Bella's Run

by Margareta Osborn

  ‘Oh, a living!’ said Macca, throwing Sarah a wink. ‘I’m a diesel-fitter, mate.’

  Warren looked confused. ‘A diesel fitter . . . And where exactly do you work?’

  ‘In a ladies-underwear factory,’ said Macca, with a poker face.

  ‘There’s a ladies-underwear factory in Mount Isa?’ asked Warren in surprise.

  ‘Yeah,’ said Macca as beside him Sarah started to shake. Macca then made a movement like he was pulling something down over his ears. ‘You know, “dees-’ll-fit- her!”’

  Sarah exploded with laughter. ‘Aw, Macca . . . you’re just a pisser!’

  ‘Yeah,’ quipped Bella dryly, ‘he’s not real smart, but he can lift heavy things.’

  Warren’s face went pink. He spun and walked off, muttering something about getting his luggage.

  ‘Well, that might get rid of him anyway,’ said Macca.

  Bella slid from the tray and hit her cousin over the head. ‘That wasn’t very nice!’

  ‘You’re not gunna marry that bloody tosser, are you, Hells Bells? What a flamin’ drongo.’ He mimicked Warren’s voice, ‘And what do you do to earn a buck . . . !’

  Bella whacked Macca again before she stormed off.

  ‘Good on you, Macca, you idiot,’ said Shelley as she made to follow.

  Will grabbed her arm. ‘I’ll go, Shelley.’ He strode after Bella, who was disappearing down the rise to Turbo’s kennel.

  ‘He didn’t mean it, you know,’ Will said to the figure crying into the dog’s ruffled, wiry black mane.

  ‘Who didn’t? Macca or bloody Warren? I don’t even know why I’m crying; I’ll be glad to be rid of the arsehole.’

  ‘Which one’s the arsehole?’

  ‘Fuckin’ Warren, of course, for being so goddamned rude. Macca’s my cousin. He’s allowed to say those sorts of things.’

  With a mother, a sister and formerly a bitch of a wife, Will had long ago given up trying to understand the workings of the female mind. What he did know, though, was that a hug usually fixed things. Taking a big leap of faith, and not a little risk, he held out his muscled arms and beckoned to the girl on the ground.

  ‘Want a cuddle?’

  Bella looked up and saw that strong, rugged face creased with worry. The brown eyes were warm, soft.

  In a daze, she slowly got up and moved into the arms of the man who tugged more than a little bit at her heart and mind.

  After long, precious moments of soaking in the warmth and strength of his hug, she mumbled into his broad chest, ‘And I’m pregnant.’

  Pulling back, but still holding her within the safe circle of his arms, Will sought clarification. ‘You’re what?’

  ‘I’m pregnant, Will. It’s a bloody pisser, isn’t it? I’ve just got rid of the wanker and now this.’ She pulled herself upright, swiped a sleeve cuff across her face and slowly, reluctantly, moved from the comfort of those arms.

  Will let her go. He felt like a hole had been punched into his gut.

  ‘I’ll be right. Or should I say we’ll be all right.’ Bella laughed sadly as she put her hand to her belly. ‘We’re fine by ourselves, me and the bub.’

  She moved another step away from Will. She didn’t need any more complications and she didn’t need a bloke to make it okay. Plus, this man didn’t want children either. She could do this on her own. ‘We’d better get back to the others or they’ll drink all the beer and leave for the rodeo without us.’ With that, she turned and walked back up the hill towards the crowd still leaning against the ute.

  Will followed slowly, trying to assimilate the news. Bella with a baby. Surprisingly, he found it wasn’t hard to picture.

  By the time everyone was ready to leave for the rodeo, the grog in the beer fridge had run out, the main culprits being Macca, Sarah and Will, the two other girls not able to get stuck into it on account of breastfeeding and impending motherhood. The boys and Sarah were having a piss before heading off to the rodeo. Warren was still sulking inside the house; and Shelley was telling Bella all about the new-mums’ group she’d been to in town.

  ‘Jeez Louise, bloody women can talk, can’t they?’ yelled Macca, who was now ready to travel. ‘Are you sheilas comin’ or what?’

  ‘Keep your shirt on, big fella,’ Bella called back. ‘Shell, can you take these two drunken lovebirds back into town? Do you think you can drive Macca’s ute?’

  The young mum stood up straight and thrust her shoulders back. ‘Of course I can, I’ve driven a flamin’ logging truck, I can drive just about anything.’

  ‘Onya, girl. Go grab that driver’s seat, and Macca, you shut up, get in and cuddle your intended!’

  ‘Yes, ma’am!’ saluted Macca as he pushed Sarah into the ute first.

  ‘And what about me? Can I bot a ride off you?’ asked Will, who’d come up to stand by her side. He gave her a wary half-smile.

  ‘Yeah. You can have a seat . . .’ She threw the words over her shoulder as she walked off towards the house to give Warren directions to the rodeo ground. ‘You’ll just have to share it with Turbo.’

  Bella could hear Will’s groan as he went to grab the dog.

  Chapter 39

  The rodeo was in full swing by the time they all arrived, with the open steer-wrestling out in the ring. The ground was packed with locals and visitors alike, everyone set up with picnic chairs and rugs laid out in the sun. The bar was a popular place to be and the local primary school and Lions club were serving up the grub: hot roast beef, lamb or pork sandwiches washed down with water, beer, coke and rum; Bella’s tummy grumbled in anticipation.

  Placing a rug on the side of the hill leading down to the rodeo ring, Bella sat and prepared herself to be spellbound by the competition about to start in the arena. The steer-wrestling was one of her favourite parts and she didn’t want to miss a thing. She knew it wasn’t considered a team event, but the rider heavily relied on his hazer, the bloke charged with the job of keeping the steer running straight so the wrestler could get into a good position. Once the steer-wrestler took off he had to move down the right-hand side of his horse and reach for the steer’s horns with his hands. After he got hold of the horns, he had to jump off his horse and dig his heels into the ground to stop the animal running. The competitor then had to throw the steer down, flat on its side with all four feet straight. It was a spectacular sport to watch, and Bella loved every bit of it.

  Then came the barrel-racing, the team-roping and the open bareback ride followed by the main events of the day, the open saddle bronc and bull rides. Sitting as far from Will as possible, Warren watched the rodeo with a bored expression, ignoring everyone until Trin arrived. He then monopolised Trin, quietly talking non-stop. But Trin mustn’t have been interested in the ‘brilliant business proposition’ because Warren suddenly hopped up and called across to Bella that he was going for a beer.

  ‘Jeez, you would have thought he’d offer to grab us all a drink?’ said Caro, as she sat down beside Bella.

  ‘Don’t worry about him. He’s a bit pissed off.’ Bella watched Warren walk off like he had a pole shoved up his bum.

  ‘Why?’ asked Caro, puzzled.

  Bella waggled her empty ring finger in front of Caro’s nose.

  ‘Oh.’ Caro looked up into Bella’s face. ‘Are you okay about that?’

  Trinity glanced over, interested.

  ‘Perfectly,’ said Bella, and she realised it was the truth. Time to change the subject. ‘Hey, the open bareback ride’s on!’

  ‘You don’t say!’ said Trinity, picking up the bait and turning his attention back to the arena.

  ‘Yeah,’ Bella replied as Caro gave her a long hard look, catching the scent of a story. Bella ignored her and focused on the event. All were soon captivated as cowboys were thrown every few minutes and pick-up riders raced in to save their hides.

  Bella loved a good rodeo and didn’t want to miss a buck made by either horse or bull.

  It was five o’clock before the open bull ride fina
lly finished and they all started wandering back to their cars. A bunch of partygoers still hung out at the bar. There was a dance on in town that night to follow on from the rodeo, but Bella had earlier decided to give it a miss and head home instead.

  Will had asked for a lift, so she said goodbye to Shelley and her husband Joe, to Caro and Trin, and then set off towards the ute, hoping Will would get the message and follow. She could see a scrap of white paper fluttering on the windscreen of the car. She drew it out from under the wiper blade and saw it was a lavish business card with ‘Oxford, Bride and Associates’ emblazoned in orange-gold across a heavy blue smudge. Warren’s name was printed boldly across the front in a black fancy font. She turned it over to see his flamboyant handwriting decorating the back.

  Good luck with the baby, Warren

  Bella gave a wry smile. He was finally gone. And all she felt was relief. ‘No ties at all,’ she muttered as she let the card go, to twirl in the wind.

  Coming up behind her, Will stomped on the swirling card as it spun across the ground. He picked it up and turned it over to read Warren’s final words. The message was shockingly clear.

  He watched Bella as she wiggled her body into the driver’s seat of the ute. Now he looked hard enough, he could see her usually flat belly was rounding slightly from the rest of her slim figure and gently touching the black steering wheel.

  ‘Bastard!’ he uttered as he dropped the card back onto the ground at his feet. It gave him a small measure of satisfaction to squish it to a pulp under his heel.

  Macca and Sarah planned to head home to Macca’s parents’ place for a shower before they ventured to the dance.

  ‘See youse!’ he shouted across the paddock that served as a parking lot. ‘I’ll call out in a day or two, after Sarah tends to me sexual needs.’

  Will could see an arm moving in the ute as Macca yelled out, ‘Youch, fair go, wench! What did I do to deserve that?’ He was cut off as the door banged shut.

  ‘Righto,’ muttered Will, as he got into Bella’s ute and gave an indignant Turbo a gentle shove off the seat. ‘That cousin of yours hasn’t changed.’

  ‘Did you ever think he would?’ said Bella as she settled Turbo into the centre console and started up the ute. ‘Sarah’s got her work cut out training him, that’s for sure, but I reckon she’ll do it.’

  Bella was thoughtful as she guided the ute out onto the road. ‘What do you think Patty would have thought of her?’

  Will smiled as he looked out the passenger-side window into the sunset. ‘I think she would have liked her. She’s spirited but allows Macca to have his head. As long as she reins in the worst of him, they’ve got half a shot.’

  ‘Mmm.’ Bella swung the ute left around the T-intersection that led to Tindarra. ‘She obviously loves the dickhead.’

  Chapter 40

  The weeks turned into months, and Bella kept busy. She and Will formed an uneasy relationship, based on remembered friendship and a remote location. She needed his physical help as she grew bigger, but emotionally she still kept him at arm’s length, determined to do as much for herself as she could.

  She wasn’t sure what he got from the fragile friendship, forged as they worked together but he obviously got something, because he kept turning up every few days. Sometimes it was with a few groceries he’d noticed she needed, other times a paper or the mail. Once he arrived with a tiny woollen blanket he’d bought in Narree, knowing she was slowly collecting things for the baby.

  He took an interest in her work, and he talked quietly but passionately about his farm and dreams of expanding his holdings. She couldn’t help but look at the way he did things; his graceful movements to get a job done, his attraction to animals and the way he seemed to caress them with gentle, caring hands. Their time together was peaceful, careful as they avoided saying too much.

  The Landcare meetings were drawing to a close, and of that Bella was glad. The time had been fantastic and the farmers wonderful to work with, but she was finding she was getting very tired and all the travelling was doing her in.

  ‘How many more to go?’ asked Will one Saturday as he cut her some firewood. Bella sat on a spare chopping block enjoying watching his muscles move rhythmically as he split the wood.

  ‘I’ll be all finished this week,’ she said as she arched her back, trying to stretch the kinks from between her breasts and rounded belly. ‘Thank heavens, and then it’s just a matter of a bit more computer work to finish off the last reports and get the final document to my boss.’

  Will quietly observed Bella in her efforts to make her growing body more comfortable. To him the pregnancy had made her even more sensuous, more attractive. It didn’t matter to him that the baby belonged to someone else; it didn’t matter she was having a baby at all – he still felt that raw pull of attraction. He wondered if it was for some primal reason he found her more attractive than ever before – something all women developed – or if it was just because Bella meant so much to him. In the last few months he’d felt like there was a purpose in his life, for the first time in years.

  ‘So, Warren’s not going to be involved with the baby?’ Will ventured, knowing full well he would catch her unawares.

  There was silence for a minute while Bella adjusted to the change of direction in the conversation. ‘No,’ came the guarded response.

  ‘What are you going to do?’

  ‘Have it, look after it, love it . . . What else do you think?’ Bella got up from the log she was sitting on and moved slightly away. She stretched some more, aware that Will was watching. She looked across at him, and found a pair of brown eyes fixed on her.

  ‘I’ll get a job back here, my family will help me and I’ll make a life for both me and the baby in the country that I know and love.’

  Silence stretched between them, until a log toppled off the wood heap, breaking the spell.

  ‘Is your boss happy with your work so far? I mean, he should be, you’ve been putting in so much.’ Will started stacking wood again. He’d found out what he needed to know.

  Relieved the conversation was back on firmer ground, Bella responded eagerly, ‘Yes, I think so. He’s pretty happy now I’m finished and he can use the documents to attract State and Federal funding to our area.’

  Will took particular notice as she called it ‘our area’ with possessiveness and passion. He smiled to himself. This was the Bella he knew and loved.

  He smiled again and then took a deep breath.

  ‘Would you like to see some brumbies tonight?’

  They parked the Toyota just off the main track. Bella could make out faint traces of a path through the surrounding scrub, leading off to the right.

  ‘We walk from here,’ Will said as he paused for a moment to do up her Driza-bone coat, which now strained to reach around her belly. With a tap to her nose he then started off into the bush. Bella followed. Her heart was beating fast. She wasn’t sure if it had to do with Will’s closeness, that tap to her nose or the fact she might finally see a brumby mob. It had been years since she’d been brumby-running and she had missed the crazed rides through the high country scrub chasing down wild horses.

  And now here she was back again. Not brumby-running this time. Just quietly observing the horses in an environment they had made their own.

  They walked for what seemed like miles. They didn’t say a word as Will stopped and pointed every now and again at brumby signs. Recent unshod hoof marks in the soft wet soil. Piles of fresh poop all backed up one upon the other; a stallion marking his territory. Skid marks as the brumbies had scrambled up and down rocky inclines pushing their way to feed upon the verdant, grassy plains that dotted this wild, high country area.

  And then, as they skirted a boggy, open stretch of ground, they came across a pond of water, its grassy edges trampled to a muddy mess by unshod hooves. Bella knew these particular ponds weren’t a natural occurrence. When it was dry, the brumbies rolled themselves around in favourite spots, like this one, sco
oping out the dusty earth as they flung themselves from side to side, scratching and rubbing the dust into their bodies. In wet times such as now, those depressions filled with water, making a natural waterhole for the horses to drink from. Everything happened for a reason.

  Suddenly, Will stopped. Silent, his body poised to listen, he swung his head this way then that, sniffing and peering intently into the surrounding scrub.

  ‘Do you smell them?’ he whispered. Bella drew in a deep breath. Wafts from Will’s freshly bathed body shot up her nostrils: velvet soap, a musky-scented deodorant, peppermint toothpaste. Moving her head away and across the wind, she had another go. Breathing in gently, she caught a wisp of fetid manure. An earthy smell mixed with horse shit; and she knew she had it.

  Brumbies.

  Will slowly set off again, quietly placing his feet to make the least sound. All senses on alert, his head swung from side to side as he peered through the stringy-bark trees and scrub crowding around them. The scrub opened up and they hiked across another grassy plain, covered in knee-high tussocks with patches of billy buttons and the odd wild orchid popping up in places. Will stopped abruptly again. He motioned with one hand out to the right while the other gently pressed his lips indicating silence.

  Bella froze and looked eagerly in the direction he pointed.

  And there they were.

  A bay-coloured brumby with a white blaze cresting his proud head moved to the left of the main mob. The stallion, she presumed. Further across and partly hidden by the huge white gum trees she could just make out another four full-grown mares, two chestnuts and two bays. A plover in the trees above suddenly started a warning cry.

  Sharp and urgent, his song caused the stallion to throw his head in the air. Sniffing, senses on full alert, he poised, ready to flee. The mares also lifted their heads and moved towards the stallion. Will was silently cursing the plover when suddenly the mares, led by one of the chestnuts, swung away from the stallion and broke into a gallop, flinging themselves into the waiting bush on the other side of the plain. After one last sniff in the air, the stallion took off after them. Within seconds all that remained was the plover still peeping his warning to all around.