Down Outback Roads (3 page)

Ewan leaned his shoulder against the doorframe of the twins’ bedroom. He’d come in from the paddocks, had a quick shower and was now helping Tish put the boys to bed.

Braye waved at him with both arms and pulled his ‘wrestle me’ face. Ewan caught his own grin before it made it to his lips and shook his head. Any sign of amusement and Braye would boomerang out of the bed Tish had spent ten minutes getting him into. If the five-year-old didn’t need a last drink of water, he needed his favourite bear or his second favourite bear or the toy tractor he’d left downstairs. In contrast, Darby already lay in bed, the covers neatly arranged beneath his chin and his own bear nestled in the crook of his small arm.

Tish bent to tuck Braye’s handmade quilt in around him and Ewan took advantage of the diversion to wink at Darby, who winked their special wink in return. Darby might be reluctant to use his words, but he had no such trouble with non-verbal communication.

Beneath his crossed arms, Ewan could feel the heightened thump of his heart. God he loved the boys. Their energy,
exuberance and tight hugs had anchored him through the turbulence of the past three years. Too tired to feel, too busy to think, he’d devoted his life to caring for his brother’s children, and in return they’d given him a reason to get on with living.

Tish straightened after kissing Darby’s cheek and, with her eyes on the now-still Braye, walked towards the door to flick off the light. The golden glow from the hallway spilled into the room, decorated in a green-and-red tractor theme. Tish hovered just outside as Ewan completed the nightly ritual.

He unfolded his arms and pushed away from the doorframe to head towards Braye’s bedside. For all his resistance, Braye was always asleep first. It wasn’t any wonder, with the amount of energy he expended during the day. Ewan pressed a kiss to Braye’s smooth forehead and received a mumbled ‘Love you’.

Then he made his way across to Darby, careful to not trip over the cars parked in rows on the road-printed mat that separated the beds. Darby gazed at him in the gloom with large, unblinking eyes. Ewan faltered. Emotion sucked and dragged at him like a deep-sea current. He forced himself forwards.

Ewan had to ensure Darby, Braye and Tish always had a home. He had to provide for them financially and leave a legacy not crippled by debt. The size of Marellen might ensure he was asset rich, but the drought had guaranteed he was cash poor. He needed to find a way to make the struggling, historic property commercially viable again.

Ewan kissed Darby’s warm forehead. Tish must have washed his hair, because he smelled of green apples.

‘Lub you.’

‘Love you, too, Darbster,’ he said, throat raw.

Slowly he straightened and used the dim light to compose himself. He couldn’t let Tish witness his strain. She worried far too much. Their money problems weren’t her concern or responsibility nor her wealthy family’s. He joined her in the hallway and turned for a last look at the boys.

Tish laughed quietly. ‘Is it me or is Braye starting to out-think me? He has an answer for everything.’

Ewan motioned for her to lead the way to the kitchen. ‘I see an illustrious law career ahead.’

‘Great,’ Tish said over her shoulder. ‘I won’t tell my mother or she’ll be booking him into law school. She’s desperate for someone to continue the family tradition.’

The shrill shriek of the kitchen’s smoke alarm pierced the night-time silence.

‘You’re
kiddin
g,’ Tish said, dragging her hands through her fine, pale-blonde hair. ‘And after I’ve been going so well.’

She sprinted along the hallway, the navy men’s shirt she wore for gardening billowing behind her.

Ewan didn’t hurry, knowing there would be no fire – only a charred dinner. When Tish and the two-year-old twins had moved into the main homestead she’d insisted on taking over the cooking. But between caring for the boys and gardening, she often left a pot to boil for too long or opened the steamy dishwasher too early. The call of the smoke alarm had become such a regular occurrence the boys no longer even stirred in their sleep.

The insistent screech suddenly stopped and the acrid smell of burnt milk drifted his way. He ignored the rumble of his stomach. If dinner was ruined, he’d scramble them some eggs. It wouldn’t matter what they ate, the conversation he’d been avoiding would still happen.

When he’d returned from Dubbo yesterday, he’d checked the bore in the back paddock. Today he’d kept himself away from the house by fixing the broken fence on the western boundary. The unspoken questions and curiosity in Tish’s eyes wouldn’t have faded. She’d want to know about the Dubbo trip and especially about the mysterious American woman. But as much as he loved his sister-in-law like a real sister, he wasn’t ready to talk to her about Kree.

His fear of seeing Kree at the hospital when visiting Seth had proved unfounded. Since their farewell at the command post, he’d kidded himself he could slot back into his regular life, thoughts of her the last thing on his mind. But it made no difference how physically hard he worked, or how late he stayed awake, he couldn’t blank out the memory of the sweetness of her smile or the joy in her laughter. He had to resist the pull she wielded on him. It didn’t matter how much longer she’d be staying in Australia or on neighbouring Berridale, he’d never be worthy of a woman like her – not after what he’d done.

Tish appeared at the kitchen door. Cheeks flushed, she cast him an apologetic smile. ‘It’s safe to come in. I’d left the white sauce for the lasagne on the stovetop. I wish the elements would turn off after a certain time, like that iron you bought me.’

Ewan draped an arm across her slender shoulders and gave her a quick hug. ‘Don’t worry, we can have lasagne another night. The meat will go fine with toast, or else we can have eggs.’

‘Didn’t we have eggs last night?’

‘We can have them again. I’m so hungry I’d eat your scorched white sauce.’

Tish giggled and led the way into the kitchen that formed the heart of the house. When not filled with smoke, the generously sized room smelled of fresh bread, honey and lemons. Tish adored her vegetable garden and orchard. Home-grown produce always filled the fridge, and the fruit bowl always overflowed with fresh fruit. He knew the twins must have picked the last lot of oranges, as he’d found a misshapen orange on the lawn Braye had been using as an impromptu soccer ball.

Together, he and Tish set about making the scrambled eggs and toast. They ate in comfortable silence until Tish looked across the kitchen table, fork halfway to her mouth.

‘I’ve been meaning to ask you how your visit to Dubbo with Travis went. You must be enjoying having him around again.’

‘Yes, it took long enough but he’s finally come to his senses and realised there’s no place like western New South Wales. As for the fact that he’s bought the farm I grew up on, I couldn’t be happier.’ Ewan paused. ‘And the Dubbo trip went well. The part I needed in order to fix the airseeder’s hydraulic pump had arrived, and we called in at the hospital to see Seth.’

‘I hope he’s doing okay.’

‘He is. He’s thin and his arm’s pretty banged up, but considering he was pinned under a tree for almost two days, he’s lucky to be with us.’

Tish shuddered. ‘I can’t imagine how he or his sister must have suffered. I’m a mess when Braye stays hidden while we’re playing hide and seek.’

‘She must have been out of her mind, but I think keeping busy helped.’

‘Travis said she rarely left the command post.’

‘And when she did it was just to grab a couple of hours’ sleep at Amanda Butler’s.’

Tish’s green eyes met his. ‘Amanda called today about the poppy-seed dressing she wants me to make. She said the sister is stunning and will leave a few broken hearts behind.’

Ewan put down his fork and took his time to answer. Kree wasn’t his, and never would be, but that didn’t stop a stab of envy at the thought that she’d inevitably belong to someone else. ‘Stunning she may be, but she’s also leaving soon. Even if she wasn’t, she’s way out of our country-boys’ leagues.’

Even Travis?

Tish didn’t have to voice her query. Her concern Travis might have lost his shy heart to the beautiful stranger pinched her face.

‘Well, out of the league for some of us,’ Ewan continued with a reassuring smile. ‘Travis could have anyone he wants, but he’s married to his new farm. If you asked him what hair colour she had, he’d have no idea.’

Relief relaxed Tish’s features, but she didn’t resume eating.

‘What about you?’ she asked quietly. ‘Did you notice the colour of her hair?’

Ewan fought the surge of warmth he knew would appear as a dark flush and strove for casualness. ‘Actually, I did. It’s brown, the same as her brother’s.’ He toyed with his fork. ‘But she’s definitely way out of my league, so just as well I’m also married to my farm.’

Tish’s gaze lingered on his face before she resumed eating. ‘You and Travis are hopeless cases. There’s more to life than machinery and cattle.’ Her eyes sparkled. ‘One day, I’ll make
good on my threat to sign you up to an internet dating site. Maddy Palin is now engaged to that fellow she met on Rural Hearts.’

Ewan chuckled. ‘The world simply isn’t ready for two single rural romeos called Travis Sinclair and Ewan Mackenzie.’

Tish joined in with his laughter, but not before Ewan noticed the wistfulness wash across her face. No one had been happier than Tish when Travis had returned. Ewan had to do all that he could to create an opportunity for the old friends to catch up and say more than two words to each other. He knew that Kree’s intimate dinner party would provide the perfect venue, and he would have to be a fool not to take advantage of such an opportunity. No matter what his self-preservation might say.

‘Just to prove we’re not totally hopeless cases, Travis and I actually have a dinner invitation.’

Tish stopped chewing. ‘Dinner invitation?’

‘Yes, Kree promised us a pot roast to say thanks for helping find Seth.’

‘That’s nice. I know how hard you both searched for him. Are you going?’

Ewan passed a hand around the base of his neck. ‘To be honest, I wasn’t, but for some reason when I mentioned the invitation on the trip home yesterday, Travis thought it was a great idea. I haven’t said anything to Kree yet, mind you.’

Tish paired her knife and fork together on her plate, signalling she’d finished eating even though her plate wasn’t empty. ‘I think it’s a great idea, too. You’ll all have a fabulous night, I’m sure.’

She stood.

‘Tish,’ he said into the sudden quiet, ‘I told Travis I’d only agree to go if you came as well.’

Tish lowered herself into the wooden kitchen chair. ‘Me? But I don’t ever go out. Who would have the boys? Mrs Murphy won’t come back after Braye put salt in the sugar container.’

‘Can you blame him? She’d dosed them on cough medicine when they were perfectly well, to make them sleep.’ His voice roughened. ‘It’s not Braye’s fault it makes him hyperactive instead of sleepy. A cup of salty tea was the least of her worries after I’d finished with her.’

Ewan unclenched the fist he’d made at the memory of returning home from the Damn the Drought charity ball to find Darby asleep on the floor of his room and Braye having locked himself in the pantry.

Tish again stood. ‘Thanks for thinking of me, but I can’t go. I can’t leave the boys.’

Ewan stood too, his dinner also unfinished. The prospect of being near Kree had quashed his hunger. He’d volunteer to look after the boys himself but then Tish and Travis would twig that he’d noticed more about Kree than her hair colour. He couldn’t have either his best mate or sister-in-law be privy to the effect Kree had on him.

‘Yes, you can. Pru Knight would love to babysit them. She’s working at home to save money for university. She’s just down the road and has known them all their lives. The boys adore her. They’ll be fine.’

He collected both dinner plates and headed towards the sink. The way Tish pursed her lips suggested she was wavering.

‘I’m sure it won’t be a late night and Kree would appreciate having another woman for company. After all, having dinner with two rural romeos could be rather overwhelming.’

Tish’s giggle told him he’d won. But as he scraped their leftover dinners into a container to give to Whiskey and
Midget later, the tension between his shoulder blades told him his victory was a hollow one.

It wasn’t only Tish who’d soon be spending an intimate and cosy evening with Kree.

Tish wiped the granite bench beside the sink with slow, deliberate movements. Outside, Whiskey barked at a possum in the jacaranda tree, while inside the hum of the electric kettle filled the kitchen. Ewan had helped her wash the dishes and then headed to the library where she hoped he now slept on his leather recliner. She’d noticed the telltale black smudges beneath his eyes and heard the dawn creak of the floorboards as he’d padded along the hallway. She knew him well enough to know when he wasn’t sleeping. She could also tell when he was … blushing. She stopped wiping the bench. Not that she’d ever seen him blush, but when he’d talked about the American girl, definite colour had seeped across his cheekbones.

Tish glanced towards the door Ewan had recently disappeared through. He was one of the most decent and honourable men she knew and needed someone in his life besides her and the boys. Despite what he believed, he deserved to find happiness. He had to let go of the past and forgive himself. But he appeared oblivious to the fluttering of feminine eyelashes and immune to push-up bras and fake-tanned cleavage.

Sighing, she carefully lifted the sterilised bottles she’d prepared for her poppy-seed dressing, before wiping the bench below. She replaced the bottles and stared at their hourglass shapes. She mightn’t cook very well but she could create. And create she had. Her unique dressing, which only required measuring, had fast gained local notoriety. Amanda Butler had requested five bottles for friends and had offered to pay.

Tish rinsed out the dishcloth and draped it over the side of the washing-up rack. It might just be five bottles today but it could be ten tomorrow. Fergus had only ever drawn an income from the farm and when he’d died there had been, no nest egg in their bank account. He also hadn’t completed the paperwork for the life insurance she’d asked him to organise when she’d fallen pregnant. Somehow she needed to raise some money to help Ewan run the farm. She chewed the edge of a nail. She could ask her parents, but from experience she knew not a cent would be distributed unless there were conditions attached. And those conditions were always the same – come home.

She reached for the coffee canister and spooned instant coffee into two mugs. The pressure her mother exerted on her to return to the city had steadily increased. She wanted Tish home, not because she loved her only child, but because she couldn’t let her grandsons become ‘uncivilised’. Sure, the boys were getting close to the age when they would attend school, but the small, one-teacher school at Allington would suit them fine. And yes, they didn’t attend pre-school, let alone know their alphabet, but they enjoyed their monthly visits to the bush mobile that visited Allington Hall to provide a pre-school experience. It was important the boys grew up within the warmth of a close-knit community and in a place
where they could climb trees and get their hands dirty. For rarely speaking Darby, it was also crucial he remain surrounded by people who understood and didn’t judge him.

Tish flicked the kettle on again. She wasn’t going anywhere. She’d found out who she was in the red earth country beyond the kitchen window. She’d found a peace and self-acceptance she couldn’t have achieved in the privileged and glossy life her mother had planned. A wild and unruly pumpkin patch would simply never be allowed to take over the manicured garden of a Mosman mansion. Sure, she’d also discovered loss and pain out here, west of the Blue Mountains, but it was where she belonged. And where her sons belonged. The outback would also ice over before she took the boys away from Ewan. It would break his heart. The twins’ unconditional love had brought him back to life and there was no way she’d allow him to again disengage.

Fergus hadn’t been the only one who’d died that tragic summer night.

Kree set her near-empty teacup on the floorboards beside her. Perched on the verandah steps of the Tylers’ weatherboard farmhouse, she straightened her denim-clad legs so her bare feet could make the most of the sunshine.

She breathed in the floral scent of daphne in bloom and looked out over the bush view before her. Used to a backdrop of snow-capped mountains, it remained a novelty to be able to see until the landscape dropped below the blue horizon. Ewes and their white, newborn lambs idled beneath spreading gum trees and if she stared hard enough she could also make out the grey shapes of kangaroos. She’d already fallen in love with
the odd-looking animals with their doe-eyes and long tails that bounced when they hopped.

Her eyes closed as she wiggled her warm toes. Seth had arrived safely at Sally’s and from their long, daily phone calls she knew the trauma of his ordeal had faded. His survival story had had its fifteen seconds of media fame and journalists no longer called. He’d met some other American gappies and was out more often than he was in. Now, all she needed was to stop thinking about Ewan and life would be back under control.

China suddenly shattered on stone.

Her eyes flew open. ‘Freckle? Fudge? What mischief are you causing now?’

Freckle’s only answer was to leap onto her lap and press puppy kisses to her face. Fudge stood close to her shoulder and bleated. Ears ringing, Kree gently pushed the red-heeler pup away so she could collect the mug that now lay strewn on the pavers.

‘Okay, I get the message, break time’s over.’

After only ever drinking ice-tea, enjoying a hot tea for a morning smoko was an Aussie habit she would be taking home to Colorado. That and eating the small sponge cake squares covered in chocolate and rolled in coconut called lamingtons. Fudge bleated again. Kree eyed off her shiny little nose that was wet from where she’d stuck it into the last of the lukewarm tea.

‘So, you’re the culprit, Fudgy.’

Fudge stamped her tiny foot.

‘What’s wrong? You can’t be hungry. You drank twice your body weight in milk for breakfast.’

Kree checked playful Freckle wasn’t within tripping
distance and headed for the front door. She’d put the broken cup in the bin then see if any pink and grey galahs were visiting the claw-footed bath that served as a nearby paddock trough. So far this morning, no birds had come to drink, and she wanted to finish yesterday’s sketch.

As she opened the screen door, Fudge pushed past her legs and stormed down the hallway. Her smooth hooves slid on the polished floorboards.

‘I know you believe you’re more dog than goat, but you’re not allowed inside,’ Kree called after her. ‘As for you, Freckle, don’t you get any ideas –’

But Kree was too late. The pup wriggled between her feet and skittered after Fudge.

Kree propped the screen door open. ‘Right, you two, I’m coming in. You might think I’m a clueless human but I will outsmart you. You are going outside and in the meantime, don’t you dare piddle anywhere.’

She entered the kitchen and caught Fudge butting the potted fern Kree had recently watered, to get to the liquid in the saucer beneath.

‘Fudgy, are you thirsty? Is that why you tried to drink my tea?’

Kree exited via the back screen door and, sure enough, the stainless steel bowl the two animals drank from had been upended. ‘You guys,’ she reprimanded as the goat and pup skidded to a stop beside her.

She collected the bowl and went down the steps to the tap at her right. But as she drew near, she realised the rebellious drip that usually filled the large bowl positioned underneath had stopped. That bowl was also empty. She turned the heavy, steel tap and, as expected, no water gushed out.

A cow bellowed. Kree looked across the garden to the paddock where a cement trough stood. A cluster of cows hovered around its rectangular shape. Another cow bellowed. No wonder there weren’t any birds visiting the bath-trough this morning – there was no paddock water.

Kree filled Fudge and Freckle’s bowl from the kitchen tap. Thankfully, she still had inside water. She sat the full bowl on the back verandah, before heading to find the list of instructions Maureen had left. She scanned the page until she found the heading ‘water problems’. The words she didn’t want to see in Maureen’s neat handwriting were underlined. Call Ewan.

Just. Great.

She hadn’t recovered from Ewan’s phone call of two days ago. When she’d heard the deep timbre of his voice she’d forgotten to speak. And then, when he’d said he and Travis would like to accept her dinner offer, a strange sense of relief had flowed through her. A relief that soon dissipated when he asked if he could please bring an extra guest. The familiarity with which he’d said Tish’s name suggested the extra person was no random addition.

Even now, a hollow feeling of disappointment filled her stomach. Just because he didn’t wear a wedding ring, didn’t mean he wasn’t attached. After all, she knew farmers in Elk Falls who didn’t wear a ring for safety reasons when working around machinery. Everyone, Ewan included, deserved to be both understood and loved. And, if she was honest, she’d known that someone like Ewan had to be taken. His rare smile would have melted far more hearts than hers.

Kree sucked in a deep breath and dialled the number beside Ewan’s name. Two rings sounded before a cultured feminine voice answered, ‘Tish Mackenzie speaking.’

Kree’s heartbeat pounded in her ear.

Not girlfriend. Same last name. Not sister. Their accents were too dissimilar.

Wife.

Kree’s face heated. She’d spent the last week pining after a married man. That would teach her for being so out of control. How many lessons would it take for her to learn that to deal with life’s curve balls, she had to remain on task – taking care of Seth. No diversions. No distractions.

‘Hi, it’s Kree Garrett here,’ she managed. ‘I’m looking after the Tylers’ property next door and there’s a problem with the water. Maureen made a note to call Ewan if such a thing happened.’

‘No worries. You called at the perfect time. He’s heading past your front gate on the way to town.’ Kree could hear the smatter of muffled words as Tish put her hand over the phone receiver to relay Kree’s SOS. Tish’s polished, almost English-sounding voice again travelled down the landline. ‘He’ll be there in ten minutes.’ She paused. ‘I know you don’t know me but I just wanted to say how glad I was when Ewan told me your brother had been found.’

‘Thanks. He wouldn’t have been if it wasn’t for Ewan and the Glenalla community coming to his aid. We’re both so very grateful.’

‘There’s no place quite like Glenalla. It might be a small town, but it’s big on community spirit.’ Despite the unfamiliar accent, Kree had no trouble hearing the pride in Tish’s words. ‘Ewan said he’s leaving now, so he should be there soon.’

‘Great. I didn’t know cattle could be so noisy. I’ll go and open the front gate.’

True to Tish’s prediction, ten minutes later Ewan’s silver ute passed through the opened steel gate and stopped in front of her temporary home. As he settled his Akubra on his dark head before opening the driver’s side door, Kree gave herself a mental shake.
Married.

But as Ewan stood beside his car, his handsome face shadowed by his hat, the world around her receded. The cattle bellows quietened, the whup whup of Freckle’s tail against her shin faded and the voice urging her to stay in control subsided to a whisper. The bond she’d believed they’d forged while searching for Seth might be one-sided, but Ewan Mackenzie, married Ewan Mackenzie, affected Kree like her fiancé never had.

‘Having water problems, Kree?’ Ewan said with a guarded smile as he approached.

‘Yes. Sorry to interrupt your day.’ She fell into step beside him as they headed towards the house. ‘Murphy’s Law meant that something had to go wrong. I’d gotten Freckle and Fudge into a routine and things were going so well.’

Ewan stopped to pick up the wriggling red-heeler pup, who’d latched onto the hem of his jeans. ‘This rascal in a routine?’ Ewan moved his thumb away from Freckle’s sharp little teeth. ‘I’d like to see that.’

Kree touched a hand to Fudge’s head as the goat butted her knee, letting her know she felt left out. ‘Maybe the word “understanding” is more apt. The three of us have reached an understanding. I like my shoes to remain intact and they like to be pampered, fed and played with from dawn to dusk.’