Australia Outback Fantasies

by Margaret Way

  Inside was a box covered with a collage of pictures cut from magazines—the kind of collage a child might create with pictures of rock stars, sporting heroes and film stars mixed in with whales, dolphins and baby seals.

  Mystified, Nell opened the box and found a pile of Christmas and birthday cards—all the cards she had ever sent to Tegan.

  Jean had written:

  I was cleaning out Tegan’s room when I found these and I thought you should have them. There is one we need to talk about.

  ‘She kept them all,’ Nell whispered, her throat tightening as the truth of this sank in.

  Tegan had kept every single card that Nell had ever sent, all of them, right back to the card covered in mischievous tabby kittens, sent for her daughter’s fifth birthday.

  Nell had completely forgotten that card, but now, seeing those cheeky kittens playing with a ball of red wool, she could remember exactly how she’d felt when she’d bought it. She could recall the ages she’d spent in the newsagent’s before making that selection, the agonies she’d gone through trying to decide what to write inside.

  Finally, she’d settled on a very simple message: Happy Birthday, dear Tegan. Love, Nell. She’d only ever signed her name as Nell.

  Now, as she sifted through the cards she’d sent, she felt renewed gratitude to Jean who’d allowed this precious contact.

  How carefully she’d selected these cards. When Tegan had been small there’d been cute cards with fairies and flowers, kittens, puppies and ducklings. As her daughter had grown older Nell had chosen funny cards, or ones she’d hoped were funny, then something ‘cool’ during the teenage years.

  At Christmas Nell had always sent Tegan an ‘Australiana’ card—beautiful scenes from the Outback, a gentle nudge to acquaint her daughter with her natural roots—creamy paperbarks beside a quiet billabong, a dog on a tucker box, gum-trees, blue hills at the edge of a flat, red plain.

  Nell frowned as she reached the last Christmas card she’d sent Tegan. There was something tucked inside it—folded sheets of writing paper.

  Puzzled, she unfolded the pages, then realised they were nothing to do with her. This was a letter for Tegan, written closely in a spiky, masculine hand. Goosebumps broke out on Nell’s skin as she recognised Jacob’s handwriting.

  She shouldn’t read this. But it was already too late. Her eyes had skimmed the opening paragraph, the first page.

  Dear Tegan,

  I can never thank you enough for writing to me. You have no idea what it meant to hear from you and I’m so happy to know you’re alive and well. I have a daughter!!!! How fabulous is that?

  At last I know what became of my child.

  I understand that you must wonder why you were given up for adoption. Believe me, Tegan, I did not want to lose you. I wanted you. You are the result of my love for a very special woman. I planned to provide for you, to care for you and your mother, but circumstances beyond my control intervened.

  Nell’s vision blurred.

  She couldn’t bear this. Jacob’s letter was so sweet, but she shouldn’t go on to read the next page. Tears fell as she folded it and slipped it back inside the envelope.

  Had Jean Browne known Jacob’s letter was there? Had she read it?

  Wiping her eyes with the backs of her hands, Nell looked down at Sam, kicking on the rug, batting his hands in the air as he tried to reach the bright, stuffed Humpty Dumpty that Jacob had bought him. The baby saw her looking at him and his little face broke into a grin.

  Oh, the sweetheart.

  The dear little man. Nell scooped him up and cuddled him close. How warm and alive and delightfully chubby he was.

  Tegan’s bonny little boy.

  With the baby in her lap, she tidied the cards and picked up the box to return them but, as she lifted the lid, she saw something that she’d missed earlier.

  A white envelope with a note attached by a paper-clip.

  I only found this today, when I finally cleaned out Tegan’s desk. I thought it would be best if you and Jacob read it first and then we need to talk, to work out what to do.

  The envelope was addressed in round, girlish handwriting in purple ink and it was addressed to Mr Mitch Bradley who lived, apparently, in a suburb of Sydney. Tegan’s address was on the back and the letter was stamped, but there was no postmark.

  Mitch Bradley.

  Nell had never heard of him, but she felt a ghostly premonition as she stared at the envelope. Why did Jean think this letter was so important?

  Could he be Sam’s father?

  She was suddenly afraid. Sam’s father.

  Sam’s father could threaten their happy little family.

  Not again. Please, no, not Sam. I can’t lose him, too.

  The seal on the envelope had been broken and Nell could feel the sheets of stationery inside, but she couldn’t bring herself to open it.

  As she sat there, her hands shaking with her indecision, she was saved by the growl of an engine outside. Jacob had been checking fences and feeding supplements to his heifers in the breeder paddock and now he was back. Quickly, Nell stuffed the cards and letters into the box and closed the lid firmly.

  With Sam in her arms, she straightened her shoulders, determined to be cheerful. She’d prepared a salad for their lunch, cold chicken and avocado. She would let Jacob enjoy his meal before she told him about the unsettling puzzle that had arrived in the mail.

  Her heart gave a tiny, love-sick lurch as she watched him swing out of his truck and take the back stairs two at a time.

  ‘And how are my two favourite people?’ he asked, dropping a kiss on Nell’s cheek and another on the top of Sam’s head.

  ‘We’re as happy as fleas.’ Nell dredged up a show of gaiety.

  But perhaps she wasn’t very convincing. Jacob’s eyes narrowed. ‘Fleas?’ He smiled carefully, and asked cautiously, ‘And how happy are they?’

  Nell offered a smile in reply and gave a little shrug. ‘How were your heifers and fences?’ she asked, hoping to deflect him.

  ‘The heifers are fine. But a few sections of fence needed mending.’ He frowned, looked directly into her eyes. ‘Are you sure you’re OK? You seem tense somehow.’

  ‘I’m fine. Go and get cleaned up. Lunch is almost ready.’

  Nell put Sam in the baby swing they’d set up at one end of the kitchen and she set the table and took the salad from the fridge, added dressing and tossed it. Wished she felt calmer.

  Having grown up at Half Moon, she knew the right questions to ask Jacob about the property, so while they ate she quizzed him about the bores and the pasture and the condition of the heifers. Unfortunately, Jacob wasn’t easily deceived.

  When the meal was almost finished and they were drinking tea, he challenged her again. ‘There’s something bothering you, Nell.’

  Perhaps it was best to get this over with. ‘Something came in the mail from Jean. Bring your tea into the lounge room. It’s all in there.’

  Her stomach tied itself in knots as Jacob followed her. ‘Jean Browne sent me this box,’ she explained, taking the lid off and showing Jacob the contents. ‘These are all the cards I sent Tegan, and there’s a letter.’ Quickly she located the card in the pile with Jacob’s letter inside it.

  She handed it to him and watched his face as he unfolded the notepaper and recognised his writing. She saw his strong features tighten and the muscles in his throat work. When he looked up, his eyes were extra bright.

  ‘You read this?’ he asked quietly.

  ‘Only the beginning. I’m sorry. I’d started reading before I realised what it was.’

  He shook his head. ‘I don’t mind. It’s only the truth about how I felt.’ Carefully, he refolded the letter and slipped it into his shirt pocket, then looked at her with a worried frown. ‘Is that what you’re upset about?’

  ‘No, not that. I thought what you wrote was beautiful.’ Nell showed him the envelope. ‘There was another letter.’

  She held her breath as Jac
ob read Jean’s note and then the address, turned the envelope over and read Tegan’s sender details.

  ‘You haven’t read this one?’

  ‘No. I was getting up the nerve when you arrived back.’

  He tapped a brown finger against the front of the envelope. ‘You know who this Mitch Bradley probably is, don’t you?’

  She swallowed a prickle of fear. ‘I suppose he might be Sam’s father.’

  ‘I’d say there’s a fair chance.’

  For a long moment they stared at each other and Nell knew Jacob’s thoughts echoed hers. These thin sheets of paper could reveal the one person in the world who could take Sam away from them.

  ‘We’d better have a look at it,’ Jacob said with the carefully composed expression of a doctor discussing his patient’s need for open heart surgery.

  ‘I wish we didn’t have to.’ Nell’s voice vibrated querulously.

  ‘We don’t have any choice, Nell.’

  She knew Jacob was right, but she felt ill. How could she bear to lose Sam?

  From the kitchen came the sound of his whimpers.

  She said, ‘You read the letter while I get the baby.’ It was cowardly to be scared, but she couldn’t help it. She was glad to escape.

  Sam needed changing and she took her time attending to him, gave him an extra cuddle and fetched a bottle of boiled water for him to drink.

  When she returned to the lounge room, Jacob was sitting in a deep leather armchair, his expression sombre. ‘You’d better read it,’ he said.

  A disturbing light in his eyes made her heart leap. ‘Is Mitch Bradley the father?’

  Jacob nodded.

  Nell groaned as she pictured an angry young man storming Koomalong, sweeping Sam out of her arms and out of their lives.

  ‘I’ll take Sam while you read it,’ Jacob said, holding the letter out to her.

  It was not a fair exchange, Nell thought. Her arms felt empty as she gave Sam up and she fumbled trying to prise the pages out of the envelope. Her heart hammered as she sank on to the sofa and began to read.

  Dear Mitch,

  This letter has been a long time coming, so long that you might have forgotten what happened when we picked peaches together in Beechworth last summer. I went to that raging Christmas party with you. Remember?

  I’ve written so many letters and torn them up. I hope this time I’ll get the words down without panicking. The thing is, I’ve had a baby, Mitch. He’s almost six weeks old, so if you do your maths you’ll see that I fell pregnant at the end of November.

  OK, I’m sweating telling you this, but you’re the father. I know this will be a shock because we took precautions, but something must have gone wrong. I swear I didn’t sleep with anyone else the whole summer.

  I very nearly didn’t tell you, because I understand this will not be good news for you. I know you were only picking fruit for a few weeks and then heading back to Sydney to join your rock band and the whole father bit will totally wreck your life.

  But I’m adopted, you see. I don’t think I mentioned that before. And just recently I had a letter from my father—my real father. It blew me away. He’s so cool. All this time I never knew him and he sounds like the greatest guy. A cattleman. I can’t wait to meet him.

  Then I started thinking about Sam, my little baby, and how he will never know his father and how sad that’s going to be for him.

  Don’t panic. I don’t expect you to marry me or anything insane like that. But you do have a right to know about your son.

  After that, it’s up to you.

  I might be too busy to write again because Sam keeps me really busy, but at least now you have my address.

  Hope you’re not too bummed by this.

  Luv,

  Tegan.

  Nell looked up from the letter.

  Jacob’s face was solemn as he watched her. ‘It’s dated the day before the accident.’

  ‘Is it?’ She hadn’t taken any notice of the date and now she turned back to the first page and saw that he was right. ‘Poor Tegan.’

  ‘Poor Mitch.’

  ‘He’s in for a shock.’

  But she was shocked, too. Her gaze flew to Sam, who looked so adorably cute and comfortable in Jacob’s strong arms. So at home, so right.

  She tossed the letter on to the coffee table. ‘It’s so unfair to learn about this now.’ She snatched up a cushion and hugged it to her chest. ‘I’ve fallen completely in love with Sam.’

  ‘I know. I know …’ Jacob sighed heavily. ‘But we’ll have to talk to this Mitch Bradley. He’s obviously Sam’s father.’

  ‘What if he wants to contest Sam’s custody? I couldn’t stand it.’ Nell knew she sounded petulant, but she couldn’t help it. ‘It sounds as if he’s in a rock band. He’s probably as irresponsible as they come.’

  ‘We don’t know that, do we? You’re prejudging the bloke.’

  Was she? Was she really? How could Tegan’s footloose young boyfriend have the same longing to care for Sam that she had?

  ‘Jacob, don’t you care that this Mitch guy might try to take Sam away from us?’

  ‘Of course I do.’

  He looked sad and too impossibly gorgeous, sitting there with Sam in his arms. Nell closed her eyes and struggled to think clearly, without bias. But she couldn’t get past the mind-numbing thought that she and Jacob were facing the possibility of losing Sam, that the fragile dynamics of their relationship were completely threatened.

  They’d only had a few short weeks, had just started to get to know each other after twenty years.

  And the reality was that Jacob had only invited her to Koomalong because of Sam. She and Jacob were only back together because of Sam.

  If Sam was taken out of the equation.

  She couldn’t bear to think about it.

  Sam squirmed in Jacob’s arms and she jumped at the chance to escape before she blurted out her fears and Jacob confirmed them. ‘I’d better take him now. It’s time for his feed, and then his naptime.’

  Jacob felt as if he’d been slammed by a ten ton truck as he watched Nell leave the room.

  In theory, he’d applauded the idea of finding Sam’s father. He’d spent twenty years in the dark before discovering he had a daughter and he didn’t want to see another guy suffer that pain.

  This was not something that could be quietly swept under the rug. It was about honouring a man’s rights, about giving him the knowledge, the very fact that he had a child.

  But now …

  Now, Jacob had to ask himself what this honesty might cost. Heaven help him. He had so much at stake.

  Nell.

  Sam.

  His best chance at happiness.

  And he was terribly afraid that Sam’s young father had the potential to take all that away from him.

  Anxiety propelled him out of his chair. He marched through the house to the back veranda and glared at the familiar view of sweeping paddocks dotted with gum trees and grazing cattle.

  He knew he wouldn’t be able to ignore this letter to Mitch Bradley. But right at this moment he wished that it had never arrived. Very soon, he would have to go inside to track down a phone number and ring this young man. And there was every chance that he and Nell would have to make a trip to Sydney to meet him.

  Mitch Bradley might be smitten by little Sam—in fact, it was more than likely. And where would that leave Nell?

  Deprived of her daughter, she’d given her whole heart to Sam. She adored him and to lose him now would be too, too cruel a blow. And to battle for him in court would be a horrendous business. Soul-destroying.

  And the worst of it was that Jacob knew that he was ultimately responsible. For everything. That one unprotected act of lust all those years ago that had messed up so many lives.

  What a fool he’d been then—too crazy about Nell to think straight. Problem was, he was just as big a fool now—he was still crazy about her. And he’d placed an extra burden on her by dragging her here to Koom
along.

  His most foolish mistake had been thinking that if he got back together with Nell, the rest of their lives would fall into place. Happy every after. The whole damn fairy tale. As if life could be that simple, as if happiness could ever be free from the debts of the past.

  With a groan of despair, he thought of the rings he’d bought on impulse when he was in Roma last week. They were in a jewellery box that he’d stowed away in the back of his wardrobe. What an idiot he’d been to think that just because Nell was spending a few weeks under his roof, she would be his forever.

  He’d dragged her away from her lovely cottage, from her neighbours and friends, from the life she’d led for the past twenty years. He’d seduced her almost as soon as he’d got her under his roof and if she stopped to think about it, she would probably decide that he’d lured her to Koomalong with Sam as the bait.

  Sighing heavily, burdened by the weight of his guilt, he went back into the house. He dreaded the way this might turn out, but he had no choice. He would have to find Mitch Bradley’s number on the Internet …

  Nell tucked a light blanket over Sam, then kissed two fingers and pressed them against his warm cheek. She tiptoed out of the room and found Jacob waiting in the hall outside. He looked dreadful. Pale despite his tan. Thinner, as if he’d lost masses of weight in the past thirty minutes.

  ‘Have you rung Sam’s father yet?’ she asked.

  He shook his head and she felt an instantaneous leap of hope.

  ‘Do we really have to go through with this, Jacob?’

  He smiled wearily. ‘I know how you feel and I’m as worried as you are. But then I remembered something I couldn’t ignore.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘We can’t hide the truth. We’d be as bad as your parents, Nell.’

  Oh, heavens. He was right. She had never been able to forgive her parents for their deception. This wasn’t quite the same, but it was deception nonetheless, carrying the sins of her father into the next generation.

  ‘How could I forget?’ She gave a helpless little shake of her head. ‘We can’t ignore Tegan’s wishes. She obviously meant Mitch to know about his son.’