Home On the Station/Noah & Kate/Daniel & Lily/Luke & Erin

by Barbara Hannay

  Kate’s one wish was that she could see more of this droving. It wasn’t that she didn’t enjoy Liv’s company—the little girl was lively and imaginative. She was a normal kid, with occasional moments of petulance, but she was surprisingly well-behaved considering she’d recently been through her parents’ divorce.

  But, although Kate knew she’d been given an important role in looking after the truck, the horse float and the running of the stock-camp, she would have loved to be out with the men on horseback, driving the huge great mass of cattle beneath a brilliant blue sky.

  And, of course, she would have loved more chances to watch Noah at work. He did everything so well. When a beast made a break from the mob, he was on the spot to shoulder it back in to where it belonged. And when he was on horseback he looked completely different and happy. He smiled a lot, his white teeth flashing in his suntanned face.

  It bothered her that he couldn’t look like that all the time.

  Just before twilight, a few evenings later, she was leaning on a fence railing with Steve, watching Liv and Noah taking two horses for a canter.

  ‘Can you ride a horse?’ Steve asked.

  ‘I rode when I was out here nine years ago,’ she told him. ‘And I’ve been riding in England once or twice, but nothing very adventurous.’ She rested her chin on her folded hands and watched Noah’s happy grin as he cheered Liv on.

  Then Liv urged her horse into a gallop. ‘Look at that! She’s so little, but she looks unafraid and at home on that great big horse.’

  ‘Why don’t you have a go?’

  Kate turned and stared at him. ‘At riding a horse?’

  He laughed. ‘Unless you’d rather ride a bull?’

  She sent him a smiling eye-roll. She was getting used to Steve’s teasing, and rather enjoyed it. His friendly jibes were a welcome counterbalance to Noah’s remote formality.

  She glanced back to the horses tethered in a shady grove of eucalypts, their dark flanks gleaming in the dappled light like watered silk. ‘I haven’t ridden for ages. I’d need a very gentle horse.’

  ‘You could take Missy. She’s quiet.’

  Her gaze shifted to Noah who was at the far end of the paddock, supervising Liv.

  ‘Noah won’t mind,’ Steve said, watching Kate closely.

  ‘I guess you should know.’

  ‘You’re not scared of him, are you?’

  ‘Of Noah?’ Kate forced a laugh that, even to her ears, sounded far too brittle. ‘Why would I be scared of Noah?’

  Steve shrugged. ‘Beats me.’ He tipped his akubra further back on his head and fixed her with his very striking, cornflower-blue gaze. ‘Just for the record, Kate, Noah Carmody is the straightest, the most fair-dinkum, all-round good guy I know. He’s the best in the district.’

  ‘Your hero, in other words?’

  After a beat, Steve said with surprising solemnity, ‘I reckon he must be.’

  Kate nodded. ‘That’s nice. And, just for the record, Steve, I am not scared of him.’ She smiled sweetly. ‘So, why don’t you help me to get on this horse?’

  He grinned. ‘Come and we’ll saddle her.’

  Everything was fine until Kate was about to mount Missy. Just at that moment, Noah appeared, leading Liv on her horse.

  ‘What’s happening?’ he asked tersely, looking first at Kate and then Steve.

  Instantly defensive, Kate lifted her chin. ‘I’m taking Missy for a ride.’

  His frown deepened.

  ‘I know how to ride, Noah. Don’t you remember? Uncle Angus taught me.’ She turned her back to him and prepared to mount. Oh, help. Suddenly Missy’s back looked more than seven feet off the ground. How would she ever get her leg up and over there?

  ‘Here you go,’ said Steve encouragingly, and he threw the reins over Missy’s back and held the stirrup for Kate.

  If only Noah wasn’t watching.

  Kate put her foot in the stirrup and thought: Liv makes this look easy. Surely I can do it?

  ‘OK,’ said Steve calmly. ‘Get a grip on the wither. Push up and swing your leg over. Nice and steady does it. Now…up!’

  Kate tried. She really tried, but she got her leg half the distance when she completely lost her nerve.

  ‘I can’t,’ she whispered to Steve, and she sent a hasty glance over her shoulder to Noah, who was watching her with a darkly narrowed gaze.

  She couldn’t let him get the better of her. She had to do this. She imagined how fabulous it would be to ride out on the plain, following the mob like the men.

  ‘Come on, Kate,’ Liv called from behind her. ‘It’s easy.’

  This was her last chance. If she didn’t make it this time, she would never get up there. She would be confined to driving the truck for ever.

  Once more, Kate pressed her left foot into the stirrup and pushed off with her right foot. She went up in the air and her right leg swung over Missy and, before she knew it, she was in the saddle.

  Slightly dazed, she looked down at Steve as he handed her the reins. He was grinning up at her. She glanced across to Liv, who was grinning, too, and to Noah who was not grinning.

  But there was a hint of a smile in his eyes.

  ‘OK, she’s all yours.’

  She gave Missy the gentlest squeeze with her legs and suddenly the horse was moving forward down the cleared stockroute. Kate felt a fleeting moment’s fear, but then her uncle’s instructions came flooding back: keep your heels down, lass. Back straight. Posture is very important.

  Her nerves settled and she looked up at the sky, at the bush tinted with coppery gold by the late-afternoon sun. Everything looked exciting and different from the back of a horse.

  More confident now, she squeezed Missy’s flanks again, and suddenly they were cantering. At first, she thought she was going to be bumped straight out of the saddle, but then she remembered to lift her bottom slightly and the bumping eased. Now, with the wind in her hair and the thudding hooves beneath her, she felt, at last, like a proper Outback woman.

  Perhaps now Noah would show more interest.

  That evening, as they polished off Kate’s freshly baked dessert of damper and strawberry jam, Liv asked, ‘What day is it today?’

  ‘Tuesday?’ suggested Steve. ‘No, hang on. I think it’s Monday. Tomorrow’s Tuesday.’

  Kate and Noah nodded their agreement.

  ‘What’s the date?’ asked Liv.

  ‘November the ninth,’ Kate told her. ‘Why?’

  ‘It’s my birthday tomorrow.’ The little girl giggled. ‘Last year I was counting sleeps till my birthday for weeks ’n’ weeks. And this year I almost forgot.’

  Eyes shining, she snuggled up to Noah. ‘You wouldn’t forget, would you, Daddy?’

  Noah’s throat was working overtime. Kate watched a muscle jerk in his cheek.

  ‘How could I forget my little girl’s birthday?’ He sounded utterly convincing as he dropped a kiss on his daughter’s head and gave her shoulders a fatherly squeeze.

  But Kate saw the look of despair in his eyes.

  He stood. ‘If you’ve got a big day tomorrow, little girl, it’s time for bed.’

  For once there wasn’t a single protest. Liv bestowed happy kisses on Kate and Steve and slipped her hand inside her father’s. ‘’Night everyone. Only one sleep and I’ll be eight!’

  Crack!

  Noah’s axe split the gum-tree log neatly in two. He hefted the axe high again and brought it down, striking the timber with all his strength. The axe-head wedged in the wood and he wrestled it free, lifted it again, ready to strike and smash the log to pieces.

  ‘Noah?’

  Kate’s voice reached him in the split second before his axe came smashing down again. ‘Stand back!’ he roared.

  Crack!

  The log splintered.

  ‘For heaven’s sake, Noah, what are you doing?’

  He rounded on her. ‘What does it look like I’m doing?’

  ‘Chopping wood, of course. But why? We don’t
need firewood. Isn’t it dangerous in the dark? That torch doesn’t throw a very good light.’

  Enraged, he flung the axe down. ‘Is it really any of your business?’

  ‘I—I don’t suppose it is. Except…’ She hesitated, then said quickly, ‘You’re upset, aren’t you?’

  He wanted to yell at her. Of course he was upset! He’d completely forgotten his daughter’s birthday. He’d been so damned focused on his cattle he hadn’t given Liv’s birthday a thought.

  As if the poor kid hadn’t been through enough in the past year. And, now that she’d been abandoned by her mother, she looked up to him. Liv trusted him, and she needed him to be mother and father. He’d planned to be the perfect father she needed.

  Already, he’d let her down.

  It was bad enough that he knew that, without having to discuss it with Kate.

  But there was little point in denying that he was upset. ‘I—I guess I was taking some anger out on that log,’ he admitted. ‘Did I wake you?’

  ‘I hadn’t gone to bed.’

  She stepped closer and he could see that she was still dressed in her jeans and a navy-blue sweater. The dark clothing made her hands and her face look paler than ever. She was holding a small torch, and something that looked like a folded magazine.

  ‘Liv asleep?’ he asked.

  ‘Out like a light.’

  He sighed.

  Kate took another step closer, moving into the circle of his torchlight, and he saw the pale sheen on her soft complexion, the bright glow on her hair, the starry sparkle in her eyes. ‘I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, Noah, but I wondered if you have a gift for Liv’s birthday?’

  He stiffened, hugged his arms tightly across his chest. ‘What if I haven’t?’

  ‘I thought I might be able to help.’

  ‘How?’

  She held out a package wrapped in pages from a magazine.

  He stared at it, puzzled.

  ‘I know it doesn’t look like much, but I bought a few extra things for Liv to keep as surprises. They’re just little things. I imagined there might be some rough moments on the trip, so I had a few things tucked away in case she needed cheering up.’

  ‘That’s…’ He swallowed. ‘That’s incredibly thoughtful of you.’

  ‘There’s nothing really exciting, just bits and bobs from the Jindabilla general store—clothes for her doll and a little bracelet. A few comic books.’

  Noah gave a dazed shake of his head. ‘But that’s perfect. She’ll love them.’

  ‘Here, then.’ Kate pressed the package into his hands. ‘I’m afraid I can’t come up with pretty wrapping paper or sparkly ribbon.’

  He smiled. ‘I’m sure Liv won’t care. It’s just being remembered. This will make her day. It’s fantastic.’ He hesitated. ‘Except—’

  ‘Except what?’

  ‘It doesn’t feel right, pretending I bought these things.’

  ‘You’re her father, Noah. That’s the point. Liv’s not expecting a present from me.’

  ‘I guess.’ He let out his breath in a soft whoosh. He supposed parents got away with Santa Claus every year. This deception wasn’t so different. Still… ‘I should have remembered.’

  ‘You’ve had too much on your mind.’

  ‘That’s the lamest excuse in the book.’

  Kate shrugged. ‘It seems perfectly fair to me. Anyway, I’m sure you’re not the first father who’s needed a reminder about his child’s birthday.’

  He looked down at the package and saw that Kate had gone to the trouble of finding pictures in the magazine of little girls, of puppies and ducklings, flowers.

  ‘Thanks. Thanks so much, Kate.’ It sounded so inadequate. He smiled at her. ‘You’ve saved my bacon.’

  It had become a recurring theme—feeling grateful to Kate, recognising how much he owed her.

  As if she’d read his thoughts, she said, ‘I’ll remember you owe me.’ Her eyes shimmered extra brightly.

  Her loveliness caught him by the throat. He dragged in a shaky breath, and he might have reached out. He might have thrown caution to the winds and kissed her, but as quickly as she’d arrived she retreated, hurrying away, slipping back into the night. Like the memory of a beautiful dream.

  Kate dodged saplings, swiping at tears as she plunged through the darkness, following the dancing beam of her torch.

  She’d come so close to making a really, really embarrassing mistake just now. She’d almost thrown herself at Noah.

  Again!

  You owe me, Noah. How about a kiss?

  Genius! It would have been beyond embarrassing if she’d repeated the very same mistake she’d made when she was seventeen. Back then, Noah had kissed her out of pity. How much worse if he’d kissed her now as a favour?

  Her foot kicked a tree root and she almost stumbled. She stopped to catch her breath and, as she stood there panting, she assured herself that she’d done the right thing.

  Last time, her brazenness had sent Noah off to the back blocks until she was safely out of the country. This time he didn’t have the luxury of an escape plan. By running away just now, she’d saved them both from ongoing awkwardness that could taint the rest of the cattle drive.

  ‘I’ll have to hand it to you, Kate,’ Noah said next evening. ‘You pulled off a miracle.’

  ‘Hardly a miracle.’

  ‘Liv’s had a fabulous day.’

  They’d been lucky. They’d found the perfect site for a birthday tea—a pleasant campsite next to a billabong. Now, after her long and exciting day, Liv was snugly tucked in bed, cuddling her doll dressed in its new clothes.

  Steve had volunteered for washing-up duty, leaving Noah and Kate alone, sitting on a wide, smooth, red-gum log and admiring the path the moonlight made across the surface of the billabong.

  Kate said, ‘Liv’s a darling. So easily pleased.’

  ‘You have no idea how grateful I am, Kate. Not just for the gifts you conjured out of thin air. You went above and beyond the call of duty to make sure this day was special.’

  ‘I had fun,’ she protested. ‘It was only a matter of pancakes for breakfast and a chocolate cake tonight. It wasn’t a big deal.’

  ‘A chocolate cake with her name spelled out in jelly beans and birthday candles made from green wattle-twigs. Believe me, for a kid on a droving camp, that’s a huge deal. A stroke of genius.’

  ‘Yes, well…I have a perfectionist streak.’

  ‘Ah,’ said Noah, softly. ‘That explains a lot.’

  ‘Some people might say I’m an overachiever.’ In the moonlight she offered him a shy smile. ‘But it was worth it to see Liv so happy. She adores you, Noah.’

  ‘Amazing, isn’t it? I’ve done so little to deserve such high regard.’

  ‘Fathers are incredibly important, especially to little girls.’

  He turned to her, and smiled so warmly he stole her breath. ‘At a guess, I’d say you’re speaking from experience.’

  ‘I suppose I am. My father died when I was quite young, but I have very fond memories of him.’

  ‘Tell me about him.’

  Her mouth fell open. After their recent stilted, disjointed conversations this invitation to chat was a shock. ‘I only have very ordinary little memories.’

  ‘Tell me,’ he urged.

  ‘What would you like to know?’

  ‘Anything. Any memory. I can’t remember my parents.’

  ‘Not at all?’

  He shook his head. ‘I have a photo of them, and I have this feeling that I can remember it being taken. But that’s all.’

  Brimming with sympathy, Kate drew her feet up onto the edge of the log and hugged her knees. ‘I can remember waiting for my father to come home from work in the evenings. I used to stand at the front gate, with my knees pressed against the metal rungs, and I’d watch him walk from the station, briefcase in one hand, newspaper tucked under his arm.’

  She smiled. ‘He always waved the very instant he saw
me. That was the signal for me to push the gate open, and I’d squeal and run down the footpath to meet him. And he’d scoop me up high and say—’ She paused, suddenly shy.

  ‘What? What did he say?’

  ‘“How’s my princess?”’

  Noah chuckled.

  Encouraged, she went on. ‘My father nearly always brought me something, hidden in the depths of his coat pocket. I’d slip my hand inside and feel the silky lining and I’d find a small treat, just for me—a sweet wrapped in shiny paper, or a tiny packet of cards, or a newly sharpened pencil.’

  ‘He sounds terrific.’

  ‘He was. I adored him. The way Liv adores you.’

  Noah was silent. Kate watched his profile, so familiar to her. She knew every detail—the way his hair tried to curl around his temple, the shape of his ear, the slant of his mouth, the grainy texture of the skin on his jaw. She tried to imagine how he’d looked when he was very small. She said, ‘You must have all kinds of memories of Angus. I’d like to hear about him.’

  She half expected that he might refuse. Perhaps he’d conversed long enough for one evening.

  But he surprised her. ‘I think my favourite memory of Angus is one of my oldest memories. When I was four years old, and it was just after my parents’ accident.’

  He snapped a twig from the log, tossed it into the dark, moonlit water, and they both watched it float.

  ‘My parents had gone in a light plane to the coast. I think they were going to a wedding, actually. And I was staying with one of the ringers’ families. Angus came down to the little cottage. I don’t remember him telling us about the accident, but I guess he must have. And then he picked me up in his big, strong arms and carried me up to the big house.’

  In the moonlight, she saw Noah’s smile. ‘Funny, the things that stick with you,’ he said. ‘I remember the cold night air on my face, and the warmth of Angus’s flannelette shirt all around me. And I remember noticing that he didn’t smell of cigarettes. He took me into the kitchen. It was winter and there was a fire going, and there were three puppies in the corner. Just weeks old, curled asleep in a basket. Angus told me I could choose one. To have as my own.’