Fergus hadn’t been the only one who’d died that tragic summer night.
Kree set her near-empty teacup on the floorboards beside her. Perched on the verandah steps of the Tylers’ weatherboard farmhouse, she straightened her denim-clad legs so her bare feet could make the most of the sunshine.
She breathed in the floral scent of daphne in bloom and looked out over the bush view before her. Used to a backdrop of snow-capped mountains, it remained a novelty to be able to see until the landscape dropped below the blue horizon. Ewes and their white, newborn lambs idled beneath spreading gum trees and if she stared hard enough she could also make out the grey shapes of kangaroos. She’d already fallen in love with the odd-looking animals with their doe-eyes and long tails that bounced when they hopped.
Her eyes closed as she wiggled her warm toes. Seth had arrived safely at Sally’s and from their long, daily phone calls she knew the trauma of his ordeal had faded. His survival story had had its fifteen seconds of media fame and journalists no longer called. He’d met some other American gappies and was out more often than he was in. Now, all she needed was to stop thinking about Ewan and life would be back under control.
China suddenly shattered on stone.
Her eyes flew open. ‘Freckle? Fudge? What mischief are you causing now?’
Freckle’s only answer was to leap onto her lap and press puppy kisses to her face. Fudge stood close to her shoulder and bleated. Ears ringing, Kree gently pushed the red-heeler pup away so she could collect the mug that now lay strewn on the pavers.
‘Okay, I get the message, break time’s over.’
After only ever drinking ice-tea, enjoying a hot tea for a morning smoko was an Aussie habit she would be taking home to Colorado. That and eating the small sponge cake squares covered in chocolate and rolled in coconut called lamingtons. Fudge bleated again. Kree eyed off her shiny little nose that was wet from where she’d stuck it into the last of the lukewarm tea.
‘So, you’re the culprit, Fudgy.’
Fudge stamped her tiny foot.
‘What’s wrong? You can’t be hungry. You drank twice your body weight in milk for breakfast.’
Kree checked playful Freckle wasn’t within tripping distance and headed for the front door. She’d put the broken cup in the bin then see if any pink and grey galahs were visiting the claw-footed bath that served as a nearby paddock trough. So far this morning, no birds had come to drink, and she wanted to finish yesterday’s sketch.
As she opened the screen door, Fudge pushed past her legs and stormed down the hallway. Her smooth hooves slid on the polished floorboards.
‘I know you believe you’re more dog than goat, but you’re not allowed inside,’ Kree called after her. ‘As for you, Freckle, don’t you get any ideas –’
But Kree was too late. The pup wriggled between her feet and skittered after Fudge.
Kree propped the screen door open. ‘Right, you two, I’m coming in. You might think I’m a clueless human but I will outsmart you. You are going outside and in the meantime, don’t you dare piddle anywhere.’
She entered the kitchen and caught Fudge butting the potted fern Kree had recently watered, to get to the liquid in the saucer beneath.
‘Fudgy, are you thirsty? Is that why you tried to drink my tea?’
Kree exited via the back screen door and, sure enough, the stainless steel bowl the two animals drank from had been upended. ‘You guys,’ she reprimanded as the goat and pup skidded to a stop beside her.
She collected the bowl and went down the steps to the tap at her right. But as she drew near, she realised the rebellious drip that usually filled the large bowl positioned underneath had stopped. That bowl was also empty. She turned the heavy, steel tap and, as expected, no water gushed out.
A cow bellowed. Kree looked across the garden to the paddock where a cement trough stood. A cluster of cows hovered around its rectangular shape. Another cow bellowed. No wonder there weren’t any birds visiting the bath-trough this morning – there was no paddock water.
Kree filled Fudge and Freckle’s bowl from the kitchen tap. Thankfully, she still had inside water. She sat the full bowl on the back verandah, before heading to find the list of instructions Maureen had left. She scanned the page until she found the heading ‘water problems’. The words she didn’t want to see in Maureen’s neat handwriting were underlined. Call Ewan.
Just. Great.
She hadn’t recovered from Ewan’s phone call of two days ago. When she’d heard the deep timbre of his voice she’d forgotten to speak. And then, when he’d said he and Travis would like to accept her dinner offer, a strange sense of relief had flowed through her. A relief that soon dissipated when he asked if he could please bring an extra guest. The familiarity with which he’d said Tish’s name suggested the extra person was no random addition.
Even now, a hollow feeling of disappointment filled her stomach. Just because he didn’t wear a wedding ring, didn’t mean he wasn’t attached. After all, she knew farmers in Elk Falls who didn’t wear a ring for safety reasons when working around machinery. Everyone, Ewan included, deserved to be both understood and loved. And, if she was honest, she’d known that someone like Ewan had to be taken. His rare smile would have melted far more hearts than hers.
Kree sucked in a deep breath and dialled the number beside Ewan’s name. Two rings sounded before a cultured feminine voice answered, ‘Tish Mackenzie speaking.’
Kree’s heartbeat pounded in her ear.
Not girlfriend. Same last name. Not sister. Their accents were too dissimilar.
Wife.
Kree’s face heated. She’d spent the last week pining after a married man. That would teach her for being so out of control. How many lessons would it take for her to learn that to deal with life’s curve balls, she had to remain on task – taking care of Seth. No diversions. No distractions.
‘Hi, it’s Kree Garrett here,’ she managed. ‘I’m looking after the Tylers’ property next door and there’s a problem with the water. Maureen made a note to call Ewan if such a thing happened.’
‘No worries. You called at the perfect time. He’s heading past your front gate on the way to town.’ Kree could hear the smatter of muffled words as Tish put her hand over the phone receiver to relay Kree’s SOS. Tish’s polished, almost English-sounding voice again travelled down the landline. ‘He’ll be there in ten minutes.’ She paused. ‘I know you don’t know me but I just wanted to say how glad I was when Ewan told me your brother had been found.’
‘Thanks. He wouldn’t have been if it wasn’t for Ewan and the Glenalla community coming to his aid. We’re both so very grateful.’
‘There’s no place quite like Glenalla. It might be a small town, but it’s big on community spirit.’ Despite the unfamiliar accent, Kree had no trouble hearing the pride in Tish’s words. ‘Ewan said he’s leaving now, so he should be there soon.’
‘Great. I didn’t know cattle could be so noisy. I’ll go and open the front gate.’
True to Tish’s prediction, ten minutes later Ewan’s silver ute passed through the opened steel gate and stopped in front of her temporary home. As he settled his Akubra on his dark head before opening the driver’s side door, Kree gave herself a mental shake. Married.
But as Ewan stood beside his car, his handsome face shadowed by his hat, the world around her receded. The cattle bellows quietened, the whup whup of Freckle’s tail against her shin faded and the voice urging her to stay in control subsided to a whisper. The bond she’d believed they’d forged while searching for Seth might be one-sided, but Ewan Mackenzie, married Ewan Mackenzie, affected Kree like her fiancé never had.
‘Having water problems, Kree?’ Ewan said with a guarded smile as he approached.
‘Yes. Sorry to interrupt your day.’ She fell into step beside him as they headed towards the house. ‘Murphy’s Law meant that something had to go wrong. I’d gotten Freckle and Fudge into a routine and things were going so well.’
Kree touched a hand to Fudge’s head as the goat butted her knee, letting her know she felt left out. ‘Maybe the word “understanding” is more apt. The three of us have reached an understanding. I like my shoes to remain intact and they like to be pampered, fed and played with from dawn to dusk.’
Ewan’s low chuckle teased the fine hairs on her nape.
Off-limits. Remember.
‘Well, I’m glad to hear you’re getting something out of your understanding.’
‘I have to. I’m down to one pair of shoes.’
As they reached the verandah steps, Ewan placed Freckle on the path and he bolted over to the remains of her once favourite hiking boot. Fudge followed, leaping and frolicking, as though her legs were composed of tiny springs.
Ewan shook his head. ‘Good luck with saving your last pair of shoes.’
He swung around and set off towards the small yard gate that led into the paddock housing the water trough. Kree followed. The usual faded denim hugged Ewan’s lean hips but the cotton stretching across his wide shoulders was a finely woven pale blue instead of heavy navy drill. The boots he wore sported glossy, not scuffed, leather and when he turned to check she was still behind him, she realised the tanned line of his profile was clean-shaven.
Just out of his swag, his hair tousled and jaw stubbled, he was gorgeous, and now, dressed in his going to town clothes, he was plain out dangerous. Tish was a very lucky woman.
‘Okay,’ he said as they reached a large concrete tank and stopped in front of a metal contraption attached to a cream box. ‘This is the pump that draws water from the bore. And this,’ he pointed to what looked like a small spaceship sitting on top of the tank, ‘is the water indicator. When the tank is full, an internal float lifts the pole the indicator is attached to, and it rises above the tank. So when the indicator is flush with the tank, like now, there’s no water.’
Kree concentrated on the spherically shaped indicator and not on how good Ewan smelled. The woody notes of his aftershave made it impossible not to be aware of how close they stood. She only had to lift an arm and she’d touch the smooth plane of his cheek.
Ewan leaned forward, his long fingers turning a dial. Nothing happened.
‘Right, the pump doesn’t work on manual, so that means we need to take a look at the control board. Sometimes a power surge can trip a fuse.’
He manoeuvred open the cream cover on the box.
‘Usually any problems with this pump are pretty straightforward. It’s that antiquated pressure pump that supplies your inside water from the rainwater tanks that is the nightmare. If it plays up, you’ll be in all sorts of trouble.’ He dipped his head towards the small lever that lay in the opposite position to all the others. ‘See? It’s a fuse.’
He flipped the lever, pressed a button labelled reset and then turned the dial again. The bore pump surged to life and the sound of spilling water echoed inside the tank.
‘Now we’re cooking,’ he said as he closed the cream cover. ‘I’ll leave the pump on manual to fill the tank, but tonight, switch the dial back to here where it says automatic.’
As the full force of his slow grin curled her toes, Kree knew she didn’t need any house pressure-pump problems to already be neck-deep in trouble.
CHAPTER FIVE
Anytime you’re ready, look away.
Ewan ignored the sarcasm of his self-preservation and continued to observe Kree in the rear-view mirror. She stood on Berridale’s verandah, watching him leave, a hand shading her eyes. He didn’t divert his attention until she’d turned and headed inside.
The powerful thrum of his V8 engine carried him west to Glenalla on the bitumen road. Beside him, kurrajong trees, their canopies clipped to cattle-head height by hungry cows, marked the start of Old Harry’s property, Yuulong. Normally, Ewan would have stopped for a cuppa and a chat with his father’s eccentric mate, but he had an appointment to make.
The phone nestled in the car handset beside him blared into life with the chorus of ‘I’m sexy and I know it’. He groaned. Tish and her warped sense of humour. She was always telling him to lighten up and had taken to changing his ring tone. After their rural romeo conversation she must have hijacked his mobile. He pressed the green button after reading the familiar name on the phone display.
‘Hi, Trav.’
‘How’d you go at Berridale?’
‘Fine. The bore pump had blown a fuse.’
‘How was Kree?’
‘Good.’ Ewan changed the subject. Travis knew him too well not to sense the strain in his voice at the mention of the stunning American. His self-control had to appear as though it were holding firm. ‘You know what song Tish has used for my latest ring tone? “I’m sexy and I know it”.’
Travis’s laughter filled the ute cabin. ‘That’s going to go down really well with the new bank manager. What time’s your appointment? I’ll make sure I call.’
‘Very funny. As soon as I pull over, I’m changing it back to my normal boring ring. And don’t laugh too hard, Tish has threatened to sign us up to the Rural Hearts dating website.’
Travis’s laughter stopped. ‘She wouldn’t.’
‘Oh, yes, she would.’
‘Well, then, we’d better get you hooked up, quick smart.’ Ewan didn’t miss the underlying seriousness beneath Travis’s jovial words.
‘Trav, I don’t need hooking up, remember? I’m still recovering from my blind date with the blonde sales rep you thought would be my perfect match. She had us married and expecting twins by the end of dinner. What I do need is this city bloke at the bank to increase my overdraft.’
‘You still keen on investing in those Angus and Brangus crossed UltraBlack cattle?’
‘Yes, they’re the new black. If I could afford to tap into that market it would open all sorts of possibilities to keep Marellen soluble. Camo might have been all play and no work at uni, but some of his Sydney agricultural science degree must have stuck as he’s now running Savannah Downs and other family properties up north. He sees genetically superior UltraBlacks, with their increased heat resistance and fertility, as the way forward.’
‘You’re kidding. Camo has grown up?’
‘I’m sure he still likes his rum and coke but yes, he’s grown up. I guess he had to, after the chopper-mustering accident killed his father. Death has a way of sobering even the most hardened of party animals.’
Travis didn’t immediately answer and Ewan wished he’d taken more care with his words. He knew exactly what Travis would be thinking. It wasn’t only hardened party animals that death wielded an impact on.
Ewan spoke quickly. ‘Wish me luck. I’m not sure what this new bank guy is like. He sounded very official on the phone, so the days of having a simple yarn to Mike might be over.’
‘I can’t blame Mike for retiring. The stress of keeping everyone going through the drought would have taken its toll on anyone. Listen, I’ll be in town in an hour and will meet you at the Calf and Cow for a counter lunch. My shout.’
‘Thanks, I’ll either be celebrating or drowning my sorrows. But it’s my shout, you took care of the last lunch. I’m outside the bank now, so I’d better park and deal with my ring tone. Talk to you later.’
Ewan ended the call. The cold ball of uncertainty that had lodged in his stomach as he’d talked about the new bank manager refused to shift. He didn’t hold any illusions as to his financial position, but he’d done extensive research and canvassed many options about the direction in which to take Marellen. One fact underpinned them all. He needed money.
Ewan dealt with his phone and quit the cool confines of the air-conditioned ute. Officially, it might be autumn but the strength of the hot sun ensured the temperature was more roasting than balmy. He stood outside the small bank o
ffice and glanced along the main street of Glenalla. Pete Grey was in town. His battered HiLux ute with his brown kelpie snoozing on the tray-back was parked outside the newsagent. Mrs Jessop’s pristine but dated white four-wheel drive claimed the space in front of the general store, but otherwise the wide street was empty. Sadness merged with his tension. His childhood town was dying.
The never-ending drought had siphoned off businesses until only a few remained. The coffee shop was the last to close. The Gilmores had had enough and moved to a larger regional centre two hours east. Now the pub on the corner remained the only place to grab anything to eat. Locals and a few tourists had once populated the footpaths, but the only movement today was a stray ginger cat who slunk past Pete Grey’s ute. The kelpie lifted his head but it was as though he were too tired and dispirited to care. The drought had robbed Glenalla of more than a reliable water supply. It had robbed the town of life. The rains had come but it was only when money again flowed that Glenalla would have a hope of surviving.
A long hour later, Ewan strode into the Calf and Cow, unbuttoning the top two buttons on his best shirt, which for the past hour had felt like a straightjacket. He’d survived the meeting with Clive, the ex-city bank manager. But only just.
Ewan’s eyes adjusted to the dim interior of the pub and he headed for the counter. He breathed in the familiar beer smell and finally gave himself permission to relax. There was no sign of Travis but he wouldn’t be far away. Punctuality was important to his quiet-talking best mate. Unlike Camo, he’d always made his uni lectures on time and had his assignments in before the due date. Ewan hadn’t ever had to go searching for Travis after a night out on the grog, unlike Camo, who’d often been missing-in-action only to be later found in the girls’ dorms, or asleep on their front lawn.
Down Outback Roads Page 4
