The Homestead Girls

by Fiona McArthur

  What the heck? She forced her gaze to stay where it was. Registered his sudden blink, the brown-black of his eyes hiding the dilation of his pupils, the corner of his mouth lifting. ‘Your wish is my command.’ He pushed out his chair.

  She lifted her hand, stifled a laugh, and looked around at the other diners. ‘No. It’s fine. I feel better just getting that out.’

  ‘Glad someone does.’ He hesitated, then waggled his eyebrows as if to say, ‘We could go now?’ When she didn’t stand up he dragged his chair back in. ‘Damn.’

  She laughed and suddenly everything was okay. The awkward tension had somehow seeped away and there was extra warmth in Morgan’s eyes that wasn’t all about sex.

  The entree arrived. Great timing. ‘Prawn cocktail seems ridiculous in the middle of Australia.’ At least she’d said something.

  ‘They’re frozen, of course,’ he ate one, ‘but it tastes great.’

  That conversation carried them through until the empty plates went away and the main course, wagyu beef, came a little too quickly after that. It was so expensive she couldn’t bear to leave any so she ate it slowly.

  Finally, the conversation began to flow and she realised she was having fun. He asked about Mia settling into the farm, asked about her work at the doctor’s surgery back in Sydney and she told him about the little girl who poked things in her ears and nose.

  He told her a funny story about Lorna’s fundraising last year when they’d auctioned off Rex, and how the woman who’d bought him had just wanted someone to hang a heap of picture hooks in her house and wash her car. Rex had been relieved because he’d been worried about an improper proposal.

  ‘Tell me more.’

  He was looking at her and smiling and she smiled back as he said, ‘Daphne’s dying to attend her first annual Christmas pudding week.’

  She had her chin on her hands, watching him intently. ‘I think she mentioned that. What is it?’

  ‘It’s a fundraiser for the Flying Doctor Service, where mothers and grandmothers and great-grandmothers of the RFDS auxiliary make hundreds of secret recipe Christmas puddings that sell out in days.’

  ‘Women from town make them?’

  ‘And women from distant stations and those who’d moved to town from distant stations. They all come in for a hectic week of making puddings, made in the same way since the 1950s.’

  She could see it clearly. Like the Country Women’s Association on steroids. ‘That’s wonderful. Sounds like it’s right up Daphne’s alley.’

  ‘Lorna is one of the original organisers. The ages of the women range from young to early nineties. Daphne’s requested a week’s holiday so she could join them.’

  Typical. ‘Daphne’s a treasure.’

  He was serious. ‘Daphne epitomises the spirit of the service. That much goodness has to rub off on the rest of us mere mortals.’

  Billie nodded. ‘She cares about everyone.’

  He signalled for coffee. ‘She needs to realise people care about her, too.’ The waiter came over and they ordered coffee.

  While they waited he said, ‘There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask that puzzles me. We moved her stuff out to Blue Hills, a whole trailer load, but there was nothing of yours. Do you have a storage unit somewhere with all your furniture?’

  It had to happen eventually. The delve into her past. Her weird ways and unusual lifestyle. That’s how it started and it was about now that she ordinarily pulled back and never went out with that man again.

  She shrugged. ‘I don’t do “stuff”.’ She shook her head. ‘Mia and I have two suitcases each, a box of kitchen staple supplies and a vacuum cleaner. It all fits in my car. I’ve always rented a furnished flat or apartment. No upkeep like a house. No removalist when you go.’

  She saw his brows draw together as he thought about that. Well, let him think! It suited her.

  He’d sat back to watch her. ‘You moved that often?’

  She shrugged. ‘Sometimes places didn’t work out.’ He’d read her resume, so he would’ve seen how many short-term appointments there were, but she’d explained it away as gathering different experiences for the future. She’d been assembling skills instead of possessions. Experience that would help her with this job.

  ‘So you never want to buy knick-knacks? Say a painting or a vase or something to cherish in your home?’

  ‘Maybe one day. But up until now I wanted to be able to move easily, learn something new, and that’s worked for us. Mia can buy what she likes as long as she’s happy to give it away when we move. I always donate a load of odd bits and pieces to the local Vinnies. She’ll probably be a hoarder when she gets her own house, just for the fun of it.’

  She didn’t want to think about the time an instrument rep had made a sales appointment to see the doctor and he’d turned out to be Mia’s father. Before she’d bundled him out, he’d almost seen the photograph of Mia and her on the desk.

  Billie took a discreet breath and let it out. Refused to let the past spoil a lovely evening. Again!

  She leant her cheek into her hand and looked at him, determined to move past this. She’d heard nothing about him. ‘What’s your story, Morgan Fraser?’

  ‘There’s no story.’

  ‘Who’s the lady in the silver frame in your flat?’

  His eyes narrowed and he studied her thoughtfully. All humour was now gone from his face. Lord, she hoped his wife hadn’t died three months ago with unborn twins or something. Why couldn’t she have kept her mouth shut?

  ‘The woman I was going to spend my life with. I leave her there to remind me to stay focused.’

  She nearly asked if she was dead, but she somehow managed to stop herself at the last second. ‘She’s beautiful.’

  ‘She left me standing in the church. Not one of my happiest moments.’

  Oh, that was just horrible. ‘Did you get to speak to her before . . . ?’

  ‘Nope.’ He said it flatly as if he’d drained as much emotion out of it as he could. ‘I found out why later, but it was stuff she should have told me earlier. Would you like to comfort me? Maybe give me a hug?’

  ‘What, here?’ She gestured dramatically to the other diners. ‘Do you think they’d mind?’

  She saw his shoulders relax now that he’d put it out there. He gave a little shake of his head and his mouth formed a tiny smile. ‘I wasn’t going to do this again, you know.’

  She tilted her head. ‘You hug women in restaurants all the time?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Then you’re not going to do what again?’

  ‘Build rapport. Become intrigued.’ He sat forward, his face almost touching hers as she also moved close to hear. He whispered, ‘I was thinking maybe we could just have sex.’ He eased back and she did the same. But the buzzing had started in her stomach and she couldn’t keep the smile off her face.

  In a more normal voice he said, ‘But now I’m thinking you’re right.’

  ‘In what way?’

  He’d sat well back in his chair now. Physically creating distance between them. ‘I’m beginning to think this is a bad idea.’

  Damn. ‘No problem. I quite understand.’

  ‘I’ll take you home.’

  Double damn.

  Soretta helped her grandfather from the car on Sunday morning, her heart twisting in her chest as she watched him pull himself carefully up the stairs. The doctors said he would eventually regain his strength. His abdominal wounds had been extensive, infected post surgery, and they were going to be slow to heal. But at least he was alive.

  There had been a tiny gift of rain three nights ago, so there was a film of greenish tinge to the ground cover for the first time in months, as if welcoming him home with a promise.

  Soretta lifted her head. It was a promise. Everything would be fine. It had to be.

  The others had gone into town for a Sunday market day, but Soretta suspected they’d planned to give her a chance to ease her grandfather back into his home w
ithout them there. She was finding that these new women in her life were incredibly thoughtful.

  She followed him inside with his bag in her hand, thinking a cup of tea in the kitchen would be nice. But he bypassed the homey kitchen, and headed straight down the polished-floorboard hall to his room, head lowered. Sorretta wondered how much the drive, in fact the whole debilitating experience, had taken out of him. Two months was a long time to be in hospital.

  ‘That room there is Daphne’s, Lorna next to her. On the other side Billie and then Mia. They seem very happy here.’

  Lachlan paused. He’d been kept up to date with the comings and goings in his house. But he barely glanced at the open doors. Though he did pause and look at his granddaughter, and his face softened. ‘You’ve done well. Can’t say it won’t be strange, though, seeing other women in your grandmother’s house.’

  ‘Gran would’ve loved them all. I love them all.’ And suddenly she realised that she did. In such a short time those women had become a part of her life. Even the annoying Mia who wasn’t so annoying anymore.

  And the rent money had stopped the downhill slope of creeping debt and the feminine company had lifted her spirits so much her feet no longer felt like lead as she completed her daily tasks.

  Her grandfather straightened, winced and then his old smile drew the corners of his mouth up. ‘I’m pleased, then. You’re a good girl. The house looks good. The whole place looks good. I’ll be able to help soon.’

  ‘I know you will. But in the meantime, get over the trip out here. The others will be home soon and the place will get noisier.’

  Lachlan nodded. ‘Hospitals are noisy, too,’ he said, and started walking again until he made the length of the corridor and his own room. ‘I’ll have a rest and meet them all later.’

  ‘Okay.’ Soretta scooted past him and put his bag down on the lid of the long camphorwood chest at the bottom of his bed. She checked to make sure everything was perfect and then looked back at the face she’d thought she’d never see here again. ‘It’s good to have you home, Grandad.’

  He kissed her brow tenderly. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Making you hold the fort. Frightening you.’ He grimaced. ‘Missing your birthday. You didn’t even have a cake.’

  She shook her head, remembering, before smiling a bit tearily. ‘That’s not true. Daphne brought me some cake and a candle the first night at the hospital.’

  He grimaced again. ‘More I have to thank her for.’

  ‘Daphne would hate it if you thanked her. Don’t worry about anything for the moment.’ She said again, ‘It’s good to have you home.’ She allowed herself the comfort of holding him close for a moment, before straightening her shoulders and stepping away. Then she quietly closed the door and left him to rest.

  When the others came home that afternoon they brought a couple of cooked chickens, gourmet bread rolls, lettuce and tomatoes, and homemade ice-cream wrapped in layers of newspaper and pulled from the esky. While Lachlan was sorting himself to meet the boarders, they made a low-key spread on the verandah, pushing small tables together and arranging chairs. Soon there was plenty of finger food to enjoy in the shade and celebrate.

  Soretta thought it a brilliant idea. Whether it was avoiding the formality of them all sitting down at the table or Billie and Daphne’s ease at helping people relax, Lachlan’s worried frown disappeared before the first roll was eaten. With Lorna sitting beside him and Soretta herself jumping up at his every want, he had to hold up his hand and ask them all to stop fussing.

  ‘I like the company. I like seeing my Soretta surrounded by women. Welcome.’

  Soretta felt the tears prickle behind her eyes because she’d wanted him to be fine with this so badly. And so far so good.

  The next Tuesday, Soretta made her way slowly back to the house on the quad bike, her eyes scanning the paddocks for fault in the fences or sickly animals. A part of her mind was still on her recent conversation with Klaus about the new man.

  Joseph Porter had started today and looked fine on his resume, over-qualified but apparently desperate for work. His references checked out. He seemed to communicate well with Klaus, which was sometimes a struggle for the best of them, and he did his work for board and lodging and the meagre pay they could afford. But the dogs didn’t like him and she suspected he kicked at them when she wasn’t looking.

  But not all people were animal people and two men were better than one as they came up to the busy time, and the yards needed renovating before the mob had to go through fast.

  She’d always been hopeless at carpentry, and after the last belt on the finger with the hammer she’d decided her loss of production from injury just wasn’t worth it. Her grandfather had said thank goodness there was something she couldn’t do. She still smiled at that.

  But a broken run, or chute, or gate, courted disaster and could cost them hours of lost production at a time when she had extra staff. So it was good he was here. Maybe she was imagining her misgivings. She’d have a word to her grandad and see what he said. He seemed to be stronger since his arrival almost a week ago and Lorna had made him laugh yesterday, though she suspected it had hurt his stomach.

  She saw the bus pull up at the gate and turned towards the slope down to the road with the dogs following her. There was no doubt Mia had taken some of the load off her. Soretta suspected she was also hitting her studies harder now after the discussion they’d had about the town needing a new vet in the future, and apparently Lorna was an unexpected genius with homework. She was glad. It wasn’t Soretta’s strong point and so she hadn’t offered.

  Mia was ridiculously good with animals though, seemed to understand their minds on a different level to Soretta, and they’d both been surprised by how easily the girl had taken to animal husbandry considering this was her first exposure. She’d been impressed with how much Gigi had trusted Mia with her pups.

  Soretta stopped beside her when she came in the gate. The dogs rushed to greet her as soon as she crossed the invisible line onto the station. ‘Take the bike up. I want to walk along this fence line.’

  Mia finished roughing up the dogs who loved her attention. ‘Sure. You don’t want me to come?’

  ‘Nope. Sort the lambs and I’ll be up soon. And make Gigi stay, she’s left the pups again.’

  ‘Okay. They all still fine?’

  ‘Yes, stop worrying.’ They swapped and Mia revved the engine.

  Soretta raised her eyebrows. ‘Not over twenty or you’re dead.’ Mia flashed her a cheeky smile but she did drive off sedately. Soretta knew Billie was nervous about Mia being on the bike, but you could mollycoddle too much. Mia had a reckless streak but she also had a brain.

  An hour later Soretta caught up with Mia as she was sorting the lambs. She inclined her head towards the homestead. ‘What’s happening up at the house?’

  ‘Your grandfather and Lorna are squabbling.’ Mia grinned at her. ‘He looks much better.’

  Soretta smiled back. ‘I was worried.’ She hesitated but she had the feeling Mia might understand. ‘I was terrified he wouldn’t be able to ever come home. That he’d sell the station, or worse, that something would happen and he’d die in the hospital.’

  Mia nodded. ‘He was in there a long time.’

  ‘It’s good to have him home.’ She shook off the past, then looked at Mia. ‘You seem to be getting along with your mum better now?’

  Mia shrugged shyly. ‘I think I’ve grown up a bit. I was mostly bored when she wasn’t home, and got up to a bit of mischief, so it was probably my fault that she didn’t trust me.’

  Soretta could understand that. ‘You’re doing great here. I apprec­iate your help.’

  Mia blushed.’ I love it.’ They both looked at the playpen with the last of the lambs almost ready to go back to the mob.

  ‘I’ll miss them when they’re gone,’ Mia said.

  Soretta shrugged. ‘There’s always something to look after. Puppies. Inju
red birds. Anyway, if you can finish here I’ll go up to the house and have a shower. It was hot walking along the fence line.’

  Mia grinned. ‘Bet it was. I had a nice ride up to the house on the quad.’

  THIRTEEN

  Lorna Lamerton stood with her feet apart and poked her finger at Lachlan. ‘I can shoot a tin can off the fence with a .22 at fifty paces.’

  ‘I don’t believe you, Lorna.’ Lachlan clutched his stomach.

  Billie hoped he managed to control himself because if he didn’t it was going to hurt. She was grinning herself.

  Lachlan had offended their octogenarian guest with his disbelief and now Lorna was telling him to get the rifle.

  Lachlan was shaking his head. ‘I’m sorry. I can’t allow someone without a gun licence to handle a firearm.’

  ‘Excuse me, Mr Byrnes, I carried a gun on my horse for ten years when I was a young woman. I’ve had my gun licence since I was asked to get one in 1996 and I’ve shot more rifles than you’ve had breakfasts. If I have to I can hold the biggest double-barrel shotgun you can find and blow a snake to smithereens.’

  ‘In that case I believe you.’

  Slightly mollified that Lachlan did seem to have come around, Lorna was calming down. ‘So you should.’ She fixed him with a gimlet stare. ‘Now get that rifle.’

  Lachlan stood up. ‘I know I shouldn’t do this.’

  Billie watched them go. She wished she could share the moment with Daphne, who was late home today, because it would have had them both rolling around in stitches, and she was getting used to sharing her thoughts now. The little conversations about anything and everything, about the way you could put mustard in mayonnaise if you had to make a sauce, or the latest on a station family that highlighted a medical need. Or a type of bird that flew over the homestead roof and their friendly rivalry over identifying new ones.

  The really fun stuff was the quick eye contact when Mia or Lorna did something amusing, or the bond they shared over protecting Soretta from some of her massive workload when they could.