Her excitement was at a rolling boil when she arrived and saw Luke coming down the front steps, crossing the lawn to greet her with his easy, long-legged stride.
‘Hi there,’ she called with a smile and a wave.
‘Morning.’
Almost immediately, she sensed that something was different. Instead of Luke’s usual cheeky smile, his expression was cool – polite, but with a new, unmistakable sense of distance.
‘You didn’t bring Jess,’ he said, frowning at her car’s empty back seat.
‘I thought she might get too excited when she saw the cattle. I was worried I wouldn’t know how to handle her.’
His response was an unconcerned shrug, but Sally felt as if she’d made a mistake already.
It wasn’t a promising start.
She’d gone to a lot of trouble to prepare for this visit, not only double-checking the history of Moonlight Plains, but taking care with her wardrobe as well. She’d dressed for the stockyards in jeans and a long-sleeved cotton shirt. Primarily, she’d hoped to look less citified, and if Luke asked her to help, she wanted to be ready. She’d even borrowed riding boots and an akubra from a girlfriend.
Admittedly, she knew zilch about branding and ear-tagging cattle, and now, one glance at Luke showed her that her clothes weren’t right after all. They were far too neat and new-looking, like something out of an RM Williams catalogue, compared with Luke’s authentically battered and faded jeans and his ripped and paint-spattered shirt.
As for his boots, they had the kind of creased and scuffed and covered-in-dust look that only a decade of living in the bush could achieve.
The result was inexplicably eye-catching.
Pity about his mood.
‘Ready?’ he asked when Sally was barely out of her car, and without another word he turned and headed for his ute.
‘Don’t you want to see your stained glass?’ Sally called after him.
‘Sorry, we need to get going,’ he replied over his shoulder. ‘I’ll take a look at it later.’
It was a quarter to eight. Sally had left home at six-thirty and she was sure Luke had told her that any time between seven and eight would be fine. ‘Am I late?’ she called after him.
‘No, but I want to get started. Everything’s set up.’
Puzzled, but having no choice, she grabbed her camera and notebook and hurried after him. By the time she scrambled into the ute, he’d already started the motor and, as she pulled the door shut, he shoved the gear into first and took off.
All right. I get the message.
She took a deep breath and told herself to calm down as Luke steered the ute over a rutted track through paddocks of pale-brown grass that shimmered prettily in the early sunlight. Ahead, through the windscreen, the sky was already a bright summer-blue and it stretched overhead as clean and fresh as a newly washed tablecloth hung out to dry.
‘It’s a gorgeous morning.’
Luke nodded but made no further comment.
Sally considered attempting further conversation, but it was pretty clear that this new, gruff Luke wouldn’t bother with a response, so she opted to remain silent.
At least it wasn’t far to the stockyards, which consisted, as far as Sally could see, of a pen of steers and a complicated network of timber and metal fences.
When Luke pulled to a halt, she decided this wasn’t the prudent moment to confess that she was a tiny bit scared of snorting, wild-eyed cows, and that she didn’t like the way they looked at her, not to mention what they might do with their horns and hooves.
She decided instead to road-test her new courage.
‘So what can I do to help?’ she asked, casting a scant eye at the pen of cattle and the mass of sleek hides and hooves.
Luke was watching her coolly from beneath the shabby brim of his akubra and he took his time to answer. ‘I think you’d better stick to taking pictures.’
Sally supposed she should feel relieved, but the new aloofness in his manner made her feel foolish. Inadequate, a useless city chick.
‘You should stay well out of the way,’ Luke added. ‘Don’t want you getting hurt.’
She couldn’t deny this was probably sensible, but she was subdued as she slung her camera strap around her neck and perched on a timber railing to watch while Luke set to work. It was hard work, she quickly realised. Damn hard.
To begin with, Luke had to cajole a steer out of the pen and into a race that led to the steel crush. Then he had to get swiftly to the crush and work levers so the beast was held still, before he performed at least four tasks in smooth and incredibly dexterous sequence.
In no time, Sally was quite mesmerised by the way he moved so fluidly back and forth.
Now she understood what he’d meant when he said he had everything set up. There was a pistol-like dispenser that he used to squirt anti-tick spray down a steer’s back, and when this was done, he grabbed a plastic bag of vaccine with a syringe attached and gave the beast a quick jab. After hanging the vaccination gear back on a peg, he moved quickly to the front of the crush to attach a plastic tag to the steer’s ear with something that looked like a stapler. Finally, he wielded the red-hot branding iron, applying it swiftly and precisely to the steer’s shoulder before flipping a lever and releasing the somewhat stunned animal into freedom.
Then it was time to start all over again.
Sally had expected to feel masses of sympathy for the poor cattle, but she had to admit they didn’t appear traumatised. In fact they seemed to recover quite quickly and were soon calmly munching the hay that Luke had strewn around the perimeter of the new holding yard.
But while the cattle gained a share of her attention and sympathy . . . if she was honest, she was mostly ogling Luke.
Actually, she was so busy watching him that she almost forgot to take photos. She was a bit ashamed about that, but surely any girl would find it hard to ignore his almost effortless grace and athleticism.
No wonder he was fit.
Now Sally understood how he was able to lift heavy timber beams as if they weighed no more than matchsticks.
Of course, it wasn’t long before she felt bad about sitting on the fence, an idle spectator, while Luke worked his guts out.
‘Hey,’ she called to him as he hurried past to usher yet another steer down the race. ‘I think it’s time I helped.’
Luke turned, frowning, tilting his akubra to block the sun’s glare and appraising her with a narrowed gaze.
Clearly he was considering her usefulness and Sally lifted her chin and tried to look confident. And competent.
‘Look, it’s okay, thanks,’ he said. ‘You stay there where you’re safe.’
‘No, Luke. No way!’ Annoyed, Sally jumped down from the railing, hastily looping her camera strap around a fence post. ‘I’ve been watching you, and I can see what happens. I’m sure I can at least work that gate and shoo the cattle while you get on with the business end.’
He stood a little longer, work-toughened hands poised lightly on his hips, his eyes still wary, his jaw set.
Sally was sure he was about to shake his head, but when he looked at her again, his expression was slightly less fierce.
‘Okay. Let me show you what to do,’ he said quietly.
Sally’s heartbeat took off at a gallop, but she flashed him a smile. After all, the steers were only half-grown, weren’t they? They couldn’t do too much harm.
Perhaps it was her smile that did the trick. The chill that she’d sensed in Luke ever since she’d arrived seemed to thaw a tad and his green eyes sparked with the ghost of an answering smile.
‘Come on,’ he said, giving a nod towards the pen.
Feeling braver than a gladiator entering the Colosseum, Sally followed him, carefully avoiding cowpats.
‘You need to approach the animal from the side,’ he explained. ‘So it separates from the mob.’
He handed her a long piece of plastic pipe that had been propped in a corner. ‘You can use this.
Give the steer a tap on the back if you need to. The important thing is to make sure you’re always behind the cattle. Always.’
‘Got it.’
‘That’s important, Sal. Never get in front of them.’
‘I’ll remember.’
He looked worried again.
Sally waved her hand. ‘Go on. I’ll be okay. At least they’re not very big and they don’t have horns.’
‘I’ll stay here with you while you send the first one down.’
Leaning against a fence with his elbows propped on the top rail, he left Sally alone facing the mob.
Her heart was thumping as she took a minuscule step towards the nearest steer, which, although half-grown, seemed huge and menacing now.
‘Off you go,’ she told him.
The steer stared back at her blankly.
‘Come on,’ she urged. ‘It’s your turn. Luke won’t hurt you too much.’
Still the animal didn’t budge, and she shot a despairing glance over to Luke, watching her at the fence, his eyes squinting against the glare.
‘Get in a bit closer,’ he called.
Right.
Sally took another step and made a shooing gesture, and the steer lurched away, obviously frightened, dashing towards the opening to the race.
Thank God.
‘Way to go!’ Luke cheered, but immediately he was racing after the steer to attend to the branding.
Sally felt ridiculously pleased with herself.
She was still basking in the giddy joy of her success when Luke called, ‘Next!’
Yikes. She was supposed to have had another steer ready and waiting.
Nine steers later, she was well into the swing of things. She’d worked out how to approach an animal so it moved forward straight away, and it was pretty easy once she got over her fear. She found it rather satisfying to come to grips with something so completely outside her experience.
It was quite an adventure, really.
‘Thanks for your help.’ Luke was smiling when they were finished. In fact, he’d sent her a few tummy-tumbling smiles during their teamwork.
‘You did well,’ he said.
‘You think so?’ His praise shouldn’t have mattered but it did.
‘Sure. You were a great help. I reckon you’re a natural.’
This time his smile was full-on, making the skin around his eyes crinkle. His teeth flashed white in his tanned and dusty face. Sally was relieved that they seemed to be friends again.
As he got busy packing up his gear and stowing it in the back of the ute, she checked the photos she’d taken, mostly close-ups of Luke caught in action, muscles straining, his face, shaded by his akubra, deep in concentration. She remembered how he’d looked on the night she met him at the Charters Towers ball, all handsome and spruce and dashing in a suit.
Today’s scenario couldn’t have been more different – out here beneath the blazing North Queensland sun with the scent of eau de cattle in the air – and yet Sally felt the same unmistakable sizzle.
It set her blood singing and robbed her of breath.
‘I could do with a swim,’ Luke said when the ute was loaded.
Sally laughed. She was covered in dust and her sweat had combined with the dust to make grime. ‘I’d give anything for a swim.’
‘Let’s go then. Just a quick dip in the river to cool off before we go back to the house.’
‘But I didn’t bring my bathers.’
‘Swim in your undies.’
Lightning flashed through her.
‘You’re in the bush,’ Luke said. ‘Out here we hardly ever swim in togs.’
She tried to recall which undies she was wearing. A sports bra and floral knickers, if she remembered rightly. Not too shabby.
‘Look, if you’re concerned . . .’ Luke’s gaze was now fixed on the distant horizon. ‘You don’t have to worry, Sally. I meant it when I apologised for what I said last time. Nothing like that will happen again.’
‘Of course. I know.’ How hopeless she was to feel disappointed.
‘We’ve got an agreement, okay?’ He turned back to her, his gaze steady. ‘The only agenda for us now is your magazine story.’
‘Yes.’ Sally couldn’t believe the ridiculous regret that eddied through her. She knew she should be grateful that Luke had sensibly and thoughtfully set the record straight.
She tried to dig up a smile, but couldn’t find one. ‘Do you swim in the river?’
‘Yes. It’s not far.’
‘Is it safe?’
‘Of course. You can swim, can’t you?’
‘Sure.’ She loved swimming, actually.
‘Then come on. Let’s go.’
The section of river that Luke drove to was particularly beautiful. The edge of the water was shaded by magnificent river gums and creamy-trunked paperbarks, while direct sunlight dazzled the middle of the river. On the far side a sandy beach stretched, with another line of trees standing guard on the opposite bank.
The water came sweeping across from this other side, sparkling and clear, running shallow over gravel and sand until it pitched down into a deeper pool that was dammed about one hundred metres downstream by a rocky bar. It formed a perfect, naturally designed swimming hole that just called for anyone to jump in.
As the ute stopped in a clearing, a group of wallabies loped away like moving shadows and, out on the river, a flock of black ducks took off with a thump, thump, thump of their wings.
Luke jumped out and pulled off his shirt, revealing a broad golden chest and back, rippling and male.
Sally didn’t hang around to watch him strip down to his boxers. She ducked behind a clump of bushes to strip and by the time she emerged, wearing just her bra and knickers, Luke was already in the water.
He turned over, floating on his back, and waved as she made her way, self-consciously, down the grassy bank.
‘What about crocodiles?’ she called to him.
‘Not this far inland. There could be freshwater crocs, but they only eat fish, and they’re rare as hen’s teeth up this way.’
Sally’s father had told her the same thing when she’d canoed with him last year, but she wasn’t completely reassured. Actually, she no longer felt as hot and grimy as she had before and she almost changed her mind. Then again, she’d always hated watching people who dithered on the water’s edge, so she slipped in quickly, not allowing herself a second thought.
The water was deliciously cool and inviting and she decided to stop worrying and enjoy herself. When she touched the bottom, she felt soft gravelly sand. ‘This is glorious, Luke.’
But she was rendered breathless by the sudden dark intensity of his gaze. A quick downwards glance showed her that her wet bra was damn near transparent, but before she could duck safely below the surface, Luke abruptly pushed off and started to churn down the waterhole, swimming furious laps.
The only agenda for us now is your magazine story.
Right. Okay. After accepting that worthy speech, she could hardly tell Luke that she wouldn’t mind a little playful flirtation.
She swam out to the middle and floated on her back, looking up at the pristine sky and the graceful weeping branches of the paperbark trees reaching almost to the water.
From this angle she could see debris caught high in the forks of some of the trees – sticks and broken branches and even a gnarled old fence post with a piece of barbed wire still attached. They’d obviously been washed there during the floods in previous years. Now they were a reminder that the river wasn’t always as peaceful and benign as it was today.
The debris could almost be a metaphor for her life, she decided. The floods had caused havoc and grief in the same way as Josh’s death had brought her pain and heartbreak, and yet the river had reverted to a life-giving stream, and lately she’d felt as if she was coming back to life, too. She’d been left with scars, but these days she found herself thinking more and more about a happier future.
It felt good to thi
nk positively at last.
She joined Luke in swimming laps, not trying to race, but just taking easy, smooth strokes through the cool green water. Eventually, they swam over to a shelf of water-sculpted limestone.
The rock was smooth and warm from the sun, and just the right height for resting their arms and warming their backs while they dangled their legs in the cool water.
It was incredibly relaxing, although it would have been even more relaxing if Sally hadn’t been so super-aware of Luke’s smooth golden skin stretched over sigh-worthy muscles.
‘Eek!’ she cried. ‘Something’s nibbling at my toes.’
‘Rainbow fish.’ Luke was grinning. ‘The bush version of a pedicure.’
‘That’s getting a little too close to nature for my liking.’
‘Time to get out?’
‘Sure.’
Leaving the river brought its own dangers, however. As they climbed onto the rock shelf to dry off in the sun, Sally knew Luke was surreptitiously checking her out, and a quick downwards glance showed her that her wet bra was still quite revealing. In return, she had heaps of trouble keeping her eyes off him.
Their unmistakable tension pointed to a flaw or two in the new, agenda-free status that Luke had proposed, and it was both a disappointment and a relief to finally get dressed again and drive back to the homestead.
‘So would you like to see the glass panels now?’ Sally asked when Luke had stowed his gear.
‘Absolutely. How did they turn out?’
Flipping her car boot open, she peeled back the sheeting from the top panel. ‘What do you reckon?’
‘It looks great.’
Luke carefully lifted the bright rectangle of glass and held it up to the light. The design was a simple pattern of circles and diamonds but the colours were dazzling and jewel-like in the sun – pink, green, aqua, gold and a brilliant, rich cobalt-blue.
‘They’ve done a good job with the lead work,’ he said.
‘Yes, I can’t wait to see these set back in the door.’
‘I should be able to get onto that this week.’ Luke smiled at her. ‘Thanks for carting these back and forth, Sal. I really appreciate it. You’ve saved me stacks of time.’
‘No worries. My pleasure.’
Moonlight Plains Page 16
