by Mandy Magro
Kirsty pulled on her pyjama bottoms, straightened her singlet and crept slowly down the hallway to investigate. The racket was getting louder, a mixture of hoofs and heavy footsteps on the timber floorboards, with a few swear words thrown in. She knew then, from the huskiness of the voice, that Aden was home early. She smiled, her belly flip-flopping with the thought of seeing him, touching him, kissing him.
Just as she entered the lounge room Aden went hurtling past her, barely holding himself upright as he stumbled over the rug, his arms outstretched as he chased a tiny black and white lamb. He dodged the coffee table, giving her a quick sideways grin, his eyebrows raised to the ceiling in a ‘help me!’ gesture as he vanished down the hallway in pursuit of the runaway animal.
Kirsty’s jaw dropped. What in God’s name was a lamb doing in the cottage? And where had Aden found it? Flame Tree Hill didn’t have any sheep and neither did any of the neighbours. Since the unrelenting heat lasted for at least six months of the year, Tropical North Queensland was cattle country, through and through. Fluffy sheep would find it very difficult to survive the harsh weather conditions, and their wool would be the perfect hiding place for the paralysis ticks endemic to the area. And if the sheep somehow survived all that, their meat and wool would be very poor quality anyway. It wouldn’t be financially viable to breed them and it would be cruel to even try.
A splendid bubble of laughter rose from her belly, a sensation she had only enjoyed fleetingly over the past month and a half. She fell to the floor as tears of glee ran down her face. She knew she should go and help Aden but her legs were so weak from her mirth that she couldn’t bring herself to stand up. She slumped against the back of the couch, laughing. She hadn’t realised until this moment how glum she’d been, the only reprieve she’d had from her grumpiness at the world being the romantic day she had shared with Aden the week before.
Aden’s voice travelled from the bedroom, carrying a hint of amusement. ‘Shit! Come here, you little blighter! I’m not going to hurt you! I saved you, for Christ’s sake! Come on, that’s it, come on, come to me. Good girl.’
With a deep sigh, Kirsty gathered herself together enough to stand upright again. She really should go and help Aden. Then, out of the blue, everything went silent, the chaos of the past few minutes over.
Aden’s handsome face peeked around the corner of the lounge room door, his eyes twinkling naughtily. ‘I’ve put Hank outside in the kennel for now. I wanted you with me when we introduced him to his new playmate.’
Kirsty put her hands on her hips and tipped her head to the side. ‘And who or what might his new playmate be? What are you up to, Mr Maloney?’ She took a step forward. ‘May I see what you’re hiding there, behind the safety of the wall? It looked to me like a lamb, but I must have been hallucinating, surely?’
Aden stepped forward and casually leant on the doorframe, the tiny black and white lamb now cradled in his arms, its big shiny eyes darting about the lounge room. It let out a strident bleat and then another. Aden cuddled it tighter as he smiled at Kirsty.
She tapped her foot lightly, feigning impatience as she raised her eyebrows. He glanced down at the lamb with a shrug, giving it a light scratch behind the ears. ‘This is my new little buddy.’ He glanced back up at Kirsty, uncertainty crinkling his rugged features. ‘Well, yours, to be exact . . . If you want her?’
Kirsty crossed her arms, her brows creased. ‘But where is its mother? It looks barely a week old.’
‘A week and six days old, to be exact. Bit of a sad story there, though. Its mother died today, bitten by a snake. I went on an emergency call-out to a farm in Mutchilba but I couldn’t save the mother. I’d say it was a king brown that got her.’ He gently ruffled the lamb’s head. ‘But I saved this little one from being knocked on the head by the farmer. The miserly old bastard didn’t want to spend the time feeding it. Said he had enough to bloody do. I couldn’t let him kill her.’
The lamb bleated again and the noise melted her heart. Kirsty couldn’t resist the urge to touch it. She walked over and stroked it soothingly. ‘You’re so sweet saving her, Aden.’ She pushed up on her tiptoes and placed a lingering kiss on his lips, smiling as she pulled away. ‘Of course I’ll take care of her. I’d love to. But how’s she going to survive the heat up here, especially in summer? They’re not really ideal conditions for a sheep.’ She shook her head. ‘What was the bloody idiot thinking, having sheep out here in the first place?’
Aden chuckled, touched by her sincerity. ‘Oh, this isn’t your average lamb, K. She’s a Dorper poddy, bred for the tough drought conditions. There are not a lot of them around Hidden Valley but the ones that are here are usually kept as pets. That’s probably why you’ve never seen them before. You’re not likely to see a mob of them out in someone’s paddock.’ The lamb wriggled in Aden’s arms and he cautiously placed it back on the floor. He and Kirsty stood silently for a moment, watching as it clip-clopped across the floor on wobbly legs and then clumsily collapsed on the rug. It rested its head on its front legs, eyeing them drowsily.
Kirsty went over and sat beside it, hugging her knees into her chest as she watched it drift off to sleep. ‘Before I get too deep into this, how do I take care of her? I wouldn’t know where to start when it comes to shearing and stuff like that. I’m a cattle girl, not a sheep farmer. And what happens when I’m really ill for those few weeks after chemo? I can barely look after myself. I’m not going to be finished it until the first or second week of September, which is still sixteen weeks away. And then who knows what’s going to happen to me . . .’
Aden sat beside her, gently placing his arm around her shoulder. ‘Stop right there, K. Don’t worry, we’ll all pull our weight to help. I’m sure Kulsoom would love to give you a hand. The little thing will be a cinch to take care of, anyway. Dorpers don’t need shearing, crutching or docking and they don’t suffer from flystrike. They’re incredibly hardy, and they graze like goats, too, feeding on bush shrubs, grass and even weeds. A brilliant little lawnmower, I reckon. We just have to watch she doesn’t eat the entire garden.’
Kirsty raised an eyebrow. ‘Sounds too easy. I’ve never heard of this breed before.’
Aden leant in, cupping his hand around Kirsty’s ear and dropping his voice to a whisper. ‘I’ve been told they’re really good eating too.’
Kirsty gasped, pretending to cover the lamb’s ears while Aden chuckled. ‘Don’t talk like that in front of her. She’s not going to be on anyone’s dinner plate!’
Aden grinned. ‘I know. Just kidding. Look at you, the protective mother already!’
Kirsty’s stern expression gave way to a relieved smile as she wrapped her arms around him, resting her head on his shoulder. ‘I’m going to call her Joy. Because I know that’s what she’s going to give me, and loads of it too, with how sweet she is.’
‘That’s just perfect.’ Aden smiled as he closed his eyes and snuggled in to Kirsty.
As Aden held the woman he loved, he could feel happiness emanating from her. It was wonderful, and such a contrast to the past month or so. The day he had taken off to spend with her the week before had been amazing, exactly what they had needed, but the tranquillity between them hadn’t lasted long – Kirsty woke up two days later back in her despondent mood. If he could, he would make each day as romantic and magical for her as that one but the reality of everyday life made it impossible. With each week that passed she was becoming more and more withdrawn from him, and from life. He couldn’t deny the cancer was putting a strain on their relationship; it cut him deeply that she didn’t allow him to look after her more and sometimes he felt like he couldn’t do anything right, and her short-temperedness was always directed at him. The lamb had been a spontaneous decision, with the aim of taking her mind off the cancer. Maybe it would ease some of the tension that had been growing between them lately.
‘Is anyone home?’ Robbie called from the kitchen.
‘Yeah, we’re in the lounge room, Robbie!’ Kirsty cal
led back sleepily.
Robbie walked into the room, pulling his tattered hat off. ‘Why aren’t the lights on? And Aden, you lazy bugger, it was your turn to cook so where’s our dinner? I’m starving.’
Kirsty hurriedly looked at her watch and was shocked to see it was a little past seven. Shit! She and Aden had fallen asleep. She patted the rug beside her, panicked when she noticed the lamb was nowhere to be seen.
She shook Aden and he sat bolt upright, blinking his eyes frantically. ‘What, what is it?’
Kirsty pulled herself up from the floor, using Aden’s shoulder to do so. ‘It’s Joy – she’s not in here. Where the heck has she wandered off to?’
Aden leapt up beside her. ‘Bugger! Great parents we are.’
They both hurried out of the lounge room, calling Joy’s name, a bemused Robbie behind them.
‘Have you two gone stark-raving mad?’ Robbie asked.
‘No time to explain right now, bro,’ Kirsty called as she vanished into Aden’s bedroom, searching everywhere: behind the cupboards, behind the door, under the bed. ‘All you need to know is that there’s a lamb gone MIA on us.’ She reappeared, huffing as she waved her hands around. ‘Come on, Robbie, help us find her. Please!’
The search party split up, turning over everything in sight as they searched the house. Kirsty was just about to lose hope when Aden emerged from the laundry with Joy wriggling in his arms and Hank at his heels, tail wagging vigorously. ‘I’ve got her!’
Kirsty clutched her chest. ‘Oh, thank goodness! Where was she?’
Aden grinned as Hank sat down at his feet, whining as he looked up towards Joy. ‘She and Hank were snuggled up together underneath a pile of towels, happily sleeping until I rudely woke them.’ Joy glanced down at Hank and bleated at full volume. Aden chuckled. ‘It looks like they’re best mates already.’
Kirsty giggled. ‘Yeah, seems that way. But how in the heck did Hank get inside?’
‘You might want to have a look at the laundry door – it’s kind of missing the flyscreen. I think Hank must have pushed it in so he could get to Joy.’
Kirsty scowled at Hank before a warm smile returned to her lips. ‘Hank! You little terror!’ She gently took Joy from Aden’s arms. ‘And you’re a little terror too! You and Hank make a good couple.’
Robbie broke in, his eyes glued to Joy. ‘Does someone want to tell me what’s going on here?’
Kirsty smiled at him, delight twinkling in her eyes. ‘Sure, but how about we order some pizzas first? I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but I’m hungry. Even if I can only get one piece down, it’s nice to feel like eating for a change.’
‘That’s great news, sis! I haven’t heard you say that in ages!’ Robbie looked impressed as he directed his gaze towards Aden. Aden winked back at him.
Chapter 18
THE dawn sunlight crept over the scrubby mountain tops that surrounded Flame Tree Hill, creating a blanket of diffused golden light across the vast fields. The sky acted as a massive filter, sending a shifting series of cool blues, pearly pastels and warm hues across the countryside, creating perfect inspiration for Kirsty’s photography.
She’d finally got some of her old photos framed thanks to Aden’s handiwork and the images now hung in pride of place on the walls of the cottage. After weeks of looking at them, and feeling increasingly proud with every compliment from her family, Kirsty had decided it was time to dust off her camera and get back into what she loved. It was the perfect distraction from her treatment.
Perching her freshly made pannikin of tea on the verandah banister, she carefully placed her camera on the tripod and bent down to peer through the viewfinder, exhilaration filling her at the view. Slowly she applied pressure with her fingertip and the shutter clicked repeatedly, capturing a wedge-tailed eagle as it lifted off from a rocky outcrop, a lifeless snake in its deadly grasp. It met its partner in the sky and they circled each other with ease, hovering on the gentle morning breeze.
Kirsty swiftly lifted the camera from its stand and followed the magnificent birds’ path, wanting to capture more, to tell the whole story of the two eagles that were partners for life. Kirsty found it so touching that when one passed away, the other would never mate up again. It was the way of most birds. What a perfect love story. Not that she expected Aden to live out his days alone if she died. Humans needed to love, to be loved. She understood that fully. The birds eventually vanished from sight, but the magic of the moment reminded Kirsty just how much she loved photographing the landscape and nature.
She sighed contentedly as she lowered her camera. She hadn’t realised how much she’d missed taking photos. It made her feel so alive and in touch with the land she called home. And of course it helped to take her mind off the pain of her cancer, emotionally, mentally and physically. Although Joy was also doing a very good job of that. The little lamb needed to be bottle-fed three times a day and was constantly getting into mischief. Joy had helped herself to a number of Kirsty’s favourite plants in the cottage garden and only yesterday, Kirsty had discovered her eating a pair of Aden’s socks.
A short playful bark followed by a string of animated bleats broke Kirsty’s concentration and she turned her attention to the garden, where Joy and Hank were frolicking together. Aden and Robbie sat on the lawn beside them, eating their bowls of cereal, delighted grins lighting up their faces. Kirsty stole a few shots, catching the two men unawares.
Aden looked over and, noticing the camera, posed and smiled sexily. Robbie pulled a stupid face, making Aden laugh hysterically. Kirsty couldn’t help but laugh too, and it felt damn good.
After a few hours’ work that morning Aden had the rest of the weekend off, a rarity for him. Once he got back home they were going to the shops to buy her a wig, and afterwards they were off to have lunch with Harry and Mary Mallard so she could finally have that cuppa she’d promised to have with Mary almost six weeks ago at the hospital. She felt bad for not catching up with Mary earlier but between her chemo and feeling ill she just hadn’t had the strength to socialise. They’d spoken a few times on the phone, which was nice, but it was never the same as catching up in person and Kirsty was really looking forward to it.
Thinking about wearing a wig saddened Kirsty and she hoped she could find one that she didn’t look ridiculous in. Needing one in the first place also made her feel a little irritated because it made her feel like her cancer was winning, even though it was only a side effect of the chemo. It had been very traumatic watching her long blonde mane fall out day by day, but she had to accept what was happening to her. She was tired of wearing scarfs whenever she went out, which wasn’t often. The only time she normally left Flame Tree Hill was when she went down to Cairns for her chemo and she managed to do whatever errands needed doing down there. She was still trying to hide the fact she had cancer, not because she was ashamed of it but because she refused to accept anyone’s pity. She just hoped she wouldn’t run into anyone she knew this morning. She wasn’t in the mood to explain her lack of hair.
At least she was feeling well enough to be out of bed – but not for long. Monday would be her fourth chemo session and the extreme sickness would start all over again. It was a cruel cycle, and the constant battle was beginning to wear her down. Every time she looked at her reflection in the mirror, at her bare scalp and her pale skin, her faith in her own survival slipped away from her a little bit more, no matter how hard she tried to remain positive. The only reprieve she seemed to get from it all was the few days after her acupuncture. And she could only get over to Ravenshoe every two weeks for that.
Kirsty was beginning to wonder what Aden had ever seen in her. She looked dreadful and smelt dreadful, thanks to the chemo. Her self-doubt and anxiety lay just below the surface. At times she even found herself almost resenting Aden. She loved him, but on the other hand she envied his healthy life. And a deep, hidden part of her wondered how long it would take him to move on to another woman if she did die. Would it be a week, a month,
a year?
Some days she felt as though she were hanging off a towering cliff with lethal waves crashing treacherously beneath her, her fingers slipping from the edge little by little as she fought to hold on. Wouldn’t it just be easier for everyone, including herself, if she let go? She wished she had the courage that her Aunty Kulsoom seemed to have. Not that she was going to admit any of her darker feelings out loud. Those were her own demons to deal with. Opening up to her loved ones would only upset them and she felt like she had already upset their lives enough. She didn’t want to be any more of a hindrance to anyone. As long as she seemed happy and strong on the outside, that was all that mattered. Wasn’t it?
As Aden steered the Toyota along the long dirt driveway, Kirsty glanced down at the illuminated screen of her camera and flicked through the hundreds of shots she had taken that morning, smiling. Joy was such a cutie! Hank seemed to adore her company. It was lovely to observe them together, and even better to photograph them. The one of Robbie and Aden laughing that morning was a beauty, too. It had so many elements in it, from the flecks of dust shimmering in the sunlight and the guys’ joyful emotions, to Joy and Hank prancing about beside them and the magnificent bushland backdrop. Kirsty felt she could fall right into the photograph and relive the happy moment with them all over again.
