by Camryn Eyde
“Crawl,” Justine said, leaving no room for argument. The woman sounded livid, but she remained by Aimee’s side as she clambered up the slope on her knees, and maintained a consistent touch at her shoulder.
Progress was slow, and Justine’s touch turned to fingers clutching at her shirt almost trying to pull her forward.
“Leave me,” Aimee panted, guessing the fire was eating its way across the gullies they had just traversed.
“No.”
“Why?”
“You aren’t safe.”
“I was until you got lost. I was…just over…there.” Aimee pointed to the airstrip as they neared the crest. It was a scar on the landscape that the fire had to circumnavigate to continue its path. “It worked,” Aimee said, smiling at the lack of fire between the strip and the homestead. She wished the same could be said for the fire behind them. Gasping as she saw it burn away the washout that had caused Skycatcher to stumble, Aimee felt dread send everything numb. “Justine, you need to go!” She pushed at the woman’s legs.
Justine responded by pulling Aimee to her feet. “Run, Aimee.”
“No!” Aimee pulled off the woman and fell. “You have to go. Please. Please.” Tears began their hot trail down her cheek. “I can’t have you waste your life trying to save mine. Just go.”
Justine stepped forward and slapped Aimee across the cheek. “I love you, you idiotic woman. I will never leave you behind. Now get on your fucking feet and move!”
Howling with pain, and damning the woman at her side, Aimee took as much weight as she could on her leg when Justine once again pulled her to her feet. “Fuck you,” Aimee growled as pain, adrenaline and absolute fear fed her body.
“Sure, but first, we need to live.”
Aimee couldn’t help it, but she burst into manic, completely inappropriate laughter. As the hysteria quickly abated thanks to injury, flame and the need for oxygen, she muttered, “God, I love you.”
“I know,” Justine whispered. “I know.”
***
“Here it comes!” Joey yelled to Danny, as he waved his arms trying to attract the man’s attention over the sound of the dozer. The smoke had thinned enough to reveal flame lapping at the hill he saw Aimee disappear over twenty minutes ago. Danny lifted an arm in response. “Come on, Aimee,” Joey muttered to himself, searching the area to the northeast for signs of his sister.
For the last twenty minutes, they cleared as much as they could from around the house. Trees that had stood for hundreds of years had felt the bite of the chainsaw, and their remains were pushed far from person and property. The moonscape left behind made Joey’s heart ache, but if this was going to save the house and the stock crammed into the yards nearby, then so be it.
Watching the dozer take another lap around to increase the cleared ring near the sheep, Joey turned to rush back to the house to find Skycatcher running into the yards from the west. He stared at the horse for a moment before he swore loudly. “Damn you, you stupid, bloody idiot!” Tearing over to the bike Aimee had abandoned by the stables, he thrust it to life with his foot and spit dust across the vicinity as he raced up to the crest of the hill where the flames were showing their ugly heads. There had been no time to put on a helmet.
It took him a minute to reach the bottom of the hill, and when he did, he felt his heart lodge itself in his throat. Breathing became uncomfortable as the sight of two women and a circling dog, entangled in a slow shuffle down the hill overwhelmed him. Gunning the bike, he reached them just as the flame began to tip itself down the side of the hill.
Dark, smoky, and with air containing little oxygen, he slid to a halt beside them. Justine quickly steered Aimee to sit behind Joey, then followed Joey’s instructions to sit on the handlebars. It was awkward, and he nearly tipped them before he started off, but he would be damned if they were going to burn at the stake now.
Slowly, they pulled away, increasing the gap to the fire behind them. Aimee’s sure grip around his waist like a comforting reminder that they needed to beat this. They needed to live.
He had to turn to avoid a rock, and everything unbalanced in an instant. Justine flipped off the bars to sail over the rock, and Joey extended his hand to brace the fall for Aimee and himself. The last thing he heard was his sister cry with pain, and then…then there was nothing but darkness as the rock rose up to greet the side of his head with a bang that could have deafened the dead.
Chapter Twenty-One
Blackness. Nothing but devastation and desolation across hundreds of thousands of hectares in the central west of New South Wales. Fires raged across many areas in the state as dry, fuel-rich ground fell to the fray as electrical storms savaged the countryside. The sobering news out of Condobolin reported that ten people had lost their lives to the fires the media was sensationalising as Black December fires. When Christmas came, Santa offered very little to those whose lives had been touched by flame and ash except hollowed remains and cinders where a home once stood.
It broke Sally’s heart.
Stepping out of the stone homestead that offered the only piece of colour in a monotone landscape, she breathed in the heavy stench of charcoal and shivered despite the continued heat wave. A monotone landscape filled her view in every direction. Every direction but one. Around the pool at the Yarrabee Station homestead, sat everything she held dear in bright swimmers and gaudy towels.
The storm of fire had swept around the homestead her family fought so hard to protect. The stables suffered, as did the shearer’s quarters, but remaining steadfast and untouched was the grand stone home her forefathers had built.
Some of their stock lost their lives on their property that day, but three thousand remained to feed off imported grain and hay. Their horses survived, as did Mitsy. Insurance, hopefully, would replace the rest. They got off lightly. The owners of the property next door had nothing but a shell to return to.
“Hey, need a hand with that?” Justine asked as she emerged from the long, cool hallway.
Sally gave her a smile. “Thanks. I got it.” She shifted the platter of food in her hands. “How is she?”
“Still sleeping. I plan to leave her that way.” Justine gave Sally a wink.
Chuckling, Sally led the way to the shaded porch by the pool where her children played under the watchful eye of their father. “She’s always been a terrible patient. She’ll be up and about again the instant she opens her eyes.”
Justine nodded in agreement and watched her son tumble dive into the pool.
Sally’s eyes scanned the thin crowd. Her brother’s presence was sorely missed.
“Have you heard from Amber?” Justine asked quietly.
Sally put the platter on the table and sighed. “No change.”
Joey had yet to recover. A week in an induced coma had let the swelling on his brain subside. Groggily he had re-joined the world, but as what, they had yet to discover. The doctors presiding over her brother promised big things, but seeing such a strong man reduced to grunting, drooling, and the occasional twitch of a finger was gut wrenching. Coming home for Christmas had felt like running away, but Sally needed to find some reprieve from the ghost who was her brother.
Sally felt Justine’s hand touch her shoulder, squeezing in silent support. They had forged a bond close and tight since that awful Black Christmas day. Returning to the farm deep into the night when the road had cleared, Sally walked into a nightmare. Already panicked because none of her family had returned, she felt relief burn at her lungs when Danny emerged from the unscathed homestead to wrap her tightly in his arms and whisper words of love and forever. Moments later, fear gripped her. Limping, Justine had greeted her also. A large bruise marred her cheek and her wrist was being iced. She had waved the injuries off and showed her Joey and Aimee.
Covered with blood, Joey looked pale and lifeless. His head wrapped in bandages, Justine informed her the paramedics had been notified and they were waiting for the chopper. Beside her brother in the bed, was Aim
ee covered in soot, cuts, bruises and her leg oozing blood. A lump marked her forehead that had kept her unconscious since Danny had rescued them from the encroaching blaze.
Side-by-side, Danny, Justine, and Amber had kept vigil by the beds of those they loved. Quickly, Aimee recovered from her concussion, and slowly, her leg mended from the spike embedded deep into her flesh. Aimee had to be forcibly removed from her brother’s bedside when she found out about his brain injury. Another reason coming to the farm for Christmas was a good idea. It kept Aimee from exhausting herself beside Joey and Amber.
“Shall we?” Justine said, indicating the Christmas lunch now fully laid out on the table.
Sally smiled and nodded. Time to celebrate the fact that everyone was still alive.
***
“Hey,” came the whisper in her ear.
Aimee screwed her nose up at the sound.
“Time to wake up, sleepy head. Medication time.”
This time, Aimee grimaced and groaned. “Go away,” she said in a voice croaking with sleep.
She felt Justine’s chuckling make the bed bounce, and then a hand ran through her hair. “You can go back to sleep right after you have something to eat and your tablets. Okay?”
Aimee sighed and peeled her eyes open with some trouble. Sleeping had apparently done nothing to restore her exhaustion. Since the fire, she’d been utterly drained of energy. The doctors blamed the concussion she sustained as well as the blood loss and trauma to her leg injury. Struggling, she accepted Justine’s assistance to sit upright and lean against the headboard. “How long?”
“About three hours. You missed lunch.”
“You should have woken me,” Aimee said, not sorry that she had been left in peace. She sighed again. “Any word?”
Justine shook her head. “Here. I brought you Christmas lunch.” Justine handed her a small plate of food. Knowing she needed to have something with her tablets, she forced down some of Sally’s infamous Christmas ham. It tasted heavy and tiresome in her mouth. In years past, she would have fought her brother for the bulk of the delectable meat. Now, however, she was encumbered, the farm was in ruins, and her brother was fighting for quality of life in Sydney. Aimee pushed the plate away.
“Have some more in a bit, okay?” Justine said, handing over the antibiotics, painkillers, and a glass of water. Taking them dutifully, Aimee handed the glass back. Capturing the hand once disposing of the glass, Justine held it and ran her thumb over the back of Aimee’s knuckles. At Aimee’s heavy sigh, she said, “Everything’s going to work out, you know?”
Aimee nodded slowly, but she didn’t feel very positive about her answer.
Justine gave her a small smile and tucked a strand of hair behind Aimee’s ear. “You want to know why?”
“Why?”
“Because we’re all still here. The homestead is still here. Your family is alive. We’re alive. We made it through hell, and nothing could get worse than that.”
Aimee nodded and looked at their linked hands. Nothing but the fact that Joey was sick, and the woman she loved was only with her for a short time. Holidays would be soon over.
“What are you thinking?” Justine asked, smoothing out the frown on Aimee’s forehead.
“Nothing,” Aimee said with a smile and a shake of her head. “I’m just glad you’re here.”
“Good, because I plan to be for a long while.”
Aimee sighed. “For a few weeks at least.” Things had changed since their talk in the stables a fortnight ago.
Justine smiled and shook her head. “No, honey, for a long while.” Justine took a deep breath. “I have a filly to train, remember? Big commitment.”
Aimee furrowed her brows. “Yeah. Yeah, you do,” she said, tentatively following Justine’s vague suggestion. “But—”
“She’ll require constant attention. I don’t plan to let her run wild.”
“She could do with a firm, but kind hand.”
Justine bit back a grin. “Yes, she could. She’s strong-willed, stubborn, and full of mischief.”
Aimee frowned, not certain whether Justine was referring to the horse she had named Pebbles anymore.
“And I love her very much,” Justine said, reaching over and caressing Aimee’s cheek.
Aimee collected the hand in her own. “Are you sure? Even after everything that happened?”
“I’m very sure,” Justine said with a nod. “Even more so than before. We nearly lost each other, Aimee. I don’t want to miss out on a thing. If you’ll have us, then we’d very much like to stay.”
“For real?”
“For good, actually.”
Aimee’s chin wobbled as she stared at those sweet, watery eyes in front of her. “For good, then,” she said quietly.
“For good.”
Bringing Justine’s knuckles to her lips for a sweet kiss, Aimee smiled at the woman that meant everything and more and said, “I love you.”
Justine smiled. “I know.”
Six months later…
Aimee woke with a start and grimaced at the ache in her leg. According to the doctors, the trauma in her muscles was severe enough to expect a long recovery time. Every morning started this way, but if this was all she had to put up with, then she was happy enough. At least she could walk unassisted.
“Hey,” came the whisper beside her.
“Morning,” Aimee said softly back, kissing her girlfriend on the brow before leaving the bed. Stretching her leg and working out the stiffness, she moved to the newly renovated loft kitchen and prepared a cup of tea. Loud snores came from the added room off the main living area, and with a smile, she shuffled over and shut Aaron’s door. The boy had shot up in the past few months. His voice broke and, like Robbie, he was becoming a man. A man Aimee was honoured to help shape. He was a great kid, a testament to Justine’s ability as a mother, and he had adjusted to station life like he was born to it.
Making two cups when the kettle dinged, Aimee took one to her new, complete with doors and walls, bedroom, and handed it to Justine. Justine had lived up to her decision to move to the station and she had been an integral part of the rebuild. Summer rains had sparked growth across the property, and insurance claims replaced lost property and stock. They also paid for a new wing in the stable complete with two-bedroom loft. They had moved in together and hadn’t looked back since.
“Ready for today?” Aimee asked.
“Yes. You? You have to wear a dress.” Justine chuckled into her cup. Nothing like a wedding to make a woman frock up.
Aimee grimaced and sipped at her own tea. “Don’t remind me.”
Reclining against the headboard and relaxing into the feeling of Justine caressing her leg, Aimee soon took a deep breath. “I better go do the stables before all this la-di-da later.”
“Don’t forget, only one sugar cube for Pebbles. I swear that horse has a sweet tooth to rival Rolly’s.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
***
Clomping downstairs a few minutes later, Aimee moved through her care routine of the horses and headed over to the house after swinging past the new chicken coop. Rebuilt to represent the homestead on the insistence of the children, the ten chickens kept them in enough eggs to feed an army. Rolly had mourned the loss of her birds thanks to the fire, but her new flock had filled the hole in her heart.
“Six eggs today,” Aimee said, walking into the kitchen where Sally was bustling about. “That little bugger Henrietta nipped me again. You need to talk to your daughter about taming those chooks.”
Sally chuckled. “Put them over there, for now, I’m out of egg cartons,” she said, pointing to a cane basket. “Want a cuppa?”
“No thanks, had one already. Do you need a hand?” Aimee frowned at the clutter of containers on the bench. “What’s all this for?”
Sally huffed. “The caterers gave us nothing but foil trays to hold everything. Useless. I’m going to spoon it all into those.”
“I’ll help.”
>
Sally responded by getting an armful of foil trays with cardboard lids out of the fridge and placed them on the kitchen table. “Knock yourself out.”
“I wouldn’t recommend it,” Joey’s voice said from the doorway. He shuffled in on his walking sticks and sat beside Aimee. The hair had grown over the site where his head collected the granite rock all those months ago, and the colour had returned to his face.
“Nervous?” Aimee asked, spooning a glob of potato salad into a container.
“Nope,” Joey said, his voice cracking.
Sally and Aimee shared a grin.
“Yeah, what’s there to be nervous about,” Aimee said with a shrug of her shoulder. “I mean, it’s only forever. You know, until the end of time.”
Joey narrowed his eyes at his sister. “You’re next, you realise that?”
Aimee choked on an inhale of air. “Marriage? Me? Oh, hell no!” Joey and Sally chuckled. “Besides, it’s not legal for me.”
“And if it was?” Sally asked.
“Then no. You two hardly offered the best example of the benefits of marriage.”
“Hey! My marriage is just fine, thank you very much,” Sally said in protest.
“Yeah, now, maybe. But it took a disaster for you and Danny to snap out of your funk.”
Sally pursed her lips and turned her back to her sister. Opening her mouth to deliver what was no doubt a scathing comeback, she was interrupted when Justine raced into the kitchen looking panicked. “Help!”
Aimee rolled her eyes. “Let me guess, the bride is having a wardrobe malfunction.”
“More like her waters breaking all over the rug malfunction. She’s in labour!”
“Yes! I knew it.” Aimee fist-pumped the air before reining in her excitement. She cleared her throat.
Justine looked to Sally after giving her an unimpressed look. “Sal?”
