Christmas at Brigadier Station

by Sarah Williams

  Abbie was leaning against the doorframe watching them and as Hannah passed through, Abbie quirked an eyebrow at Harriet.

  “What?” Harriet felt her cheeks heat.

  Abbie shrugged a shoulder, a knowing look in her eye. “I’ve never seen you like this—so happy.”

  Harriet considered the situation. “I am happy. I never thought I would see Tom again after school, but it feels like fate has brought us back together.”

  Abbie moved to wrap an arm around Harriet’s waist. “You deserve it and so much more. You have been this family’s rock. Don’t let the opportunity for happiness pass you by.”

  Emotion threatened to overwhelm Harriet as she looked at her soon-to-be daughter-in-law. “Thank you, Abbie. It means a lot to me that I have everyone’s support.”

  “Oh, you do. Lachie and Darcy can’t stop singing the bloke’s praises. I think Tom is the man they both want to be when they grow up.”

  Harriet giggled before the women entered the house to re-join the rest of the family, though she couldn’t help the feeling of foreboding sliding its way through her. Brian was here for a reason and she couldn’t help thinking it would spell disaster for her fragile new relationship. Hopefully she was just being silly, reading too much into a harmless situation. Best not to worry about things and focus on the present, she mused as she headed inside.

  Noah and Riley would arrive tomorrow and all her family would be here. It would be the first Christmas they had all spent together. Tom had been invited too, and she wanted nothing more than for him to join them.

  But how would that work with Brian here?

  It might just take a Christmas miracle.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Tom saw Brian sitting on the porch steps waiting for him as he parked his vehicle. His son was built like the rugby player he was with broad shoulders and a physique sculpted from years of hard work and weekend sport. Brian stood as Tom exited the vehicle and shut the door behind him before striding up the stairs to his son. A mixture of pleasure at seeing Brian and apprehension as to why he was really here hid behind his smile.

  “Dad.” Brian gave him a tight smile before shaking his hand.

  “It's good to see you, son,” Tom said, wishing he really meant it.

  There was an awkward silence between them and Brian shuffled his feet awkwardly. Tom waved towards the paddocks. "So what do you think of the place?"

  Brian raised his eyebrows slightly in response, giving his father a you're-kidding-me-right look.

  When he didn't answer, Tom continued, "This place has so much potential, so much I can do with it. And now that there's been rain, I won’t have to wait long. The grass will shoot up and I can bring in some stock. Maybe even try some of that regenerative stuff you've been talking about."

  Brian moved closer to his father, his voice quiet when he spoke. "You didn't have to move so far away. When you gave me the reins of the property, we never expected you to move way out here and start again." Brian's shoulders slumped ever so slightly. "I guess I kind of expected you to stay around and help me out."

  Tom was torn between loyalty to his family, and also knowing that sometimes a father had to let his children make their own mistakes and learn their own lessons. “Like I told you before," Tom said, "it's your place now and you need to run it the way you see fit. You're the one with the Ag degree. You don't need your dad hassling you, trying to run it over your shoulder."

  Brian frowned at his father. “But it's too much work for one person. I need your help, especially now with the rain. There’s so much work to be done. Fences to be repaired, machinery to fix. You should be with us—your family needs you. There's nothing for you here. This is just some silly pipe dream."

  Tom felt his blood start to boil. He’d thought he had taught his children some respect. He’d never expected to be getting a talking to from his son, especially about family loyalty. Hadn't he been loyal to his family all his life? This was his turn. He wasn't going to let his son tell him what to do.

  “You wanted the property and you've got it.” It took all Tom’s strength to keep his voice calm and even. "If you need staff, employ them, pay them. Don't expect a free ride. I sure as hell didn't get one.”

  Tom stepped off the verandah and walked towards the machinery shed, the loose panels that had come off in the storm tempting him. That was what he needed—some hard physical labour to burn off the adrenaline cursing through his body. How dare Brian talk to him like that. If he'd spoken like that to his father, he'd have been whipped.

  He found some nails and was soon hammering the corrugated iron back into place. The late afternoon sun had a bite to it and the air hung heavy with humidity, causing Tom to sweat through his shirt. He had used all the nails when he noticed a huge gash at the bottom of the panel.

  "Damn," he muttered aloud. The whole panel would need replacing, which would mean going to the hardware store and ordering it in and waiting before being able to fix it properly. Angry at the waste of time, he kicked the sheet with the toe of his boot. Then without thinking, he grabbed it at the edges to pull it off. But it was sharp against his hands and he felt the sting as it pierced his skin. He pulled his hand back, blood oozing from the wound. “Bloody hell.”

  He looked again at the sheet of rusty iron. Damn, he’d need a tetanus booster and probably stitches in his hand. Just what he needed. He turned back to the house, blood dripping to the ground and marking his path.

  Inside the house, Brian was at the kitchen table typing away on his laptop. He looked up as his father put his hand under running water in the kitchen sink, washing the blood away.

  “Are you okay? What happened?" Concern edged his son’s voice.

  “Cut myself on some iron," he grumbled. But he was starting to feel lightheaded—that couldn't be good.

  Brian was soon by his side with a clean towel in his hand. “Let me see.”

  Tom presented his hand and after a quick inspection, Brian wrapped the towel around it.

  “It needs stitches,” he said firmly.

  Tom nodded, still angry, but now more so with himself than his son.

  The noise of a car door slamming had them both turning and Harriet walked up the steps, her hands heavy with a tray of dishes and plates of food.

  “Hello,” she called as she approached the screen door.

  Tom strode towards her and let her in. “Harriet, what are you doing here?” He hadn’t expected to see her again today. Brian arriving had put their plans into a tailspin.

  “I thought you two might get hungry.” She smiled at Brian. “And since the electricity is still out, I figured I’d bring this over." She put the tray on the kitchen table.

  “Brian, this is my neighbour and friend Harriet.”

  Brian accepted Harriet’s handshake but looked at her sceptically.

  “It’s nice to meet you. Tom’s told me lots about you and the property in Hughenden.”

  She turned back to Tom and finally spotted the makeshift bandage on his hand. She went to him, taking his hand in hers. “Oh, my gosh, what happened?”

  “Stupid really,” Tom started. “I was fixing that sheet of iron that came loose and I cut myself on it.”

  “How bad is it?” She started unwrapping the towel.

  Brian stepped towards them. "He’ll need stitches. I was just about to take him to hospital.”

  The two men exchanged a look and Tom wondered if Harriet could feel the tension zapping between them.

  Harriet's hand was soft on Tom's arm. "Do you want me to take you? It's no bother."

  He gazed at her lovely face then back at his son.

  "I reckon I'm in good hands here, Brian. You have a station to look after that you should get back to," he said, his unwavering words laden with meaning.

  Brian stepped forward. "But, Dad."

  Tom extended his good arm, fingers splayed, signalling him to stop. “I’ll come out after Christmas. We can talk about it then,” he replied firmly

&n
bsp; Harriet silently looked between the two men before coming to rest on him.

  His voice was softer when he spoke to her. “We should get going before I lose any more blood.”

  Brian grabbed his laptop from where he’d left it and stormed out to his waiting ute. By the time Harriet and Tom had locked the front door and made their way outside, Brian had started his vehicle and was speeding away from his father's property.

  "So that's your son?" Harriet said as she helped Tom into her Land Cruiser.

  “Yep. Cheerful bugger, isn’t he?” Tom forced a smile.

  "I'm sure whatever he says and does, it’s out of love."

  Tom settled himself in the car and waited for Harriet. She didn't know his family—wasn’t aware of what they’d been through. The separation, the hardships; they’d all taken their toll on the family.

  If Brian was doing this out of love, he sure had a funny way of showing it.

  “Do you want to come in?” Tom looked across the cab where Harriet sat at the wheel. She had stayed with him at the Julia Creek hospital while his hand had been cleaned and stitched up. But she had also been quiet, like there was something important on her mind. Would she tell him what it was now that they were back at his house?

  Harriet unbuckled her seat belt then turned to him. “Why was Brian really here?”

  Tom rubbed the back of his neck with his good hand. “He wanted me to go back with him to Hughenden.”

  “Why?”

  “He’s realised that running a station that size is harder than he thought and he wants me to work for him.” Tom placed his hand over Harriet’s. “But this is my place now. Everything I want is right here.”

  He unclipped his seat belt and reached for Harriet. Her lips were soft against his, hungry but restrained. She placed her hand against his chest and gently pushed him away.

  “You make me very happy, Tom, and I want you in my life, I do.” Her azure eyes glistened. “But you need to sort things out with your son. He’s asking you for help. Has he ever done that before?”

  Tom paused as the weight of her words hit him. “No.”

  “Well he’s asking you now—”

  “And what kind of a father would I be if I didn’t help him.” Tom turned and lay against the seat with a heavy sigh. “This is supposed to be my time. My fresh start.” He looked at her. “Our second chance.”

  Harriet reached across and stroked his cheek. “We will have our time. I’ll be right next door waiting for you. Just like I have been for all these years.”

  They kissed again, this time with more heat and passion. He savoured every taste, every sensation, like a thirsty man who didn’t know when his next drink would be.

  When they finally parted, he dropped a kiss on her cheek before resting his forehead against hers. “I’ll be as quick as I can,” he whispered, hoping it was true. If he returned to his old station, it might not be so easy to leave again.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Harriet waved when she spotted her son in the helicopter cockpit as it came in to land on the now not-so-dusty runway. Beside her, Hannah bounced on her toes, just as eager as her grandmother to greet their visitors.

  Riley powered down the Robinson R44 before giving Noah the okay to take off his headset and climb down. She followed right behind him.

  Harriet threw her arms around her youngest son and breathed in the familiar scent of his deodorant mixed with avgas. “How are you? I missed you.”

  He kissed her cheek. “I missed you too, and I’m good.”

  She let Noah go so he could hug and greet the rest of the McGuire family who were eagerly crowding around, waiting patiently.

  “Riley.” The women hugged. “How was Grant?” she asked, referring to Riley’s cousin in Longreach.

  “He’s doing great. Better than I would be in his condition,” Riley said. Grant had become a paraplegic after crashing his helicopter on a mustering job almost two years ago. Poor Riley had witnessed the event and saved his life. But she had been suffering PTSD ever since.

  Riley waved at the helicopter. “We’ll drop this back off there on our way to the Pilbara.”

  Beside them, Lachie tilted his hat. “How is business going?”

  “Busy busy. The new pilot is working out really well and taking great care of this machine. It’s kind of weird flying the bigger one again after my little R22.”

  “Lucky you brought the four-seater to the rodeo.” Harriet reminisced. “You were booked solid all day.”

  Riley smiled at the memory. The rodeo had been held earlier in the year to raise funds for Maddie Sears and her family after her husband had taken his own life.

  “I heard their old property has a new owner,” Noah said, re-joining the conversation. “Have you met them yet?”

  Lachie grinned his Cheshire cat grin. “Oh, yes. We’ve met him. Mum’s gotten to know him very well.”

  Abbie smacked her fiancé on the arm. “Don’t tease. We all adore Tom; he’s a lovely man.”

  “So he’s single?” Riley said, trying to hide a smile.

  “Not for long I don’t think,” Lachie said behind his hand.

  Harriet’s cheeks heated but she knew they were just being cheeky. If they weren’t jesting, she would be worried that they didn’t like Tom. But she knew Riley and Noah would like him just as much as the others did.

  “It’s hot out here. Should we get back to the house?” Harriet suggested.

  Hannah gripped her Uncle Noah’s hand tightly. “Can I ride with you?”

  He lifted the girl onto his hip. “Only if you tell me how your riding lessons are going. Has Uncle Darcy taught you how to cut a calf yet?”

  Harriet smiled.

  Her children were home for Christmas and it would be a true outback celebration.

  Harriet spent the rest of the day baking treats and desserts with Hannah while the adults decorated the living room with tinsel and twinkle lights. The Christmas tree took pride of place, reaching the ceiling and surrounded by brightly wrapped presents of all shaped and sizes.

  “That smells amazing,” Abbie said as she peeked over Harriet’s shoulder.

  She was busily stirring the caramel-flavoured fudge as it bubbled gently on the stove.

  “It’s not Christmas without fudge.” Harriet smiled. “I’ve made this every year since I was a little girl and my mother showed me how.”

  Abbie smiled. “You’re going to turn me into a sweet tooth.” The nurse was very health conscious and although she allowed Hannah the odd special treat, she rarely ate them herself.

  “How’s Hannah going with that icing?” Harriet glanced to the opposite bench where Hannah was hunched over in concentration.

  Abbie joined her daughter. “Wow. Those are some pretty interesting clothes your gingerbread people are wearing.”

  Hannah pointed to her colourful pieces of art. “This is Uncle Noah, and Riley, Gran, Dad, you, and Tom.”

  At the mention of Tom’s name, Harriet paused. “You made one Tom?”

  Hannah nodded. “The whole family is here. Mum, can you take a photo on your phone?”

  Abbie did as her daughter asked, snapping photos from different angles before helping Hannah clean up the mess she had made.

  Once the fudge was cooling and the dinner was simmering away, Harriet found the special present she had been keeping for tonight. She held the little package behind her back as she joined everyone on the verandah.

  “I can’t believe how quickly it’s greening up out there,” Noah said, his gaze on the rolling paddocks with their young shoots starting to sprout. Harriet’s flower beds were also thriving after the rain. New shoots were appearing and the grass under it was turning emerald.

  “I can’t wait to see it green,” Abbie murmured from her perched position on Lachie’s armrest.

  “This has been a tough year.” Harriet spoke loudly enough for everyone to hear her and waited as they all turned. “But that’s behind us now and we can all look forward to a new year
with new beginnings. This is our first Christmas together as a family. The first time we will have three generations under one roof.” She looked at each face, memorising their smiles and loving glances. “Hannah, as the first grandchild, I have something special for you—an early Christmas present.”

  Hannah scrambled from her seat and put out her hands for the gift. Harriet placed the box on her palm. “This is a very special heirloom. My grandmother made it herself.”

  Hannah peeled off the wrapping paper and lifted the cardboard lid to reveal the hand-stitched Christmas fairy. Hannah’s finger traced the delicate embroidery of its features. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “Your grandmother made it?”

  Harriet nodded. “Back when you made things yourself and couldn’t buy everything from the shops. She made this for the first Christmas she spent with her husband.” She looked at Meghan. “She was pregnant with my mother that Christmas.”

  Meghan smiled softly and absently rubbed her belly.

  Hannah lifted the ribbon on top of the fairy’s head. “Can I put it on the tree?”

  “That would be lovely.”

  Lachie rose from his seat. Were those tears in his eyes?

  “I’ll help you, Squirt.”

  Harriet stood aside as Lachie helped his daughter find the perfect position on the colourful, crowded tree.

  When they were finally satisfied, Hannah slipped the ribbon over a pine branch and stood back to admire it.

  “Perfect,” she said, before turning to Harriet and hugging her tightly. “Thank you, Gran.”

  “I love you, sweetheart.” Emotion swelled in her chest.

  “I love you too,” the little girl replied.

  The following morning, everyone woke with the dawn as country people were inclined to do. And, after completing the morning chores and feeding the animals, they all gathered around the Christmas tree to open the rest of the presents.

  Wrapping paper was torn and left in growing piles. Everyone had felt the need to give extra gifts to Hannah and Abbie to make up for the six years they had missed. Among her granddaughter’s presents, Harriet spotted Barbie dolls, a horse-shaped cushion, an art set, and a growing tower of picture books.