No Ocean Deep

by Cate Swannell

  "Skipper?" Maggie raised a surprised eyebrow at her daughter who blushed under the scrutiny.

  "S'just a nickname my crew members use when we're working," Jo explained shyly.

  Maggie shook her head wonderingly. "This is a lot to absorb, Josie. Last time I saw you, you were just a kid. And now you've got all this responsibility, your own business." She nodded her head in the direction Cadie had disappeared. "A partner."

  Jo grinned, happy to latch on to a subject she was comfortable discussing, even if her mother wasn't.

  "She's great isn't she?"

  Maggie took in the sparkle in Jo's eyes and the undisguised happiness in her smile.

  "She's lovely," she agreed readily. Hesitantly she reached up and cupped the beautiful, and familiar, face in her hands. "I feel like I've missed so much of your life, Josie."

  Jo nodded. Maggie’s hands dropped away and Jo’s gaze dropped with them. She suddenly found the fading pattern in the worn rug fascinating. "You have, Mum. And that's my fault. I did the wrong thing by you and Dad leaving the way I did and I wouldn’t blame either of you if couldn’t forgive me for that."

  She was silenced by warm fingers on her lips.

  "Now you just cut that out, young lady," her mother said sternly. "You were just a baby. And this is a hard life for kids out here. You got impatient and wanted to get on with your life. We always understood that."

  Jo looked at her incredulously.

  "You can't honestly believe that what I did was acceptable, Mum," she exclaimed.

  "I never said we thought you did the right thing," Maggie corrected. "But we always understood why you did what you did."

  Jo still looked skeptical.

  "I hurt you both."

  Maggie nodded slowly, wondering just how far she should push. "Yes you did. You scared us and hurt us and angered us." She bit her lip as she watched Jo wince. Don't stop now, Maggie, she thought. This is a chance to start over with her. Clear the air. "But if you think that means we don't forgive you, then you need to think again."

  Jo blinked, not quite comprehending what she was hearing. In her wildest dreams she couldn’t have imagined her mother would be calmly sitting next to her, forgiving her within an hour of seeing her again. She felt tears sting her eyes once more and tried to squelch them.

  Maggie smiled at her dumbstruck offspring.

  "Is that so hard to believe, bloss?" she asked, brushing an errant tear from Jo's cheek with the pad of her thumb.

  Jo struggled to speak around the lump in her throat. She nodded instead, swallowing down more tears.

  "Josie, you're my daughter. I can forgive you anything."

  God, I wish that were really true, Jo thought, closing her eyes against the urge to tell her mother every terrible crime she'd ever committed. She felt fingertips brush against her cheek. For now, it's enough - a blessing - that she forgives my leaving. She opened her eyes to find Maggie calmly waiting. I am so lucky.

  “Does Dad feel the same way?” she asked, searching her mother’s face for any clues about her father.

  Maggie sighed. “That’s a very complicated question to answer, love.” Regret swept across Jo’s face and she hastily put her arm around her daughter’s shoulders, pulling her close. “No, no, I don’t mean he doesn’t forgive you. Of course he does. He adores you, Josie. He always has, always will.”

  Jo breathed in the memory-laden scent of her mother’s clothes and soap. Still the same stuff she used to use. Lavender. She felt a sudden childish urge to bury herself in Maggie’s embrace. The older woman sensed the hesitation and made the decision for her, wrapping her up in an all-encompassing hug, her cheek resting on the top of the dark head. Why did I ever want to leave this? “You have to understand that everything your father is – everything he values – is wrapped up in this place,” Maggie continued. “Of course he hoped you would want to take over running the property when he retired, but he also knew there was every chance you wouldn’t want to. And he knew that before you left.”

  Jo listened quietly, the rumble of her mother’s rich alto vibrating against her cheek. She could also feel Maggie’s heartbeat, slow and steady, calming.

  “When you left, and Dad had his heart attack, we nearly lost this place.” Maggie felt Jo hold her breath and knew her words were hurting. Get it out there, Maggie. “Your father had a lot of anger, but it wasn’t all about you, Josie. It was a lot of things – frustration with the banks, wool prices, the weather … all of it. But it all got focused on you because you were the one thing Dad felt he could have some influence over. But you proved him wrong on that when you left the way you did.”

  “God, I am so sorry,” Jo whispered hoarsely.

  “Shhhhhh. We all made mistakes, love. Your father blamed himself a lot and probably I blamed myself. But there were some positives to come out of it, especially once we’d heard from you and knew you were okay.”

  “Positives?”

  Maggie turned her head and kissed the top of her daughter’s head. “Oh yes. For a start your father learned to delegate some of the work around here. That’s something I’d been nagging him about for years. More importantly, it made him realize that there might be a life beyond this station.”

  Jo lifted her head and looked at her mother.

  “Beyond … you mean?”

  Maggie nodded. “I mean we’re not getting any younger Josie. And this place isn’t getting any easier, or, god knows, any more profitable to run. Your father was born here, was brought up to believe this farm was everything. When you left, he found out there are more important things than working day in, day out for not much reward.” She smiled wearily. “Believe it or not, that’s probably going to be a good thing in the long run.”

  Jo pulled away and flopped backwards down onto the bed. She couldn’t help smiling as she found herself gazing up at the fluorescent stars and planets stickers she'd attached to the ceiling sometime in her dim, dark, past. And now for the 64 million dollar question.

  "And how does he feel about me being gay, Mum?" she asked quietly.

  Maggie sighed. I wish I knew. From the time I told him to this moment, he hasn’t said one word about it.

  "Well, you know your father, Josie. He doesn't exactly talk a lot about what he's thinking or feeling. And it's only been a week." She didn’t know what else to say, so instead she just rested a hand on her daughter's thigh, listening to the wheels in Jo's brain spinning.

  "In other words he's not too keen on the concept and doesn’t know how to say so without getting pissed off about it," Jo theorized. Suddenly there was a hard ball of apprehension in the pit of her stomach.

  "I'm not going to lie to you, bloss," Maggie replied. "I don't know how he's going to react. You're both probably going to have to be very patient with him. He's an old-fashioned man."

  Jo snorted, memories of beating her teenage head against her father's intractability suddenly very fresh in her mind.

  "Where is he?"

  "The north-west back paddock, fixing a bore pump," Maggie replied.

  Jo pushed herself up and grinned rakishly at her mother.

  "Did it really need fixing?"

  Maggie just laughed and patted Jo's knee.

  "It's good to have you home, kiddo."

  Cadie scooped her Akubra off the kitchen table and jammed it on her head as she stepped out of the homestead's back door. The heat hit her full on as she walked into the sunlight. To her left was a large water tank nestled against the wall, its sides covered in ivy. Cadie walked around the tank and out the gate in the white fence that surrounded the garden. The contrast was immediate as her booted feet scuffed through the orange dust that covered the hard-packed earth.

  The blonde stood for a moment, circling in one spot as she sized up her options. To the west of the homestead lay a couple of worker's cottages, and beyond them again, other buildings that included a stable and a wire pen which looked to be currently uninhabited. Cadie decided the lure of saying hello to some an
imals had the most appeal.

  She tried not to be too anxious about the conversation going on in the house. Somehow I don't think Maggie is going to be biggest problem, she mused as her footsteps took her along the well-worn path past the cottages. I wonder when Mr. Madison will be home.

  The stables were dilapidated, but serviceable, and Cadie guessed that buildings had to be close to collapse before any precious resources were spent fixing them. As she approached, three horses meandered towards her from different parts of the stable corral. Two were chestnuts and one, the mare, a palomino. Cadie climbed up onto the top rail of the metal fence and swung her legs over. She settled herself onto the rail as the two chestnuts approached. Both wuffled against her legs, the young colt reaching higher to nudge against the blonde’s shoulder.

  “Hello there,” she said softly, rubbing the back of her hand against the soft sensitive end of the colt’s nose. “Aren’t you a handsome boy?” The other chestnut, an older male, picked at her shoelaces. “Yes, hello, so are you.” Cadie chuckled as the pair vied for her attention, while the mare – she guessed the pale golden beauty was mother to the two boys – hung back cautiously. The horses looked well-fed and cared for despite the hard times Cadie knew the Madisons were living through. Somehow that made her feel less anxious about Jo’s father. He treats animals well, that has to be a good thing, she thought.

  “I’m sorry, guys, I didn’t think to bring you any treats,” she said as the two young horses nudged and nuzzled her in a quest for food. “Tomorrow, I promise.” Cadie reached out and stroked both animals between the eyes. Reluctantly, the pair moved away and Cadie found herself eye-to-eye with the gorgeous palomino.

  “Hello, beautiful,” she murmured. The mare whickered softly and cautiously walked forward until she was within arm’s reach of the blonde. Cadie resisted the urge to touch, though, preferring to let the mare get comfortable with her first. Large, caramel eyes blinked at her, sizing her up. “Are you going to say hello?” Cadie kept her voice low and gentle.

  The mare snuffled tentatively against her thigh, then, seemingly satisfied, moved one step closer and gently head butted Cadie’s shoulder.

  “Well, hello to you too, madam,” she answered, offering an upturned palm for the horse to mouth. Cadie grinned, loving the smell and feel of the large animal. “I wonder if you were around when Jo-Jo was a kid.” The mare was definitely old enough, she thought, taking in the mature lines and experienced twinkle in the brown eyes. “Bet you could tell me a story or two.”

  The mare huffed against her shirt in response and Cadie laughed gently.

  “Yeah, I’m sure.” She rested her cheek against the big horse’s muzzle, breathing in the unmistakable horse smells. The mare tolerated her touch patiently and Cadie closed her eyes for a few moments. It’s been a long day. And still a way to go.

  Cadie spent a solid half-hour visiting with the horses. She had jumped down into the corral and walked towards the stable, her new-found friends meandering after her hopefully. The interior of the building was clean, if a little rough and each stall had fresh feed and water, confirming her previous feeling that the animals had high priority.

  She had found a curry-comb hanging on a nail and pulled it down, immediately attracting the mare who whickered softly and tossed her head.

  “Oh ho, are you trying to tell me something, madam?” she laughed as the horse nudged at her, lipping the comb in her hand. “Okay, okay, I can take a hint.”

  Slowly Cadie began working the comb over the pale, smooth coat, the action bringing back a lot of memories. Her childhood had been filled with days spent doing just exactly this. The private boarding school in which she had spent her teenage years had a stable of five horses and Cadie had spent many a happy hour in equine company. She hadn’t ridden in a long time but the prospect of going out with Jo some time in the next few days was definitely something to be relished.

  “How does that feel, hmmmmm?” she murmured as the mare stood quietly for her. She worked her way down the tall, strong back, following the lines of muscle and sinew. When Cadie was done she patted the mare’s neck gently and got a friendly snuffle in return. “Better?” The horse nodded. “Yeah, I thought so.”

  Cadie walked back outside, the mare happily following. Soon the two geldings fell into step behind their mother as Cadie wandered down the middle of the dusty corral.

  “What do you think guys?” she asked, turning and stopping in front of the horses. “Think I’ve given Jo-Jo enough time to thrash things out with her mom?” The four-footed trio was predictably silent on the matter and Cadie looked around pensively, lost in her own thoughts. She tucked her hands into her back pockets and stood casually in the red dust. She was anxious about Jo, she was aware. “Got to let them do the talking though,” she muttered to herself. With a quick shake of her head she made her decision, heading for the metal fence and clambering back up and over. She glanced back at the horses and gave them a grin. “Don’t worry, I’ll be back,” she called out. “And I’ll bring treats next time, I promise.”

  Cadie walked towards the workers cottages, past a small stand of tall, gnarled gum trees that provided a meager amount of shade. For the first time she noticed a dog curled up in the cool gloom at the base of the largest tree. Curious, and always a sucker for an animal, Cadie turned her footsteps towards the dog. She was brought up short when the blue kelpie uncurled himself in a flash and came charging out at her, barking loudly and teeth bared.

  “Whooooooaaaaaa!” yelped Cadie. She knew enough not to run, but found herself backpedaling anyway in the face of the small bundle of ferocity. The dog barreled to a halt, front legs stiff, hackles raised. He growled loudly enough for a dog twice his size and Cadie held her hands out in front of her, palms up.

  It didn’t do much to soothe the beast, however, and Cadie was beginning to wonder how she was going to retreat without suffering a savaging.

  “That’s a workin’ dog, girlie, not for pettin’,” came a gravelly voice from behind her right shoulder. Cadie glanced that way quickly, not wanting to lose eye contact with the angry dog for too long. A wiry, bowlegged man sauntered towards her from the cottage, wiping his hands on an oily rag, which he proceeded to tuck into the back pocket of his soiled jeans.

  Is this David Madison? Cadie wondered, not seeing any resemblance to Jo in the hard-bitten man coming her way.

  “Do you think you could call him off?” Cadie asked. The dog hadn’t moved from his aggressive stance and every time Cadie tried to move one way or the other, he shifted to block her path.

  “He’s just a big coward, nothin’ to worry about,” the man said bluntly. “Just give ’im a kick and he’ll bugger off.”

  Cadie shook her head, hoping like hell this abrupt man wasn’t her father-in-law.

  “I’d rather not, actually,” she muttered, disconcerted by the dog’s behavior. Usually she had the best of relationships with animals but she’d never encountered a dog as tense as this one. But that doesn’t mean I’m going to kick him just to get my way.

  “Tch, what’s the matter with you, girl?” the man muttered. He stepped between Cadie and the dog and swung out viciously with a booted foot before she could protest. The point of his toe caught the dog on the shoulder and the canine crumpled into a yelping heap. “G’on, get out of here, ya bastard!” the man shouted. He pulled his leg back for another swing at the whimpering, cowering dog, but he hadn’t counted on a certain feisty blonde.

  “You asshole!” Cadie yelled as she grabbed the man’s drawn-back foot and twisted hard. She caught him with all his momentum moving forward and the maneuver flipped him over into the dirt where he sprawled awkwardly.

  “What the bloody hell do you think you’re doing, woman?”

  Jo and her mother emerged arm in arm from her bedroom and headed back to the kitchen.

  “Want to help me get dinner on?” Maggie asked, smiling at her daughter.

  “Sure,” Jo replied amiably. “What do you need me
to do?”

  Her mother unhooked her arm from Jo’s elbow and headed for one of the drawers set into the counter near the sink. She opened it and pulled out a potato peeler. With a grin she tossed it at Jo.

  “Spuds,” she said.

  Jo caught the peeler and laughed. “Some things never change,” she said. “You keeping them in the same place as usual?”

  “Bottom of the pantry, yes,” Maggie confirmed.

  “How many for dinner?”

  “Six,” she replied. “We four, plus Jack and Hughie.”

  Jo straightened from where she had bent down to pull the potatoes out from the sack under the bottom shelf of the pantry.

  “Hughie?” She cast her mind back, trying to figure out why that name sounded so familiar. “You don’t mean that little aboriginal kid who used to come out on the weekends with his dad?”

  Maggie chuckled. “That little kid is 23 now, Josie,” she said as she pulled out pots and pans from one of the cupboards. “You remember his mum died when he was just a baby?” Jo nodded. “Well, his father finally drank himself to death when Hughie was about 15. Your dad ran into Hughie in town one day and the kid looked half-starved. He’s worked out here with us ever since.”

  “Wow,” Jo murmured. She bent down again and scooped more potatoes out. “My brain is spinning out a bit,” she admitted. “Everything seems the same – I mean look.” She pointed at a large, gaily colored metal tin, sitting on the pantry shelf. “You’re still using the same tin I used to raid for biscuits when I was a kid.” She ran her fingers over the horses and dogs that covered the cool surface, then pried the lid off. Jo laughed when she saw the contents. Tim Tams. She still keeps the Tim Tams in here. She fished out one of the chocolate covered treats.

  “Same biscuits,” her mother laughed from across the room as she watched Jo happily crunching.

  “Mmmmmm. That’s what I’m talking about,” she said around a sweet mouthful. “So much has happened to all of us. But it looks like nothing has changed.” She used her shirt to carry the potatoes over to the sink and tipped them out onto the draining board.