Right As Rain

by Tricia Stringer

  “What do you expect, Lou? I’m confined to quarters and she knows this place and the animals nearly as well as I do.”

  “Well, she shouldn’t.” Louise turned back to her mixture and began spooning it into the pastry bases. “I want her to have a better life. She shouldn’t be tied to this place.”

  “She doesn’t have to stay.”

  “I told you when we made out the wills. I want her to have the chance to move on, have a life of her own, a husband . . .” Louise sucked in a breath and looked at Lyle. “I want her to have her own babies . . . our grandchildren.”

  She spun back to her quiches, not wanting Lyle to see the emotion she knew would be showing on her face.

  They were both silent for a moment.

  Finally he spoke and she could hear the teasing in his tone. “You know, Lou, sometimes I wonder if we haven’t raised two children that bat for the other side.”

  “That’s nonsense!”

  “We shouldn’t presume opposites attract. There’s a lot more of that same-sex stuff these days.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Lyle, Mackenna has had numerous boyfriends . . .”

  “None that have lasted.”

  “And Patrick’s just a bit shy with women. There’ve been several girls he’s been keen on over the years. Anyway, what’s that got to do with anything?” Louise slid the quiches into the oven and shut the door firmly. She wasn’t going to be distracted by Lyle’s attempt to change the subject.

  “I’m just saying we mustn’t pigeonhole them, Lou. Whatever they do, they must do it because it’s what they want, not what we want for them.”

  “You’ve changed your tune. You were the one who didn’t want Mackenna to be a chef. You were the one who tried to get Patrick to take an ag course at uni rather than management and marketing.”

  “And I was wrong to do it. They have to make their own way.”

  The screen door banged and Louise could tell by the footfall it was Patrick. She lowered her voice.

  “We’ve been over this already. We can’t tie our daughter to this place, Lyle. It’s not fair.”

  “Is it fair to Patrick?”

  “Shush!” She started cleaning down the bench as Patrick stomped into the kitchen.

  “Is what fair to Patrick?” he said.

  Louise thought fast. “Another trip into town,” she said. “I’ve got some food to deliver for the church trading table.”

  “I may as well. I’m only the errand boy,” he snapped and moved to the sink. He filled a glass with water, drank it down and thumped the glass back on the bench.

  “What’s up, Patch?” Louise said. Underneath the spiked thatch of died black hair his face was mottled red. He had a bee in his bonnet about something.

  “Did you find the pipe?” Lyle asked.

  Louise glanced from Patrick to her husband. Lyle had no idea something was bothering his son.

  “I found all sorts of things,” Patrick said.

  Louise focused back on him. “What things?”

  “We need to fix that pivot,” Lyle said. “Where’s Mackenna?”

  “Smooching up to Hugh.”

  “What?” Louise gasped. Hugh McDonald had been a close childhood friend who happened to be male. Mackenna had always made that clear. Had something changed?

  “The two of them are sorting out the rams,” Patrick said as he slumped into a chair. “Hugh thinks they may have barber’s pole worm, whatever that is.”

  “How could that happen?” Lyle stood up. “Is it bad?”

  “He thinks it may have been caught early. Reckons he needs to check the test results.”

  “Damn!” Lyle punched the flat of one hand with the fist of the other. “We can’t afford to lose those rams.”

  “Hugh also said those early crossbreed lambs are probably the result of Mackenna not shifting last year’s lambs out soon enough. The little buggers bonked their mothers.”

  “Patrick!” Louise found that kind of talk distasteful.

  “I thought we must have left them too long,” Lyle said and sat down again. “It’s the only explanation.”

  More footsteps at the back door announced Mackenna’s arrival. Patrick stood up as she entered the kitchen.

  “I’ll go and fix the pivot,” he said.

  “Do you want help?” Mackenna turned to follow him.

  “I can manage a bit of pipe.”

  “I know, but I want to check where it broke. There might be an underlying problem.”

  “I reckon there must be a bow in it somewhere,” Lyle said. “Perhaps I should take a look.”

  “Lyle.” The exasperation in Louise’s voice made them all stop and look at her. She spoke more gently. “You’ve done quite a bit outside already today. Let Patrick handle it.”

  “I’ll take a look, Dad,” Mackenna said.

  Patrick shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

  Louise listened to the sound of her two children making their way out of the house. When they were little, Patrick had followed his big sister everywhere hanging on her every word. He was a grown-up now but Mackenna still treated him the same.

  “Patrick should head back to the city soon.”

  Lyle’s voice brought her back to the present.

  “Why?”

  “I don’t think he wants to be here.”

  “He and Mackenna are just testing each other. They’ll settle down.”

  Lyle sighed. “It doesn’t come naturally to him.”

  “You can’t blame him for that worm infestation.”

  “I don’t. Just like I don’t blame Mackenna for not shifting the lambs early enough. Things happen.”

  “What then?” she asked.

  “He’s done his best but this isn’t where he wants to be. We really shouldn’t hold him here now that Mackenna’s back and we’ve employed Cam.”

  “There’s plenty of work to do.”

  Lyle sniffed the air. “Is something burning?”

  “Damnation!” Louise whipped around and pulled open the oven door.

  “I won’t have that language in the house,” Lyle said.

  She raised an eyebrow in his direction.

  “Think I’ll retire to the lounge and read the Stock Journal,” he said.

  “If you can’t stand the heat . . .” she called to his back as he left the room.

  She turned her attention back to the quiches. One was dark on top but the rest were simply well done. They could eat the dark one for lunch and the rest would still be fine for the trading table. She was rostered to go on the stall at two o’clock for an hour or so. Hopefully Patrick would forget she’d mentioned taking in the food.

  Louise busied herself cleaning up the kitchen and pondered his earlier moodiness. Mackenna had probably said something to upset him. She still saw him as her baby brother instead of the man he’d become. The mention of Mackenna and Hugh was interesting. When they were teenagers Louise had always thought they’d make the perfect couple, but there was also Carol. The three of them had started school together and they were inseparable. After school they’d all left for Adelaide at the same time to take on their respective courses: Mackenna as an apprentice chef with a big hotel in the city, Carol to study nursing and Hugh science. They were all doing so well and it had become apparent that Hugh and Carol had feelings for each other. Then just as they were finishing their respective courses, Carol had been tragically killed. Her vehicle had hit a tree as she returned home to the South East late one night.

  Along with Carol’s family, the community had been devastated and for a while Louise felt that a part of Mackenna had also died. Something had gone on between Carol’s father and Hugh as well. There were rumours that he blamed Hugh for not being with Carol that night. Whatever had happened, her death had impacted them all and Hugh had hardly returned to his home since.

  Not long after the accident, Mackenna took up a job in Victoria but only lasted at it a few months before she returned, wanting to spend some time on the prope
rty. Louise had thought it would be temporary. Mackenna needed time to grieve and being home on the farm seemed the right place to do it.

  Now, life had moved on and somehow Mackenna had become an integral part of the farm. Lyle’s sudden heart attack was a timely reminder for Louise that her daughter needed to get on with her life. Being tied to a farm that she may one day have to manage alone was not the future Louise wanted for her. The will would make legally sure it couldn’t happen, but Louise knew there was a lot more to be done to get Mackenna to change her views.

  Hugh McDonald might be the catalyst that was needed. When they’d hired Cam, Louise had thought it hadn’t hurt that he was charming and good-looking. There was a chance he might have been right for Mackenna, but Hugh was much more suitable as a potential husband. Louise decided she could suss out the lay of the land by inviting him over for a meal. See for herself if there was any spark between her daughter and the eligible bachelor. She flicked on the radio and began to sing along. For the first time since Lyle’s heart attack she felt the weight lift a little from her shoulders.

  CHAPTER

  8

  Hugh pulled up outside his family home. It was nearly time for dinner but instead of going inside he turned off the ignition, laid back his head and closed his eyes. There was no sound bar the ticking of the engine as it cooled and the last birds singing in the diminishing light. He took in a deep breath and slowly let it out. After he’d left the Birches’ property he hadn’t had a moment to himself, which was probably just as well. He wanted to keep his head clear of the past and work was good for that.

  Now he was home and in no rush to go inside, where his mother would fuss and his father would offer up only the barest of greetings. He thought over his visit to Woolly Swamp and meeting Mackenna after so long. It had been a while since he’d had a panic attack but when she’d thrown her arms around him, his chest had tightened and his heart had begun to race. It had been all he could do to stop himself pulling away from her and jumping back in his vehicle to drive off. He’d made it look like he was rummaging for something in the cab and taken some slow steadying breaths. The attack had faded but the suddenness of it had left him shaken. He hadn’t expected the sight of Mackenna to have such an impact on him.

  It had only been her rock-like friendship that had kept him going those few weeks after Carol’s death. Hugh leaned his head against the steering wheel. He’d been over and over the past with the doctor so many times. The guilt over the night Carol had her accident had driven him to cut the ties with his home. He’d taken up ag consultant work, first on Eyre Peninsula then Victoria and New South Wales. Distance made it easy for him to avoid coming home.

  The outside light flicked on. Hugh turned to look but the back door remained closed. He sat back and cast his eyes along the verandah to the end, where its roof was propped up with a couple of posts. They protruded at angles like tent ropes. It had been like that for several years. His father was always going to fix it but never got around to it. His mother commented once that it could fall down around her and no-one would care. The properties always came first. With four sons they’d bought up land in several places. Hugh’s three brothers lived on the other properties, all within close distance of the home place. If Hugh wanted to stay, this dilapidated house would eventually become his. He shook his head. That was definitely not going to happen.

  A series of taps made him jump. He looked to the passenger-side window, where his father was peering in through the glass.

  “You coming inside?” Allan McDonald moved his big frame around the front of the four-wheel drive towards the house without waiting for an answer.

  Once again Hugh took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. He only had to sit through the meal. After dinner his father would be on the phone to Hugh’s brothers or watching the television. Hugh would help his mother clean up and then he would make an excuse for an early night. This would be the pattern of his existence while he did the fill-in ag consultant work.

  Slowly, he made his way to the back door. He left his boots on the verandah and his hat on a hook just inside the door. Molly, their old black and white cat, was immediately weaving between his legs, butting her head against his shins. He reached down and picked her up, carrying her with him into the kitchen.

  “Hello, love.” His mother greeted him with a smile and took the cat from his hands. “Go and wash up. Tea’s ready.”

  When he returned from the bathroom his father was already seated at the head of the large table and Molly was tucking in to some tasty morsel his mother had put on a plate on the floor for her. Hugh sat at the place set for him beside his father. Since he’d been home, at least one of his brothers and or some of their family had been here at dinnertime, but tonight it was just the three of them.

  “Something simple tonight,” Mary said as she put steaming plates of savoury mince in front of them. “I’ve been in the garden all day. Lost track of time.”

  His father made a low snorting sound that annoyed Hugh, but his mother wasn’t fazed.

  “Wait till you see what I’ve done, Allan.” She sat down opposite Hugh and offered them bread. “Hugh helped me get my garden seat in place and I’ve finished digging the bed the boys started for me. They’re such willing helpers, my grandsons.”

  Once again Allan snorted. “Make the most of it, I say. Once they’re a bit older there’ll be more than enough work for them around the properties. You can always encourage the girls.”

  “They’re a little bit young yet to lift a shovel.”

  Hugh ate as his parents bantered back and forth discussing the events of their day. He had almost tuned out and was startled when his father spoke directly to him.

  “How’re things looking over Birches’ way?”

  “Good.” Hugh swallowed his food as they both looked at him expectantly. “Still fairly dry but they’re doing okay.”

  “What about the general area? Have you had much of a look around?”

  “Woolly Swamp way?” Hugh wasn’t sure what his father meant.

  “Yes, there’s a place for sale there. I wondered how it was looking after the summer.”

  Hugh frowned. Then he remembered seeing a For Sale sign along the highway not far from the Birches’ home.

  “You mean the Suttons’ place? They’ve turned half of it into vineyards.” Surely his father wasn’t planning on buying more land? If he was, Hugh couldn’t imagine his interest in a place that was producing grapes for wine. Allan was strictly a sheep and cattle man. He was a sceptic when it came to plantations of anything but crops for feed.

  “I know what they’ve been doing there,” Allan said. “Seems the grapes have been made into drinkable wine.”

  Hugh put the last forkful of food into his mouth and Mary scooped up the plates. “I’ve made chocolate pudding for dessert.”

  “Don’t serve any for me, Mum,” Hugh said. “The savoury mince was enough.”

  “It’s your favourite.” Mary bustled about at the bench. “You need fattening up, love.”

  “You’ll have me the size of a whale before I leave.”

  The noise from the dishes ceased. Mary turned to look at her husband.

  “Tell him, Allan,” she said. Her eyes sparkled.

  His father wore that funny look he’d had the time he’d given Hugh the ultimatum about coming home to work on the property.

  “Tell me what?” Hugh said. Unease churned the food in his stomach.

  “We’re thinking of buying the Suttons’ place,” Allan said.

  Mary put bowls of pudding and ice-cream on the table and stood between her husband and her son. “For you,” she said.

  Hugh looked from the excitement on his mother’s face to his father’s, where he recognised the look of expectation. The weight of their suggestion locked him to the chair, while inside, his body was in turmoil.

  “We want you to have a part in the family business,” Mary said.

  Hugh looked from one to the other ag
ain before he found his voice. “We’ve talked about this before. I’m happy doing what I do.”

  “But that’s only a job, working for someone else,” Allan said with a sweep of his hand. “This would be for yourself.”

  Hugh didn’t point out that he’d still be working for someone else, only this time it would be the family.

  “I don’t know much about growing grapes and winemaking.”

  “You spent years at uni getting that fancy degree.” Allan thrummed the table with his fingers.

  “I have a bachelor in agricultural science.”

  “You used to work at that cellar door during your uni days,” Mary said.

  “It was a part-time job.”

  “You were always interested in wine.”

  “I like to drink it. That’s a bit different from making it.”

  “Someone with your background could easily find out more,” Allan said. “Your brothers are keen to help.”

  “So you’ve all discussed this?” Hugh could feel his chest tightening.

  “We’re a family business, one in, all in,” his father said and shovelled a large spoonful of dessert into his mouth.

  “We want you to come home to stay, love.” Mary patted his hand. “It’s not right you don’t have a part to play here. You’re such a clever lad. I’m sure you’d make a go of it.”

  Hugh opened his mouth to tell her about the fantastic research opportunity he’d accepted in Canada but the anticipation glowing on her face made him stop.

  “The auction’s a couple of months away,” Allan said. “You don’t have to make a decision yet.”

  “Just think on it.” Mary patted his arm again. “That’s all we ask.”

  “With you around I might get pudding more often.” Allan’s face pulled into a small grin and he took another mouthful.

  “Your tummy doesn’t need it,” Mary teased and she went to get her own plate. Hugh pushed his pudding and melting ice-cream around his bowl. This was all strange and unexpected, not only the offer but also his father’s attempt at congeniality.

  After Carol’s accident, Hugh had been made an offer to join the family business. He’d turned it down and after the ruckus that had caused, he thought there would never be another opportunity. Back then Allan had been aggressive and demanding. This time was different, perhaps tempered by Mary’s presence. No doubt she’d been in her husband’s ear about it. And this was an entirely different proposition, but it was strange all the same.