‘Well, it’s done.’
Jodie started in surprise. Her daughter was back, slapping her hands together and clambering up into the ute. ‘He looked reasonably happy. I must tell Billy about that kissing thing …’
Jodie widened her eyes. Billy? Kissing? That wasn’t the wild stuff she meant! Good Lord, Milly had only just turned seven! And how old was Billy? Eleven or twelve?
But Milly was still talking. ‘And Billy thought he could turn his frog into a princess. I told him he was wrong. That they all turned into princes, which wasn’t going to be much use to him. He’s gotta have a princess and I’ve gotta have a prince. I don’t know why but that’s the way it goes.’ Her daughter sighed. She sounded so age-weary and disgusted that Jodie let out a laugh.
‘What? What’s so funny?’
Jodie smiled, leaned over and ruffled Milly’s hair. ‘You, that’s what’s so funny. I love you, Milly Molly Dooks.’
Her daughter, like most people when faced with Jodie’s larger-than-life smile, including deep dimples on either side of her mouth, couldn’t resist smiling back. The child shuffled her way across the seat and ducked under her mother’s arm, pulling herself in close to Jodie’s side.
‘And I love you too, Mum,’ said the little girl, snuggling in, as though she was seeking reassurance, making sure her mother was there and was going to stay.
‘What say we head up?’ Jodie nodded towards the peak of McCauley’s Hill.
‘Yes!’ yelled the girl beside her. ‘Up we go.’
Jodie rammed the gearstick into first and set the ute moving towards the track, which crabbed across and up the side of the hill.
McCauley’s Hill.
Their new home.
Chapter 5
Jodie hefted the biscuit of hay she was carrying with one hand and unlatched the gate with the other. She walked into the paddock and dumped the load of lucerne onto the ground. Parnassus, hearing her coming, was already waiting to tuck into his meal of wiry green stalks. As with most males, the way to Parnassus’s heart was via his stomach. He had escaped serious injury at the campdraft but had been lame, bruised and sore since. She suspected he still wasn’t a hundred per cent but at least his limp had largely gone. She sat on the edge of the nearby water trough to wait. Sooner or later her favourite boy would have his fill and come over to give her a nuzzle.
In the meantime she could afford to just sit. Look out across the incredible vista of mountains to her left, the lush irrigated flats to her right and just be for a while. The school bus wasn’t due to hit the end of the road until four-thirty. She had a quarter of an hour to do her chores before Milly came home. A few minutes of taking in the view from up here would rejuvenate her tired body and get her ready to weather the onslaught of a cranky seven-year-old who didn’t want to do her homework.
So Jodie sat and just gazed. The soaring peaks of the two mountains in front of her drew the eye. She thought they were Mounts Cullen and Adelong. Well, that’s what Billy had told Milly, who’d told her mother when she was pondering the question aloud one day. Both were magnificent. Jodie reckoned she could have sat there for a hundred years and not grown tired of the view. Old Joe obviously hadn’t grown sick of it either – he’d had to be carted away in a pine box. She wondered if he haunted the place. Not that she was into that sort of nonsense, but sometimes, well, sometimes on a still silent evening, her dog Floss’s bowl would go skittering across the verandah for no real reason. And the light in the front bedroom would come on even though neither she nor Molly had flicked the switch.
A puff of air played with her hair. Jodie jumped then sank back down, relieved. It was only Parnie. He’d finished his late lunch. ‘Crikey, old fella, you frightened me!’
Her horse nickered and nibbled at her hair some more, his whiskers and thick rubbery lips nuzzling her cheek.
‘No, mate, you’re not getting any more. You’ll turn into a fat old mule if I do that.’
The horse nickered again. ‘You old reprobate.’ Jodie laughed. ‘I’m not giving in, you know.’ But she rubbed the chestnut’s neck all the same, loving the feel of his warmth and sleekness. He’d first belonged to her father but Robert had given him to Jodie, sensing she needed to get back a part of herself when she and Milly had first come to live with him. That was just after his diagnosis of the big ‘C’, three years before.
Parnie was special. It was him, her and Milly against the rest of the world.
The sound of a four-wheel drive labouring its way up the hill caught Parnie’s attention. He flicked his ears forwards, flung his head up and snorted.
Jodie put a hand to her brow, trying to see, beyond the glare of the late afternoon sun, who was coming up the hill. Her hill. She unconsciously rolled those words around in her head for a millisecond. Damn, they sounded good.
When she spied the bonnet of the platinum-grey BMW X5, Jodie wasn’t sure how she felt. Pleased Alex had come for a visit? Annoyed that he’d arrived right on bus time, when her little girl would want and need all of her attention? Cross he hadn’t shown his head around the place while she was shifting? Vindicated that his interest in her hadn’t waned even though her moving out here hadn’t been what he wanted?
Alex had had something very different in mind. Three months previously he’d called in to her late father’s house, after dinner, to see how they were going. Had taken her up on the offer of a coffee. It wasn’t unusual to see him. In the two years they’d known each other, Alex had always taken great interest in her and Milly’s lives. And as he was her father’s weekly chess partner, she’d got to know him rather well. Since her father’s death she’d relied on him more and more as a sounding board, so she’d shared with him the news that Robert’s house had finally been sold, and asked if he knew of anyone with a house and small acreage to rent.
Alex’s response had been, ‘You can move in with me.’
Jodie had obviously looked startled because her father’s friend had then backtracked. ‘Into the guest quarters, of course,’ he’d added hurriedly.
‘And my daughter?’
‘Milly too, of course,’ had been his reply. ‘There are two bedrooms in the place.’
Barely, thought Jodie uncharitably. She’d seen the second bedroom of the guest quarters when she’d been given the tour on her first visit. It was obviously only meant to house a pygmy or at the very most a small office table and chair.
‘Listen, Jodie,’ said Alex, his tone warm and inviting. He’d put down his coffee, taken a deep breath and moved in closer to her. Taken hold of her hands. ‘You know I think a lot of you.’ He’d stumbled to a halt, which was interesting because Alex was one of the most articulate men she’d ever known.
She had nodded to encourage the older man, then stared at their interwoven fingers. Up close and personal wasn’t the usual state of their friendship, although recently she’d found herself wondering what it would be like to be in a relationship with such a steady and charming man. As a grazier with historical family property ties to the Narree Valley, he wouldn’t be upping and going anywhere, not like the Rhys’s of this world.
‘Well, I was just wondering if you’d be interested in us seeing more of each other?’
What? Had he been reading her mind?
‘I know I’m a fair bit older than you …’
Like, at least twenty-five years.
‘But I can look after you, provide you both with a home.’
What was he really trying to say here?
‘You don’t have to decide straight away. The death of your father was a huge shock. To you. To both of us …’
Jodie could believe that. Although Alex hadn’t shed a tear at the funeral, as he stood beside her the whole day making sure all went like clockwork to see her father into his grave, she knew the man had been terribly upset. She’d seen that the night she’d called him to come to town for those last few hours of her father’s life. Alex had shed a lone tear as he’d looked down at her father that night, but then shuttered it all away
.
‘Alex …’
‘No, don’t say anything yet. Just think on it for a while. I’ll be back in town at the end of the week. I’ve got a load of bulls to deliver to the sale-yards. A bloke from Benambra is coming through to pick them up on Friday.’
He’d let go of her hands then and headed towards the door, taking his good ‘town’ Akubra from the chair on the way. ‘I can be a patient man when it comes to things that I want.’ He’d turned and fixed her with a long look, one that made his mature, rugged face seem younger. There was a fleeting touch of possession in that look, which made Jodie’s insides momentarily quiver with uncertainty. But it was shuttered away as quickly as it had come, and an engaging smile was back on his face. A grin she had come to rely on for its ability to brighten her day.
‘Think about it, Jodie,’ he’d said. ‘I can make your and Milly’s life very comfortable.’
And then he’d gone. Alex McGregor had been one of her father’s best mates, someone she respected and liked. Charming in his old-fashioned courtesy and ways, he was secure like a rock-solid mountain range. Whereas she, Jodie Ashton, felt vulnerability pressing in on all sides, like a spindly gum tree clinging to soil on an upwards slope.
While the offer of accommodation had been alluring, Jodie had declined, preferring to keep some independence. The Hunters via Mue had offered her the house on McCauley’s Hill and it was perfect. A reasonable little house and room for the horses.
That had just left Alex’s offer of a relationship to deal with, a proposition Jodie’s head was telling her was a good one. Her heart wasn’t so sure. But last time she let her heart rule her head she’d lost out big time, so she’d not said no to Alex’s suggestion.
The all-wheel-drive vehicle was nosing its way into the house yard, as Jodie called it. It wasn’t a garden. A scraggly rose bush was the only flower to be seen that wasn’t a native shrub or a weed. The word ‘Boots’ was emblazoned on a cross near the rose. She’d asked Billy who Boots was, but the young boy had swallowed and mumbled ‘just a dog’. That, by the look of the glassy eyes she’d glimpsed as the child turned away, had not been the truth. She’d left it be, though, figuring Billy would tell them in his own good time.
She could hear the diesel motor of the school bus coming up the road as she watched Alex climb from the car and walk towards the house. He was an auspicious-looking man with a gait that promised someone who was comfortable with his place in the world. His silver hair beneath the Akubra would have looked dowdy on some blokes, but with Alex, it made him look more solid, mature and confident. Like he’d earned the right to stride the earth and be dismissive of anything in his way.
Jodie knew she should have got up, walked towards the house, called out, waved a hand and let him know she was there. But still she sat …
She heard the school bus pause at the bottom of the hill, obviously letting Milly clamber down the tall stairs and tumble out onto the road. She was a pint-sized kid, as Jodie had been. Blonde hair, silvery-blue eyes.
The bus driver crunched his gearbox and revved the motor so he could take off along the road. At that moment Alex appeared from the verandah, making his way down the rickety steps and moving back across the house yard to his car.
And still Jodie sat. She didn’t want to think about tomorrow.
She really should get up. Go say hello and pass the time of day with him. But when her mind didn’t tell her body to get up off the trough as it should have, Jodie realised she was a little more annoyed with Alex than she’d thought. Okay, so he’d needed to attend to his council crisis and he had a station to run. A high-country cattle station. But hadn’t he wanted to spend more time with her? Since the accident she’d hoped he’d be a bit more attentive. But he was busy. Just so busy, she reminded herself. And he had caught up with her. Okay, it was briefly and both Milly and Mue had been there, but then Milly would always be there, so why was she acting like some love-starved teenager? As Dr Brian had reminded her on that terrible night in the hospital, she was a single mother with responsibilities, the same as Alex. Responsibilities, that is. He did have a grown-up son somewhere but he never spoke of him. Some sort of rift years ago. Come to think of it, she didn’t even know the boy’s name. If she and Alex were going to spend time together she should probably rectify that.
Alex was now writing something on a piece of paper. He tramped back to the house, up the verandah steps, again grabbing the rail to steady his way to the top. She really needed to whack a few nails into those steps; they were decidedly creaky. She heard the bang of the screen door. A few minutes later he returned, got into the Beamer and reversed out of the yard. He hadn’t even looked way up beyond the house towards the hayshed, where she was sitting. Probably hadn’t even thought to check, his mind on the next job he needed to do.
And then there was Milly, on her red bike, pedalling her way up the track. The child met and carefully avoided Alex’s vehicle near the massive red gum tree that marked the start of the steepest part of the hill.
She should go rescue the child. That part of McCauley’s Hill was a tough haul. Jodie jumped off the trough and climbed over the gate. She made her way down towards the house, watching as the brake lights flashed on Alex’s vehicle. A few seconds passed then the BMW crawled past her daughter. Milly’s face was red with exertion and Jodie could see by the set of the child’s shoulders that the going was real hard. She’d need to have a nice cold glass of cordial ready for her.
Was it too early for something stronger for herself?
Thinking of the accident, seeing Alex and thinking of her father …
It was that kind of a day.
Chapter 6
He slowly opened his eyes, flinching at the sudden glare of sunshine pouring through the high-set donga windows. He flung an arm across his head. It blocked the bright burst from punishing his gritty eyes and allowed him a minute or two to acclimatise. He felt like shit.
The whimpering noise that had woken him was still playing like a CD on rollback. Risking the light, he half sat and glanced around. There was a mound of chocolate-brown hair splayed across the pillow to his right. Beyond that his dog, Rupert, was sitting beside the mattress looking at the mound connected to the hair and whining like he didn’t know what it was.
Nate looked at the mound in horror and groaned. He knew what it was. The problem was he didn’t know who it was. Donna? Debbie? Diana? Please God, not Diana. That woman had a big mouth. She’d tell everyone from there to Broome about his dimensions and prowess in great detail. He swore, which made the mound move in a restless manner. He shut his trap real quick. He didn’t want her to wake up before he’d worked out who the hell he’d taken to bed in a drunken stupor. The girl’s name started with D, he was sure of that. Well, as sure as he could be after pouring a litre of rum into his gullet. He hadn’t done that in ages, but the boys had convinced him to head to town for an early end-of-season piss-up (any excuse) and, well, one thing had led to another and he’d ended up holding up the bar with a few of the other ringers. Like a dickhead he’d started to drive home, figuring if he could just get outside the town boundary he’d stop and sleep it off by a creek bed. He’d forgotten the other blokes coming up in the ute behind. They’d banged into the back of his LandCruiser when he stopped to find the track that led off the road onto the creek bank. Stupid buggers. Then again, he’d been a fuckwit too, driving in that state. He vaguely recalled a carload of girls had come along next. Well, maybe there were only two of them. He shook his head, trying to remember. Moaned at the knife that now jabbed into his skull. He slumped back down in the bed.
Think about it, McGregor! Who was the girl? Who’d been in that car? Dawn? Devina? Deanne? Please, please God, not Deanne. Surely not Deanne, the feisty barmaid. She was engaged to be married! No, no, Deanne had flaming red hair. This one was a brunette.
In the meantime, Rupert had decided enough was enough. He jumped onto the bed, causing the mound to move some more. Nate quickly hauled the old kelp
ie across the top of the pillow, the only part of that side of the bed that wasn’t claimed by the sprawling body.
Wiggling sideways, he pushed the dog into the valley of clear bed he’d made between him and the woman at his side. Rupert laid his head on outstretched paws and managed a withering look at his master for the unaccustomed restriction of bed space. Nate ignored the dog and quietly went on wrest ling with the woman’s identity until finally exhaustion and thus sleep threatened to claim him again. The name came to him on the edges of unconsciousness. Danielle. Oh Christ. Danielle!
Fuck.
Nathaniel threw the last of his gear into the back of the LandCruiser ute. He’d be sad to leave this property. Mount Elizabeth had been good to him. Well, so long as Van Over stayed away from the place. For three years running Nate had come back to work as a stockman, leaving at the end of the season in late November and returning again in March. He usually spent the lay time wandering around the New South Wales northern coast, picking up a bit of work here and there.
‘You gunna come back over this way, get a job on another place?’ said Wally.
Nate looked out across the landscape. He could see mulga, salt and witchetty bush, a few supplejacks and many other shrubby trees – the Northern Territory kind of scrub. Very different from the bush back home in the high country of Victoria. ‘Nup. I don’t think so this time.’
‘What?’ Wal sounded surprised. ‘Don’t let Van Over put you off. Plenty of other bosses around here that’d have you in their camp. Plus you always come back like a bad smell.’
‘And that’s what I think I’d be if I did return,’ said Nate, glancing towards the big house. The governess’s quarters sat slightly to one side of the low, sprawling white homestead.
‘Boss really not happy with you bedding the govie?’
‘No, siree, he was not. Danielle went up and told them about us after I said I wouldn’t have slept with her sober. I think she might have been offended. Ferris told me to haul my arse out of here before he jobbed me one. And, to be honest, I would’ve belted me too if I’d have been him. Turns out she’s only bloody seventeen.’
Mountain Ash Page 4
