Sundown Crossing (12 page)

‘Are you kidding? Look what you’ve done in New Zealand. Packed up stuff from Valley View, sold the furniture. Then you had to do the same at Christchurch. Kim and Su Lee are making you and Sam a welcome-home Vietnamese dinner tonight. Kim’s a great cook. The Loongs are in their caravan now and they love it.’ She added
confidentially, ‘I think it’s the first real home they’ve had, other than their parents’ dirt-floor farmhouse. Come and have a look at what we’ve done, then we’ll have a cup of tea and talk.’ She wiggled her eyebrows meaningfully, a habit she had when stressing a point. ‘So far it’s going well.’

‘The Stenmarks?’

Angie shrugged. ‘Haven’t heard a peep from them other than Paul passing on information that the word’s gone out to make things hard for us. I’ve been paying cash for most items because tradespeople won’t let Sundown Crossing run accounts.’

That made Carla sigh. ‘What reason do they give for that?’

‘That we’re untested, newcomers. The usual run-around. Rhein Schloss is a major power in the Valley, you know, but I can’t specifically prove that the Stenmarks are behind merchants being difficult.’

‘We should have expected it. Our presence and what we’re doing is an embarrassment to them.’ Carla’s reply was circumspect. ‘Let’s just hope that the money holds out.’

If Carla had been impressed with the entrance to the vineyard she was doubly impressed when shown how much work had been done to tidy up the vines, clean out the winery and, not only make the place look attractive, but a going concern. The garage-turned-into-an-office looked efficient, with three desks and filing cabinets, all second-hand,
and surprisingly, a computer and printer. Then Angie showed her the caravan where the Loongs now lived.

‘It took a while to find this. Paul helped. Took me around to inspect several.’

The caravan was huge, more than eight metres long and two-and-a-half metres wide, with a two-metre brushwood privacy fence. Kim and Su Lee had already planted a vegetable garden, and around the side stood Tran’s motorbike, covered by a canvas sheet.

‘All the equipment in the winery is in working order,’ Angie advised. ‘The engineer checked the various pieces of machinery. Old Otto did a good job keeping everything oiled and functioning. It’s ready to go after the harvest.’

Angie saved the viewing of the vines for last. So much work had been done that Carla’s eyes widened in amazement and admiration. Where there had been a tangled mess, one-third had been tidied and trimmed, and new trellises erected to support the vines. Four people, including Kim and Tran, were working along the rows, trimming, removing debris and erecting trellis supports as needed.

‘Some heavy rain slowed us down, but I’m guess-timating that the existing vines should be pruned in time and ready for spring pollinating,’ Angie said. ‘And beyond the creek I’ve a tractor clearing two more acres in which to plant new vines. That’s going to be an ongoing process for several months until all the land’s planted with
vines. That is,’ she repeated what Carla had said earlier, ‘if the money holds out.’

‘As soon as I’ve settled Sam into school, I’ll look for a teaching position. A little extra income should help. If we need more I’ll go to the bank.’

Angie shook her head and her expression became serious. ‘A loan is a last resort. I’d like to get on our feet without going into debt.’

Carla chuckled and draped her arm around Angie’s shoulders as she said in a fervent tone, ‘Amen to us achieving that.’

From his vantage point on a rise above the vineyard, and hidden by a stand of shrubs, Josh Aldrich used powerful binoculars to see what was happening at Sundown Crossing. Whether he approved or not, he was impressed by how much had been achieved in such a short time. Sundown Crossing. He liked the name Carla had chosen for her venture too, not that it would do her any good in the long run. She and that Angie might be ‘doing a lot of things’ to the vineyard but old Carl was determined to see his granddaughter fall flat on her face and, really, they were wasting their time and their money.

Sometimes he got the impression that the only thing that gave the old man a reason to get up in the morning was his old hatred and now he had the opportunity to renew his venom. Kind of a pity, that. Carla was something else. He didn’t think he was mistaken in detecting a certain lowkey admiration towards her from Luke either. He
shook his head as he watched the women looking at the vines. Carla was so much like the old man—it was damned uncanny. Same quick temper, same determination, same pigheadedness about doing what she considered right for her and her kid.

For several moments Josh’s mind wandered to the possibility of Carla being successful and fulfilling her father’s dream. Shit, that would really rub old Carl up the wrong way…But then, she was young, vital and he reckoned she was pretty smart except that she just didn’t understand or fear the might and will of the Stenmarks. Carl was a formidable opponent, and Lisel, well, she was capable of anything and, he had the inkling, that for reasons known only to her—perhaps her attachment to Luke—she also desperately wanted to see her niece fail.

But…what if by some quirk of fate Carla didn’t fail? What if she and Angie Dupayne succeeded and, just for the fun of thinking about it, what if old Carl let bygones be bygones and welcomed her into the family? That would put the cat amongst the pigeons, wouldn’t it! Hands in his trouser pockets he rocked back on his heels as he allowed his imagination free rein for several seconds. Old Carl would have a true blood heir for Rhein Schloss if that happened, and with Carla’s son being a male and the old man very traditional as far as inheriting went, the situation could become very interesting. For everyone at Stenhaus.

So, he reasoned, it would pay him to get on the right side of Carla Hunter. Personally, he’d rather get on top of her and show her what he was made of, but first things first. Win her friendship then he could go all out to get into her pants. Getting excited at the thought of it he licked his lips in anticipation. Geez! Yes, he liked that idea very much.

Carla was shopping in Nuriootpa. It was a glorious winter’s day. Blue sky, no clouds, mild, but Carla wasn’t in the mood to appreciate it. Her interview with the principal at the Nuriootpa High School had not been successful and depressingly, she believed she had exhausted all avenues to get work using her teaching credentials. Schools weren’t hiring, and there was a ‘pecking’ order for jobs such as hers which came from the State Education Department. As well, avenues for casual work in winter in and around the Barossa were minimal because most of it was tourist-orientated.

To make matters worse, she and Angie had reviewed their business plan last night and realised they’d spent more money than had been budgeted. Funds were starting to run low and there was still a lot of work needed at the vineyard to have it ready for spring. A wage, any kind of wage coming in, would help.

On the plus side, Sam had settled well into school. He and Su Lee went off in the school bus together every morning and Kim was thrilled
because her young sister was getting the opportunity to have the education she had missed out on. Carla didn’t know how they would have managed at the vineyard if it hadn’t been for the Loongs. Kim and Tran were conscientious and enthusiastic workers and were experienced. Angie only needed to tell them what to do once and they did it, working as hard as she and Angie did on the vines, often till the last trace of daylight disappeared.

Paul van Leeson came out of the hardware store with a cardboard box full of purchases as Carla walked by.

‘Carla. Hi!’ Paul said as he recognised her. He juggled the cardboard box to rest on one hip. ‘How’s it going?’

Since they’d moved into the cottage Paul had got into the habit of dropping in once or twice a week to see how improvements were progressing, but she hadn’t seen him for a month because he’d been working hard on an important project. Carla was annoyed with herself when a small but discernible thrill of pleasure ran through her at seeing him. ‘Thanks for asking. The vineyard’s going well.’ Idiot! There was no need to sound so formal. Paul was an easygoing, casual kind of man. Her self-annoyance increased when he grinned at her formality.

‘Have you time for a coffee?’

‘Of course. Thanks.’ It would have been mean-spirited of her to refuse, she told herself. They walked towards one of the many coffee
shops along the main road. It was the middle of the afternoon and the shop was almost deserted so they received prompt attention from the waitress.

As they sat opposite each other, Carla was conscious of his interested gaze at her businesslike appearance. She felt it necessary to explain. ‘I’ve been to the high school. An interview with the principal.’

‘And…?’

She grimaced. ‘Nothing available at the moment, though he took note of my details and address.’ Her expression was concerned. ‘I may have to look further afield for work.’

‘Finances getting tight?’ he asked intuitively as he stirred a spoonful of sugar into his mocha.

‘Our budget was based on knowing that it would be almost two-and-a-half years before we got an income from next summer’s harvest.’ She thought she could be honest with Paul because he had no vested interest in the vineyard. ‘Unhappily, we didn’t factor into it not being able to run accounts to slow the outgoing cash flow. Merchants, undoubtedly influenced by the Stenmarks, are insisting we pay cash for everything, which means we’re running through our funds faster than expected.’ She glanced at him, saw she had his interest then, oddly discomfited, her gaze dropped to her coffee cup. ‘That’s why I’m looking for work. An income to cover our living costs and the Loongs’s wages would make a difference.’

Paul nodded understandingly. ‘I’m sure it would. You know, I might be able to help you out in that regard.’

A shiver of hope ran through her. ‘You know someone who might need my kind of skills?’ She’d told him about her qualifications ages ago.

‘Sure do. At the moment I have a huge architectural project on the drawing board. Yesterday, Bill, my draughtsman, resigned. He wants to work in Adelaide to be close to his girlfriend who’s doing psychology at Adelaide Uni. Bad timing for me. It could take weeks to find someone suitable to take his place.’

‘Are you offering me a job?’ It was the last thing she had expected, and she wasn’t sure that working so closely with him would be a good thing but…

He smiled disarmingly at her. ‘I guess I am.’ His gaze was speculative yet non-threatening. ‘What do you say, Carla? Do you think we could work well together?’

Why didn’t she think working with Paul van Leeson would be a good thing? Because, for some curious, indefinable reason she chose not to dwell on, she found him and his warmth, his easygoing manner, even his helpfulness, emotionally unsettling.

‘Um, I don’t have any experience drawing building plans.’

He shrugged off the negative. ‘I’m sure you’ll pick it up in no time. You know the basics of technical drawing and that’s what’s important.’
His grey eyes gazed steadily at her. ‘But you might prefer to apply for positions at other schools so, if you like, just have a think about my offer.’

Carla was already giving his offer serious thought, and so far the positives outweighed the negatives. She needed work now! And the reality was that getting employment in a school was, at the moment, next to impossible. Besides, how hard could it be to work for Paul? She couldn’t imagine him being a hard taskmaster, and he’d previously told Angie and herself that he was often away from the office more than he was in it.

‘Well…if you think I can handle it.’ She paused, then made a rapid decision. ‘Yes, I’d like the job.’

‘Okay. Great.’ His long arm reached across the table to shake hands on the deal. ‘Could you start tomorrow morning? Bill can show you the ropes before he leaves.’

‘Of course.’

On the footpath outside the glass-windowed coffee shop on the way to his realty office, Luke Michaels was passing at the exact time Paul and Carla shook hands. His step faltered for a second when he saw them, then he continued on, keeping his features composed, the surprise in his eyes hidden by his sunglasses. Carla and Paul van Leeson shaking hands—on what? A deal, a business arrangement of some kind. The muscles in his stomach tightened with…what was it? Concern—or something else, something more
personal—maybe interest. God no, what was he thinking? He forced his thoughts back to the interesting conundrum of Paul and Carla being together. Was Rhein Schloss’s adversary planning to build something substantial at Krugerhoff, correction, Sundown Crossing? And if so, where was she getting the money? Through the unofficial Valley grapevine he knew she’d sold Valley View and the flat she had in Christchurch, and that Angie Dupayne’s funds, inherited from Rolfe, had all been rolled into one working account in the town’s National Bank.

Basil Coulthard, the bank’s manager, was happy to provide ‘information’ in exchange for several complimentary cases per month of Rhein Schloss quality wines. Basil would know if Carla and Angie had put in an application for a loan. His curiosity aroused, Luke crossed the street and headed for the National Bank and a chat with Basil.

‘
T
hat’s her,’ Frances Conrad whispered in her husband, Walt’s, ear as Carla passed by at the Winegrowers Association’s function for Valley winegrowers. The Association occasionally hosted a get-together for members, and present were owners of both large and small vineyards in the Barossa Valley, with representatives from several other States who deemed it good business to attend. They wanted to be seen and to rub shoulders with those in the Valley, and to get an overall view of how the wine business, nationally and internationally, was tracking.

‘She’s younger than I thought,’ Walt replied as he studied Carla.

‘Watch what people do, Walt,’ Frances’s tone was knowledgeable. ‘You’ve been over at Margaret River so you don’t know. The word’s gone out to squeeze her out of the Valley. Which means no one’s game to approach or to talk to
her or her partner, Angie. Both are being given the cold shoulder all over town.’

Walt’s husky grunt indicated his level of interest as he continued to study Carla, and Angie, who’d joined her. On the surface neither woman seemed overly concerned that other growers weren’t talking to them. The thick-set, almost rotund man with his moon-shaped face and features, asked, ‘Who told you that?’

‘Josh Aldrich, and others.’

‘So, she could need a friend or two,’ Walt mused, then mumbled on, half to himself, ‘There might be something in it for us, love, especially if Carl’s interested in her.’

‘Carl isn’t interested in her, even though she’s his own flesh and blood.’ Frances shook her head in amazement. ‘He wants her land, as he wanted and got ours. That’s why he wants to see her fail.’

‘Old bastard!’ Walt’s gaze narrowed, a flick of spittle flying onto his wife’s dress. ‘He enjoys destroying people, like he destroyed us.’

‘Almost
destroyed us,’ Frances corrected. ‘He might have taken our vineyard, our money and good name, but he couldn’t get our house in Angaston. Thank God it was registered in my mother’s name.’

Walt scratched his ruddy cheek and then downed the remains of his wine. ‘We should introduce ourselves. Let everyone see that we’re not bound by Stenmark’s decree.’ He was pleased when Frances smiled affirmatively and linked her arm through his.

‘You’re new to the Valley, I believe,’ Walt began the conversation as he came up to Carla and Angie. ‘I’m Walt Conrad and this is my wife, Frances. She’s been filling me in on your arrival because I’ve been away for the last six weeks, in Western Australia.’

‘Hello, nice to meet you,’ Carla said agreeably and shook their hands. ‘You’re a vigneron, Walt?’

‘Used to be. But that’s a long story, for another time perhaps. I’m in wine distribution now, do a lot of travelling interstate,’ he told them.

‘There’s considerable talk going around about what you’re doing,’ Frances stated, and followed it up with a friendly smile. ‘You’re the new flavour of the month in the Valley, so to speak.’

‘Mm, yes, I bet people are saying heaps,’ Carla replied tongue-in-cheek. Tonight, she and Angie were being subjected to more than their share of snide looks. Even the president of the Association, after finding out who they were, brushed them off…pointedly. That had made Carla angry and she’d wanted to leave but Angie insisted they tough it out, if only to show that people’s rudeness wasn’t going to make them turn tail like scared rabbits. The Stenmarks’s continuing aloofness and power-playing was something Carla would never fathom, and their attitude towards her and Sam hurt. But she was equally determined not to be intimidated or forced to leave the place she had decided to call home.

She had seen Luke Michaels from a distance. He’d raised his glass to her, as had his offsider, Josh Aldrich. To hell with both of them.

Frances laughed lightly, amused. ‘You have a sense of humour, Carla. That’s a valuable asset, considering the way people have allowed themselves to be dictated to by a certain wine company.’

Disguising her surprise at the woman’s frankness—most people skirted around the truth—Carla’s gaze moved from one Conrad to the other as she asked a pertinent question. ‘How come the two of you haven’t been similarly affected?’

‘Rhein Schloss have done their worst to us and we’ve survived.’ Walt’s answer was matter-of-fact but the downward turn of his mouth betrayed his loathing for the Stenmark family.

‘How did they do that?’ Angie asked, making the assumption that she was supposed to because the Conrads had given them the opening to inquire.

‘It’s a long, sad story,’ Frances sighed for effect. ‘We don’t like to talk about it, but ask around, anyone will tell you what Carl,’ she glanced towards Carla, ‘your grandfather, did. How he used his power and a team of expensive lawyers to dispute the boundary of our title deed and won in court. Defending the case and losing cost us everything. You may not know it but your grandfather can be quite ruthless and, if I could give you one piece of advice, Carla, it
would be to be very careful in any dealings with Rhein Schloss.’

Walt cut his wife off. ‘That’s enough about us, sweetheart, Carla has her own problems and I’m sure she’ll handle them well enough. I wish you well with your project,’ Walt said to both women, his expression implying that there would be time later on to fill Carla and Angie in on what had occurred between them and Rhein Schloss. ‘If I can be of any help, here’s my card.’ He gave both women an innocuous smile as he added, ‘any enemy of Carl Stenmark’s is, definitely, a friend of ours.’

They talked generally for several more minutes about the coming season, and then the Conrads wandered off to speak to others.

‘What was that all about?’ Angie said, shaking her head after they’d departed.

‘I’m not sure.’ Carla’s expression was thoughtful. The Conrads were an odd couple who held a strong aversion to the Stenmarks but whether they did rightly or wrongly, she didn’t know yet. ‘I intend to find out though.’ And who better to tell her than Paul. Working with him four days a week she had found him a fount of information on matters relating to what went on, in and around the Valley. He’d know what had happened between her grandfather and the Conrads. He mixed with many different people because of his business and had been living in the Valley since taking over from his uncle twelve years ago. During their conversation she’d got
the inkling that the Conrads might have an agenda of their own and that getting square with her grandfather could be high on their priority list. Still, to be fair, they were the only people who had attempted to speak to her and Angie tonight—which showed they weren’t as cowardly as others in the Valley.

A sigh ran through her…If she were the kind of person who got easily depressed, she would have succumbed by now. She didn’t enjoy being
persona non grata
to everyone other than the Loongs, Paul and the Conrads. And what was happening, all the little problems they were having with uncooperative merchants, not getting materials, people snubbing them and making it clear where their loyalties lay, had done one thing—it brought home forcefully how powerful the Stenmark family was in the Barossa, and most likely, beyond it. In fact, every day it became more obvious that she and Angie were involved in a silent, but nonetheless deadly, war of attrition.

Which made Carla pose the question: could they survive financially and emotionally beyond the first harvest, until sales of their first vintage brought in an income?

At that precise moment Luke and Lisel walked past, Lisel deliberately ignoring her. Damn her arrogance! Carla’s lips tightened with controlled anger and her resolve firmed once more. She was Rolfe Stenmark-Kruger’s daughter and she was not going to let anyone, including the Stenmark family,
destroy the dream she had nurtured of becoming an independent, financially secure winegrower.

There was a certain glint in her eyes as she touched Angie’s arm. ‘Come on, we’re going to mingle.’ She watched Angie’s fair eyebrow lift questioningly and responded, ‘If no one will break the taboo and speak to us, we’ll go and speak to them.’

‘We could be snubbed,’ Angie said doubtfully.

‘I don’t care.’ She did but she wouldn’t admit it, not even to the one woman in the world she was closest to. ‘I want everyone to see that I’m not intimidated by the Stenmarks. How people react is up to them.’

On the fringe of the party, Josh Aldrich watched Carla and Angie tackle a number of the members. It was interesting to watch how the growers reacted. First they would look shocked that Carla had the temerity to introduce herself, then their expressions would become unsure, even embarrassed and finally, shifting restlessly from one foot to another, they’d excuse themselves and move on. Occasionally, a grower with some backbone welcomed her and her partner and talked for a while.

His lips twisted in an admiring grin as the women ‘worked’ the room, creating undercurrents of tension, and interest. Obviously Carla wasn’t going to allow people not to notice her. He gave Carl’s granddaughter top marks for guts. Josh liked a woman to have spirit. Carla had it and so did Lisel Stenmark, though in Lisel it manifested
itself in arrogance and a super ego. The highlight of the evening for Josh was watching Carla. However, his gaze focused intently on her as she threw her head back to laugh at a comment some grower made. Her spontaneity, the fact that she was the best-looking woman there, made him admit something else: he liked Carla Hunter—a lot. So…
why don’t you do something about it?

Unobtrusively, Josh wove his way through the crowd, which was beginning to thin, towards Carla. On the way he picked up three glasses of white wine from a passing waiter. Fronting up to Angie and Carla he offered the wine. ‘Ladies, for you. I don’t know how you did it but tonight you’ve managed to turn a negative situation into a positive one.’

‘Oh. It’s you,’ Carla said dourly as she recognised Josh. She wasn’t impressed. Her gaze turned glacial but politeness dictated that she accept the glass offered.

Josh gave her a boyish, clearly sheepish grin. ‘I apologise for…before.’ A flicker in her eyes’ blue depths told him she knew what he was referring to. ‘We kind of got off on the wrong foot back then. I…didn’t know who you were, what you were doing.’ Which was a lie but she needn’t know that. He glanced towards Angie, trying to include her in the conversation. ‘I’m impressed with what you’ve achieved at Kruger,’ he corrected himself, ‘Sundown Crossing. You’ve created a vineyard out of a derelict property in a very short time. That’s no small feat.’

His compliments made Carla study Josh with a little more interest. In his dinner suit, with his hair neat and his face clean-shaven, he presented a different image to the one she remembered—that of the bearish, irritable man who’d accosted her on her second day in the Barossa.

‘It’s hard for me to believe your employers said to tell me that,’ Carla’s comment was pointed.

‘They didn’t. It’s my personal opinion.’ He leant towards her and lowered his voice confidentially. ‘The Stenmarks don’t own me body and soul, you know. I might work for them but when I’m not on company time, I’m my own man.’ His smile was earnest, believable, and when he saw Carla’s eyes widen slightly he was confident that she’d bought the lie. Well, it wasn’t a proper lie, more of an exaggeration because, in the long term he knew where his bread was buttered. Still, if he could get cozy with the owner of Sundown Crossing, who knew where it might lead? It would give him an inside track for the Stenmarks and, with old Carl almost frothing at the mouth because his granddaughter was making a go of things so far, either way he couldn’t lose.

‘So, can we bury the hatchet and start again?’ Josh asked. He put his hand out tentatively to shake hers but when he saw her indecision he pulled his hand back. ‘It’s okay. I understand. Why should you trust me when you know that I work for
them?
If I were in your shoes, I probably wouldn’t trust me either.’

‘At least you’re man enough to talk to us. That’s more than most of the men have done tonight,’ Angie made the observation with feeling.

Not normally suspicious, Carla forced her initial opinion of Josh to be nullified by his chameleon change to being open and pleasant. Could she have been wrong about him? And, what harm could there be in meeting him halfway, seeing that he purported to be his own man? Her hand reached out towards him and was quickly enveloped by his larger, stronger one.

‘Good. Friends then?’

‘I guess so.’

‘You won’t regret it, Carla,’ he promised.

Carla’s long, considering look might have put a less-confident man off. ‘I hope you won’t give me a reason to.’

Josh nodded that he wouldn’t, then, pleased by his success and wise enough not to press too hard and turn her off, knew it was time to make himself scarce. ‘Things to do, ladies. I’ll say goodnight.’ He turned away smiling, with remarkable speed for such a thick-set man. He had accomplished his goal and the next time they met, he would ask Carla out. He was sufficiently optimistic to believe she would say…yes.

A week later Josh dropped into van Leeson’s office while Paul was out, and asked Carla to dinner. She ummed and ahhed for a while but
finally said yes. They had a very pleasant dinner at a restaurant on the outskirts of town and he behaved perfectly. Josh knew enough about women to know that Carla Hunter wasn’t the type a man could rush into bed. She was too strong-willed and had the memories of a dead husband to get over. He went over his proposed campaign. To start with they’d just have the occasional date, and he’d get to know her kid too, have him come along with them sometimes. That’d please her, he reckoned. He could be patient, he told himself, when his goal was someone worth being patient for.