Under the Flame Tree

by Karen Wood

  ‘You want me to send you smoke signals from Rutherford?’ he laughed.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘It’s three and half hours away.’ He gathered her back up into his arms. ‘But you got it.’ They kissed for a while longer, his legs entwining with hers, and then he let go and took her by the hand. ‘Come on,’ he said, leading her out of the shed and into the yard.

  ‘Where are we going?’

  ‘It’s Friday night. I’m taking you out.’

  Kirra let Daniel drag her out to the home yard, where he held open the door of the four-wheel drive for her, which she now noticed had Rutherford Holdings sign-written on the door.

  ‘But . . .’ she stammered. ‘I’m filthy.’

  ‘Won’t matter,’ he said.

  Kirra grinned as she slipped into the front seat. Daniel ran around the bonnet and jumped into the driver’s seat. He reached under the wheel and kicked the engine over.

  ‘Where are we going?’ she asked.

  ‘I’ll think of somewhere.’ He turned the wheel hard left and hit the accelerator, spinning the wheels and bringing up a cloud of dust behind the fourbie, before fishtailing out of the driveway. He turned the music up, hit the blinker and sailed out of Moorinja and onto the highway.

  They drove into a purple and gold sunset.

  ‘So what’s happening with Lisa now?’ Kirra asked.

  ‘Troy showed Dad the letter and the DNA test and he hit the roof.’ Daniel gave her a guilty look. ‘I’d taken a photocopy of it before I gave it back. Turns out Dad’s been paying Emily to shut up for eighteen years.’

  ‘Nice,’ said Kirra, unimpressed. Then she realised she was talking about Daniel’s father. ‘Sorry.’

  ‘That’s okay, he deserves it. Lisa told him to shove his money anyway. Troy showed Mum the letter. Now Mum’s paying her uni fees.’

  ‘What the . . .?’

  Daniel shook his head. ‘Don’t get me wrong, Mum still hates Emily, but she hates Dad even more. She’s doing it to make him feel bad.’

  ‘Won’t Lisa go to jail for lying in court?’

  ‘The solicitor thinks he can get her off on bail with a hefty fine, which Mum’s also willing to pay.’

  ‘To spite your dad?’

  ‘She’s trying to make him feel guilty.’

  ‘That’s bizarre.’

  ‘Tell me about it.’

  ‘What about your other brothers?’

  ‘They haven’t met Lisa yet.’ He shrugged as he drove. ‘Not sure how they’ll be.’

  Daniel pulled off onto the side of the road. ‘Reckon the gate would be unlocked?’

  Ahead was the old gate that led to the Scrubby Creek yards. She grinned and pulled a tangle of keys from her pocket.

  ‘You’re a key freak.’

  ‘I am,’ she said, stepping out and getting the gate. He drove through and she closed it behind him. ‘Can I please drive?’ she asked through the window.

  ‘Seeing you asked so politely, no.’

  Daniel drove across Scrubby Creek, bumping over the cracking dry earth and through wispy dry Flinders grass. After several more gates, they reached the big cattle trough.

  Daniel pulled his shirt over the back of his head and threw it onto the back of the fourbie. His body was brown and beautiful and snaked into his jeans in a way that made Kirra blush. ‘Coming in?’ He backed up to the trough and fell in backwards, making a splash, and sank under the water in a gush of bubbles. He exploded back out again, shaking his head and spraying water everywhere.

  Kirra kicked off her boots and pulled her socks off by the toes. Then she unbuttoned her jeans, slid them over her legs and stepped out of them. She undid her shirt buttons, smiling at him and let it fall off her shoulders, until she stood before him in a singlet and undies. She tiptoed through the mud and then let herself fall backwards into the water. It gushed over her skin, cool and silky.

  Daniel caught her and she felt his cool wet arms wrap around her shoulders. She leaned back into his chest and felt his chin on top of her head. The water sloshed around them and the float valve hissed and splurted more water into the trough.

  She lay against him, watching the cattle graze in the wispy grass. His fingers traced over her thigh, giving her goosebumps. Her leg looked like the skin of a freshly plucked chicken. He laughed.

  She rolled over onto her knees and touched his chest, tracing the ink marks with her fingers, the running W, bull’s head and SAM. ‘She’s a cutie.’

  He laughed. ‘She’s a bigger brat than you.’

  ‘Do you think your parents will sort it out?’

  His eyes narrowed and he pulled a face. ‘Don’t think so.’

  ‘I heard she’d left him.’

  Daniel nodded.

  She leaned into him, closed her eyes and kissed his scar for a long moment, wanting to kiss his hurt away, wanting to piece him back together. ‘A scar is supposed to mean that the hurt is over,’ she whispered.

  ‘It will always have your stitch marks around it.’

  She traced her fingers over his chest, across his collarbone and found a fresh raw mark on his shoulder. Upon closer inspection, it was a fancy M curled at both ends. ‘Moorinja’s brand?’ It was still red raw and puffy.

  He looked embarrassed.

  ‘Does that mean I should get a matching one?’ she joked.

  ‘I wouldn’t mind if you did.’ He ran his hand over her shoulder in the corresponding place.

  ‘And be branded like a cow? No, thanks.’ But she had to admit, she liked it on him. She pressed her lips gently onto his skin and gave small soft kisses around the new mark. She ran more kisses up his neck, across his jaw until her nose was on his. She kissed him again, for how long she didn’t know. She got totally lost in him. The shadows grew longer and darker around them and soon it was night.

  30

  They missed dinner. Everyone was sitting in the lounge room watching ABC3, empty dinner plates stacked on the coffee table. ‘You brought the car back,’ said Troy. ‘I was beginning to think we’d be staying the night.’

  Kirra and Daniel found some leftover steak and salad and brought two platefuls out to the porch. Music blared from the bunker and Natalie’s voice sang over the top of it. Kirra wondered how much champagne her friend had drunk. She heard Paul’s laugh, then Natalie squealed.

  She grinned. Inside, the telly switched to a footy game and Troy and her dad started yelling at the screen. Too soon they bustled out of the front door and Kirra realised they were saying their goodbyes. She didn’t want the night to end. She felt as though her life was only just starting. Troy walked onto the porch with a sleeping Sammy tossed over his shoulder. ‘Coming?’

  Lisa followed. ‘Thanks for dinner, Mrs Ravel,’ she said.

  ‘Everyone calls me Joss,’ said Kirra’s mum, following the gathering onto the front porch.

  Lisa looked at Kirra and Daniel. ‘If you ever want to come to Townsville, stay overnight, see a movie or something . . .’

  ‘That’d be great,’ said Kirra.

  Lisa gave her what looked like a relieved smile. Kirra smiled back.

  Daniel stood. Kirra walked with them to the front steps and stood with her hands in her pockets, watching him walk across the yard to the four-wheel drive. Troy hopped in the driver’s side. He hung his arm out the window. ‘If they don’t look after you, Kirra, you know who to come and see.’ He winked at her.

  ‘Stop poaching my staff,’ Jim called from the front steps.

  ‘You look after her, then,’ Troy called back. ‘The good ones are hard to find.’

  ‘I’m happy here, but thanks,’ Kirra said shyly.

  Daniel stood by his door and gave her a wanting look. She walked to him. He drew her towards him and snaked his arms around her waist, smiling down at her. And he pressed his lips to hers, kissing her deeply and holding her closer. Kirra ran her arms around his neck and hooked them behind his head, kissing him back. She heard the sound of fake coughing from inside the cabin of th
e ute. They both sighed and let go.

  Daniel took her hand in his and curled her fingers into her palm, leaving her pointer out. He brought her finger to the filthy window of the ute. KIRRA.

  She moved her hand under his and wrote DANIEL.

  ‘Pick you up Friday night,’ he muttered into another kiss.

  ‘Where we going?’ she muttered back, without letting go of his lips.

  ‘I’ll think of something.’

  More kissing.

  ‘Okay.’

  There was another loud fake cough from the cabin. They both laughed. Kirra closed her eyes and gave Daniel a prolonged hug, one designed to last for a whole week.

  As she waved him off the property she heard squealing and saw Paul and Natalie disappearing across a paddock on Jamie’s motorbike. The headlight dipped and waved over the grassy paddock. They were headed for the creek. Kirra knew what went on down by that creek.

  She headed back to the house. ‘I’m turning in,’ she said to her mother.

  ‘So, you’re not taking off to Rutherford?’ Jocelyn’s face was etched with anxiety.

  ‘Of course not. I like it here.’ Kirra gave her mum a hug.

  ‘So, you and Daniel?’

  ‘He’s going to come see me every weekend.’

  ‘He lives miles away!’

  ‘Make him earn your heart, honey,’ said Jim approvingly, walking into the kitchen. ‘Geez, it was good to see Troy after all these years. He’s grown up a bit. Looks just like his old man.’ He looked thoughtful for a moment. ‘So does Lisa.’

  ‘I judged her so wrong,’ said Kirra.

  Her dad gave her a cuff on the head. ‘It’s good that the truth’s out.’

  ‘I hope so,’ said Kirra. ‘I’m going to bed.’

  ‘Proud of you,’ he said, kissing the top of her head. She squeezed him; he only needed a quick hug, she would see him in the morning.

  Two white envelopes sat on her bedside table. On the first, Kirra recognised the blue and pink logo on the top left hand corner. Her enrolment forms! She hugged them to her chest.

  The second had KIRRA scrawled over the front of it. From Daniel? She picked it up and slowly opened it. Inside were two folded pieces of paper: one had a drawing of a horse with brands and markings written on it in pen, a fancy M on one shoulder and numbers on the other. There was a whorl marked on the neck and two small socks on the back fetlocks. Registration papers. For Moorinja Iceman. She kept reading. It transferred ownership from Moorinja Pastoral Co. to Kirra Ravel.

  Kirra gasped and held the papers to her chest. Iceman was hers? Daniel had bought him for her? She pulled the sash window of her bedroom up to let the breeze in and saw her name, scrawled into the dust, just like he was scrawled into her heart. No one bothered washing windows around here. She crawled out the window, licked her finger and wrote DANIEL underneath it. Then she circled it in tiny hearts, like lovesick satellites. Oh man, she had it bad.

  Her phone buzzed and she snatched it out of her pocket.

  goodnight beautiful

  seven sleeps, she answered. Then she crumbled. She couldn’t wait that long. She tried to ring him. It was out of range. Argh! She sat on the old couch on the porch and sent another text.

  I got a new horse!

  Is he nice?

  Not really, he’s kind of scarred and angry but I love him anyway.

  He sounds awesome.

  She grinned and hugged her phone to her chest before answering again.

  He is. He is brave and honest and strong. A little bit rank at times.

  All the good ones are.

  Thank you.

  You’re welcome.

  Would it be really pathetic to kiss the phone? Kirra hugged it again instead and looked out across the horse paddock, trying to see Iceman. She couldn’t see any of the horses. She curled back onto the couch.

  Can you see the same stars as me?

  No, we’re still driving.

  Will you see the same ones from Rutherford?

  Yes.

  On Monday morning Kirra sat under the flame tree with her workmates. Tiny red buds flickered along its silvery branches. She smiled up at it. It wouldn’t be long before the whole tree was ablaze, hot and fierce and wheeling with fire, heralding the start of summer, and the beginning of the storm season. She laughed, a happy laugh that rolled over the red and black basalt downs of Moorinja and blew across the far-flung ridgetops.

  ‘Time to get back to work,’ said Jim, rising from the table.

  There were groans and grumbles and the scraping of chairs. Kirra rose and flicked her tea leaves onto the grass. Four more sleeps, she thought. She could wait that long . . .

  About the Author

  Karen Wood is the author of the five Diamond Spirit books, the rural romances Jumping Fences and Rain Dance, and the junior fiction series Trickstars. She has an Arts degree majoring in communications and a diploma in horticulture. She is married with two children, a few horses, some dogs, chooks and a very cute rabbit. She lives on a small acreage on the Central Coast, New South Wales, where she spends as much time as possible with kids and horses or at her laptop, dreaming up a new book.