"Not too much further," Meghan called encouragingly a couple of meters up the rocky mountain incline.
"People do this every day?" Darcy paused and bent over, hands on his knees, while he caught his breath. He was used to doing strenuous work on the station but the 'Goat Track' walk up Castle Hill was a serious workout.
"It's a rite of passage in Townsville. If you can conquer Castle Hill, you can do anything!" Meghan said. She admired Darcy's form as she watched him rest. His skin flushed from exercise, rivers of sweat trickling from his body staining his new blue singlet. His black shorts exposed tight calves and thighs, so rarely exposed to the elements. His body was now as familiar to Meghan as her own after their four amazing weekends together. They were in a routine now, he flew down late Friday night, and she collected him from the airport. They spent all night and most of the next morning making up for the time apart, before heading out for lunch and sightseeing.
She had introduced him to art galleries, plays and real barista-made coffee. He had been intrigued and receptive to all the new experiences city life offered.
"Can we take the road down?" Darcy asked before drinking deeply from his water bottle.
"Of course, the Goat Track is better going up than down." The rocky steps and loose gravel made it difficult and hard to manoeuvre in places. "I promise it will be worth it at the top."
Ten minutes of steep stairs later, they reached the top and were welcomed by the magnificent view of Townsville and Magnetic Island. His eyes widened as he took in the view.
Despite the humidity and scorching November sun, there were many people at the lookout taking in the remarkable view.
"So, we could have driven." He grinned as he waited for a car to pass by, hoping to find a vacant parking space.
"Yeah, but that would be cheating." She stepped closer and wiped away the sweat from his face with her towel before kissing him softly. "Well done."
Darcy enveloped her in his arms. "I'm glad to see you’re not exhausted. You'll need your energy for later." He teased as he returned her kiss.
Meghan held him tightly. Her love for him had grown more every day. How had she not seen how perfect they were for each other from the start?
"Darcy." Meghan started shyly. "I miss you so much when you're not here. It's getting harder to let you go. What are we going to do?"
He exhaled. "I know. I guess I could move to Townsville."
"You'd do that?" She was surprised by his reply.
"I'd do anything for you."
Meghan considered a future in the city with Darcy. What would he do? Jobs were scarce since the mining collapse, and his talents were better spent in the country. "You belong on a station. We belong on a station. I’m concerned about your family. How are we going to tell Lachie?" She voiced the worry that had haunted her all these weeks. He would have to be told. But how? How could they break such overwhelming news and not have their betrayal tear the family apart?
"He's already clued on that I'm seeing someone here," Darcy explained. "Lachie keeps grilling me for more information."
"What do you say?"
"I tell him to piss off, that it's none of his business." Darcy nuzzled her neck. "I will tell him but the time's not right. Not yet."
"Alright. But we can't let it go too long. Lying about it will add to the betrayal." Her words were wise. She had thought long and hard about it.
She turned to him with a gleam in her eye. "Have you got your mobile?"
"Yeah." Darcy pulled it out of his pocket. His phone was getting some serious use now with their daily phone calls and frequent text messages.
She took it and positioned it to take a selfie of them. The first photo she took they were both smiling blissfully, like they didn't have a care in the world. Then she set it up again, but this time, they were kissing when they took the photo. Their love for each other captured forever.
Chapter 17
Darcy swatted at the flies swarming around his face and sucked in a hot, dusty breath as he watched the Droughtmaster cattle push their way into the mustering yards, lowing noisily. He whistled Joey to keep the mob tight as he and Lachie took up the rear.
"That's it." Lachie called as the last cattle finally pushed through the gate and he latched it in place.
Lachie strode over to his brother. "I need a beer. Still some in the ringers’ fridge?"
"Sure is." Darcy answered as they fell in step and walked to the fibro building Darcy was still calling home. He liked his new-found privacy and it meant he could talk to Meghan on the phone without worry that someone might overhear.
He removed his Akubra and wiped his forehead with his shirt sleeve as Lachie pulled two cold beers from the fridge.
The sun was setting behind the yards as the men sat at the table and nursed their beers. Lachie made quick work of his and retrieved another one before Darcy was even half way through his.
"What time is the truck coming tomorrow for the heifers?" Darcy asked.
"Noon. Plenty of time to sort them." Lachie answered and stretched his long legs out. "You around this weekend or playing hookie with your girl?" he teased.
"Staying here. Too much work to do." Darcy was sick of Lachie's teasing and he still wasn’t sure how to tell him about Meghan.
As if on cue his mobile started ringing. He reached for it quickly in his back pocket and silenced it. Meghan's picture disappeared as the phone darkened. He placed it on the table and lifted his beer to his mouth. She’d understand when he called her back and explained why he couldn’t take her call.
"Have you still got Dad's stock whip?" Lachie eyed him curiously. "Thought I might try my hand at it."
"It's in the shed." Darcy nodded in the direction of the shed next to the ringers' quarters.
"Can you grab it? I can never find anything in there."
Darcy pushed back from the table and did as his brother asked.
It took a while of sorting through boxes and dust to locate the whip and when Darcy finally returned with it, he found Lachie next to the fridge, red faced as he scrolled through Darcy's phone.
"Shit!" Darcy muttered under his breath, rebuking himself for carelessly leaving the phone on the table. Meghan had tried to lock it with a password but Darcy had stopped her from complicating the blasted thing.
Lachie would have been eager to see what this elusive girlfriend looked like and what romantic texts were being exchanged. Now he had his answer and he didn't like it.
"Meghan?" Lachie looked up and showed his brother the picture of Meghan and Darcy kissing. "Of all the bloody people, you're screwing my ex-fiancé?"
Darcy took a slow step toward him, arms raised the way he would approach a spooked horse.
"It only started after she went back to Townsville."
Lachie finished his beer and pulled out another, sculling it like water.
"Hey, slow down, mate," Darcy said tersely.
"You shut up and don't tell me what to do," Lachie yelled furiously. "I was going to marry her! Is that why she left? What she chose you instead?" His voice dripped with disgust and hatred.
Lachie threw the phone on the concrete floor in front of Darcy. The impact caused the phone to break apart.
"I swear we were just friends then. I—"
"Shut up. I don't want to hear any of it. You bastard!" Lachie launched himself at Darcy and started pounding him with his fists.
Usually Darcy was the underdog when they wrestled, and although Lachie's fist collided painfully on his cheek and ribs, his aim was marred by his intoxication. Lachie winded him in the stomach and took the opportunity to move back a few steps.
"I'm sorry. We never wanted to hurt you, believe me," Darcy said as he wiped blood from his cheek.
Lachie held his stomach and panted for a few minutes before looking back up at his brother. "Fuck you, Darcy, and get off my property."
Darcy stared at him but stood his ground.
"Fuck you both." Lachie screamed and limped out of the ringers�
� quarters.
Darcy bent down and retrieved the pieces of his broken phone.
For better or worse the truth was out. Darcy would try talking to him again tomorrow. When he was sober.
He heard the rough noise of a motor starting and he lifted his head to see Lachie sitting on his quad bike starting it up in the darkness. What was the fool doing? He asked himself.
Darcy rushed out to stop him but the bike was already speeding off into the night. "Lachie!" he screamed.
A few seconds later a chilling, smashing sound echoed through the paddocks, followed by an explosion of flames.
The flames were spreading rapidly, their red tongues spitting embers to neighbouring dry grass. Darcy was engulfed in fear as he saw the smoke rise to the sky. He screamed Lachie’s name as he ran towards the accident.
He found Lachie's limp body far enough from the fire and wreckage of his quad bike to assume he had been thrown when the bike hit the old gum tree. The fuel tank had probably exploded.
Darcy checked his brother’s neck for a pulse. He felt it faintly under his fingers. By the firelight, he could see his chest was rising slowly but his neck looked to be at an awkward angle.
His own heart racing, fearing for his brother's life, Darcy rummaged for Lachie's cell phone in his pants. "Lachie stay with me," he whispered as he searched for the phone. Once retrieved, he scrolled through his contacts and found the number for The Royal Flying Doctor Service.
He relayed information to them, two minutes later he saw headlights approaching the scene. Darcy ended the call as Harriet ran to Lachie’s side.
"The RFD is sending in the helicopter in case it's a spinal injury." Darcy told his mother as she knelt beside her eldest son. "They said not to move him."
Silent tears slid down her cheeks as she placed her hand on Lachie's chest to monitor his breathing.
"I'll stay with him. You need to deal with that." Harriet pointed to the fire.
The flames were struggling to find nourishment in the sparse, dry grass, the gum tree now fully emblazed. Darcy felt its warming heat and watched the broken remains of the quad bike melt.
"I'll take your car and get the extinguisher." He said and passed the mobile to his mother. "You take this in case anything changes."
Darcy climbed in his mother's Land Cruiser and drove quickly back to the ringers' quarters. As he parked the car he hit the steering wheel in anger, "Shit, shit, shit!" He screamed. His eyes stung from the smoke. He could smell it on his clothes.
Stupid Lachie, riding that thing in the dark, drunk and angry. Stupid me, for not stopping him.
Chapter 18
Meghan glanced at the time on her mobile. Why hadn’t Darcy called her back yet? He always called at this time of day. She imagined him, clean and fresh from his evening shower. His hair dampening his neck. A warm, tingly sensation spread through her body at the thought of him. He was a passionate man who could be surprisingly gentle. Her appetite for him never seemed to be sated. The more she got the more she wanted. Their separation was driving her crazy with desire. It had only been three days since his last visit, but already she was aching to see him again.
The familiar ringtone came from her mobile and she reached for it excitedly, but stopped when she saw Lachie's number displayed. Her heart raced as she debated not answering it. But what if Darcy was using his brother's phone? Although that didn’t seem likely considering they were keeping their relationship secret until Darcy found the right time to tell him.
What if Lachie had found out? He could be calling to confront her. Only one way to find out.
"Hello." Her voice was nervously quiet.
"Meghan. It's Harriet."
"Harriet. Hi, how are you?" Meghan relaxed into the sofa. It was comforting to hear the older woman’s voice.
"I'm at the Townsville Base Hospital. There's been an accident." Harriet’s voice was choked with emotion.
Cold panic swept through Meghan like a flash flood. "Is it Darcy? Is he okay?"
"Darcy's fine. He's flying here now. It's Lachie, he's in surgery."
Meghan swallowed hard. Panic setting in. He must be in bad condition to be airlifted to Townsville. "Oh, my God. What happened?"
"Darcy said he drove his quad bike into a tree. He’d been drinking. The doctors suspected spinal injuries so he was helicoptered here instead of Mt Isa. I flew here with him."
"I’m leaving now. I'll be there soon." Meghan knew how it felt to wait for a loved one to come out of emergency. She knew Harriet wouldn’t want to be there alone. She didn’t need to ask.
"Thank you."
After she hung up the phone her mind whirled with possibilities. Why did he drive his quad bike into a tree? What if he died?
She gathered her bag and keys and looked around the room, shock over taking her.
"Please Lachie, don't die."
The emergency department was freezing cold after the heat of the night outside and Meghan shivered as she strode through the heavily disinfected corridor. She knew exactly where Harriet would be. Grief for her own mother piled on top of her as she remembered the helpless, terrified agony of waiting to hear the outcome of emergency surgery. She braced herself against a bleached white wall while waves of fear washed over her. Not again please. Please God, don’t let him die here too.
After a few deep breaths, she continued her path and soon came upon the waiting room. There she was. Harriet sat, head down, her greying hair fell like a curtain around her face.
Harriet looked up as Meghan approached. Ridged with tension she stood and accepted Meghan’s comforting embrace.
"Have you heard anything?" Meghan noted the dark circles around Harriet’s eyes.
"Nothing yet." Harriet shook her head and fell back into the hard plastic chair as though her knees had buckled.
Meghan held her friend’s hand. "What happened?"
"Darcy said they argued and Lachie drove off on the quad. It crashed into a tree and exploded."
"Oh, my God." Meghan put her hand to her mouth. She imagined the scene and thought of how horrifying it must have been for Darcy to witness the event.
A doctor dressed in blue scrubs approached. "Mrs. McGuire."
Meghan was swamped with grief, she looked at Harriet whose eyes mirrored her fear.
"Yes. How is Lachie?"
"We’ve successfully stopped the bleeding and we’re waiting for some test results. He’s bruised substantially and has two broken ribs, suspected nerve damage in his arm and legs and some minor burns."
"Will he be okay?" she begged.
"He’s in a coma. We’ll know more when he wakes up." The doctor put his hand on Harriet’s shoulder. "He’s young and strong. The sooner he wakes up the better."
Harriet slumped against Meghan who put a supportive arm around her. "Can we see him?"
"Sure. Come this way." The Doctor lead them to the intensive care ward. It was cold and filled with people in various casts and bandages.
Behind a curtain, they were shown Lachie’s bruised and bloodied body. Bile rose in Meghan’s throat while Harriet sobbed at the sight of her son. There was a cannula in his arm pumping lifesaving blood and saline back into his body.
Harriet sat in a chair and held his free hand. She spoke soft words of comfort to her son.
Tears flooded down Meghan’s face and she covered her mouth to muffle her sobs. His skin was so pale. Like he was dead. He still might die. He might not wake up. If he does he might have severe brain injuries. Until he woke up no one knew for sure what the extent of his injuries would be. Lachie was so young, with so much living still to do. This couldn't be happening to him. It wasn't fair. She squeezed her eyes shut but a memory of her mother's broken body lying in a similar hospital bed invaded her thoughts. Her mother had never regained consciousness after the accident. Meghan had never been able to say good bye. To tell her she loved her.
She swallowed past the sadness that remained as raw as the day she had buried her mother, and opened her eye
s. Harriet needed her now. Meghan straightened her shoulders and placed her hand on Harriet's shoulder. No one should go through this alone.
The first thing Darcy saw when the curtain was drawn open, was Lachie laying on the bed, hooked up to machines. The nurse had said he was fighting, but he hadn't believed her. He tried to swallow down the emotion as he looked around the room. His mother sat in a traumatised heap on a shabby-looking chair. Meghan stood behind her, a reassuring hand on his mother's shoulder. He was surprised to see her, but grateful she was there and his mother had not been alone.
"He's not dead?" Darcy's voice was surprisingly calm even to him.
The women looked up at his arrival. Harriet clutched his hand and held onto him for dear life. "He’s in a coma. We won’t know the extent of his injuries until results come back and he wakes up."
"But he’ll wake up?" Darcy looked at his mother, then at Meghan. Neither of them could answer the question. He looked down at his brother surrounded by machines and tubes.
Meghan touched his shoulder. "They're hopeful."
The compassion and love in her eyes was almost his undoing. He wanted to pull her into an embrace and accept the comfort she offered. But, he couldn't crumble right now. He had to remain strong for his Mum. With everything they'd been through—his father's death, Noah moving away, the drought—he didn't think she could take the death of a child.
"I need to walk." He glanced at his mother before slipping around the curtain. He needed to move, to scream, to stop thinking. There was nothing left but to pace the hospital's hallway while they waited for the news that might shatter their world.
Meghan followed him out.
"I was so scared we would lose him. The whole flight here I was preparing myself to plan a funeral." He looked blankly ahead, still in a state of shock.
"I’m sure he will be fine." She squeezed his hand. He hadn’t even realised she had been holding it. He stopped suddenly and looked at her properly. "I’m glad you’re here. Did Mum call you?"
The Brothers of Brigadier Station Page 13
