A Chance of Stormy Weather

by Tricia Stringer

  “Now, don’t worry.” Rowena rubbed her forehead. “I can do most of it.”

  “That doesn’t seem fair.”

  “Nonsense. The shed is by your house so you’ll have the brunt of the to-ing and fro-ing and washing up. Cooking for shearers is a part of farm life.” Rowena frowned and leaned back against her car.

  “Are you all right?”

  “I can’t seem to shake this headache. I’ve had it for days. It’s most unlike me. I felt a bit dizzy for a moment but I’m fine now. I’ll head off home and get a good night’s sleep. We can discuss the food again tomorrow.”

  The car door slammed shut and Rowena reversed away with her usual burst of speed. Paula watched until her car was out of sight, then rushed inside. In her kitchen she dragged out all the recipe books she had, including the old ones she’d found in the pantry. She searched frantically for ideas about what to cook. In one old cookbook she found a recipe called ‘Shearer’s Cake’. From the ingredients she gathered it was some kind of heavy fruit cake but the cooking instructions sent her into hysterics. ‘It should be baked in two petrol tins cut sideways.’

  Tarzan put his paws on her knees as she laughed. She patted her lap and he jumped up. “I don’t know, Tarzan. These country women certainly do things differently. I won’t be making that one. I don’t have any petrol tins handy.” Stroking his soft ears she continued to search for suitable recipes.

  By the time Dan came home she had the debris of her work spread everywhere in the kitchen, trays of biscuits in the oven and a cake waiting to go in but nothing organised for their evening meal.

  Dan stood in the doorway surveying the chaos.

  “Don’t you start, Dan Woodcroft.” Paula wagged a floury finger at him, a smile wavering on her lips. “Why didn’t you tell me I had to cook for shearers?”

  “I didn’t think of it.” He put up his hands. “Rowena usually does it.”

  “I’m here now.”

  “Yes, but Rowena is a partner…”

  Paula cut him off. “And I’m not.”

  “Of course you are.” Dan rushed to her side. “I haven’t been thinking straight, I should have told you. I couldn’t get my usual contractors and it’s been a hard slog getting these guys here. I didn’t really want them yet but it’s the closest time I could get. Look, how about I make us scrambled eggs.”

  “That would be good.” Paula grimaced. “If we had any eggs left. Will soup and toasties do?”

  “Whatever,” Dan said. “I’ll get the fire going.”

  “You have your shower. I’ll deal with this and do the fire.”

  Time had gotten away from her. It was almost dark and the rest of the house, away from the frenzy she had created in the kitchen, would be cold. He gave a nod and left her to it.

  By the time she had finished cooking and cleaning up and they’d eaten a picnic tea in the lounge by the fire, it was after nine o’clock.

  “Did you check on the sheep?” she asked as she leaned back against Dan in a relaxed state of mild exhaustion.

  “No change. I looked in on them before I came inside.”

  “Can we look again? I’d like to see them before I go to bed.”

  “It’s freezing out there.”

  “Please, Dan.” She pulled on his hands to stand him up.

  He gave in and they rugged up and took the torch to make the trek across the yard to the shearing shed. Dan turned on the lights and Paula rushed to the rail to look into the pen.

  “Dan,” she whispered excitedly. “She’s standing up and the lamb is drinking from her.”

  Dan came to stand beside Paula. “She’s a good mother.”

  “It’s a positive sign, isn’t it?”

  “We’ll see.”

  Paula watched fascinated as the lamb tugged at the ewe’s teats. Its little tail wagged so hard it looked like it would spin right off.

  Paula said a quiet prayer for the ewe and her baby as Dan dragged her away and back to the warmth of the house.

  CHAPTER

  18

  Rowena sipped her honey and lemon tea then rested her head back onto the soft cushions of her rocking chair and shut her eyes. She felt lousy. Blast, she thought to herself. I haven’t got time to be sick now. There’s too much to do.

  Her earlier conversation with Paula didn’t make her feel any easier. Dan should have explained about shearing and the meals but even so Paula didn’t seem to be much of a cook. These contractors had a reputation for walking out if the food wasn’t to their liking. Getting shearers was hard enough without worrying about them staying the distance.

  Rowena’s head throbbed and she reached for the headache tablets she’d left on the table. She hated taking drugs of any sort but she was feeling desperate.

  Paula was still such an enigma. Sometimes she seemed so sensible and acted as if nothing could faze her and the next she panicked and flew off the handle at the slightest sign of difficulty.

  And her speech the night of the party! Rowena could not understand what that had been about. Whatever had set the girl to prattle on about babies and responsibilities was a mystery. Paula didn’t strike Rowena as totally tactless but on Friday night she had put her foot right in her mouth and nearly swallowed it.

  Rowena had organised the surprise party to help Paula get to know a few of the locals. Apart from Rowena, no one from the local community had been at the wedding. Some of Dan’s city and interstate friends had been there and one had been a last-minute stand-in for Bruce as best man. She’d thought it important that the newlyweds had a good country party to start their married life.

  It had been a good night although it was a surprise to see Katherine there. That woman had more front than David Jones. And Rowena had noticed Dan’s drinking. He’d certainly consumed quite a lot by the time she left. It was most unlike him to drink excessively. He’d done it a bit in his younger days but thankfully hadn’t kept it up like some did, drinking themselves into oblivion every week.

  He was a steady, reliable man and she was so proud of him and what he had achieved with the farm. Rowena hoped his determination to pay off Katherine, without involving Paula, wouldn’t be his undoing. Too many secrets were not a good thing.

  “Blast,” she muttered. The pounding in her head had not abated at all. She stood up and the room spun briefly. A small wave of concern washed over her. She lived alone now. What if she passed out? Carefully, she took herself off to bed. A good night’s sleep was the best cure for everything.

  * * *

  Paula looked up from the breakfast table as Dan came in the door but he couldn’t match her smile. He knew she would be upset by his news.

  “What is it?”

  “The ewe didn’t make it.”

  “No!” Paula pushed her chair back. “She was improving last night. Are you sure she’s not just resting?”

  Dan grabbed Paula’s arm as she rushed towards the door. “She’s dead, Sweet Pea. I should have finished her off yesterday. It was worth a try but the damage was too great.” He pulled Paula close. He should have shot the poor sheep when they’d found it. He didn’t like to see animals suffer but euthanasia wasn’t a job he enjoyed either and he’d let Paula’s enthusiasm dissuade him.

  “What about the lamb?” she asked.

  Dan smiled. He took in her trembling lip as he brushed a tear from her cheek. He wanted to protect her from the often cruel reality of life on the farm. Working with animals could be distressing at times. “It’s okay for now. I’ve handfed lambs before, but sometimes they don’t make it. Rowena’s probably got all the gear we need at her place. We had a lamb we bottle-fed last spring.”

  “Did it live?”

  “No.” Dan watched the hope fade from Paula’s face. “But its mother had deserted it at birth and only fed the twin. It was very weak and hadn’t had any colostrum. This one’s age and a few days of the ewe’s milk might be enough to keep it alive.”

  “The poor little thing. Where is it now?”

&nb
sp; “Still in the pen. I’ll have to corner off a bit of the backyard so it’s close for feeding. It’s a four-hourly job to start with.”

  “But it’s so cold at night. Why don’t we use the sleep-out? It’s only a cement floor and it’s grotty anyway. I can clean it out afterwards.”

  Dan looked down at the eager face of his wife and he couldn’t resist kissing her. “Promise me you won’t get too attached, Sweet Pea. It might not make it.”

  “You’re such a pessimist. Think positively.”

  He put an arm around her shoulders. She was right in a way. He didn’t think of himself as a pessimist, just practical. The odds were against the lamb’s survival, and there wasn’t room to get too emotional. It only made his work harder.

  “Okay.” He grinned. “But I want to remind you that only a few weeks ago you said you drew the line at sharing our bed with animals. It seems to me that we will soon be sharing our house with a dog who has taken over the laundry and a lamb in the sleep-out. I worry about what you’re planning next.”

  “Nothing at this stage and certainly nothing extra in our bed.” She poked his chest with her finger.

  “Not even our own children?” Dan sensed immediately that he had said something wrong. Paula pulled away from him and the sparkle left her eyes.

  “Especially not that.”

  There was silence between them. Paula looked at him expectantly but he didn’t know what to say. The phone rang and she hurried to answer it.

  He recalled the night of the party and her words about babies and responsibilities. He had thought at the time they were directed at him but he didn’t understand why and she hadn’t mentioned it since. They’d never discussed having children. Perhaps she genuinely didn’t want them. Children were something he’d assumed he’d have with the right person. Paula was definitely the right person but if she didn’t want children, he could live with that too.

  “Dan!” He turned at her appeal. She had obviously called him before and he hadn’t heard her. She was holding the phone out towards him, worry all over her face. “It’s your aunt. She doesn’t sound well.”

  He was by the phone in two strides. “Rowena? What’s up?” He couldn’t recall the last time Rowena had been sick. She was the toughest person he knew.

  “I’ve got a terrible headache I can’t get rid of and I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck.” Rowena’s voice shook. “I’ve made a doctor’s appointment but I feel a bit dizzy. I know you’re flat out getting ready for shearing but I don’t think I can drive —”

  “Of course you won’t. What time is your appointment?”

  “Eleven o’clock…” Rowena broke off into a rasping cough.

  Dan looked at his watch. “Will you be all right till then? I can come over earlier.”

  “I’ll be fine. See you then.”

  Dan listened as the line went quiet.

  “What’s the matter with her?” Paula asked.

  “I don’t know. It could be that nasty flu virus that’s been doing the rounds. She must be feeling bad, she rarely sees a doctor.”

  He looked at his watch again. He had sheep to shift and things to get ready for the shearers. It would take him and Tom all the time between now and when the shearers arrived to be organised. He’d lose half the day taking Rowena in and out to the doctor.

  “Does she need driving? I can take her.”

  Dan smiled gratefully at Paula. He was so used to managing things himself. He was beginning to give Tom a bit more responsibility. Now there was another person in his life he could rely on.

  “Thanks. You’ll probably need to leave here by quarter past ten, her appointment’s at eleven.”

  “Thank you, Dan. I think I can manage the timeline.”

  “Perhaps you could take the dual cab. I’ve got some fencing wire and some chemicals to collect at the stock agents. It will save Tom or me a trip. I can go with Tom in the ute to move the sheep.”

  He pecked her on the cheek, relieved that was all sorted and strode out the door already planning his next movements and directions for Tom.

  * * *

  Paula shook her head and sat back at the breakfast table to finish her tea. For a moment she had thought the opportunity had come to talk to him about Katherine and their child. Rowena’s phone call had put an end to any discussion they might have had. She really needed to get it out in the open. It was building an invisible wall between them.

  Tarzan scratched impatiently at the door.

  “You must be eating too much.” She let him outside. “I wonder if Carl stocks dog doors. That’s what we need, Tarzan.” Then she remembered the lamb. She went outside and collected up some of the old furniture she’d dumped when she’d cleaned out the sleep-out for Tarzan. She carted it inside to block off a corner of the old room for the lamb. She lined the inside of the makeshift pen with newspaper. The pup was a close shadow watching everything she did.

  Next she went up to the shearing shed. The lamb was alone, a bundle of legs in the corner of the pen. Dan must have disposed of the mother. The sound of the pen gate opening brought the little creature to its feet and it bleated pathetically. Paula gathered it up and carried it back to the house, talking to it all the way, with Tarzan following patiently at her heels.

  She put the lamb down gently on the paper and it stumbled around, once again bleating pathetically. The pen looked so barren and uninviting. Paula had thrown out the rags that Tarzan had arrived in. He still slept on the one old blanket she had. What could she use to keep the poor little creature cosy and warm? Then she remembered the tattered curtains she’d stuffed in the chest.

  Tarzan tipped his head on one side and looked quizzically at Paula as she giggled at the sight before her. There was the lamb, bleating feebly from the box, all tucked up in the nest she had made with the family heirloom curtains.

  “I’m sorry, little lamb. I promise I’ll bring you home something to eat. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  She hurried away to clean up so she could drive Rowena into town.

  * * *

  Paula glanced anxiously at Rowena as they reached the outskirts of town. She had been shocked to see how ill the older woman looked when she’d arrived to collect her. Rowena had sat in a chair and directed Paula to the laundry to find the box of lamb feeding gear. Normally Rowena would have bustled about not letting Paula delve into the cupboards at all.

  Now, she sat in the car with her head back and her eyes shut. Every now and then she coughed a dry rasping cough. Pain lines etched in her face each time. Paula reluctantly asked for directions. She didn’t know where the doctor’s surgery was.

  When they pulled up, Rowena accepted her help to walk in. Paula left her with the young receptionist while she went off to find the stock agents to buy formula for the lamb and collect Dan’s list of items.

  She finished there quickly so she decided to call in at Dara’s and see what she could buy from her for lunches. By the look of Rowena she wouldn’t be doing much, and Paula didn’t want to let Dan down. She was determined to feed the shearers well.

  An hour had passed by the time she got back to the doctor’s surgery. Several other people sat in the surgery flipping through magazines. Paula was conscious of their gaze following her as she stepped up to the reception desk. There was no sign of Rowena.

  “Hello, Mrs Woodcroft.” The young receptionist spoke to Paula with a wary glance towards a door to the side. “Miss Woodcroft is waiting in the room next door.” Once more her gaze slid in that direction. “The doctor said he’d like to see you, Mrs Woodcroft.”

  “No need. I’ve just got a dose of the flu.” Rowena’s voice growled from the other room followed by a bout of coughing. One of the women sitting closest to Paula smirked, lifted her magazine higher and nudged the man next to her.

  “If you wouldn’t mind waiting, I’ll let Dr Hunter know you’re here.” The receptionist picked up the phone.

  “Thanks.”

  Paula entered the side room
. It contained a small desk with an eye chart hanging on the wall above it. There was little else but two chairs. Rowena was sitting on one of them tapping her foot

  “What did the doctor say?” Paula asked

  “I’ll live.”

  A door opened somewhere beyond reception, a murmur of voices came closer, and a small man of Chinese appearance stuck his head in the door.

  “Hello, you must be Dan’s wife,” he said.

  “Yes, I’m Paula.”

  “Lachlan Hunter.” He shook her hand. Paula thought he was perhaps not much older than her.

  Rowena had another spasm of coughing.

  Both Paula and the doctor looked at her.

  “I thought you said I needed to go to bed. I can’t if you two are chinwagging,” Rowena snapped as soon as she caught her breath.

  “Won’t be long, Miss Woodcroft.” The doctor smiled and ushered Paula into his office, indicating the chair beside his desk. This room was busy with furniture including an examination table, spare chairs and a bookcase full of medical books. There was one small window and all the walls were covered in charts of various parts of the human body.

  The doctor got straight to the point. “I know this is a big ask of you, Paula, but Rowena lives alone and I am concerned for her health. I would like her to be in care. She refuses to go to hospital and frankly at this stage there is nothing they can do for her there that can’t be done by someone at home. She needs bed rest, fluids and some TLC. She has a particularly nasty bug and there is little I can do for her unless it causes secondary problems that will respond to antibiotics. But I don’t think she should be alone at the moment.”

  “Of course not, Dan and I wouldn’t dream of it. She can come and stay with us until she’s well.” Paula was shocked by the doctor’s serious tone.

  “It’s a matter of keeping her temperature down and the pain at bay and seeing if anything develops. She’s a strong woman and she should shake it off. Trouble is you never know who will succumb to the flu. If the symptoms change or she gets any worse, let me know.”

  “We will.”

  He stood up. “Have you and Dan had your flu jabs?”