A belt of willow trees stretched along the bank while, further back, a deep valley was filled with thick ferns, tall totara and other native trees.

  Kylena sat on the grass and replaced her good footwear with old sneakers while John slipped on a backpack and glanced over at her. As usual she looked so fresh and young in her latest style shorts and white tanktop and her pregnant condition in his eyes added to her beauty. He beamed and received a warm smile in return.

  "Come on, John," she called and reached out for his hand. "Let's go but remember our promise. No school, farm or relations talk at all this afternoon. It's too nice a day."

  "You're on," he replied.

  They climbed the Top Oasis boundary fence and made their way into the steep narrow valley where the steam tumbled down through rocks in a series of mini waterfalls. The silence was only punctuated by tumbling water and chirping cicadas along the banks. Finally, they came to a grassy area cut off from the rest of the world by towering cliffs. Rays of sunlight blazed through overhanging ferns and bounced off the colourful wings of half a dozen fantails, cheeky little native birds that chirped and flitted around, catching gnats in the air.

  "Look," whispered Kylena as a red and black butterfly flapped across in front of her.

  "This will do nicely for lunch," commented John. He pushed through the knee-high grass to find a small sandy section bathed in sunlight. Kylena followed and, together they unloaded the backpack and lay on the warm bank to munch sandwiches, talk, drink coffee from a thermos and relax tired leg muscles.

  Kylena leaned her head against a large smooth rock and closed her eyes while John watched. He bent down and without a sound, kissed her lips. She responded by flinging her arms around him but he toppled and they slid several metres down the slight decline.

  "Oh John," she laughed as he held her in his arms and deposited a kiss on her lips, slipped his hand up her tanktop and clutched her brassiere. "You naughty man," but her response was a bruising kiss back.

  John grabbed her, lifted the tanktop over her head and pulled her towards him so he could reach around and undo the tiny clips of her bra.

  "Don't stop," she whispered, grabbed his hand and placed it on her heaving bosom. She leaned back on the grass and smiled while he massaged and kissed the erect nipples.

  "Now, John," she screamed and clung on with fingernails digging into his broad shoulders and knees moved out to give her lover room.

  They reached a spontaneous orgasm of writhing moaning bodies thrusting and vibrating in one frantic movement of sheer delight. With a low moan he halted and held quivering buttocks as sperm ejaculated deep within the woman he loved. For several moments she continued to thrust, moan, kiss and cling until her own orgasm subsided and she lay, bathed in perspiration with her arms around his neck.

  "Hell, my dear," she whispered. "Do you really have to work me up like that?"

  "Me," he exclaimed with an innocent shrug and tickled her armpits.

  She giggled, flung her arms around him again, deposited a kiss on his neck and tucked her head into him. Overhead, the fantails still darted around and the stream tumbled by. It was their world, a secluded beautiful spot that reflected their commitment for each other.

  "I love you, John."

  "Kylena, I love you, too," he replied.

  " ...And remember it as the place where we made love twice," Kylena added.

  "Twice," replied John. "I only remembered once."

  "Don't worry," whispered Kylena. "I'll get you ready for the second round."

  And she did.

  *

  CHAPTER 12

  September brought change to Top Oa
sis. It was spring and the busiest season of the farm year. Though only breakfast time, John had already been out two hours doing the lamb beat in pouring rain. Since the lambs had begun to arrive, the weather had been continuous rain and the implement shed was filled with a dozen orphaned lambs that the girls had to bottle feed every morning.

  Other changes were apparent, too. The third term was over, school holidays had arrived and Kylena was on the first day of maternity leave. In the new term, Courtney O'Reilly would take the senior class while Vicky Taylor, after six months at Long Valley Road School would become acting principal. This situation was a worry to Kylena and was one reason she'd left her leave for so long.

  "It's not that Vicky isn't a good teacher," she explained to John.” She is, but can’t be decisive enough in administration or when dealing with parents. One or two sense this and are already beginning to boss her around. I'd rather have Courtney's maturity."

  "I know," John replied and chuckled. "Anyhow, Julie won't let her get away with anything, will she?"

  Kylena grinned, "That's for sure. She's as good as an extra teacher around the place. Only last week she just about flattened one of the Year 6 boys who sniggered about my size." She rubbed a hand over her protruding tummy. 'Three months to go My Love. It seems like the time will never arrive. Also, there is that visit to see my parents to get through.”

  Even though it was a busy time on the farm John promised to accompany Kylena on a journey to Christchurch, a South Island city five hundred kilometres away to visit her parents.

  *

  When the ATR 72 aircraft flew into Christchurch airport, Kylena became quite glum and glanced in apprehension out the window as the Canterbury Plains rolled out beneath them.

  "A duty trip," she commented when John asked what the trouble was. "Dad's a great guy but I'm afraid my mother and I don't get on that well. Dad's retired but Mum is still working with one of those multinational firms as a district manager. That’s the trouble. She's so used to giving orders she can't relax." She shrugged. "I haven't told her of my condition, either."