Mountain Ash

by Margareta Osborn

  Jodie struggled all the more. She couldn’t move. There were straps across her chest, her legs. ‘I have to stop him!’ she cried.

  The more she battled to get up the more she realised they had her completely immobilised. There was even tape across her head, for God’s sake. She pulled against the strapping forcing her to stay on the spinal board. ‘Must stop him. Gotta stop him …’

  ‘Ms Ashton! You can’t go anywhere!’ The nurse was back.

  ‘Parnie, no! Must stop him … Milly, get me my boots, my clothes …’

  Milly scrambled towards the plastic bag on the floor beside the visitor’s chair.

  ‘Ms Ashton, you have the high potential for a very serious spinal injury. You can’t leave this hospital.’

  ‘He’s going to shoot my horse!’

  ‘No, he’s not,’ came a new voice. Muriel Bailey stood in front of her, resplendent in lolly-pink gumboots, lime-green skirt, fake gun-holster belt and cerise vest with tassels, all topped off with blue-rinse curls. She was at the end of the bed looking like a garishly dressed Calamity Jane. ‘I stood in front of Parnassus so he couldn’t.’

  ‘You what?’ chimed three voices at once.

  Grinning, Mue looked down at her fingernails, rubbed them against her shirt. ‘’Twas nothing really.’

  Jodie released her vice-like grip on the straps and the nurse quickly covered her patient – as if that was going to stop her from leaving again. Milly, dropping her mother’s boots, ran up to the older woman and hugged her. ‘Oh Muey, I knew you could do it.’

  Mue patted the child’s head while gazing, unsmiling now, at the woman on the bed. ‘Alex was so angry at Parnie he wanted him dead.’

  Jodie chewed at her lip. She wanted to say something but, goddamn it, the sudden pounding in her head really hurt. She stopped a moment, allowing the pain to subside. Wincing, she tried again. ‘But it wasn’t Parnie’s fault.’

  ‘I know, I know,’ said Mue. ‘Clem and I and everyone else tried to tell him that, but he wasn’t in the mood to listen. In his eyes Parnassus had hurt you and that was enough.’

  ‘He wants to buy me another horse.’

  ‘So he said,’ said Mue in a grim tone. ‘But didn’t your dad give you Parnassus?’

  Milly flung herself back out of Mue’s arms. ‘Yep. Grandpa sure did! He said his three favourite things on the earth had to look after each other.’

  Jodie closed her eyes. She’d forgotten he’d said that. The day before he died. On the verandah of his house in Narree. The late afternoon sun had been bathing his pain-worn face with light. It was one of the last lucid things he’d said before they’d had to call the ambulance to take him to hospital for his final twenty-four hours.

  ‘Parnie didn’t look after Mummy today, but he didn’t mean it,’ said Milly, crossing her arms in defiance. ‘He just got all excited and thought he was doing the right thing.’

  Trust her daughter to put it so succinctly.

  Mue was nodding. ‘Yes, I know.’ The older woman sighed and swiped a hand across her forehead. ‘Clem’s got Parnie now. He’ll look after him.’

  ‘Just as we will look after you, Ms Ashton.’ The nurse again, sounding all self-righteous. ‘We need to treat you for the worst. If and when it turns out okay, only then can you get up. In the meantime you will stay flat and straight and that collar will stay on.’

  Jodie rolled her eyes. Her eyeballs felt like the only part of her body she could move freely.

  ‘Mummy, you always tell me not to roll my eyes!’

  That kid didn’t miss a trick.

  ‘I know it’s a pain in the neck,’ the nurse smiled grimly at her own little joke, ‘but the alternative is not worth thinking about.’

  No. It wasn’t. Who would look after Milly then?

  Jodie looked to Mue and couldn’t help but notice the older woman seemed all done in. And there was a butterfly inked onto her right cheek.

  ‘Mue? Why the butterfly?’ she asked, mesmerised by the beautiful colours swirling on the butterfly’s wings. At the moment it was a lot easier to think about the simple things, like butterflies dancing on an old woman’s cheek, than about the possibility of being a paraplegic for the rest of her life.

  Mue slapped a hand to the side of her face. ‘Dearie me, I forgot about that.’

  ‘And those?’ said Milly, pointing to Mue’s waist. ‘The tubes in your holsters?’

  A puzzled Mue glanced down in the direction of Milly’s gaze. ‘Oh! You mean these?’ She dragged some paints out of her fake gun belt. ‘I had just started face painting when Jodie came off that horse.’

  Mue never forgot about anything. Jodie’s accident must have scared the daylights out of the woman. Which meant it must have looked a bad one. Which also meant she might have done more damage than she knew. Experimentally Jodie wiggled her fingers and toes. To her relief they responded, but it did little to halt the frigid, twisting sensation in her gut. She needed to find out what was wrong with her. Right now. ‘Where’s the doctor?’ she demanded of the nurse. She needed to go home, look after her daughter, check her horse. Pack up her father’s house, move to a new place. She had far too much to do to lie around here. ‘Get me the doctor!’

  A tousled head of black hair appeared through the gap in the curtains. The stethoscope around his neck and an air of authority denoted him as the doctor. ‘What’s going on here?’

  The nurse rushed forwards and dragged him into the cubicle. ‘This patient arrived in an ambulance earlier. She’s come off her horse, had LOC, been spinal packaged and has a minor head laceration. The bleeding is controlled now.’

  That accounted for the metallic taste accompanying the gravel in her mouth.

  The nurse went on, ‘She is now becoming agitated –’ (as Milly would have said: ‘What a dibber dobber!’) ‘– and we need her scanned stat.’

  The nurse actually said ‘stat’, just like they did in the movies. As though it was really, really urgent. Which from the nurse’s grim face, it was. Shit, shit, shit. Ripples of cold dread flooded Jodie’s mind. From outside came the scream of an approaching ambulance. The doctor rumpled his hair and looked all the more flustered. ‘Bloody hell, not another one. Welcome to Trauma Saturday in Narree,’ he said to no one in particular. He scratched his head again and looked at the clipboard the nurse had handed him. ‘Righto. I’ll do the paperwork and we’ll get an X-ray on the way.’ He then disappeared in a flurry of curtain.

  Trauma Saturday, hey? Prickles of fear skittered across her skin. Shit, shit, shit again. What had she done? Jodie raised her eyes to the ceiling and started praying. Dad, get me out of this one. Please make there be nothing wrong.

  The nurse scurried around doing a set of obs. Blood pressure, pulse, temperature and a neurological assessment, all witnessed by a now silent Mue and Milly. The ‘stat’ thing and word ‘trauma’ must have got to them too.

  ‘Now I’ll just shine this little light into your eyes to check your pupils.’

  Milly piped up. ‘Mum’s not a teacher. She doesn’t have pupils.’

  Jodie wished she could laugh. ‘It’s to see if I’m still concussed, Milly,’ she said. My goodness, what was going through her poor little girl’s mind?

  ‘Oh.’ Milly subsided back into the chair. Jodie couldn’t see her and that caused momentary panic.

  ‘Milly? How about you and I go outside and ring Clem?’ said Mue. ‘He wants to know how much tucker to feed Parnie. You can talk to him about that, all right?’

  Clem Bailey, Mue’s son, was as good a horseman as you could find, so Jodie knew Mue was just trying to get Milly outside and away from seeing her mother like this. She silently blessed the woman for that, but at the same time didn’t want to be alone. Where was Alex? Surely he’d be here by now?

  ‘Mue? Alex?’

  The older woman glanced over from where she was hurrying Milly out through the curtains. ‘He’s gone home,’ she said, sounding apologetic. ‘He had to go back up to the farm. Some emergen
cy with cattle out on the road and with so many people about for the campdraft, well, he didn’t want any more accidents. He’s texted me a number of times to see how you are …’ She left the sentence hanging.

  ‘But he’s not coming any time soon.’ Jodie finished it for her.

  ‘Well no, but you know Alex …’

  Yes, she knew Alex. Work came first. And he was looking after everyone else’s safety too.

  ‘He wants updates and said he’ll be along when he can get away.’

  Of course he would. He’d make sure everything was right at the farm and he’d be back. Jodie closed her eyes. Visualised Alex. His rugged, strong face topped with silver hair. The square, solid jaw and reassuring smile. Cornflower-blue eyes … that could turn to chips of arctic-blue.

  ‘Bye, Mum. We won’t be long,’ said Milly, bringing Jodie’s mind back to the emergency department.

  ‘Okay, sweetheart. Tell Clem to give Parnie a hug from me.’

  Mue hustled the little girl out of the cubicle and Jodie was left alone.

  She shut her eyes and tried to channel some of Alex’s strength, to will away the worries that threatened to swamp her mind.

  Jodie had taken to counting the beeps coming from her IV machine. It all took so long. Waiting. Being trundled to X-ray. Waiting. Scans. Waiting some more.

  Milly was by her side, playing with Mue’s phone. Mue was dozing in the visitor’s chair.

  Finally the doctor returned, not looking any less ruffled than when she’d last seen him, which seemed like hours before. He stood over her. She concentrated on the hairs poking from his ears. What’s better to think about? Paraplegia or tufty ears? It was a no-brainer, really.

  The man took a deep breath.

  Apprehension twirled like a tornado in her tummy. Brian. His badge said he was Brian. Maybe if she just concentrated on …

  ‘Ms Ashton.’ Another deep breath.

  Oh God, what had she done?

  ‘I’ve got good news for you …’

  Good news?

  ‘Your scans are all clear. You are one very lucky campdrafter.’

  Jodie could barely take his words in. She was okay! She was fine!

  ‘We’ll need to keep you in here …’

  She was fine, which meant she could go home.

  ‘… another four hours …’

  ‘But I’ve already been here that long!’

  The doctor looked grim. ‘You have had a very serious head injury with loss of consciousness and we still haven’t determined if your laceration will need stitches …’ He stopped and seemed to be deciding what to say next.

  Jodie started plucking at the straps still holding her to the bed.

  The doctor spoke in a no-nonsense tone. ‘Listen, young lady, you need to slow down. I had a fellow last week who presented identically and he was paralysed from the waist down. You’re fortunate you didn’t end up in the same situation.’

  Jodie stopped her plucking and saw he was deadly serious. Things could have been a whole lot worse than spending a few hours strapped to a hospital bed.

  ‘Yes, Brian,’ she said in a small voice.

  Brian’s face softened and he patted her shoulder. ‘You have a lot of living left to do. And you have a beautiful daughter here.’ He swung to include Milly in the conversation. ‘You need to stay in one piece to look after her.’

  Guilt swamped Jodie’s mind. Milly. She would do anything for her.

  ‘Yes, Brian,’ Jodie said again.

  ‘We’ll sort out your head wound. Either do stitches or glue it. Do you have anyone who you can stay with tonight, so you’re not alone?’

  Alex? But he still hadn’t arrived.

  ‘I’ll look after them,’ said Mue, who was leaning forwards in her chair, listening to everything the doctor was saying. ‘They can come home with me.’

  ‘Oh Muey, are you sure?’ said Jodie. ‘We don’t want to be any trouble.’

  ‘No trouble at all,’ said the older woman, turning to the doctor. ‘What do I need to watch for?’

  ‘Vomiting, increasing headache, blurred vision, photophobia …’ At Mue’s questioning look he explained. ‘I mean light hurting her eyes. And she needs someone to keep an eye on her, at least for the next twenty-four hours.’

  Mue was nodding. ‘Right. Done.’

  Jodie could have kissed the woman. Except she was still strapped down. ‘And the strapping?’ she said to the doctor.

  Brian finally gave a small smile. ‘It can come off. I’ll organise a nurse to do it right now.’ He swung to move away then turned back. ‘And remember what I said. Take it easy. You’re going to be very sore tomorrow. Rest up a bit.’

  Jodie gave a small reassuring grimace of her own. ‘Okay, I will.’

  As if. She had a million things to organise – but she wasn’t going to tell Dr Brian that.

  Chapter 3

  She’d been giving Nathaniel the come-on look all week, and those big brown eyes were playing hell with his libido. He shifted in the saddle, trying to get more comfortable. The girl shouldn’t have been let loose on the ringers, that’s for sure. He looked behind him towards the dissipating mob of cattle and could see the final stragglers coming towards the yards. Thank God for that. He could get out of here real quick.

  He glanced at the new governess again. She’d arrived at Mount Elizabeth station on the bus from Alice Springs. The boss’s wife’s niece apparently, from Melbourne’s inner east. Why the hell he remembered that, he had no idea. Guessed it was because that was a lot closer to his own childhood home, Glenevelyn, far, far east of the capital of Victoria, than they were up in the territory. Glenevelyn was a sprawling mansion in a remote valley, surrounded by thousands of acres of bush – also vastly different from the dust of Mount Elizabeth.

  He glanced at Danielle once more. Those scraps of clothes showed off a figure that was so good it was insane to think anything could look that perfect.

  He shook himself. He was thirty-four years old. The girl barely nineteen. This place was playing with his head. Women like Danielle weren’t exactly common out on a cattle station in the Northern Territory. He took another look down the paddock. He could see the top of Wally Price’s high-topped Akubra hat. Good. That meant a cold shower was at least within reach. Maybe another fifteen minutes and he’d be there …

  A soft hand clasped his forearm. He jumped slightly before turning to look down into what even he thought was an indecent amount of cleavage. What did teenage girls do these days to get knockers that big?

  ‘You look hot and bothered, Nate.’

  And how did they do that? Pout those full lips just so …

  ‘Perhaps you need a bit of cooling down? I can be waiting by the homestead swimming pool in ten.’

  Nate managed to lift his eyes from the decadent bosom and stare at the girl. ‘Staff aren’t allowed in the boss’s pool.’ That wasn’t strictly true but it would do for now.

  ‘Oh.’ Danielle looked momentarily beaten. She stroked his arm with her long nails. ‘Where do you go to cool down then?’ she asked.

  Nate threw out an arm, waving vaguely towards his donga and the river. ‘A shower, the waterhole, wherever.’

  The girl stood up straighter and leaned into his stirrup leather, a swinging fender setup that threatened to be swallowed by her bust. He tried not to think about how it would feel to be that slip of leather in all that cushiony warmth.

  ‘I could scrub your back?’ There was a whisper of a smile, enough to make you want more …

  Fuck it! ‘Errr, I don’t think that’ll be necessary,’ he said, forcing a grin and glancing wildly around. He needed to exit this conversation pronto. ‘Plus it seems like the missus is looking for you.’

  Together they turned to the right, away from the cattle-yards and pens of bellowing cattle.

  He stuck up a hand, waved and yelled real loud towards the homestead grounds where he could see Marion Van Over coming from the main house. ‘She’s over here!’

&
nbsp; Danielle looked pissed. He knew he looked relieved, which wasn’t good.

  He glanced down again and saw he was right. Her face had tightened and those lovely soft brown eyes were now bruised by his rejection.

  He’d seen too many chicks like her and how they worked. The Van Overs might think butter didn’t melt in her mouth, but he and the boys had a fair idea. The fellas were busting their guts to jump her bones. But him? Well, he was over having a different woman in his bed every week. The ones he’d met either wanted to use him until someone better came along – a man who owned a property rather than just worked one, he thought in his most cynical moments – or they wanted a ring on their third finger and someone to support them. He’d never managed to find the lovely women some of his mates had, the ones who wanted you for yourself rather than for what you did - or didn’t - have. He wasn’t sure what he was doing wrong to only attract the likes of Danielle, but he sure as hell wished he could figure it out. In the meantime he was done with women. Casual sex was more trouble than it was worth.

  ‘You slackin’?’ Wally Price pulled up on his horse in front of Nate, grinning, showing that he had only two remaining front teeth, courtesy of a buck-jumping career long past. Thank the Lord the old fella still had his back molars, otherwise he’d have been shovelling gruel into that gob for the rest of his life.

  ‘Nup. Just avoiding going fishing.’

  Wally’s deep-set eyes moved to follow Danielle as she stomped across to her aunt. ‘You don’t like the fishies in these parts?’

  Nate gave a half laugh. ‘It’s not that I don’t like them: I can’t afford the fine. Going fishing without a licence is too risky.’

  Old Wally gave a cynical cough. ‘You’re not down south now, McGregor. You don’t need a licence to fish up here, as you well know. Anyway, since when have you worried about doing things legally?’

  Nate pulled the head of his horse around. Kicked him forwards. ‘Since I grew up,’ he called. Nate heard Wally burst into laughter. He swung back around in the saddle. ‘You got a problem with “grown up”?’