by Annie Seaton
Crazily, he’d always compared those girls to Lucy Bellamy, the girl he’d had a crush on all of high school. The girl who’d let him kiss her on her sixteenth birthday.
Then after her eighteenth birthday…
He lifted his beer and stared over the paddocks in the direction of Prickle Creek Farm.
Lucy Bellamy. That’s who was getting under his skin. But he wasn’t going to let it burrow any deeper. She’d go back to the city.
And I’ll be alone again.
Funny that she’d thought he was married with kids. It hadn’t seemed to have bothered her at all.
Maybe it was time the farmer took a wife.
Chapter Five
Lucy rose at daybreak and as soon as it was a decent hour she called Sebastian, full of glee that she could impart the news that Liam and Jemmy were on the way. It would be late afternoon before her cousins arrived, and the anticipation of being together again filled her with excitement. Gran was quiet as they buttered more scones and filled picnic baskets, and the food was ready when the first contractor appeared at the door just after nine o’clock.
“Woo-hoo, what have we here? Some new hired help, Mrs Peterkin?” The young man lifted the edge of the red-checkered cloth keeping the scones warm in the basket.
“Tommy Robinson, you get your hand away from those scones, and no, this is my granddaughter Lucy.” She slapped his hand away from the basket as he peered in at the scones. Lucy smiled back at the appreciative grin that came her way when he raised his eyes.
“I think I’ll volunteer for pick-up duty every day,” he said.
“Come on, hurry up,” Gran said. “The boys will be waiting for their cuppa.”
“See you later, love.” With a wink directed at Lucy, Tommy lifted the three loaded boxes and balanced them on one arm, and then picked up the small esky with the other. He turned to Gran with a wide smile. “You too, Mrs P. The boys are looking forward to this. You still take the prize for the best scones in the district.”
“Get away with you, boy. Flattery won’t work on me. Now, there’s butter and jam in that esky with the milk, along with some whipped cream,” Gran said firmly as she pointed to the small blue cooler, but Lucy noticed the flush that tinged her cheeks.
The morning raced by as Gran and Lucy prepared enough sandwiches to feed an army. Ten loaves of bread had thawed overnight, and two huge slabs of corned beef had simmered on the stove. Gran pulled out her show-winning pickles. As they cleaned up the kitchen after Tommy had collected the lunch, Lucy reached up and wiped away the perspiration that trickled down her neck. The dishwasher was loaded and running, and she was washing up the pots and pans in the sink.
“There’s no way you could have done this without help, Gran.”
“Why not? I’ve done it every other year since you all took off.” Her voice was dry, but there was an undercurrent of sadness that tugged at Lucy’s guilt.
“I’m a bit tired. I might go and have a lie-down after we finish here.” Alarm spiked through Lucy; Gran had always been snarky about people who needed a daytime nap. The day is for working, she’d always said.
“Just the Anzac bickies and the thermoses for smoko this afternoon?” Lucy asked casually. The smell of fresh-baked biscuits was making her hungry.
Gran nodded.
“I’ll do that.”
“That would be good.” Lucy’s guilt climbed higher. Not only was Pop unwell, she was starting to think there was something wrong with Gran, too.
“I think it’s time that you and Pop thought about hiring some more help, don’t you?”
Gran pursed her lips but wouldn’t be drawn into any conversation about the farm.
“I saw Garth Mackenzie at the dam when I went for my swim yesterday.” Lucy flickered a glance across as Gran plunged her hands into the hot soapy water again.
“My goodness, this water’s hot. Pass me a hand towel, Lucy.” By the time she’d wiped her hands, the strange look had left Gran’s face and Lucy wondered if she’d imagined it.
“What was that Mackenzie boy doing on our land?” Her tone was as hard as the words.
Lucy’s head flew up. “He was being friendly. Is there a problem?” Lucy stared at her grandmother. “And why is there a padlock on the back gate? I saw that last night.”
“Did you try to go over there?”
“I did, and I ended up going the long way around. Garth and I were good mates when we were at school. And you and the Mackenzies were best of friends. What’s happened?”
Gran sighed and hung the towel on the hook back on the sink. “Yes, we were. It all gets too hard sometimes. And yes, there is a problem, but I’m not going to discuss it with you. When the others are here, we’ll have a meeting.”
“A meeting? That’s a strange thing to call a family chat,” Lucy said.
“Pah! A family? We haven’t been that since— I have business to discuss with you all, and we’ll do it formally.”
Gran turned away and headed for the hall. “Tommy’ll be back for those sandwiches soon. Don’t go giving him any encouragement.”
“No, Gran. I’ll be a sour old battleaxe, too,” Lucy muttered beneath her breath. As much as she hated to admit it, Sebastian wasn’t far wrong. Gran had been hard and cold after her first welcoming greeting, and Lucy was beginning to feel like the hired help. Maybe coming out to Prickle Creek Farm hadn’t been such a good idea.
…
Garth lifted the bottom of his T-shirt and tugged it over his head before he threw it onto the bale of hay next to the wall. Sweat ran down his face as he stared at the motor in front of him. The pump at the dam that fed the major irrigation sprayers had given up the ghost, and he couldn’t spare the time to take it to town to get it fixed. He’d lifted the motor from the pump yesterday and sat it in the shed, thinking about the problem overnight. Now he narrowed his eyes and stared at it, remembering the pumps at the mine. On a few of his night shifts there, he’d watched the mechanics repair the equipment, and he’d often pitched in and passed tools to them.
He leaned over and unscrewed the arm at the back of the pump. It was bent; a grunt of satisfaction puffed from his chest. As much as he’d resented the time away from the farm, both at uni and at the mine where he’d worked as an engineer, those years away had contributed to his skill set back here on the farm. The cattle raising and the wheat growing were something he’d learned from Dad, but the education and the skills he’d picked up out in the world of work had made the time away worthwhile. He took the arm over to the workbench and hammered it until it was flat. He lifted it up and checked it was no longer bent, and walked back over to the motor. Leaning over, he carefully screwed it back onto the pump. Garth pulled the starter cord and grinned when the motor fired.
Damn, if only everything were that easy. Satisfaction flowed through him for a job well done. Solving little problems like that showed to him every day how much he loved being out here on the Mackenzie farm. He’d never told his parents, but the number of times he’d almost pulled out of uni and quit his job to come back home had been more frequent than he admitted.
But it was all worthwhile. In the last six months since he’d bought out his parents—the farm was his—he’d had a new farmhouse built, cattle prices were high, this year’s wheat harvest promised to be the best yet, and he was building the farm up into one of the best properties in the district. Never again would he have to leave the Pilliga Scrub and go back to working for someone else.
What was that Lee Kernaghan song he’d sung to cheer himself up when he didn’t think he could stand being away from home anymore? “Thank God I’m a Country Boy.” He sang as he put the tools away.
Chapter Six
Ralph stirred in his basket, and the outside dogs barked on the dirt driveway. Lucy jumped to her feet. She and Gran had been watching the five o’clock news together in the lounge, both tired after a big day of preparing meals and cleaning up. Lucy had been worried when Gran said she was too tired to drive into t
own to see Pop, but she had pointed out that Liam and Jemima would be here soon. Gran had nodded off, despite her long afternoon nap, and Lucy waited for her cousins and watched her grandmother as she dozed. The lines around her mouth were deeper, and there were dark shadows beneath her eyes. Tommy had collected the homemade beef pies and large saucepans of mash and peas before they’d sat down to watch the television for a much-needed break. The last round of sandwiches and fruit for the harvesters’ late supper was packed up and ready to be collected. All they had left for the day was to fill the coffee flasks that would keep the night shift going as they cut hay all night.
“Someone’s here.” Lucy crossed to the window and glanced over at Gran. The elderly woman lifted a handkerchief to her mouth before she pulled herself to her feet. She strode to the kitchen ahead of Lucy.
“Fool boy’s parked his motorbike on my lawn,” she muttered, and Lucy took a deep breath, feeling a measure of responsibility for talking Seb into coming. Next to Seb’s bike was a low-slung black sports car, splattered with red mud. As Lucy watched, Jemima uncoiled herself gracefully from the driver’s seat and despite the dusk light, dropped a huge pair of sunglasses over her eyes. A rush of emotion flooded Lucy as Liam opened the passenger door and stepped out of the car. She flew down the steps and launched herself at him. “Liam,” she choked out.
“Luce!” He picked her up and swung her around before enfolding her in a bear hug. “God, I’ve missed you, bub.”
Lucy’s eyes were wet with happy tears. She and Liam had always been the pair to lead the two younger cousins into trouble. Jemima walked around the back of the car, and Lucy was engulfed in a cloud of expensive perfume as Jemima brushed a couple of air kisses in her direction.
“Good to see you, Lucy.” She pointed a languid finger to the car. “Liam, see to my bags, will you.” She stepped back as one of the kelpies brushed past her. “Ergh. Look out, dog.”
Lucy looked over her shoulder. Seb was sitting on his bike, his helmet still covering his face. Gran was standing at the top of the steps, and Lucy’s eyes pricked with tears as she saw Gran’s knuckles, white and tense where she gripped the railing.
I’m always the peacemaker. She walked over to Seb and took his arm as he stepped off the bike.
“Come on, I’ll help you get through this,” she whispered. “You can do it. I’ve survived twenty-four hours.” She nodded to Liam and Jemima. “There’s safety in numbers.”
An hour later, despite the huge food preparation day, Gran had rustled up the obligatory family night baked dinner. Conversation around the dinner table was polite, if stilted. The boys stacked the dishwasher while Gran took a shower, and Jemima and Lucy sat together out on the verandah. The only light in the solid darkness of the night was the distant headlights of the headers moving up and down the paddocks in the distance. The bug zapper hissed and spat as suicidal insects threw themselves at the purple light.
The two men pulled up a chair each, and the silence was thick. Liam’s jaw was set, and Seb stared out into the dark.
“For goodness’ sake, you two. Would you stop circling each other like a pair of roosters? It’s awful.” Lucy stood with her hands on her hips. “What’s the problem?”
“Still a peacemaker, Luce?” Liam glanced over at Seb and held his hand out. “I guess that’s the first time we’ve ever done the dishes here without having a blue, hey cuz?”
Sadness lodged in Lucy’s chest. Where was the happy camaraderie they used to share? How could they get that back again? Was it too late now that they all had their own lives? If this was what being an adult was like, she didn’t like it at all. Suddenly an unbidden image of Garth Mackenzie filled her thoughts, and she let the warm feeling settle. Thinking about Garth made her feel much better.
They sat there quietly as they waited for Gran to appear.
“I’m going to check on her. She’s been an awfully long time.” Lucy walked along the hall towards the bedrooms just as Gran closed her bedroom door and stepped into the hall. Lucy was hit with a waft of Lily of the Valley talcum powder, and nostalgia flooded through her. She and Jemmy had always been allowed to borrow Gran’s talc when they were little girls. Gran caught her eye as she held her floral brunch coat tightly across her thin chest, but her mouth was set, and she was very pale.
“Are you right, Gran?” Lucy took her arm and noticed how cold her skin was. “You’re not sick, are you?”
“No. I’m fine. Just a bit het-up.”
That was a big admission from Gran, and Lucy held her arm as they walked out to the back verandah. She smiled when the boys stood until Gran sat down. They might be a pair of tough guys, but they remembered the manners that had been drilled into them all.
Liam sat back down and leaned forward with his hands dangling between his knees. Seb leaned back and kept his gaze out on the now-dark paddocks. Jemima folded her hands in her lap as Lucy sat beside Gran. The silence was broken only by the distant sound of the headers in the far paddocks until Lucy cleared her throat.
“So. Looks like we’re all here and ready to listen, Gran.” Lucy kept her tone bright to cover the trepidation grabbing her chest. Was one of the grandparents ill? Were they in financial trouble? A dozen scenarios flashed through her head as Gran cleared her throat.
“Thank you all for coming out. I appreciate it.” She nodded to Liam. “Especially you, Liam, from halfway across the world.”
Lucy ignored Seb’s muffled snort as Liam held Gran’s eye. He was the eldest grandchild, and he and Gran had always been close.
“We’ve not done right as a family. Tragedy dragged us apart, and we all dealt with it in our own ways. Losing our three girls”—Gran’s voice was strong without a flicker of emotion—“almost destroyed Harry and me, but we’ve been remiss in letting you four go your own ways and losing touch with the land.”
She held up a hand before any of them could speak. “Oh, I know you’ve made your own lives and you are all doing well, but it’s time to decide what the future holds.” Drawing herself up in the chair, Gran straightened her shoulders as she looked from one to the other. “This property has been in our family for one hundred and fifty years, and the thought of it not being handed down to family is breaking your grandfather’s heart. And mine, but if that is the way it has to be, so be it.”
“Gran.”
Again, she held up a hand as Liam and Lucy both tried to interrupt. “Wait, you’ll all have your turn to speak in a moment.”
Taking a deep breath, she looked past them. “While your grandfather is in hospital, I want a decision made. So when he comes home, it is a done deal. He doesn’t need to know that I started it. As far as he knows, it is going to be your idea, Liam.”
Seb caught Lucy’s eye, and his face was set. “Okay, Gran. Cut to the chase. What do you want from us?”
Surprisingly, her eyes were warm as she turned to Seb, the youngest of the four. “I want to know how strongly you feel about the future of Prickle Creek Farm. How much connection each of you has to our family land. Oh, I know it’s been a while since any of you have been out here, but it’s time to put that aside. We’ll always grieve for your mothers, but it’s time to move on and think of the future. We’re not going to be here forever. You’re the generation to make the decision. You four are the future of Prickle Creek Farm.” Her eyes were clear and bright, and her voice was brisk.
Lucy was filled with admiration for her. Gran was one strong woman. “What decision, Gran?” She couldn’t help the worry creeping into her voice.
Their grandmother turned to look at each of them in turn. “I want to hear what each of you would have to say if I said I had an offer to buy the farm.”
A cold feeling ran through Lucy’s chest. “You’re going to sell it?” she said with a frown.
“No!” Seb jumped to his feet. “You can’t sell.”
Lucy didn’t miss the fleeting smile that crossed Gran’s face as she looked at Seb and then turned to Liam. “Liam?”
&n
bsp; Liam dropped his gaze to the floor, and Lucy waited with bated breath until he lifted his head. “I’d hate to see the farm leave our family.”
A quick nod from Gran as she turned to Jemima. “Jemmy, what do you say?”
“No. You can’t sell it.” Jemima’s face was set in a stubborn frown as she folded her arms.
Finally Gran turned to Lucy. “You probably need to know that it’s Garth Mackenzie who’s offered to buy it.”
Lucy’s mouth dropped open. Now she knew why Garth wouldn’t come over here for a visit. He wanted to buy the farm? She didn’t know how she felt about that. Knowing the Garth of old, surely it would be to help them out, but now she wasn’t so sure. A lot of time had passed since then, and now as a landowner himself, maybe he wanted to expand his own property. The fact that he hadn’t mentioned it last night made her cross.
Gran’s face was set, and she stared at Lucy. “So, Lucy? What say you?”
Confusion filled her, and she shook her head. “Honestly? I don’t know.”
Her grandmother’s face creased in disappointment, and Lucy rushed on. “I do know I would hate to see the property go out of the family. You’re right, it would break Pop’s heart, but I’m being realistic here. If you do keep it, how are you both going to look after it?”
Gran smiled and stood. “I’ve heard what I wanted to hear. Now I want you all to consider something, and you don’t need me around to do it. Harry and I have discussed this, and if you are all willing to agree, we’ll sign the property over to the four of you—equally—in one year’s time.
“But there are conditions attached. For the next year, each of you must spend at least three months living here, learning the ropes, and working the farm. If you’re not prepared to do that—all of you working together and agreeing to the plan—as much as the idea sticks in my throat, we’ll take up Mackenzie’s offer.” She smoothed her hands down her sides and turned to the door. “I’ll bid you all good night and see you in the morning. Bright and early please. There’s work to be done.”
