“It is. But not around here,” David reiterated. “And not without me giving the say so.”
“Ease up, Dad,” Jo said quietly but firmly, frowning at her father. “Cadie didn't know and there's no point in getting angry with her about it.”
“It's okay, Jo,” Cadie murmured.
“No, she's right. I'm sorry Cadie,” David said wearily. “I'm just pretty pissed off about this. Bloody sheep are worth too much, even in this weather, to go shooting them for no apparent reason. I want to know who did this, so I can kick his arse from here to Coober Pedy.” He took his hat off and ran his hand through his thick, graying hair in frustration.
“How far are we from the road?” Jo asked, her memories of the lay of the land still vague.
David pursed his lips and shrugged his shoulders. “Five miles maybe, as the crow flies. But there's no track. If anyone came from that direction they'd have to be pretty determined.”
Jo pushed herself up and dusted off her jeans.
“What's the alternative?” she asked. “Either someone came off the road to do it, or your neighbors got the urge to destroy your property.” She nodded in the direction of the northern fence, which separated the Madison land from their immediate neighbors. With a jolt she realized that farm belonged to Phil’s parents. Or, at least, it did. And knowing Phil’s parents like she did – or had done – that theory was out.
David looked up at his daughter, knowing her logic made sense.
“Alternatively, Hughie or Jack did it,” Jo continued.
“Not Hughie,” David said emphatically. “Boy doesn't have a malicious bone in his body. Last time we lost a lamb I found him in tears over it.”
Cadie and Jo exchanged a look, both knowing just what the other was thinking. We know exactly who is inclined to that kind of maliciousness, Cadie thought, seeing her partner's startling blue eyes narrow as she reached the same conclusion.
David stood up and looked at the two women, finding it easy to read their minds. “Why would Jack want to kill sheep?” he asked. “This was done a few days ago so it certainly can't be anything to do with that barney he had with you yesterday,” he said, nodding at Cadie.
Neither of them had an answer for that.
“I still think someone could have come off the road,” Jo said, not really wanting to believe that one of her father's employees would want to waste livestock. “Kids larking about maybe.”
Her father looked skeptical.
“Well, nothing we can do about it now, except bury it where it won't stink and keep our eyes open for anything else,” David said.
Cadie leaned on her shovel and wiped a filthy hand across her brow. Jo was filling in the last of the hole they'd dug for the dead sheep, but it had taken them close to two hours to get the task completed.
“It has to be over a hundred degrees,” the American said breathlessly. She couldn’t believe she could sweat so much.
“At least,” Jo grunted, heaving a last shovel-load of dirt onto the pile. “Make sure you drink plenty of water.”
Cadie put down her shovel and dug into the backpack, pulling out a large thermos of cold water.
“Pot, meet kettle,” she said, handing the thermos to Jo. “You first.”
Jo didn't argue. Her throat felt dry and rough from the ever-present dust and her shirt was plastered to her back with perspiration. She twisted off the lid of the thermos and drank deeply before handing it back to her partner.
“Your turn, Tonto.”
Cadie relished the feel of the cold liquid trickling down into her stomach. There was another thermos in the backpack and once she had drunk her fill from the first, she pulled it out. The blonde jammed her hat on her head before stepping out of the shade of the tree and walking towards Jo's father who was in the last stages of reassembling the bore head. As she approached she heard the rumble of the pump engine re-engaging. Water spurted out of the outlet pipe and splashed into the trough.
David pushed himself up off his haunches and rested his hands in the small of his back, arching stiffly. Cadie wordlessly handed him the full thermos.
“Thanks,” he said.
“You fixed it,” Cadie said, more to start a conversation than anything.
“Not much wrong with it in the end,” he said. “Does them good to get stripped back every now and then, though. Just so you can see what's what and what's going to need replacing soon.”
Cadie nodded, seeing the logic of that. They get out here so infrequently, it's better to be safe than sorry, she reasoned. She watched David draining the thermos with long, noisy gulps.
“I thought there'd be more animals here,” she said.
“Not with the dead'un around,” David explained. “That would've kept them away no matter how thirsty they were. Another good reason to clear the carcass right away.” He nodded in the general direction of the scrub away to the south of their position. “The sound of the pump will pull them back in soon.”
Almost before he had finished speaking there was movement from that direction and a handful of sheep pushed through into the clearing around the trough. Cadie grinned at David who shrugged his shoulders with a tiny quirk of his lips that could almost have been interpreted as a smile.
“Told you so,” he said. “In this weather, they're never too far away from water.”
More sheep came out of the scrub, ambling their way to the trough where they jostled for position. They were followed by a cow and calf.
David grunted in satisfaction. “Good,” he said. “Haven't seen that poddy in a couple of weeks. Was beginning to think we'd lost her.”
“Poddy?” Cadie asked. She thought she'd misheard him, David's propensity for barely moving his lips when he spoke added a touch of adventure to trying to interpret his brief utterances.
“The calf,” he explained. “We call 'em poddies out here.”
Cadie filed that one away in her in-built glossary of Australian terms. David walked over to the calf, crooning softly at it as he ran a hand over its withers, carefully inspecting. Cadie watched as she walked back to where Jo was loading the shovels back in to the ute.
“I didn't realize there were cattle on the station,” Cadie said. “I thought it was just sheep.”
“It pays to diversify when you can,” Jo said. “Dad's always run a small herd ... just 50 head or so. Not sure what he's got these days, though.”
“He seems to be opening up a little, sweetheart,” Cadie whispered as she leaned close. “It might be as good a time as any to have a real conversation with him.”
Blue eyes met green and Jo nodded slightly.
“Could be,” she murmured.
“Have you ever ridden one of these things?” Jo asked Cadie, indicating one of the ATVs. They’d eaten lunch as they’d waited for Hughie, and then Jack, to arrive in the clearing. Now they were helping the men load the equipment back into the ute.
“No,” Cadie replied, looking over the sturdy little vehicle’s controls. “But I’ve ridden a motorbike a couple of times. Is it much different from that?”
Jo shook her head. “Easier actually,” she replied. “These have got an automatic transmission, so there’s none of that fiddly gear changing to do.” She looked over at her father. David was talking with Hughie and Jack about some repairs that needed doing along the northern fence line which required more than one pair of hands. “Dad,” she called out. “Do you need Cadie and me to come with you?”
The older man shook his head. “Don’t think so,” he said. “You want to take the ATVs and head back home, love?” The endearment provoked a raised eyebrow from his daughter.
That’s a first, Jo thought. Somehow, as much as she wanted her father’s acceptance and affection, it kept surprising her when she caught glimpses of it.
“Yeah, that’s what I was thinking,” she said aloud.
“S’fine with me,” he replied. “You got a cell phone with you?”
Jo felt for the instrument clipped to her hip. “Ye
p,” she replied.
“Okay,” he said, closing the back of the ute and clipping it in place. “Call and let your mother know what we’re doing, eh?”
“No worries.”
“Um, Jo,” Cadie said uncertainly. “I’m not sure I can learn to handle this thing that quickly.”
Jo flashed her a broad grin that was full of confidence and love.
“Sure you can,” she disagreed happily. “Piece of cake. Hop on.”
Cadie smiled up at her lover, feeling Jo’s faith in her settle around her like a favorite old jacket. Impulsively, she reached up and cupped the taller woman’s cheek with a gentle palm.
“Have I told you lately that I adore you?” she said quietly.
“Mmmmmm, yes. But don’t let that stop you from telling me again,” Jo teased. She let Cadie’s hand draw her closer and then tenderly brushed her lips over the blonde’s. “We’re scandalizing the men,” she whispered, aware of three pairs of eyes burning into her back. It didn’t stop her from enjoying the feel of Cadie’s soft cheek against hers, though.
“Too bad,” Cadie murmured. “If they don’t like it they can kiss my a-… ” She was silenced by her lover’s mouth kissing her soundly. When they parted they were both grinning wildly. “You are so bad,” Cadie chuckled.
“Me?” Jo protested innocently. “You started it.”
Cadie let her eyes flick over to the three men who were hurriedly moving around the ute in a flurry of activity. For an instant she caught her father-in-law’s eye but his glance slid away almost immediately. Hmmmmm, she thought. Wish I knew what he was thinking.
“Did Dad just throw up on his boots?” Jo asked quietly, watching the frown crease the blonde’s brow. She preferred not to look back at her father, unwilling to see the disgust on her parent’s face, if that was indeed his reaction.
“No, love,” Cadie reassured her. “I’m not really sure what he’s thinking actually.” With a quick shake of her head she dismissed the thought from her head. She patted her lover’s hip and flashed her a quick smile. “Come on, skipper. Teach me how to use this thing.” She turned from Jo and threw a leg over the ATV’s saddle, lowering herself down on the wide, comfortable seat and settling her feet on the rests.
“Okay,” Jo said, moving to show Cadie the controls. “Throttle is just like a bike – twist the handgrip here.” She demonstrated. “Brakes, front and back, squeeze both hands. Take a tip from me; don’t hit the front ones too hard on their own.” She grinned, remembering a childhood accident that had sent her flying over the handlebars.
“There’s a story behind that smile, I’m thinking,” Cadie said.
Jo sniggered. “Oh yeah. I missed the roo with the bike, but found the tree with my head.”
Cadie winced. “Ouch. Is that how you got this?” She gently fingered the tiny scar at the corner of Jo’s left eyebrow.
“Uh… no, actually,” Jo muttered, her mood suddenly darkening at the memory of that particular hurt. A flick knife and soon-to-be-ex drug addict had done that, she remembered with a flinch.
Uh-oh, Cadie thought. One of these days I’m going to remember the life she’s led. “Come back, sweetheart,” she soothed, placing a calming hand on Jo’s belly. Blue eyes gone cold flicked to hers, and then warmed perceptibly. “I’m sorry,” Cadie said. “I didn’t mean to dredge that up.”
Jo smiled thinly. “Not your fault, love,” she replied. “I wish all my scars were just childhood accidents. It’s one of the consequences of the life I chose to live.”
“Stop it, Jo,” Cadie urged. “That life is gone now. It’s over.”
Jo looked down into green eyes that loved her totally, openly. Not for the first time, Jo felt the wonder of that warming her guts, like Cadie’s hand was warming the skin of her stomach through the thin cotton shirt she was wearing.
“I don’t deserve you,” she whispered.
Cadie looked up into a face full of vulnerability and honesty. “Bullshit,” she said bluntly. Then she broke into a crooked grin. “Now, come on. Show me how to start this thing and let’s get going.”
“Bossy little thing, aren’t ya?” Jo ruffled her companion’s hair, grateful both for Cadie’s faith and her willingness to leave Jo’s insecurities alone for the time being. I wonder if Mum would help me do something special for Cadie tonight, she pondered.
“And you love it,” Cadie said, gunning the ATV and taking off with a roar and a cloud of dust.
“Mum, is the Swinging Tree waterhole still running?” Jo asked Maggie later in the afternoon. She had just finished her shower and decided to enlist her mother’s help while Cadie was taking her turn.
Maggie looked up at her from the kitchen table where she had been working on the station’s books.
“I think so, love,” she replied. She tried to remember the last time she had been out to the waterhole, one of Jo’s favorite childhood haunts. “You remember what it was like,” she continued. “That’s always one of the last places to dry up. I’m sure there’s still some water in it.”
Jo hummed pensively. “I hope there’s still some flow through it,” she said. “Not much fun to swim in it if it’s gone stagnant.”
Maggie smiled at her daughter, who somehow looked younger with her wet fringe plastered against her forehead, and her bare feet slapping against the cool tile of the kitchen floor as she moved around, getting herself a drink.
“Only one way to find out, bloss,” she said practically. “Unless you want to give your father a call. But I don’t think he’s been out there in the last couple of weeks or so, anyway.” David and the two jackaroos hadn’t arrived home from their trip along the northern fence line yet, even though the afternoon was crawling towards sunset. Maggie watched Jo holding the fridge door open, studying the contents critically. “What have you got in mind, Josie?” There’s definitely something going on in that head, and I’m betting it’s got something to do with the full moon, and that pretty young blonde in the bathroom.
Jo gave up fridge inspection, closing the door and sitting down opposite her mother. Casually she lifted a long leg and draped it over the corner of the kitchen table, leaning back until the chair rocked on one leg. Maggie had to fight to contain the chuckle the very familiar posture provoked.
“It’s a full moon tonight,” Jo said.
Bingo, thought her mother smugly. “Yeeeeeeeessss,” she drawled.
“Whaaaaaaaat?” Jo answered with a drawl of her own.
“And, don’t tell me, you want to take Cadie out to the waterhole and have yourselves a romantic, moonlit picnic?” Maggie grinned at the look of undisguised surprise on her daughter’s face.
“I can’t be that predictable,” Jo complained. “And I know I didn’t make a habit of it when I was 17.”
Maggie just put on her most innocent face. “Let’s just say it’s genetic.” Jo thought about that for a few seconds before the realization dawned on her. She blushed furiously and her mother laughed out loud at her discomfort. “Relax, Josie. I swear, sometimes your generation thinks it invented sex.” She pushed herself up and walked into the kitchen’s large, well-stocked pantry. “Now then, let’s see what we can come up with for your picnic.”
Chapter Seven
The horses picked their way through the trees and bushes as the sun dropped low towards the shimmering horizon. The moon, full and silver, was already up, beginning its climb as Jo and Cadie let the horses find their own way towards the waterhole. Jo and the palomino mare, Tilly, had enjoyed a happy reunion at the stables, though there was an element of wistfulness to the tall woman’s mood. Cadie could have sworn the gentle old mare had a twinkle in her caramel eyes as Jo had crooned softly to the horse, forehead to forehead with her four-legged friend. In the end, on Maggie’s advice, they’d left Tilly to pick at her fresh basket of hay and saddled the two younger horses. The colts had proven to be placid and sure-footed; a relief to Cadie who didn’t like to think about how many years it had been since she’d tested her abilit
y to stay in the saddle.
Now they were picking their way along a barely-visible track that wound through scrubby trees and low brush. The light was eerie, the golden sunset and pastel hues gradually giving way to the silvery glow of moonlight. The two women hadn’t spoken much since they’d saddled the horses and set off, content just to absorb the peaceful surroundings along the way. Both had backpacks on filled with a picnic dinner Maggie had somehow magicked from nowhere. There were also a cold bottle of wine and two glasses buried in Jo’s pack.
Cadie watched her lover as Jo’s horse took her slightly in the lead. The blonde was fascinated by her partner’s ability to adapt to whichever environment she found herself in, seamlessly blending in.
Just a few weeks ago I was thinking that I had never seen anyone more at home on the ocean than she looked onboard Seawolf, Cadie thought. And now look at her. She watched Jo’s easy posture in the saddle and the happy smile just touching the corners of her mouth. You’d never know she hadn’t been here for the past 15 years.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Jo said, curious about the expression on her partner’s face, an interesting mixture of query and delight.
Cadie laughed gently. “I was thinking about that day out on Seawolf, during Hamilton Island Race Week, when you were standing on the edge of the cockpit, looking like Captain Ahab,” she said with a grin.
Jo’s eyebrow almost disappeared up into her hairline.
“What made you think of that?” she asked.
Cadie shrugged. “Looking at you then I couldn’t imagine you anywhere else but out on the ocean,” she replied.
Jo kneed the colt gently, sidestepping him around until they were facing Cadie and her mount, even as they kept moving along the track.
“And now?”
Cadie grinned.
“And now, I can’t imagine you anywhere but on a horse in the middle of the outback. How do you do that?”
No Ocean Deep Page 20
