Du Rose Family Ties

by Bowes, K T

  “A tomo,” he replied. “Like Waitomo Caves. That looks nasty.” He reached for the radio on the dashboard and relayed a message to the hotel receptionist. “Tell Toby there’s a hole opened up in the Fourteenth paddock, please Marla. It needs fencing before dark. It’s sheer and I don’t want stock to fall into it.”

  Hana’s eyes widened as the other stockmen commented on the same frequency, calling from their various duties on the mountain. She registered the devious smirk on Logan’s face and shook her head. “It doesn’t need doing tonight does it?”

  “Course it does,” he replied, his grin producing dimples in both cheeks. “It’s perfect timing.”

  “You’re mean,” Hana commented. “You know Toby’s got a date with Leslie’s daughter tonight.”

  Logan pulled a face. “No, I didn’t know that. How come you’re the fount of local gossip?”

  “They trust me enough to tell me stuff. And I like her. Isla was brilliant the night Phoe was born.”

  “True, true.” Logan relented. “I might let him delegate.” He ran his hand along Hana’s thigh and she narrowed her eyes.

  “Do I need to drug you?” she joked. “Is it bromide they gave the poor soldiers in the war to control their sexual frustrations?”

  “I think that’s a myth, isn’t it?” Logan asked with a grin, withdrawing his hand.

  The ute struggled up the track, labouring as the incline increased to greet a frightening landscape of scarred rock face and boulders the size of the vehicle. Hana got out and closed the gate, latching it behind her. “Where are the mares?” she asked, searching the bleak view. “There isn’t much grass left.”

  Logan hefted a bale onto the ground and cut the twine with his penknife. “No, but there’s shelter. There’s more grass on the upper slopes but the storm will be miserable up there.” He eyed the sky through experienced, bushman’s eyes, understanding the up draughts and warnings he read in the cloud formations. As Hana watched, he spread the hay under an outcrop of stone and put two fingers into his mouth. A piercing whistle split the air molecules and disturbed the silent birds, who flew upwards in a frightened arc and settled back in the tree tops.

  “Come on.” Logan turned back to the ute. “They’ll be happier if we’re away from the feed when they get here.” He climbed into the driver’s seat and spun the ute in the tiny space at the end of the track, negotiating the ruts as he pointed the vehicle downwards. Hana opened the gate and closed it after him, hearing the clopping of bare hooves and feeling the vibrations through the soles of her boots.

  The mares were Appaloosa, white with grey dapples on their flanks and shoulders. The characteristic stumpy tails and scrubby manes marred the beauty in their conformation as they picked their way over the landscape and gathered around the hay bales Logan spread out for them like a poor man’s alfresco lunch. Tiny foals appeared at heel, spindly legs on bodies which would grow to the size of their mothers’ and heads like toys nodding on skinny necks. Hana watched in fascination as the babies nosed the hay, tugging at it and getting underfoot. She counted sixteen mares and four foals; identical peas in a pod. Logan left the ute running and joined her, resting his chin on the top of her head.

  “Neat little herd, aren’t they?” he said, pride in the question.

  “Gorgeous,” Hana breathed. “The babies are so cute.”

  The tiny replicas gave up on the grass and nosed at the mares’ stomachs searching for milk. They suckled greedily, their hooves moving in time with the adults’ legs, avoiding being trodden on as the mothers replenished their own stores.

  A muscular Appaloosa trotted between the tight rock formations, nipping at the heels of a heavy, reluctant mare. Hana’s lips parted and she pointed. “Methuselah?”

  “Yep,” Logan replied, running his hands up and down Hana’s shivering shoulders. He kissed her neck. “This is his herd. The foals belong to him. Old boy started early this year but Dad used him for work over the autumn, so I figured he felt glad to be home.”

  “I’ve never seen this herd.”

  Logan nipped the soft flesh beneath Hana’s ear. “They’re my mares and most of them aren’t broken. I keep them for breeding and sell the foals or train them to drive the cattle.”

  “They look like Sacha,” Hana mused and Logan nodded, his stubble grazing her ear.

  “Yep, she’s out of Methuselah and Rahab.” He pointed to the mare kicking out at the stallion’s ministrations. “She can’t have much longer to go before she gives birth.” Logan examined the mare with his eyes, observing the swollen belly and ears flat back against her head. He snorted. “She’s a bitch; I shouldn’t breed from her.”

  “Do all the foals end up with Sacha’s temperament?”

  “Na. She’s a real one off. Even Rahab’s not that difficult.” He sighed and turned back to the idling ute, aiming a casual slap to Hana’s backside. “Come on, Mrs Du Rose. We’ve still got the Friesians to feed.”

  “Have you phoned the principal about the job yet?” Hana asked, clinging to the door handle as the ute lurched downhill.

  “Haven’t had time.” Logan jerked the steering wheel to the right and the ute fishtailed. Hana cringed but her husband let out a whoop of victory as he countered the skid and pulled it straight. “I will though.” He dodged the washout with years of practice guiding his movements and Hana watched the ground disappear to the left of her, the remaining road scarred by a giant’s hungry bite. She shivered and looked away.

  “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” Logan skidded to a halt in front of the next gate and looked at Hana expectantly.

  “Don’t tell him you won’t take the job.” Hana slammed the ute door behind her and unlatched the heavy wooden gate. It warped on its hinges as she pushed it open to allow Logan to drive down the hill into a paddock containing black and white yearlings. The calves headed towards her at speed, kicking their heels and lowing in deep, throaty voices. She heard Logan yank the handbrake on and exit the vehicle, dishing out the hay to a disinterested audience.

  Hana stroked the eager faces which pushed into her body. The excited calves licked her fingers and butted her thighs, clamouring to get as close as possible. “Hey babies,” she crooned, stroking each face as the calves fought for her attention. “How are you settling into your new home?” She smoothed fluffy ears and and admired their black eyelashes as one by one, they turned their attention to their stomachs. Hana stroked the last black and white body as the heifer rubbed her forehead on the woman’s jeans, reluctant to join the throng of chewing faces. “You can’t live in my garden forever, Daisy,” Hana said, using her sleeve to wipe the dribbly nose. “One day you’ll be a giant cow and there won’t be enough grass for you on my lawn. Besides, your brothers and sisters are here.”

  The heifer hung back as though unhappy, shifting on her cloven hooves in nervousness. She still sported the remains of Phoe’s pink ribbon dangling from her ear tag, faded and shredded in places. “Come on, Daisy.” Hana tugged at the fleshy ruff around her neck and led the calf towards the group of excited, chewing bovine. She grabbed a handful of hay and offered it to her, waiting while she took a few tentative mouthfuls and chewed with the stalks sticking from her lips. “Good girl,” Hana said, stroking a fluffy ear. She glanced behind her, seeing Logan’s muscles stretch the fabric of his shirt sleeves taut as he hefted the last bale. Wrapping her arms around the large, furry face, she kissed the top of Daisy’s head. “Be good,” she whispered. “I’ll come again and bring the children.”

  Daisy flicked her rope-like tail and bent her head to the hay. Hana slipped away while she was busy, climbing into the ute and slouching below the level of the window. Logan got into the driver’s seat and looked at her with narrowed eyes. “What’re you doing?”

  “Hiding from Daisy,” Hana whispered. “Can we go while she’s busy?”

  Logan bit his lip and stifled a snort. “Open the gate for me?”

  “No,” Hana hissed. “Don’t make me.”
<
br />   Logan spun the ute and climbed out to open the gate. He sighed in annoyance as he drove the vehicle through and then got out again to close it behind him. “You’re kinda not getting the point of this farming thing,” he snorted as he put the ute into gear and pointed it up the steep track toward home. “The calves weren’t supposed to exist, remember, Hana. They’re the result of Asher’s sabotage. I should have shot them the day they were born. I run a damn Charolaise herd, not Friesian.” He cranked the gear stick back into first as the ute shuddered against the incline in second gear.

  “You wouldn’t!” Hana sat up, glaring at her husband in indignation. “That’s cruel!”

  “Yeah, but I’m not keeping them or breeding from them. They’re destined for the market as soon as they’re fat enough; that’s what beef farming’s about.”

  Hana screwed her face up. “I’m becoming a vegetarian,” she grumbled.

  “You might as well! You’ve turned those damn cattle into idiots with bows in their ears and bloody scarves around their necks!”

  “That was Phoenix, not me.” Hana leaned forward and peered in the side mirror. “Oh, phew. She’s still eating.”

  Logan laughed and Hana slapped his thigh. “You’re mean!”

  He shrugged. “I had a calf when I was ten. I called him Ice Man because he looked pure white and I taught him to follow me, lie down and come when I whistled.”

  “You ate him, didn’t you? Miriam made burgers out of him and you lost your compassion for farm animals.”

  Logan put his head back and laughed. “No. I keep him on the other side of the mountain in the bull pen. Ice Man’s sired most of the last two generations of the Charolaise herd.” He pulled up at the next gate and pulled the handbrake up. “He still comes when I whistle too, only now he’s two tonnes of bull and when I give him the hand signal to lie down, he looks at me like, ‘are you freakin’ kidding me?’ I’ll take you to see him tomorrow.”

  “Okay.” Hana left the vehicle and dealt with the gate, settling herself back into the passenger seat and fastening her belt for the long trek home.

  “So, why shouldn’t I say no to the Hamilton job?” Logan asked, keeping his tone light as he jolted the ute over rough terrain.

  Hana sighed. “It might be good to be in town for a few months. I can catch up with Bo and his family and Mark’s lonely. He doesn’t know whether to stay in New Zealand or go back to England now.”

  Logan braked and turned to his wife. He stretched out a hand and stroked her cheek. Hana smelled the scent of hay and twine on his fingers and closed her eyes, remembering the warm sunshine of six months ago. “What does my wife want?” he asked, his voice soft. “Because she’s all I care about in this.”

  Hana sighed. “I know you miss teaching and you must get the hours in to continue your teacher registration. I sense you want to do it and I need to support you.”

  “You don’t need to do anything, babe. I’m happy here; it’s fine.”

  “I’ll come back with you.” Hana’s decisiveness faltered and she narrowed her eyes. “But promise it’s only for one term. I can’t cope if it’s like the boarding house job. That was a month which turned into a year.”

  “It’s definitely a term,” Logan confirmed. “After that, they’ll want someone more permanent. You’re right, I need the hours.” He bit his lip. “I wondered about covering a few classes at one of the South Auckland schools next year; it’s only half an hour up the road across country. What do you think? I could teach a few periods a week and give something back to the local community.”

  Hana smiled and nodded. “That’s a great idea and they’d snap you up. Teachers of your calibre don’t come along every day. Fine, we’ll go south but only for a term.” She sighed and watched the light dim on the horizon as the sun sank behind the highest ridge in the west. “Logan?” Hana’s tone held a question. “What’s really going on with Toby?”

  Logan rolled his eyes and shook his head. “It’s a bet. He said you’d ask if that kid from the hospital could come and stay with us and I said you wouldn’t dare.”

  “But you knew I would, so why did you say that?” Hana frowned in confusion.

  Logan winked at her. “Because sometimes you gotta let them win if you want the best out of people. He’ll enjoy himself for a few days thinking he got the better of me but eventually he’ll wise up.”

  “How?” Hana asked. “He can’t know what you’re thinking.”

  Logan grinned. “Yeah, he can. I asked David Allen to fetch the kid when the hospital discharged him.”

  “Really?” Hana’s face creased in pleasure, her smile fading as she failed to grasp Logan’s point. “I still don’t get it.”

  Logan dragged her into him and pressed his lips against hers. “Toby was real insistent and loud, claiming he knew you better than I did so I let him run with it. I accepted his bet and I’ve just fulfilled my part of the bargain. But I asked David Allen to check when the kid was due for discharge days ago, so our mate Toby’s gonna look a right dick.”

  “You’re evil,” Hana breathed. “He’ll be so angry.”

  Logan kissed her again, stilling her words. “No,” he whispered. “He’ll be contrite and do as he’s told for a while until he thinks of another way to get one over on me. And he’ll fail that time too. It never hurts to let your staff see you’ve got class, Hana. I’ve let him push me around today and I didn’t need to.”

  “You’re a wise old bird, Logan Du Rose,” Hana sighed, wrapping her arms around her husband’s neck. “I don’t deserve you.”

  “Yeah, you do,” Logan replied, parting her lips and drawing her closer. His foot slipped off the clutch and the ute lurched forward, slamming his arm into the steering wheel as Hana banged her head against his.

  “You’re just a rubbish driver,” she groaned, alarmed to see the blue egg appear on Logan’s temple.

  “I’m fine, I’m fine,” he insisted, rubbing at the instant bruise exacerbated by the haemophilia. “It’s your fault.” He smiled and winced. “You screw my concentration.”

  Chapter 9

  The Burden

  “Dr Haines will see you now, Mrs Du Rose.” The receptionist smiled and nodded her head towards the corridor.

  Hana rose, balancing Mac on her hip. “There’s been a mistake,” she said, licking her lips. “I booked for Dr Francis.”

  “He’s not here.” The girl behind the counter blinked in rapid succession. “Dr Haines is taking over his appointments this week but you can wait for Dr Seuli instead.”

  Hana’s eyes widened and she shook her head in a frenzied action of denial. “No. Thanks.” She scurried towards the corridor, wishing she’d asked which room the new doctor occupied. She spun in a circle, her eyes raking the name plates until the door belonging to Dr Francis swung open and a stunning brunette stepped towards her. Grey-blue eyes surrounded by thick lashes narrowed in a smile and she held her hand out.

  “Mrs Du Rose?”

  Hana nodded. “Yes. I expected Dr Francis and then didn’t know if you were in his office or somewhere else.” She clasped the offered hand, her own sticky with sweat. “Sorry,” she said, withdrawing it and wiping her palm on her skirt.

  “Come in.” The doctor stood back and allowed Hana to pass. Mac studied the woman with interest, sucking on his fat thumb and winding his other hand through Hana’s red curls. Hana dived into the nearest seat and settled her son on her knee, casting around the familiar room with anxiety in her face.

  “Gorgeous baby.” The doctor leaned forward and tickled Mac’s tiny foot through his sock and he kicked his leg and beamed around his thumb. He pressed his face into Hana’s chest and then spun again, a wide smile on his face as he engaged in a game of hidey boo.

  “How can I help you?” the doctor asked, cocking her head to one side.

  Hana floundered. “Pills!” she exclaimed with relief. “Yes, I need pills.”

  “What sort of pills?” Dr Haines knitted her brow.

  �
��Contraceptive pills,” Hana said, trying to sound convincing as her head nodded in an exaggerated motion. “Yes, that’s what I need.”

  The woman turned towards her computer and tapped on the keyboard with long, manicured nails. Hana squeezed her baby into her body and he sighed and laid his head on her breast. “Are you breastfeeding?” the doctor asked and Hana nodded.

  “Yes, but only in the night. He’s weaning himself.” She ran her fingers over the downy orange hair and kissed the top of his head.

  The doctor turned back to face her. “Mrs Du Rose, Dr Francis gave you suitable pills when you came a month ago. What happened to those?”

  “He didn’t give me enough.” Hana’s palms sweated more. “I ran out.”

  The woman stared at her and her brow creased. “Mrs Du Rose, would you rather see Dr Seuli? You’re obviously not here for contraceptives because Dr Francis gave you a prescription for six months’ worth. It’s fine if you don’t want to talk to me, but at least talk to someone. I’ll ask if he’s free.” She stood up and took a step towards the closed door.

  “No!” Hana cried. “Please don’t! I’ll tell you but don’t make me see him.”

  “Why ever not?” Dr Haines sat heavily in her chair. “He’s nice.”

  Hana rolled her eyes. “The last time he treated me, I said some things in private and he repeated them to the police. They found a body behind my brother-in-law’s house and arrested my husband because of what he said. I’m not talking to Dr Seuli!”

  “Will you talk to me?” the doctor asked, leaning forward, her sweet face kind and endearing. Hana nodded, sensing the other woman’s compassion reaching out to her across the gap and it was enough to unpick her fragile resolve.

  Mac frowned as the dripping sensation began on his head. He looked up, squinting as another of Hana’s tears went into his eye. Putting both of his fat arms up to his face, he scrubbed at his eyes with little fists and yawned. “I don’t know where to start,” Hana sobbed as the flood gates opened and gulped breaths choked her.

  “Is it you or your baby?” the perceptive doctor asked, handing Hana a fistful of tissues. Mac made a grab for the fluffy white bunch and thrust one in his mouth, pulling a nasty face at the taste and pushing the bits out of his mouth with his tongue.