by Sasha Wasley
‘Yeah. I’ve met some amazing people.’
Willow shook her head. ‘I’m so proud of you.’
‘I haven’t won it yet.’ Beth laughed. ‘And it’s just a bit of paper, in the end.’
Willow knew better. Beth worked hard in her clinic, keeping patient wait-times down and fees low. She cared about doing the best for the people of their town, which was what made her practice so popular. And Willow hadn’t even known about this Indigenous program. Hopefully Beth’s practice would be recognised for what it had achieved.
‘When will they announce the winner?’
‘There’s an awards night in late June. Will you come as my plus-one?’
‘Shouldn’t you take one of your staff?’
‘I’ve already organised a table for the whole lot of us but I had to buy my ticket when I entered the awards and it includes a plus one. I thought you might like to come.’
‘Okay then. I’ll come.’
‘It’s formal,’ Beth warned. ‘Gala.’
‘Ugh, really?’ Willow lost enthusiasm. ‘Free would look better in a frock than me. I don’t even have anything.’
Beth rolled her eyes. ‘I’ll lend you a dress. You can network with the businesses in town – represent Patersons. The Quintilla mob’s going, you know?’
‘Really?’
‘Yep. Quintilla’s up for the Innovation award.’
She blinked. ‘For what?’
‘The organic certification, maybe? They’re the only organic beef operation in the region – for now, anyway.’
Willow considered. ‘Okay, if you want me there, I’ll come.’
‘I’ll send you the details.’
To Willow’s annoyance, her father saw Hegney loitering outside and invited him to share dinner with them. She couldn’t relax with the guy around, although no one else seemed to have a problem with him. He is good at ingratiating himself with our family, she realised. He was polite and held back on the lewd jokes like the one he’d made to her about Tom and Samantha Burrows. He didn’t take any swipes at her farming methods while they ate dinner either, although he did say something that made her wonder. It was while Barry was telling them about an old-fashioned cure for high blood pressure.
‘It went out of fashion for years, but now they’re all over it like a rash again,’ he said. ‘I saw it in that heart health magazine Beth got me.’
‘It’s usually the case,’ Hegney remarked. ‘What’s tried and true tends to work best. People are so focused on reinventing the wheel, but sometimes you’ve just got to look around and appreciate what’s right in front of you. A bit of respect for tradition doesn’t go astray.’
He didn’t look at Willow while he spoke. Am I being paranoid? she wondered.
Finally, Hegney left for his quarters and Beth got into the Beast for the drive back to town. Free remained in front of the television, the volume up high, watching one of her reality shows. Barry went to bed and could be heard snoring within minutes. Willow paused to switch off her computer on the way to her room. There was a chat icon blinking in the bottom corner of her email. She clicked.
Tom: Hey, Banjo. You around?
It was from an hour earlier but he still appeared to be online, so she replied.
Yeah. What’s up?
You should see the sky tonight. Amazing. Meteor shower. Remember we watched a meteor shower at the eastern gate once?
Yes! Is it still going? I’ll check it out.
I might head over to the eastern gate to watch. I’ll take Tonka. Just sayin’. . .
Willow laughed.
Is this a challenge?
That’s a strong word. But if you’re not there on Rusty in fifteen minutes, I’ll know you’re chickenshit.
She didn’t hesitate. Still laughing, she ran from the house, yanked on her boots and headed for the shed. She wheeled Rusty out and started it up. Headlight working? Yes. And she was away.
Willow had ridden this journey so often in her teen years that at first she hadn’t any doubt in her mind she could find the eastern gate, even in the dark. But it had been a long time since those days and, after a few minutes’ riding, she lost confidence.
She slowed down, peering into the gloom ahead. How far had she come? Their houses were both around five kilometres from the eastern gate but where was the old trail? She wasn’t sure she was on it any more. If she was, it had become overgrown and bumpy. There was no sign of a fence in the distance, let alone a gate. She must have been riding for something like ten minutes already, so she should have almost been there.
Just when she was starting to think it would be best to turn back, a light came into view directly ahead of her. Tom. She accelerated towards the eastern gate, which she’d finally spotted, gleaming in Rusty’s headlights.
Willow beat him by seconds.
She jumped off Rusty and clambered up the gate to stand higher than him, cheering and pumping her fist. He watched her in amusement, shaking his head. ‘Well, it was worth letting you win just to see your excitement.’
‘Shut up. You didn’t let me win. I saw your race face.’
‘Race face! Whatever.’ He flicked off his headlight. ‘Check it out.’
Two stars shot across the sky as soon as she looked up and Willow gasped. The meteors came thick and fast – searing white lights across the blazing background of stars. She climbed back down and they watched in silence for a few minutes.
‘The sky is so much better out here.’ She glanced across the fence at the silhouette that was Tom, his face turned upwards. ‘You forget when you’re in the city how amazing the Mount Clair night sky is.’
‘And you forget not to take it for granted when you’re in Mount Clair.’
She made a noise of agreement. ‘The only person who never forgot was Mum. She went outside every night and looked at the stars – you know – if there were no clouds.’
‘Robin had a real appreciation for anything beautiful like that. She wasn’t your average Joe.’
‘Yeah, I think people would have worked that out when she named every animal and human on the farm after something from one of her fantasy books. I was lucky Tuffie came with a name because she already had a shortlist ready for when I got my first horse.’
‘What’s Beth’s name from? I know yours was from her favourite movie, and Free’s named after a Norse goddess. But what about Beth?’
‘It was an amalgamation of her two favourite authors. Beth or Betty someone-or-other – I can’t remember her name – and Anne McCaffrey. Beth-Anne, Bethany.’
‘Aha.’ He gave a quiet laugh. ‘Only your mum.’
‘One of a kind.’
‘It’s good to hear you talk about her,’ he said, and he sounded a little hesitant now. ‘It must have been tough on you, losing her at that age. When you were fourteen, I mean. And poor Beth trying to finish year twelve. And Free only, what, eleven?’
‘It was tough. It was terrible. I was a mess for years.’
‘You hid it well.’
‘The mess came out in weird ways,’ she said.
‘Yeah?’
This was getting awkwardly close to discussing the unread letters so she created a diversion. She slung her leg back over the quad bike’s saddle before lying back on the seat so she could watch the meteor shower more comfortably. Tom sat on Tonka but she could feel him looking at her.
‘What sort of weird ways?’
Willow had to steer the conversation forward, away from the unread letters.
‘Well, a few years ago, when it was ten years since Mum’s death, I kind of lost it,’ she confessed. ‘I had a couple of episodes where I thought I was having an asthma attack or something. I went to the doctor to get my lungs checked, thinking I was allergic to something at work or whatever, and it turned out I was having – well – anxiety attacks.’ She glanced towards him, grateful for the darkness. ‘I know. Ridiculous, huh? Years later, I finally have a reaction.’
‘Not ridiculous. Post-traumatic stress. You lose your m
um at fourteen years old, you don’t know how to cope with it. By twenty-four you probably had your head together enough to start dealing with it.’
‘Yeah, that’s what the psychologist said. She said it was an unresolved issue for me. I didn’t grieve properly at the time because I didn’t have the maturity, or I was too busy trying to help Dad keep it together, or trying to be there for Free, or for whatever reason. She said I got sort of stuck and didn’t move on from Mum dying. I just pushed it right to the bottom of the basket. Then, when I finally got to a point in my life when I had more self-confidence and more ability to cope, the issue said, Okay, you’re ready to deal with me now.’
‘So, did you?’
‘I think so. I’m not sure anyone ever really gets over losing someone they love but I can think about her without it hurting nowadays. And without having to breathe into a paper bag.’ They both laughed and, when she checked, she was glad to find Tom watching the sky again. ‘I had a few sessions with the psychologist,’ Willow continued. ‘It was hard but worth it. It brought me closer to Beth, too.’
‘Why’s that?’
‘Jessica, the psych, gave me homework. She wanted me to reach out to a couple of people I’d shut out because of being messed up over Mum.’ Too late, she realised what she had admitted. She ploughed on, hoping he would let it slide. ‘So I emailed Beth and told her I was sorry I hadn’t been very communicative over the years. I felt so stupid sending that email, but Beth phoned me straight away and we had a long talk and a bit of a cry, and then after that she started calling me every week and staying with me when she came to Perth. It’s much better between us now.’
‘That’s good.’ A pause. ‘And who was the other person you reached out to?’
She cringed in the darkness. Two more stars shot across the sky.
‘I didn’t do all my homework,’ she said weakly.
He was quiet for a few moments. ‘Pity.’
She had to agree.
They watched the sky without speaking until a particularly spectacular shower sprayed like fireworks across the Milky Way.
‘Whoa,’ she breathed. ‘There must have been half a dozen meteors in that one.’
‘At least.’
What started as a slightly awkward silence evolved gently into a comfortable one. She could almost forget Tom was there on the other side of the gate, or at least that he was anything other than her lifelong friend. She could almost pretend there had never been a rift between them. They sat and watched the sky. So isolated they were, and the world so quiet, that it seemed the universe had put on an astronomical show for their pleasure alone. Willow found herself drifting off into short dozes. She knew she should shake herself awake and head home to bed but the night was so warm, so beautiful, so relaxing.
‘Hey, Banjo,’ came a soft voice close by.
She opened her eyes to find Tom beside her, lips curved in a smile.
‘Oh, sorry,’ she said, struggling to sit up.
‘No problem. As entertaining as it is watching you sleep, I thought you might be more comfortable in bed.’
Why did that make her blush? She attempted a laugh and rubbed her eyes. ‘Thanks. You might be right.’
‘Take it easy on the ride home, okay?’
He climbed back over the gate and sat on Tonka, returning his gaze to the sky.
‘Aren’t you going home, too?’
‘Soon. I might stay and watch for a bit longer.’
‘But I don’t want to leave you here all on your own.’
He looked at her quickly and didn’t speak. Willow had been going to say she would stay a little longer but the words died on her lips. She had already left him all on his own, she realised. Ten years ago, she’d left him on his own in the worst possible way, ditching all their dreams and plans. Tears came to Willow’s eyes. Why didn’t I reach out to him five years ago when Jessica said I should? She couldn’t read his expression in the darkness.
‘I’ll be all right,’ he said lightly. ‘Catch you soon.’
She hit the starter button and rode towards the homestead, letting the warm wind dry the tears on her cheeks.
Jean came home from her stay at Quintilla armed with new ideas for the weekly menus. ‘Have you heard of paella?’ she asked Willow. ‘I’m making it this week. And Sam showed me a really nice sour cream spelt pastry. I think I can cook some interesting dishes with these new groceries, boss.’
Jean normally only called Hegney or Barry ‘boss’, and Willow blinked at the unexpected honour. ‘Sounds like Sam has some good ideas,’ she said, thrilled.
‘Yeah, her and Tom Forrest. He comes into the kitchen a lot.’ She winked at Willow, who tried not to frown. ‘But he doesn’t let a bloody crumb go to waste, I can tell ya. Every scrap gets put to use, even if it’s just for the chooks or the worm farm. He’s got a little greenhouse off the kitchen, did you know? Fresh herbs.’ Jean’s eyes were bright with enthusiasm.
‘We can do that here,’ Willow offered. ‘I’ll get the station hands onto it.’
Willow knew there was still a way to go but this was a major step forward. She left Jean talking to Eddie about chilli bean wedges for that night’s dinner, and sent Tom a text message.
You guys did a great job with Jean. She’s really motivated. Thank you!
He replied immediately.
That’s great! She was a fast learner and gave us some new recipes, too.
Willow was startled.
Really?
Yep. She makes a mean pork and veg sausage roll.
Jean had showed them her recipe? That was flattering.
With Jean on board, the kitchen bills soon reduced, although they were still higher than Quintilla’s. Oh, well. It was a work in progress. Willow got most of her business plan past Hegney’s scepticism, but there were still some changes he strongly resisted. She put them on hold for a few months. She had plenty to get on with.
Tom lent Willow and Hegney the helicopter so they could go out with pegs to mark out the new pastures. Willow had contracted a fencing team to construct some fenced-off sections so she could experiment with different weeds and grasses. She and Hegney would soon travel to the stockyards to sell some of their current stock and buy a medium-sized herd of Brahmans.
‘I prefer our cows,’ Free commented, looking at the photos in Willow’s catalogue. ‘Brahmans are weird-looking, with those humpy necks.’
‘They’re much better suited to Mount Clair conditions,’ Willow told her. ‘They’ll cost less in water and withstand the heat better in the wet season.’
Free stared at the photos more closely. ‘Kinda ugly,’ was her pronouncement. ‘Why have you got the goats section bookmarked, Will?’
Willow took the catalogue away from her sister. ‘Just thinking about diversification.’
Free brightened. ‘Oh, I like goats!’
She probably shouldn’t have said anything about goats to Free, who might spill it before Willow had a chance to properly investigate the idea. That would just give Hegney more ammunition against her.
Her heart sank a little whenever she thought about Hegney. He still seemed so scathing of her ideas. Yes, she’d started implementing changes, but Hegney barely showed any interest. She couldn’t rely on him to help with her planning. The few times she’d asked him to give an opinion, he’d always opted for the ‘tried and true’ way.
Honestly, she couldn’t have done it without Tom. If he wasn’t at Patersons a couple of times a week then she was at Quintilla. Plus they chatted online, called or emailed every day. If she was faced with a tricky choice and wasn’t sure which way to go, she called Tom. He never made the decision for her but talked her through his experiences and things he’d gleaned, or asked her the right questions to help her make up her mind. To Willow’s surprise, Tom did the same with her. She got a call when he needed to know something about pasture growth or biochemistry. Willow was glad. She wouldn’t have wanted to feel like she was always leaning on him without giving anything
in return.
Cathy Forrest was still much stiffer than she had been ten years earlier. Willow could remember a time after her mother’s death when Cathy had told her, tears in her eyes, that if she, Beth or Free ever needed anything a mother would normally provide, they should come to her. All of that was before Willow had hurt Cathy’s son. At least Bob was as cheery and affectionate as ever, and Tom had a way of smoothing over his mother’s coolness. If it hadn’t been for Cathy’s manner, and her own father’s retirement, she almost could have sworn the ten years of separation had never happened, and that she and Tom were still seventeen and best friends, embarking on their wonderful pastoral project together.
The one thing that was never discussed, however, was the bundle of letters Willow had read too late. It was too scary – for both of them. Well, that was what she assumed. That was how it felt for her.
Maybe it was enough for Tom that she’d finally read them and apologised? Willow had a nagging feeling of doubt. He’d said things in those letters that had never been addressed. But how did you address something like that, something as awful as an unrequited crush?
Visiting Quintilla one morning, Willow finally caught up with her young stockman Si, his sling now removed. He was loading up a station ute with cattle feed.
‘Si!’ she called, and when he saw who it was he gave her a grin. ‘Are you back here for good? We’ve still got some forms to fill out about your collarbone, you know? Have we lost you to Quintilla?’
He looked bashful. ‘Yeah, I guess, Miss Paterson. Uh – I think I got replaced, anyway.’
‘Just while you were injured,’ Willow said. ‘We’ve still got that guy on the muster crew but only because you didn’t come back.’
He looked even more awkward and didn’t say anything.
‘Si, if you want to come back to Patersons and go on muster duties again, we’d be happy to have you.’ She paused but he still didn’t seem inclined to speak. ‘Have a think about it over the next week, okay? You can give Tom – Mr Forrest – a message and he’ll let me know what you decide, if you prefer.’
The boy nodded and she left him to his work. Painfully shy, she thought.
