by Karen Wood
Holly frowned thoughtfully. ‘I’m not sure.’ She watched Dan jump back suddenly from the van window as it slammed shut. ‘They’ll work it out. I think.’
38
Kaydon looked at the formal table setting, the damask linen, gold-edged plates and cutlery, and large seashells filled with sand and coloured coral. Although it had never bothered him before, he wanted everything to be perfect this time. This time he wanted the Glenvale deal to go through.
Dan gestured towards the seashells with his drink. ‘Nice touch,’ he said. He wore his camouflage suit, which had been washed since it had spent the night in the lock-up, but not ironed. Either Dan had grown another few inches or the trousers had shrunk, because his bare ankles poked out from the bottom of his trousers. Runners, no socks.
‘Mum reckons it’ll make them feel more at home,’ said Kaydon. ‘Kinda welcome, you know.’ He took Dan’s drink and raised it to his nose. ‘Just checking,’ he said. ‘Don’t you dare stuff this up.’
Dan gave him an incensed look. ‘Moi?’
‘Serious, Dan.’
Kaydon’s father stuck his head in the door. ‘Can you come and talk to me in my office?’
Kaydon got that heavy feeling that he always did when he was called into his dad’s office. ‘Sure.’ He pointed to Dan’s drink before he followed his dad out of the room. ‘No alcohol.’
‘Hey, I’m the investor. Shouldn’t you be sucking up to me?’
‘No.’ Kaydon left the room.
‘Where’s the respect?’ he heard Dan mutter behind him.
Pat Armstrong sat behind his desk. ’Aaron is still keen to run Glenvale once he gets out of hospital.’
That was good. But it wasn’t the reason his dad had him in here. Kaydon sat there silently, waiting for whatever came next.
His father let out an enormous sigh and pushed himself away from the desk. He ran both hands through his greying hair and stared at the ceiling. Then he pulled himself together and got back to business, tapping the pen against the desk. Tap tap tap tap tap . . .
Kaydon reached out and stilled Pat’s pen. ‘What do you want, Dad?’ He silently prayed this conversation was going in the direction he thought it was going.
‘I want the Harvey family to stay at Glenvale,’ said his father. ‘Manage it.’
’Yeah, I know that,’ said Kaydon. It was the whole reason for this dinner.
‘It’s either that or bloody Dan will end up running it,’ said Pat. ‘He should be back at school.’
‘So, what’s the problem?’
Pat Armstrong scowled like a petulant child. ‘They want to do things organically. Especially now that their mum has cancer.’
‘That’s great!’
Pat shook his head. ‘Organic farming is too labour-intensive.’
‘But organic produce fetches higher prices. The export market for beef is struggling now, why not produce something for a different market?’
His father rubbed his chin and looked thoughtful.
‘I can tell you more about it if you have time.’ Kaydon could feel himself getting on a roll. His dad was actually listening to him. ‘Glenvale would be a great place to trial new ideas. You’ll get certification faster because the ground has been fallow without chemicals for years. It’s a fantastic opportunity, Dad.’
Pat began tapping his pen again. A good sign. Kaydon felt his hopes rise. ‘Anyway,’ said Pat. ‘I think you should go back to Bentleigh, finish your education.’
Kaydon was speechless with relief. He laughed. ‘Thanks, Dad.’
‘Let me talk to Ken. Most of the work out there is building and fencing. He would have to work closely with Aaron, who would run the livestock side of things.’
Bron walked into the office. ‘I’m planning a fundraiser for Melinda. I thought we could go psychedelic seventies and have a vegetarian feast, how fun would that be?’
Pat screwed up his face. ‘I’m not eating vegetarian. Crikey, woman, I’m a fourth-generation beef farmer!’
‘We’ll make it next holidays,’ said Bron, ignoring her husband. ‘All you have to do, Kaydon, is look gorgeous and bring a nice girl.’
‘I think I can manage that,’ said Kaydon.
The doorbell rang through the house. Pat tapped the pen a few more times. ‘Right. Let’s go to dinner.’
Dan and Mrs Tremonti were already on the front verandah, along with the Harvey family. Holly stood with her parents, wearing jeans and a pretty shirt. Before he could get to her, his phone chimed in his pocket. He quickly pulled it out and looked. The text was from Chrissy.
Congrats on saving the koalas. Dad’s pissed. When you get a minute can you fwd Brandon’s mobile number?
Brandon’s number? Had he missed something? He shook his head, put his phone away. Maybe later.
He took Holly by the hand. ‘Come in.’
‘Whooor,’ said Eva, ‘this is a like a castle!’ Her smile spread almost to the pigtails on either side of her head. She disappeared down the hallway in a series of exclamations. ‘Look at the golden horses!’ She’d found Dad’s polocrosse trophies.
After pre-dinner drinks and peanut-catching competitions, they sat at the big table.
‘So tell me, Mr Tremonti,’ said Kaydon, passing Dan the vegetable mornay and putting on his Mr Parker voice. ‘What do you think of carbon sequestration?’
‘As in geo-sequestration?’ Dan put on a posh voice, making Holly giggle. ‘Won’t be any of those shenanigans going on while I’m in charge.’ He pulled a fat cigar out of his top pocket and hung it from the corner of his mouth.
‘Don’t you dare light that thing,’ Bron warned.
‘Purely for effect, Mrs A,’ Dan assured her.
Kaydon saw his father roll his eyes. No way would Pat Armstrong be letting Dan run the joint.
‘And tell me, Mr Tremonti,’ Pat said. ‘What are your thoughts on finishing school?’
‘He thinks it’s a great idea,’ said Dan’s mum quickly.
Jerry came in from the barbecue and put a platter of seafood and meat on the table. He took a seat between Holly and Jake.
‘Lake and steak!’ said Jerry. ‘Hook in, everyone!’
Holly took the tongs and hesitantly snapped at a small piece of meat.
‘Thought you were a veggo?’ said Kaydon.
Holly picked up the steak and held it in front of her as though she was inspecting it. ‘I figured if I could kill an animal, it would probably be morally okay for me to eat one, as long as it wasn’t raised in a feedlot.’ Her face still looked decidedly uncertain.
‘Grass-fed beef,’ said Pat. ‘You’ll be a supermodel before you know it.’
‘Don’t feel pressured to eat it,’ Bron smiled.
‘Actually, I only shot it, Kaydon killed it.’ She put the steak back and helped herself to some vegetable mornay.
39
Holly took the weekly roster she had just drawn up and clamped it on the fridge with four large magnets. Everyone, including Dad, had been taking turns at hanging out the washing. They’d all had a go at making dinner, even Eva. She didn’t care if they had to work on the building site all day and then cook. There was an equal distribution of labour in the hut while she was in charge! Especially now that she was going to the local agricultural school, learning organic farming.
The roster gave her mother plenty of time to travel back and forth from Tamworth without worrying about home. She could come back and rest after her treatments. Sometimes she slept for days.
On the kitchen bench, her laptop pinged, and she eagerly checked her Facebook messages. Three from Jenny.
As requested – pix of Rocket
The two photos that followed nearly melted Holly’s heart. A tiny two-year-old girl sat on Rocket. She had no helmet or shoes, just a little summer dress, and she smiled through the baldy-face horse’s ears. In the next photo the tiny girl led him around a yard with the rope dragging on the ground. Holly winced when she saw her bare feet so close to Rocket’s bi
g hooves.
‘Gentle soul,’ she said softly, stroking the photo of her old horse. ‘You’re such a good boy.’
Jenny instant messaged:
They love him!
Holly replied: How’s Gidget?
The RDA reckon she’s going great!
Holly smiled: Wanna see a pic of our new horses?
She uploaded some shots of Penny and Pilot.
Omg – they’re gorgeous! I want to see one of Kaydon!!!!
Holly saw the time at the bottom of the screen. Only half an hour until Kaydon’s bus brought him home: Maybe later. Gotta fly!
She peered out the window. Outside, the new house was nearly at lock-up stage. The yard had been slashed, there were new tanks, and Aaron had built post-and-rail fences around the homestead. Brandon had helped and the two of them had become solid friends.
Holly pressed her lips together, sad that Brandon still wanted to go back to the coast after the house was finished. He missed the ocean. She still hoped he would change his mind. Once they lived in the big house, there would be more space. It wouldn’t be so cramped.
Two horses grazed on the patches of grass that had grown since the fire. She and Pilot had done a lot of miles while Kaydon had been away, wandering along the quiet rural roads, splashing through creeks and generally enjoying each other’s company.
Beyond Pilot were the Tremontis’ cattle, still thin, but with much more cover over their ribs. Holly had loved driving them along the stock route, ten kilometres a day, and watching them ravenously pull at the grass along the side of the road. She had helped take them down to the creek to water and pushed them along every hour or so to keep them moving towards the Rockleigh yards.
Then, as they had driven them towards Glenvale, she had slept under the stars along with Jake, Dan, Kaydon and Mr Armstrong. Marley had curled up with her in her swag. The experience had only made it harder to say goodbye to Kaydon when he went back to boarding school.
Last time she had seen him, he was in his uniform: blazer, tie and shiny shoes.
‘I want to scruff you up,’ she’d said to him. ‘You look too neat.’
‘Don’t do that, the dorm master will freak.’ He had squeezed her hand. ‘Wait till I get back, you can scruff me all you like.’
‘I plan to,’ she said, ‘starting with that over-starched shirt.’
He groaned comically. ‘Damn it, woman, I love it when you talk messy to me.’
Holly laughed out loud as she hurried to the front door. Not long now until she could mess him up again. Cover him with yummy, smacking, delicious kisses. She pulled on her boots and jammed the big hat on her head. Then she slipped a bridle over Pilot’s ears and vaulted onto his back.
She rode alongside the neighbour’s golden canola crops. It hadn’t taken long for the land to change colour. The rain had lasted for a week, soaking deep into the ground and waking the dormant seeds, washing the worms and making them wriggle, nourishing from deep inside the ground. New tender green shoots covered the land, hiding the charred stubble of the fires.
Ahead the old blue bus glided towards her. She slipped off Pilot’s back and let him graze around the letterboxes.
He was in the doorway as the bus stopped, with his duffle bag over his shoulder. When he stood in front of her, he dropped the bag and put his hands on her waist.
Tingles shot up her arms. She ran her hands around his neck. His skin was smooth and warm. She ran her fingers through the tiny curls on the back of his neck.
‘Messy enough?’ he asked.
Neither of them waited for the answer.
Holly reached up and her lips met his as he leaned down to her. She ran her hands through his blond-brown hair and pressed against him. He kissed back, hard, as if he had been waiting for way too long. She didn’t know how long she stood there, devouring his gorgeous messiness.
Eventually, his kiss slowed and he mumbled into her mouth. ‘Rainbow.’
She opened her eyes and saw him looking over her shoulder. She broke away and looked out over the neighbour’s canola. Their flower heads drooped with the weight of the recent rain. A giant arc of colour bowed over the Rockleigh paddocks, and shafts of light beamed through the grey-purple clouds.
It reminded Holly of a crystal chandelier she had once loved, dancing little rainbows of happiness around her home. With Kaydon holding one hand and Pilot’s reins in the other, she led them towards her new home, prisms of light bouncing off the walls of her heart.
Acknowledgements
To my friend Kerry, who really did get stuck up a tree on a pig hunt, thanks for the inspiration, and I’m glad you made it back down. Steve, if I ever find myself in Kerry’s predicament, you will be the one I call – thanks for the tips on shooting. Thanks also to Kathy, my wonderful friend who really did get stuck in dust storms and wrestle snakes at the clothesline; it’s always fun sharing adventures with you. Members of Gunnedah Pony Club gave me a great excuse to come and research a beautiful town. Ben Browning helped by sharing his experiences in Barraba with me! Thanks also to the friendly officers at the Gunnedah Police station for the lowdown on life in the lock-up.
Most importantly I want to thank Charlotte Gerhardt, who kindly allowed me to use her blog entry about the drought to give true insight into the conditions our farmers were facing at the time of writing this book. Thank you, Charlotte, and may you get rain soon.
About the Author
Karen Wood is the author of the five Diamond Spirit books and Jumping Fences. She has an Arts degree majoring in communications and a diploma in horticulture. She is married with two children, a few horses, some dogs, chooks and a very cute rabbit. She lives on a small acreage on the Central Coast, New South Wales, where she spends as much time as possible with kids and horses or at her laptop, dreaming up a new book.
