by Cathryn Hein
‘Have to try something else with the missy then.’
Matt considered telling him about Callie’s plan to paint the house and dismissed it, curious to see what scheme his uncle devised. The old man was still obsessed with Callie staying on at Glenmore, even more so now he’d returned home. She had to, he said. Maggie wanted it and he’d promised, and a man’s word mattered.
Matt wanted Callie to stay too, as badly as Wal, but it was her choice, and he was stuffed if he was going to manipulate her. Especially not after her parting words today. Callie had experienced enough hurt for one lifetime.
Wal used his cane to point at the pup with the crooked markings. Instead of the typical collie mark of a neat white stripe along the nose that widened over the top of the head, leaving the dog’s ears and eyes black, only the fur over the pup’s left eye and ear was dark. The right side of his face was pure white, his eye a disconcerting pale blue. ‘That one.’
‘What about that one.’
‘We’ll give it to the missy.’
Matt suppressed a sigh. Wal was going about this the wrong way. If a horse couldn’t make Callie stay, a dog stood no chance. ‘I don’t think she’ll take it.’
‘Course she will. Look at it!’
The pup cocked its head as though it knew it was under discussion, bright and button cute despite its mismatched eyes.
Matt’s negative response turned Wal’s expression vinegary. ‘Wouldn’t have to resort to this if you were doing your job right.’
‘She’s not some fucking chore, Wal. She’s a person. And who says I’m not doing things right by her? We could be shagging each other stupid for all you know.’
Eagerness illuminated Wal’s face. ‘Are you?’
‘None of your business.’
The hopefulness dimmed. Wal eyed him before jutting his cane in Matt’s direction. ‘You know your problem? You can’t see past her.’
‘Who?’ asked Matt, flummoxed. ‘Callie?’
‘Her sister, you muppet!’
Matt regarded his uncle with a granite gaze. ‘In case you’ve forgotten, Hope’s dead and what we shared died well before that. So you can get that stupid idea out of your head right now. You need anything? I’m going to sort this chook shed.’
He marched off, fists clenched, jaw rigid. But it wasn’t anger toward Wal coiling his muscles like compressed springs, it was fury at himself. Over the past few weeks, as his desire for Callie deepened, he’d forgotten all about his relationship with Hope. At the start he’d thought his feelings for Callie were some resurrected by-product of a long-forgotten teenage love, but he’d soon discovered they were better than that. Bigger, and far, far more complicated. He’d fallen in love with her and he thought – hoped – that even though it scared the crap out of her, Callie might feel the same.
Which meant that at some point he had to make a decision whether to tell her about Hope.
At the chook shed, Matt halted and stared at the wire enclosure with his hands on his hips. The roost was empty, the hens all out poking about the yard. The pungent smell of chook manure and soiled bedding hung in the air. At some point he’d need to clean the entire run out and give it a good wash with disinfectant, but that could wait for a cooler day. He glanced around, not in the mood for this. Right now he needed to sweat, dispel his brewing anger and, most of all, think.
In a cleared area at the side of the house, past the clothesline, Matt spotted Wal’s wood pile. Grimacing, he strode to the shed where the axe was kept.
He grunted with the weight of the first strike, smiling at the satisfying sound of metal splitting wood. It took several swings and feet adjustments to get his position steady, but once settled, he sank into a monotonous rhythm, muscles stretching, hands chafing, mind set loose.
Was it a lie, not to tell? Perhaps the answer would depend on whether Callie ever asked, and he doubted she would. Matt didn’t want to know about any of her past lovers, so why should she want to know about his? Trouble was, it felt wrong. Really wrong, like a betrayal. So many times he could have mentioned it, yet he never did. He’d kept his relationship with Hope secret, and secrecy gave things power they didn’t merit.
The axe thwacked again and again, wood splinters darting like missiles, the air redolent with the spicy aroma of cleaved timber. Sweat soaked his shirt and trickled down the line of his spine into his trousers. His shoulder muscles ached, his hands began to burn, and still Matt couldn’t rid the worry that he’d played this wrong.
But that wasn’t the worst of it. The worst thing about this entire fuck-up was that he hadn’t the faintest idea how Callie would react when she did find out. His head told him that if he explained it properly she’d understand.
The rest of him, though, wasn’t so sure.
The following afternoon shone too glorious for argument but that didn’t stop Matt trying. To save Wal a laborious hobble across the yard, he’d driven the Amarok to the house and now stood holding the passenger door open for his uncle.
‘You’re wasting your time,’ he said. ‘She won’t take it.’
Wal tossed back a dirty look before snapping his fingers at the pup and ordering it inside the ute. The pup skittered over to the driver’s seat, overexcited body quivering from head to tail. Matt observed it suspiciously. If it piddled, it was out, regardless of his uncle’s demands.
‘Will. Girls like pups.’
‘I’m telling you, she won’t.’
‘What would you know about women? Nothing, that’s what.’
Matt gave up. No, he wasn’t an expert on women, but he knew enough about Callie to know Wal’s present would be dumped straight back into his arms. Besides, it really was too nice a day for this, although his appreciation might have had more to do with spending time with Callie than the weather’s magnificence.
For the short drive to Glenmore, Wal kept the puppy perched on his lap, the pair of them as quivery and adventure hungry as each other; if Wal had owned a tail, it would have wagged. Instead, he peered through the windscreen, inspecting the passing landscape, keen-eyed and confident, convinced he’d come up with another way to keep Callie at Glenmore, and completely oblivious to the real reason she’d invited him over.
Given the old man’s moods, Matt wasn’t sure Callie’s plan was such a great idea, but Phantom was due back in Warrnambool the following day and Callie and Kate were willing to try anything. He glanced at his watch. They had fifteen minutes or so before Kate and Lyndall were due – an hour earlier than their usual time, but Kate had decided this was more important than an hour’s schooling.
He pulled up near the house and, spotting Callie by the water tank, signalled an okay. Her return grin tripped his heart. That and the way she looked, all country fresh and sunshiny. He liked how she never dressed up, always casually pretty in shorts and singlets that showed off her athletic body but in an unselfconscious, almost wholesome way. The naturalness of her made her far sexier than other women he’d known. Not that he’d had that many. The scars left by Hope’s dumping made him cautious. At least they had until war and a roadside bomb changed everything.
‘I’m not a bloody invalid,’ muttered Wal as Callie attempted to assist him from the car.
‘Suit yourself,’ she said, stepping back with her arms crossed. She remained close enough for Wal to lean on her if needed, her attention sharp.
The pup sat thumpy-tailed on the driver’s seat while Wal eased himself out. When she caught sight of the dog, Callie’s warm welcome smile had iced over. Lips pursed, she’d thrown Matt a ‘don’t even think of it’ glance. Matt had shrugged and responded with a wry ‘blame the old man’ expression that left her raising her eyes heavenward.
Feet square, cane propped between his legs and one hand on the ute, Wal called to the pup. It scampered obediently to the edge of the passenger seat, looking up at him. ‘Down,’ he ordered, and in a few leaps the pup was out and by his feet. ‘Good dog. Now go meet your mistress.’
‘Oh, no you don’t,�
�� said Callie, palms held up.
‘Too late,’ said Wal, shutting the ute door. He gripped his cane and, with nothing else to say, set off on his shuffling journey to the house.
Callie followed alongside. ‘I’m not taking him, Wal.’
‘Dog needs a home. You’re it.’
Releasing a frustrated growl, she stopped, hands on hips, to examine the pup which, with a hand signal from Wal, had propped to regard her.
‘Don’t look at me like that. I’m not your mistress.’ The dog whined softly and raised its paw. She closed her eyes for a moment, shaking her head. Finally, after tossing another filthy glance Wal’s way, she scooped the pup up, carried him back to the ute and deposited him gently in the tray. After ruffling his head she cupped his jaw and addressed the pup eye to eye. ‘Now you be a good dog and sit there, okay?’
Though the pup whined plaintively and tried to lick her hand, as Matt predicted, Callie remained strong. She strode back to Wal.
‘Don’t try that trick again. I have enough animals to deal with. Now,’ she said, perking up, ‘come and say hello to your old friend Phan.’
The horse was on the back lawn in his usual grass-snuffling position, silver-coated in the sunshine. From the buckets of horse care products lined up against the house wall, Callie had spent another morning lovingly pampering her old mount. Phantom’s tail even sported trendy show-pony kinks where she’d plaited the length and let it dry. Water puddled the path where the coiled-up garden hose had leaked the last of its contents. Honk waddled nearby, poking his beak around and releasing disgruntled toots.
It was all comfortingly rural but Matt barely noticed any of it. The horse could have been dyed purple with fluorescent green zebra stripes and Honk roaring like a lion for all he cared. Dampness had turned the thin fabric of Callie’s white singlet translucent and clingy, adhering to her skin and exposing the pink lace edge of her bra. He couldn’t stop ogling her. Soon he’d have to make an excuse and hide to save embarrassment.
Leaving Wal chatting to Phan, Callie slid to his side. ‘Are you all right?’
‘No.’
‘What’s the matter?’
He bent close to her. ‘White singlets and water don’t mix.’
She glanced down then darted a look toward his groin, gaze lingering in a way that only made his suffering worse.
‘Sorry.’
‘Liar.’
‘I am. Really.’ She smiled sympathetically. ‘Not great timing. I’ll go change. Keep an eye out for Kate and Lyndall for me?’
‘In this state?’
‘Good point. I’ll be quick.’
She dashed inside. After pausing to check Wal was fine, Matt wandered over to pat sooky Morton – anything to keep his mind from thinking of Callie’s small, perfectly formed breasts bouncing as she dragged the damp singlet from her silky skin and over her head.
She returned wearing a disappointingly loose navy T-shirt and slid him a look from under lowered lashes. ‘Better?’
He dug his hands into his jeans pockets, trying to ease his discomfort, then leaned close, keeping his voice low so Wal wouldn’t hear. ‘Not when you look at me like that.’
‘No control.’
‘I have plenty.’
Her mouth twitched, blue eyes gleaming. ‘Do you?’
‘Play your cards right and you might find out.’ He glanced over his shoulder at Wal and straightened, too well versed in his uncle’s ways to be fooled by his feigned nonchalance. Wal might appear to be massaging Phantom but his head was tilted in a manner that suggested far too much interest in the goings-on of others. Matt made a show of checking his watch. ‘Kate and Lyndall will be here any minute. You’d better prime him.’
‘I suppose I’d better.’ She sighed and turned to scrutinise Wal. ‘Wish me luck. I have the feeling I’m going to need it.’
Thanks to Wal’s ministrations, Phan was in a state of equine ecstasy, the expression on his long face that of a dosed-up junkie. With each dig of Wal’s magic fingers, the horse’s back curled deeper, like a dog arching away from a delicious scratch. Relaxation had caused his penis to flop out and swing pendulously below his belly. Callie grinned and threw Matt a wink that had him digging his hands even further into his pockets.
‘Pony been walking stiff?’ Wal asked when Callie approached.
‘No, why?’
‘Bit of arthritis in his back. You can feel it.’ Wal indicated for Callie to put her hand near his and rub. ‘See?’
She frowned. ‘I’m not sure what I’m meant to be feeling.’
‘Rough bits, on the bone.’
Callie shook her head. ‘It feels normal to me but I’m not a great horseman like you.’ She dug some more before giving up. ‘You were always the best with horses. And riders. You taught me pretty well.’
The compliment merely earned her a grunt. ‘You used to listen back then.’
Ignoring the dig, Callie went on. ‘Which is why I’d like to ask you a favour.’
Wal withdrew his fingers and leaned both hands on his cane, eyes narrowing. ‘A favour, huh? Well, spit it out.’
‘Help me help Lyndall overcome her fear of horses.’
‘Think I’m stupid, don’t you, missy?’
‘No, I don’t. I think you’re very smart and I also know that beneath all that bluster there’s a kind man who cares about people, which is why I’m asking you for help.’
Wal poked a finger toward her chest. ‘Maggie bought that horse for you. Not for some spoiled brat.’
‘She’s not a spoiled brat. She’s a sweet girl who’s lost her confidence and I want to help her get it back.’
‘Help her then. Disregard your poor grandmother’s dying wish and give her the horse. Do what you bloody well like. You will anyway.’ He made a dismissive gesture before clutching back at his cane and hobbling toward the path. ‘Just don’t expect me to get involved.’
‘Come on, Wal,’ said Matt, forsaking his better judgement and joining in. ‘Lyndall loves that horse.’
‘Please, Wal.’ Callie clutched at his arm. ‘I’m not doing this to hurt Nanna. I’m doing this because I don’t want Lyndall to hurt like I did.’
‘And whose fault was that?’
Callie said nothing but the sag of her shoulders made Matt want to hug her close and not let go.
Wal appraised her for a moment, mouth slumped in a subsidence of wrinkles. ‘All right,’ he said suddenly. ‘But on one condition.’
‘What?’
‘You take the pup.’
‘Oh, Wal, you know I can’t. I live in a shared flat. The others would never allow it, nor is it fair on the dog.’
Wal resumed his uneven lumber out of the yard. ‘Take it or leave it.’
Callie stared despairingly at Matt. He walked to her side, rested a hand on her back and rubbed gently.
‘I’m sorry. He won’t budge now the idea’s in his head.’
Her head dropped. ‘Damn.’
As soon as she said the word, car noise filtered from the road followed by a crunch of tyres on gravel as a vehicle turned into the property.
Callie jerked up. ‘Damn.’ She stomped a foot. ‘Damn, damn, damn!’
‘It’s okay. Lyndall will come good eventually.’
‘She won’t, I know she won’t. Kate will give up or Xav will put a stop to her visits again. Today’s our last chance.’ Pressing the edge of her curled fist to her mouth she considered for a few seconds. Then she dropped her arm, uttered another heartfelt ‘damn’ and marched after Wal, leaving Matt shaking his head in wonder.
Despite everything, the old man had won.
‘So what are you going to call him?’ asked Kate, fondling the puppy’s ears and trying to avoid his friendly but needle-like bites.
Matt, Callie and Kate had parked themselves near the house to give Lyndall space. Not that she’d required a lot. Fifteen minutes after meeting Wal, in what had seemed like an act of magic to all of them, Wal had her stroking Phantom’s nose. T
en minutes later she’d walked a circle all the way around the horse, hand not leaving Phantom’s shiny coat. Now, half an hour on, she sat bareback on Phantom, expression rapt as she listened to Wal’s instructions.
‘No idea,’ said Callie, turning to Matt. ‘I don’t suppose you have one?’
Matt considered for a moment. ‘You could name him after Wal.’
‘Call him Wally, you mean?’ She smiled. ‘That has possibilities.’
‘What about Patch?’ asked Kate. ‘For his markings.’
‘Patch.’ Callie held up the pup and inspected him nose to snout, savouring the name. ‘Patch,’ she said again, and the pup responded with a squirm and a deftly placed lick on her nose.
‘I think he likes it,’ Matt said, feeling dumbly soppy at the charm of it all and more than a bit disconcerted. Callie had the ability to either completely unman him or leave him pumped with testosterone.
She held the pup against her chest, stroking it fondly. ‘Patch it is then.’
Name decided, they turned back to Wal and Lyndall.
‘He’s amazing,’ said Kate.
Callie smiled. ‘He is, isn’t he? I should have introduced them earlier, when Wal was captive in hospital. Might have saved me being lumped with a dog.’ She looked down at Patch and kissed the top of his head. ‘Not that you’re not a little sweetie. He was a brilliant teacher when I was kid. Everything he said made sense. And it was so simple too. Like how horses don’t judge, they just act in response to fear. So when they kick or bite or misbehave, it’s not because they’re being naughty or stubborn or mean, they’re just frightened, and that fear can only exist because we did something to make it. Change our behaviour, teach them to trust us, and everything will fall into place.’
‘Obvious when you think about it. They’re prey animals after all.’
‘Exactly. Their behaviour is simple and instinctive. It’s the modification of our behaviour that’s hard.’ Lowering Patch to the ground, Callie squinted at the sky and then down at Matt’s wrist. Realising what she wanted, he held his watch up for her. Her nose screwed up when she read the time. ‘I suppose I should get ready for work.’
