They returned to the dining room and shared out the plates of cheesecake. Everyone complimented Louise on her cooking. It was rather good even if she did say so herself. The cheesecake baked with berry juice swirled through it and topped with whole berries was a golden oldie recipe she hadn’t used for a long time. It didn’t hurt that Mackenna had made some kind of sauce with the extra berries and drizzled that over the ice-cream. Louise considered herself a good cook but her daughter created more interesting food. She’d learnt so much during her years as a chef. If only she’d gone on with that instead of burying herself in the farm. Still, she’d never lost her talent and she’d make someone a good wife.
Mackenna laughed at something Hugh said and gave him a playful tap on the shoulder. Louise focused on the conversation and in particular on the body language of her daughter and her childhood friend.
Lyle raised his near empty glass. “Thanks everyone for all your help over the last few months.”
“Here’s to you feeling much better, Dad,” Mackenna added.
“I’m feeling no pain at the moment.” Lyle drained his glass and grinned down the table at Louise.
He might not be so chipper in the morning but she was pleased to see him relaxed and enjoying himself.
“You’ve been a big help with our worm problems, Hugh,” Lyle said. “Following up that faeces test promptly, I really appreciate that.”
“Glad we all know what you’re talking about, Dad.” Mackenna chuckled.
“Do we have to discuss it over the dinner table?” Louise asked.
“Sheep are our bread and butter, Lou. They’ve got to be in good condition.”
“You’ve made some improvements since you took on the stud,” Hugh said.
Louise was thankful for his attempt to divert the conversation.
“That’s Mackenna’s influence.” Lyle smiled at his daughter and Louise flicked a glance in Patrick’s direction. She could see no sign of annoyance on his face. She knew Mackenna deserved her father’s praise but somehow Patrick needed to be included.
“She’s put a lot of time into the research,” Lyle continued, “and we’ve started seeing the rewards. Healthy animals are our aim. That’s why this barber’s pole worm outbreak with the rams has been such a blow.”
“From what I’ve seen, I’d say it’s only a hiccup,” Hugh said. “We’ll keep an eye on them.”
Lyle winced. “I thought we were managing our animals well.”
“You are, but you could do more.”
Hugh looked set to go on and Louise thought it was time to change the subject.
“They’re already spending so much time managing the sheep,” she said. “Anyone for tea or coffee?”
“Yes, thanks, Mrs Birch,” Hugh said then continued the conversation with Lyle. “You already document growth rate and fertility, you could add in resistance to worms.”
“I talked to you about it before I went on holiday, Dad,” Mackenna said.
“Don’t tell me you’d have to do daily sheep poo checks.” Patrick groaned.
“Not quite to that extent,” Hugh said.
“I’m heading in to the pub.” Cam stood up. “Thanks for the meal, Louise.”
“I’ll come with you,” Patrick said and leapt to his feet.
“Why don’t you stay and find out more?” Louise didn’t mind if Cam left but she wanted Patrick to be a part of these conversations.
“No offence, Mum, but when it comes to a night at the pub or talking about worms, I’ll take the pub.”
“I’ll introduce you to a couple of chicks I met on the weekend,” Cam said. “A couple of lively ladies.”
“Not sure if I trust your judgement after the last time.” Patrick gave Cam a playful punch on the arm.
“It wasn’t my fault she had that jealous ex. Anyway, these two are backpacking. Only around for a few more days.”
“I’ll see how it pans out when we get there.” Patrick waved from the door and they were gone.
Louise looked down the table at her husband and he gave her a lopsided grin before turning back to Hugh.
“You can use genetics to breed worm resistant sheep.”
“I know it’s being done from what Mackenna told me but it’s still experimental, isn’t it?” Lyle asked.
“The Corriedale stud I visited near Queenstown was right into it,” Mackenna said. “We haven’t had much chance to discuss it yet.”
“I’d be interested to hear as well,” Hugh said. “It’s what I’ve been studying in the last year and I’m about to ... at least I hope to get involved in some research.”
“Where? Maybe we could be part of it,” Mackenna said, her eyes bright.
“Possibly.” Hugh looked startled. “I don’t know . . . it’s not my project exactly.”
“What was this place you visited, Mack?” Lyle asked.
Louise let the conversation wash over her. The other two hadn’t noticed that Hugh had suddenly started tripping over his words. There was something he wasn’t saying. Still, if he was involved in research that kind of thing was often hush-hush until the results were clear. Mackenna, on the other hand, was animated. She’d left her thick auburn curls loose and they fell around her shoulders and framed her face. Louise wouldn’t describe her daughter as pretty, more a classic beauty that shone from within, especially when she was engrossed in something she was passionate about, like she was now. Louise tuned back in to Mackenna’s words.
“With their selective breeding program, the worm resistance comes from the dame and the sire side. The livestock manager shopped around for good genes.”
“Sounds like they are a much bigger operation than us,” Lyle said.
“Yes, but they started out small, Dad. Just like us.”
“Are there any places closer to home doing this?”
“Yes.” Mackenna and Hugh both spoke at once.
“I know of a couple in New South Wales,” Mackenna said.
“There’s another even closer,” Hugh added. “Not far over the border in Victoria. I’ve been to have a look at what they’re doing.”
“Is it worth us paying them a visit?” Lyle asked.
“Definitely!” Mackenna and Hugh chorused together then laughed.
Louise smiled. There was certainly a connection between the two of them. She was glad she’d invited Hugh for dinner. They were both animated now. Taking turns to tell Lyle all they knew about this selective breeding program. She collected up the dessert dishes and remembered the offer of tea and coffee she’d never fulfilled. Never mind. They were so busy talking they hadn’t missed it.
In the kitchen she was relieved to see everything was tidy. Mackenna and Hugh must have cleaned up when they served the dessert. All that was needed was to stack the last things into the dishwasher and turn it on. Louise sighed. She’d missed Mackenna’s support around the house. While she’d trained Lyle and Patrick to at least carry their dishes to the bench, they rarely did more than that.
She gave a last glance around her neat kitchen and switched off the light. Suddenly she felt bone weary and it was the latest Lyle had stayed up in a long while. Time for them all to turn in.
At the dining room door she paused.
“I think it could work here, Dad.” Mackenna’s voice was low but filled with enthusiasm.
Louise entered the room and the three at the table turned as one to look at her.
“What could work here?”
She glanced from one to the other. Hugh gave her a polite smile but it was the fleeting look between father and daughter that bothered her. What ideas was Mackenna filling Lyle’s head with now?
“The Corriedale stud that Mackenna visited in New Zealand sounds interesting. Maybe we should go for a look,” Lyle said.
“To New Zealand!”
“It’s not far, Lou.”
“I know that, but you’ve always got a reason why we can’t go.”
She had tried on several occasions to convince her husband to
take an overseas holiday. He’d always had some excuse about why they couldn’t go. They had passports that had never been used.
“I’ve got a reason now.”
“I don’t think you’d be allowed to travel too far for a while.”
“It’s just an idea.”
Louise felt a pang of regret as the sparkle left his eyes.
“We can certainly look into it,” she said. “We could both do with a holiday. Maybe while we’ve got all these helpers a short break would be good.”
“Thank you for the meal, Mrs Birch.” Hugh stood up. “I’d best be off.”
Mackenna leapt to her feet. “I’ll walk you out.”
Louise watched them go. They made a good-looking couple. She turned back to find Lyle studying her.
“What are you up to, Lou? I know that look. I hope you’re not thinking Mack and Hugh are an item.”
“Of course not,” Louise said quickly. “But now that you mention it, they would be a good match.”
“He’s not staying.”
“He might if he had a reason.”
“Lou.” Lyle’s voice was soft and he shook his head.
Louise could see how tired he was.
“Bedtime for us,” she said.
As they entered the passage the murmur of voices carried on the tranquil night air. Mackenna and Hugh were still talking.
Louise smiled to herself. Lyle didn’t understand these things. Hugh had never had a reason to put down roots but it was just possible he might discover a reason here.
CHAPTER
11
“Would you at least think about it?” Mackenna asked.
She swept a loose curl back into the band holding her ponytail and studied her father closely. The two of them were standing in the kitchen of the original homestead. All the other rooms had been done up except this one. She had asked for this room to be left until she returned from holidays.
“I can’t see your mother going for it,” he said. “It will be a lot of work.”
“Not for Mum. I’ll be doing the cooking. The kitchen has to be replaced anyway. It won’t take much more to make it restaurant standard.”
“Who’d come all the way here to dine out?”
“We’re only just off the main road. We’d start out small with tasting and other local produce. Just on weekends, when there are more tourists about.”
“It’d be a tie.”
“The farm is already a tie.”
“But it takes all our time and then some. How will you have time to manage this?”
“You’ve employed Cam and Patrick’s around now.” Mackenna saw a small frown flit across her father’s face. “I know he’s not here to stay,” she said, “but it sounds like he plans to hang around for a while. Might give me the time to give it a crack.”
“Spending more than is necessary on this old place would be wasted if you don’t succeed.”
“You were happy to do it up as a working man’s quarters.”
“There’s another point. Your mother’s already offered the place to Cam.”
“He seems happy enough in the house and he’s not here all the time anyway. If we set this place up as a farm gate tasting stop, I’d sleep in the back room so there’d be even more room in the big house.” Mackenna stepped into the passage that ran from the kitchen to the front door, pointing as she spoke. “The front room would be the tasting room and the big side room we created by knocking down that internal wall could be a special dining room later down the track.”
“Whoa! Steady up, girl.” Lyle stood in the doorway shaking his head. “What ‘special dining room’?”
“It’s another way of building the reputation of our meat. We can do tasting but we can also offer a special dining experience for those who want to book.”
He held her gaze and Mackenna could see the doubt in his eyes. Perhaps her enthusiasm had pushed him too far. She so badly wanted to get the kitchen done while the old house was still empty.
Her father pursed his lips and shook his head again. “Maybe your mother was right,” he said. “You would be better back in the restaurant game.”
“The restaurant game?”
“We’re either running a farm or running a restaurant. Which is it?”
Mackenna was confused. It was the first she’d gone into detail about her plans for the old house and she certainly hadn’t said anything to her mother about it.
“Why would Mum want me to go back to being a chef? She knows how much I love working here on the farm.”
“She worries you’re burying yourself in the work.”
A feeling of unease niggled in Mackenna’s chest. “I love Woolly Swamp, Dad. I’ve devoted my life to the place for the last nine years. I thought you were happy with what we’re doing?”
“I am, love, I am.” Lyle’s lips turned up into a smile and he placed a hand gently on her arm. “So much has happened in the last few months and your mother worries. Your idea for a farm gate sounds good, but we’ve so much else on the go at the moment and I’m still not firing on all cylinders. We can do up the kitchen if you want but keep it simple, and I wouldn’t go mentioning restaurants and fine dining to your mother. We’ve got to get the meat right first.”
“We are getting it right.” Mackenna waved her arms as she spoke. “The restaurant in Robe says customers rave over it. Our reputation is excellent.”
“One local restaurant isn’t an empire.”
“But there will be others.”
Lyle rubbed his forehead. “Let’s get our head around this genetic stuff first. I like the sound of what we talked about with Hugh the other night.”
He gave her another pat then lifted his head at the sound of a vehicle. “That will be your mother home. Time to go in for some lunch.”
“I’ll be there in a minute.” Mackenna waited for him go then walked slowly through the rooms of the old house. With not a curtain or a stitch of furniture, her footsteps echoed on the polished wooden floors. Nonetheless she felt comfortable in this house. It settled around her like a soft shawl. Maybe her great-grandparents were smiling down, happy to see their home come to life again. She stopped in the big room they’d created out of the two on the right side of the passage. Its walls had been painted in the same cream as they’d used in the other rooms and the old skirting boards had been redone in white.
In her mind she could see the tasting room across the passage decked out like a cellar door. In this room she pictured a grand dining table laid out with a linen tablecloth and napkins. She wanted to do it all. The stud she’d visited near Queenstown had been doing a great trade and had extended their markets through their farm gate dining.
Woolly Swamp lambs were delivered to the abattoir and processed the same day. The seaside restaurant that served the meat was happy with the quality and the local butcher was selling it. Before she’d left she’d got some interest from an Adelaide connection. The chef was a guy she’d worked with while she was still an apprentice. He was now head chef at a small restaurant in the city and looking for unique influences for his menu. Getting a couple of restaurants to use their meat would be a good step. Then she wanted to find some city butchers who would stock Woolly Swamp meat. Once people experienced it at a restaurant, she hoped they’d be keen to try cooking it for themselves.
Mackenna poked her head back into the kitchen. The cupboards had rotted away and been removed. The only things remaining were the taps under the window and the old electric oven that had replaced the original wood stove at some point in the past. Her parents had lived here when they were first married but it had been empty since.
She wished she could get them to understand the future she saw for Woolly Swamp. Suddenly, an image of Adam’s smiling face came to mind and the ache she’d been hiding surged through her. What had gone wrong? She really believed he loved her but he’d left without a word.
She dropped to a crouch, her back against the wall and put her head in her hands.
; “Adam, Adam, Adam,” she murmured.
Other than her father just now, Adam was the only person she’d talked to about her farm gate concept for Woolly Swamp. His ideas for tasting dishes and his enthusiasm for her vision had strengthened their bond. Or so she’d thought. A wave of longing swept over her as she recalled the week they’d spent together. How could she have been so wrong?
“Why did you leave?” she asked the empty room. “Why?” she called a little louder.
“Hello.” Cam’s voice echoed.
Mackenna stifled a groan and rose to her feet. That’s all she needed, for Cam to find her wallowing in self-pity.
“Mackenna?”
She pulled back her shoulders.
“Yes, in here.”
She turned to face him as he stepped through the back lobby into the kitchen. Her smile faded as he let forth with some foul language.
He took his cap from his head and dragged his fingers through his hair. “This place isn’t habitable yet,” he said. “I thought your dad said it was nearly finished.”
Mackenna felt defensive of her little project. “The rest of the rooms are ready to use. Just the kitchen needs doing now.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Cam looked around then raised his eyebrows at her. “I thought I heard a voice? You talking to yourself, boss?”
Mackenna turned away from his enquiring eyes and bent down to brush dust from her jeans. “You must be hearing the ghosts.”
“Ghosts! No-one told me this place was haunted.” Cam glanced around then back at her.
“Only friendly old family ancestors.” So the big tough guy was frightened of ghosts. Who’d have thought it? “I’ve never experienced nasty spirits here but I’m family . . .” She let her words hang in the air.
He shifted from foot to foot. The floorboards creaked beneath his weight. Mackenna held her palms up towards the ceiling. “Not everyone can sense them, you know, but I’ve always had an affinity with this place.”
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