Down Outback Roads (9 page)

He nodded and closed his eyes.

Her hand sought his. For a second he resisted her touch, but the warmth of her skin melted his resolve. His fingers entwined with hers. The sound of his laboured breathing merged with her shallow, gentle breaths.

His eyes opened and he stared at the sprinkle of stars above them. In the darkness, it was as though they existed in an alternate world where there was no pain, no guilt, no grief. Only hope and redemption. He spoke before the light of the stars would ebb.

‘I was the one who killed him.’

‘I can’t believe that,’ Kree said, her reply barely louder than a whisper.

She’d only known Ewan for a fortnight, but it wasn’t possible for this good and decent man to have killed anyone. Such a truth pounded in every beat of her heart. Whatever happened to his brother, Ewan wasn’t to blame.

‘You’d better believe it, because it’s true.’

‘I know you. I know you’ve devoted your life to taking care of your brother’s family. I know you dropped everything to search for a kid who was a stranger.’

Ewan pulled his hand from hers and folded his arms. Even in the poor light, she could see the hunched set to his shoulders.

‘Guilt has a way of motivating a man.’

‘Rubbish. Guilt doesn’t keep you holding an injured Darby until his tears have dried. Guilt doesn’t make you wrestle Braye until you both fall on the floor laughing. Guilt doesn’t wake you at two in the morning after three hours of sleep to take another shift as a spotter in Travis’s plane. Ewan, whatever happened, it couldn’t have been your fault.’

He swung away. ‘You know nothing.’

She grabbed his hand again. ‘Then tell me.’

He went to tug his fingers free but she held on tight. ‘Tell. Me.’

From somewhere near her feet, Whiskey whined. Kree spoke without taking her eyes from Ewan’s set and shadowed face. ‘It’s okay, Whiskey. Ewan’s not going anywhere until he talks. If he moves a muscle, you have permission to do whatever you do when you round up a stubborn old cow.’

The tension in Ewan’s hand eased slightly. ‘Are you sicking my own dog onto me?’

‘Absolutely.’

‘Did you also call me a stubborn old cow?’

‘Yes, but I apologise for getting the gender wrong.’

‘Well, that’s something.’

Silence wrapped around them, only broken by the rhythmic clop of hooves as the neglected stock horses wandered away.

Ewan sighed. A slow and deep sound. ‘Okay. If you relax the death-grip on my hand so I can feel my fingers, I’ll … talk.’

She loosened her grasp but didn’t completely release his hand.

‘I guess you want the whole story?’ Ewan’s raw words sounded like they’d emerged from a dank and dark space where only misery resided.

‘Yes, please.’

She caught the brief gleam of his almost-smile. ‘You’re so polite when you’re not being a control freak.’

She remained silent. Small talk was his way of delaying the inevitable.

A tremor passed through his fingers and she knew he’d found the courage to start.

‘It was harvest time. I’d worked around the clock to get the wheat off before the forecasted rain arrived. All I wanted to do was sleep but Fergus … had other plans. He’d always liked having a beer, but after the twins were born his big nights out became more regular. That night, he and Tish had had words about his drinking. He was in a mood, and to stop Tish worrying he’d drive home drunk again, I took his ute keys and said I’d take him. I chatted to Bill and managed a couple of hours sleep in his back room while Fergus drank with his mates. Then the wind picked up and we had to go.’

Ewan paused and Kree brushed her thumb across the back of his hand. When he spoke again, his voice had thickened. ‘I’d safely driven the way home before, even when tired and in heavy rain. But as I drove around the blind corner … I didn’t see the hazard lights flashing on the header pulled over to the side until it was too late. Even without the comb trailer on the back, the header was too wide to avoid. We clipped the side and the ute rolled –’

Ewan’s grief-stricken rasp let Kree know he had no more words.

Tears banked behind her eyelids. She, too, had no words. She touched his whisker-roughened cheek. Beneath her palm, his skin was as cold as her parents’ gravestones. She had to speak, to bring him back to life.

‘You yourself told me accidents happen, and that’s what this was – a tragic accident. You had nothing to do with the header being where it was, or with the rain that made it hard to see. You might have been driving, but what happened
wasn’t your fault
.’

Even before his fingers slipped from hers and he turned
his face away, she knew he hadn’t heeded her words. Head bowed, he strode into the darkness, Whiskey following.

How difficult was it to dial Travis’s number?

Tish examined her unsteady hand with a frown. If she wasn’t careful, she’d press the wrong number and her nervous, heavy breaths would disturb some stranger. She settled herself more comfortably on the cushioned kitchen chair.

Relax.

She checked the kitchen clock. Thanks to Ewan’s airseeder problems, Travis would have a day or so head start on sowing. But he should be in from the paddocks now. She listened for Kree or Ewan’s footsteps, but only the cheerful night chorus of crickets sounded. The machinery shed light might be off, but when she’d gone outside to fill the dogs’ water bowl, she’d caught snatches of muffled talk from near the stables. Kree and Ewan would still be outside. She’d be safe to call. Now she just had to be brave enough.

She held her breath and carefully dialled Travis’s number. Just when she thought he wouldn’t answer, his deep voice rumbled down the landline, ‘Travis Sullivan.’

For a heart-stopping second, she thought her mouth wouldn’t move. ‘Hi, Trav, it’s Tish.’

‘Are you and the boys okay?’

The urgency of his question brought a heated rush of emotion to her face. Despite the years of silence, their friendship hadn’t totally disintegrated.

‘We’re fine, it’s Ewan.’

‘What’s he done? He hasn’t injured himself fixing the airseeder? That pride of his will turn me grey. I knew I shouldn’t have let him talk me out of helping.’

‘No, nothing’s happened to him. Well, yet anyway. It’s just, he’s smitten with Kree and I don’t want him to mess things up. You know what he’s like. He bottles everything inside and refuses to say how he feels.’

Travis chuckled. ‘He sure has fallen for Kree, if you and I both think he has. He’s usually the master at hiding his feelings.’

Sudden warm tears prickled behind her eyelids. It felt like a lifetime since Travis’s rich laughter had crept through her like the sun’s rays across a dawn sky. ‘So, you noticed, too?’

‘Put it this way, it’s a bit hard to miss Ewan’s jaw dropping to the ground when a woman smiles at him. Usually it’s the other way around.’

‘So, I haven’t imagined things.’

‘No, you haven’t. And to be honest, I’ve already done a little meddling. I agreed to Kree’s pot roast dinner so they could see each other. Ewan wasn’t keen to go at all.’

‘See, that’s exactly what I’m talking about. He should go, he needs to let himself have fun.’

‘True. But we both know what he’s like. We also know he still blames himself for what happened to Fergus and doesn’t believe he deserves to be happy.’

‘I know. I’m worried he’ll push Kree away for that reason. Well, that’s if she feels anything for him. I don’t know her very well, but I think perhaps she does.’ Tish recalled Kree’s intense expression as she’d stared at Ewan across the pool. ‘There’s something about the way she looks at him.’

‘I guess the next question is, can the Aussie and American thing work?’

‘If they ever fess up to each other, I’m sure there’s a way it could. I get the impression Kree loves being here and she’s
definitely single. At dinner the other night, she said it would be a brave man who’d take her and Seth on.’

‘Ewan’s the bravest man I know.’

‘And the most stubborn.’

‘Tell me about it. All we can do is try to keep her at Marellen as long as possible. Once she’s at Berridale, Ewan will retreat behind that wall of his and not even a front-end loader will be able to get him out.’

‘He’s already swimming.’

Travis sighed. ‘That’s not a good sign. Does Kree know about the accident?’

‘No.’

‘She’ll have to find out for there to be any sort of relationship between them, but let’s hope it’s later rather than sooner.’

‘I agree. Otherwise Ewan will shut down and even the boys mightn’t be able to get him back.’ Tish couldn’t keep her concern from quivering in her voice.

‘Don’t worry, we won’t let that happen. I’ll help keep an eye on him.’

‘Thanks, Trav. I’ll keep you in the loop.’

‘No worries.’

‘Night.’

‘Night. And Tish … thanks for calling. It’s been too long.’

She could hear the shy smile in his words, imagine his hazel eyes crinkling at the corners and his light-brown hair sticking up where he’d run his hand through the front while thinking. For a moment, it was as though the years of loneliness and loss had rewound. She ended the call and hugged the phone to her chest. Marellen’s financial woes, and the pressure from her mother to return to Sydney, suddenly didn’t feel as oppressive. She was talking to Travis. A light again glimmered in her world.

For the first time in his farming life, Ewan wasn’t grateful for technology. He scowled at the GPS screen to his right and tapped his thumbs on the now-obsolete tractor steering wheel. With the GPS driving the tractor, he’d normally be happy to monitor the dashboard instruments and make some calls. But this morning all he needed was something physical to do. He’d swum pre-dawn laps until the drag of fatigue had numbed him. But now adrenalin recharged his muscles and his inactivity was sending him stir-crazy. Even the hypnotic hum of the powerful tractor engine failed to soothe him.

He rolled his locked shoulders. And it wasn’t even lunch.

At least he’d be spared from seeing Kree while he remained in the tractor. The only saving grace of last night’s emotional train wreck was he could guarantee she’d not be coming for her promised paddock run.

And he didn’t blame her. She’d tried to help and all he’d done was bolt like a spooked brumby through a broken fence. She deserved more than being left alone in the darkness. He’d wanted to believe her conviction that he wasn’t to blame for
killing his brother, but his guilt had shouted louder than her impassioned words. He couldn’t have stood there a second more. His flight response had been too strong. The alternate world he’d been so desperate to believe in was a delusion. In the brutal light of day, there was no hope or redemption. Just confusion, regret and unrelenting pain.

If Kathleen hadn’t contacted Don by dinner, Ewan would make an executive decision and select a pump himself. Kree had to return to Berridale. There could be no encore performance of last night. Ever. He couldn’t lower his guard again. He leaned forward to hit the radio dial. Perhaps if he filled the cabin with music and his mind with noise, he’d relax.

A figure near the paddock gate waved at him. Ewan returned the gesture. Tish, dressed in her gardening clothes, had brought him lunch in a familiar small blue esky. He disengaged the GPS and slowed the tractor to a stop. But as the woman drew closer, sunlight glanced off the brown hair tumbling from beneath the wide-brimmed Akubra. His gut clenched. Kree. Not Tish.

He exhaled slowly and turned off the radio. He’d have to leave the safety of the tractor. It was either meet Kree outside and collect his lunch or have her vanilla scent infuse the cabin and taunt him long after she’d returned to the homestead.

He took his time climbing down the steps.

‘Hey,’ he said and no matter how he’d tried, the greeting emerged more strained than casual.

‘Hey,’ she replied as she stopped before him. A warm breeze tugged at her over-large shirt, giving him a glimpse of the smooth skin of her collarbone. His throat dried. Even dressed in a hessian sack, Kree would stir needs long denied. He should have stayed in the tractor.

‘Tish thought you might be hungry and like lunch early, as you skipped breakfast.’

‘Thanks.’ He reached out for the white-lidded esky, but she didn’t pass it to him.

She showed him a black rectangular shape clasped in her left hand. ‘I also brought my camera to record my inaugural tractor ride.’

‘Tractor ride?’ He searched her face. ‘You still want to come?’

She might be acting as though last night hadn’t changed things between them, but he wasn’t the only person who hadn’t slept. Purple bruises underscored her eyes.

‘Why wouldn’t I?’ she asked, her smile sunflower bright.

Before he could reply, she continued speaking. ‘So how do we do this? Do I get into the tractor first or do you?’

The stubborn set to her chin told him she was coming with him whether he liked it or not. The sooner he took her for a ride, the sooner he’d be alone.

‘I’ll get in first.’ He again held out his hand for the esky and this time she handed it to him.

‘Tish did say to tell you all the lamingtons in there aren’t just for you.’

Kree’s teasing tone gave him hope that letting her into the tractor cab wasn’t the dumbest thing he’d ever done. The dumbest thing aside from talking to her last night, that is.

He re-entered the cabin and set the esky on the floor. She followed him and sat in the smaller trainer’s chair to his left. She took off Tish’s hat and stowed it at her feet. He clenched his teeth as her subtle scent suffused the cosy space. He’d take his cue from Kree and keep things up-beat and breezy between them. And then, just maybe, he’d survive
having her within kissing distance for the next sweep of the paddock.

‘Nice shirt,’ he commented without glancing towards her.

‘Thanks. I was supposed to buy more clothes in town yesterday, but as you know, I got sidetracked. Tish was kind enough to lend me this shirt. Apparently it was yours?’

Ewan nodded, keeping his attention on the GPS screen. In the small space of the tractor cab Kree would have access to his every expression and thought. He couldn’t trust his face to not reveal just how well she filled out his old shirt.

‘I’m heading to Glenalla again tomorrow,’ she added. ‘Tish said she and the boys would come too. Darby has promised to help me choose my own Akubra and Braye says I need a whopping big belt-buckle with lots of bling.’

Despite himself, Ewan chuckled. ‘Good luck with that. I’ve taken the boys to Dubbo to give Tish a break. I overdosed on fast food, earned a degree in negotiation and still came back with things the boys insisted we needed.’

‘Fingers crossed Beth and her lolly-store stash will give me an edge when it comes time to negotiate.’ Kree raised her camera towards the windscreen, checked the digital screen and pressed record. ‘So, what are we sowing today, Farmer Ewan?’

The drive across the large paddock as they sowed the next row of canola surprisingly didn’t take long. Between answering Kree’s questions and explaining what the various dashboard instruments controlled, it almost felt like the run had ended too soon when Kree lowered the camera.

‘Thanks. That was great. Seth will love his personal sowing clip.’

Ewan slowed the heavy tractor’s pace as the double gates loomed on his right. ‘No problem. See, I was telling the truth about the GPS driving.’

She laughed. ‘Not that I doubted you, but you do still need to keep an eye on what is happening and can’t totally switch off to read a newspaper.’

Ewan pulled to a stop but Kree made no move to collect her hat from where it sat near her feet. ‘So, when are you eating lunch?’ she asked.

‘Lunch? I hadn’t really thought. Maybe now?’

‘Perfect. I’ll stay for another row. I can hear my lamingtons calling.’

Ewan assessed her innocent expression. Had Kree planned this? He frowned. Even if she had, he had little choice but to set the tractor in motion. He couldn’t forcibly remove her from the cabin.

‘Okay. Another row it is,’ he said, keeping his voice even. ‘What did Tish send for lunch?’

Kree reached for the esky on the cabin floor and lifted it onto her lap. She took out a ham and salad roll, removed its plastic wrap and handed it to him.

‘Thanks,’ he said without looking at her. The briefest brush of her fingers against his sent his blood pressure sky-high. The second drive across the wide paddock as the airseeder sowed another row was going to take forever.

He ate in silence. Kree made no attempt to eat any of the lamingtons from the container in the chilled esky.

‘Ewan …’

He braced himself. Her serious tone left him in no doubt Kree had indeed planned to stay in the cabin longer.

‘We need to finish last night’s conversation.’

The sweetness of the tomato relish on his salad roll tasted like ashes in his mouth. He took a long drink from the water bottle beside him before answering. ‘No, we don’t, Kree.’

‘Yes, we do, but this time the conversation’s about me.’ She gave a small but sad smile. ‘Don’t worry, I’m doing the talking. You don’t have to do anything but listen.’

Determination fired in the steady gaze that met his. There was something Kree had to say and she hadn’t engineered this meeting to now leave without doing so.

‘Deal.’

‘Here goes.’ She drew a breath. ‘It was the winter of Seth’s twelfth birthday. Mum … was no longer with us, and we’d moved from the foothills to the mountains where my parents had spent many happy summers painting. I think by being at Elk Falls, Dad felt like Mum was still somehow with us. But living at such a high altitude meant we got a lot of winter snow, and that winter the falls were particularly heavy.’

Kree stared forward as though lost in another time and place. Ewan stayed quiet, giving her the space to talk. The pained press of her lips indicated there was far more to her story than winter weather.

‘We’d had a bad blizzard. The snowplough had passed our house but not the sanding truck, so the driving conditions were still dangerous. Dad was worried a car could slip off the road so when he went to shovel snow off our driveway, he told me to keep Seth inside. In many ways Seth is like Braye, and prefers being outdoors. And, as you know, he is impulsive. So, after being cooped up inside for days, he wasn’t happy.’

Ewan disregarded the double gates as they passed. Their second row had finished but it was more important for Kree to finish her story than for him to reclaim his solitude.

‘I should have known Seth would sneak outside and not tell Dad he was there.’ The delicate skin of Kree’s throat rippled as she swallowed. ‘But what I didn’t know was a car would slide off the road and head straight towards where he was building a snowman on the sidewalk.’

Ewan’s hand closed over Kree’s slender shoulder. The silken weight of her hair brushed his wrist as she turned her head towards him. Anguish pinched her face. ‘My father realised Seth was outside and in the path of the car. He raced over to push him out of the way but … there was no one to push him.’

‘Kree …’ Ewan squeezed her shoulder, knowing words would prove inadequate.

‘Even though the car leaving the road was an accident, I was convinced if Seth hadn’t been on the sidewalk, my father wouldn’t have lost his life saving him. For a long time, I blamed myself for my father’s death.’

Ewan carefully lifted his hand from Kree’s shoulder. He now knew where the conversation was headed.

Kree’s dull eyes met his. ‘I’m telling you all this, Ewan, because I want to show you life moves on, whether we like it or not, without the people we love in it. And part of life moving on is us letting go of guilt – accepting our loss and realising if we’d done things differently our loved ones still wouldn’t be with us. Even if Seth had stayed inside, the car would have slid along the sidewalk towards my father. The shovel he’d dropped where he’d been standing ended up beneath the engine.’

‘I know I’m only supposed to listen, and I do appreciate you trying to help.’ Ewan spoke through stiff lips. ‘I know how painful it is to talk about the past, but our situations just
aren’t the same. You lost your father to a freakish and tragic accident. I lost my brother because my reflexes were too slow.’

‘Our situations are the same. We both aren’t to blame. You lost your brother because of the choices he made, not because of anything you did or didn’t do. He went to the pub, despite his wife’s protests and despite a storm approaching and when there, drank too much to drive himself home.’ Kree swivelled in her chair to face him. Emotion deepened the pink hue of her lips. ‘His selfishness put you both on that road.’

Shock at Kree’s words flared like a struck match, burning its way through his self-control.

‘Don’t talk about Fergus like that.’

‘Why? Because it’s the truth?’

Ewan braked the tractor to a shuddering stop and clamped his hands around the steering wheel. ‘No, because he’s not here to defend himself.’

Kree’s voice lowered. ‘And if he was here, what would he say? That he could do what he wanted?’

Ewan shook his head but even as he did so he knew Kree spoke the truth. Damn her perceptiveness. She hadn’t met his brother and yet she’d said almost the exact words Fergus would use to justify his actions. Fergus’s twin sister, Sarah, had died at birth and his mother had never recovered from the loss. She clung to Fergus and all his life had treated him as extra-special. The rules that applied to Ewan hadn’t ever applied to his charming and irresponsible sibling. But it didn’t matter if Kree was right, that Fergus had believed the world revolved around him. Ewan had been driving when the ute hit the brokendown header. He was the person responsible for the ute rolling.

And he was the one to live.