“This came with one of my book sets. It’s no good to me but maybe you could use it.”
Hugh looked at the item George pressed into his hands. It was a small compendium. Travel Diary was etched in black lettering on the front cover. He opened it to reveal a blank notebook, a pen and tiny calculator which included currency conversions according to the plastic sticker. A sudden sense of longing swept over him. Hugh closed the cover. He had no idea what he’d do with it but knew he couldn’t refuse the gift.
“Thanks, Mr Johnstone.”
“You’ve a kind heart like your mother, lad.”
Hugh extricated himself from the old man’s grip and returned to his vehicle. What a strange visit that had turned out to be. George was a funny old bloke, but his words had shaken something awake in Hugh. He glanced at the travel diary he’d tossed on the passenger seat. Old George could just have easily poked him in the chest and told him to stop marking time, because Hugh now realised that’s what he was doing. Life here had become comfortable but what would he be giving up if he stayed? What would he lose if he went? Mackenna’s smile danced before his eyes.
Mackenna! Should he tell her what he’d found out about Cam? It may be nothing. Cam could just be making some money from a perk the Birches allowed him, but Hugh kept playing the thought over in his head. It just didn’t sit right.
He was still thinking about it as he drove to Rory’s shop. He stopped at an intersection and a familiar ute crossed the road in front of him. It was loaded up with drums, treated pine posts, wire and several other items. Of all people, it was Cam. He could have been doing anything, but he was driving in the opposite direction to the road leading to the Birches’ farm.
On a whim Hugh decided to follow him, glad he was in his father’s ute rather than the work four-wheel drive with signage all over it. Near the edge of town Cam stopped and backed into a driveway. Hugh hung back a while then cruised slowly past. Surveillance looked simple when people did it on TV shows but he felt as conspicuous as if he had flashing lights and a siren wailing.
Hugh glanced down the driveway. Cam had backed up to a dilapidated shed. One door was partly open and he was carrying a post into the shed. Hugh drove on. The far end of the street marked the edge of town and was a dead end bounded by paddocks. He turned the ute around and drove back along the street. This time he saw Cam take a small drum into the shed. Hugh kept driving. He turned back the way he’d come and pulled over.
After about ten minutes Cam drove past, heading in the opposite direction, probably to the Birches’. The back of the ute still had most of the earlier contents Hugh had seen. He sat a little longer. He had an uneasy feeling and yet it all could be quite legitimate. There’s nothing wrong with buying extra stuff for a friend or yourself and dropping it off before taking the boss’s supplies to the farm.
He’d wasted half an hour playing super sleuth and was no closer to getting any answers. Better to mind his own business and do what he’d come to town to do, and that was to collect the things he’d organised for his mother from Rory.
It didn’t take him long to get them loaded. Rory had breathed new life into the old garden setting and he’d made a fantastic bird-bath. Hugh knew his mother was going to love it. Heading out of town with the load tied on the back reminded him of Mackenna and the day he’d helped her put in the sheep sculptures. Just like old times, they’d laughed and enjoyed each other’s company. Just like old times . . . Hugh gripped the steering wheel a little tighter. He knew what he had to do.
Mackenna looked around at the sound of a ute. It was Cam, and he was late again. She watched as he drove to the far side of the yard and disappeared from sight. In the shearing shed behind her Garry and his crew were finished and just cleaning up ready to head off. Lucky for Cam they hadn’t needed the extra chemicals she’d sent him into town a couple of hours ago to get. They’d eked out the last of what they had so the crutching could be finished.
“Thanks for running such a good operation, Mack.”
She turned to see Garry walking her way with his hand outstretched. She took it and returned his firm shake.
“Thanks for coming at short notice,” she said. “It’s saved us a lot of work.”
“No probs,” Garry said. “And don’t forget that dead sheep.”
One of the crossbreeds had run flat out, headbutted a rail and broken its neck. They’d lifted it over the fence out of the way, but it needed to be disposed of.
“I asked Cam to do it. He’s back now and went in that direction, so he’s probably dealing with it now.”
Mackenna shook the other blokes’ hands.
“Mr Finn!”
They all turned to see Yasmine hurrying towards them waving a piece of paper in her hand. “I was worried I’d missed you,” she said. She stopped and put her other hand to her chest. “Phew, not fit these days.” She offered the paper to Garry. “These are my details if you want those cakes. I’d be happy to make them for you.”
“Thanks,Yassie.” Garry’s face lit up in a big smile. He flapped the paper. “I’ll let you know.”
Mackenna and Yasmine watched as the men got into their vehicles and waved goodbye.
“Well,” Mackenna said, “how about you getting some business from Garry? He’d be the last person I’d expect to want fancy cakes.”
“His son’s birthday is coming up and his wife doesn’t like cooking cakes. I said I’d make some of the farm animals if he wanted. I’m not charging for them.”
“You should,” Mackenna laughed. “You never know when having another string to your bow will come in handy. You did a great job with the food, Yassie. Thank you. I couldn’t have done that and worked the shed.”
“Happy to help. Where’s Patrick?”
“Returning sheep to the paddock.”
“Is there anything more I can do?”
“There’s a bit of stuff to take back to the house.”
They went inside the shed and filled a couple of boxes with the kettle, cups, tea and coffee.
A slow-moving vehicle was heading their way.
“Maybe it’s Patrick,” Yasmine said.
She hurried to the door. There was a loud crash as the box of cups hit the floor and she staggered backwards.
“What’s wrong?” Mackenna rushed to her side just in time to see Cam pass by in his ute, dragging the dead sheep by a rope tied to the tow bar.
“Oh for heaven’s sake! What an idiot he can be.” Thank goodness the dogs were with Patrick. Mackenna put an arm around Yasmine who had both hands pressed to her mouth. “Are you okay?”
Yasmine nodded.
“You’re not going to be sick?”
Yasmine shook her head, watching Mackenna with big round eyes.
“Do you want to sit down?”
Yasmine lifted her hands away from her mouth. “Was that . . . was that sheep alive?”
“Oh, no. It killed itself earlier.”
Yasmine looked at her in surprise and Mackenna realised how flippant that sounded.
“It was an accident,” she said. “It hit its head and broke its neck. It died instantly. I asked Cam to get rid of it but I didn’t expect him to do it that way. Putting it in the back of his ute would have been a better option.”
“The poor thing.” Yasmine looked down at the box of crockery. “I’m sorry. I’ve broken some of your cups.”
“Don’t worry,” Mackenna said as they sank to their heels to pick up a few broken pieces. “It’s only old stuff Mum keeps for the shearing shed. There’s plenty more.” Mackenna was glad Yasmine hadn’t thrown up again. Being a pregnant vegetarian on a farm was fraught with danger.
Once she knew Yasmine was safely on her way back to the house, Mackenna went in search of Cam. She found him unloading a container at the chemical shed.
“What do you think you’re doing?” she snapped.
“Unloading the chemical. I’m guessing you don’t need it at the shed anymore.”
“I mean that busi
ness with the sheep.”
“The sheep?”
“The dead one.”
“You told me to get rid of it.”
“Yes, but I didn’t expect you to drag it across the yard by its feet.”
Cam shrugged his shoulders. “It was dead.”
“It would have been better in the back of the ute.”
“Then I would have had to clean out the ute.”
Mackenna put her hands to her hips in exasperation.
Cam gave her a grin. He walked right up to her then around to the door of his ute.
“Where are you going now?” she asked.
“To replace that O ring on the pivot. I didn’t get to it before crutching.”
Damn it, she’d forgotten about the pivot.
He came back and stopped just in front of her again. “Unless there’s something else you want me to do?”
She met his look. “No. It needs changing, you’d better do it.”
“Then it’ll be knock-off time. I’m staying at my mate’s again tonight.”
Before Mackenna had a chance to speak he was in his ute and driving away. She watched him go, frustration gnawing in her chest. She hadn’t found out why he’d been gone so long this afternoon. He’d been elusive the whole time the men were crutching and hadn’t eaten with them at all. Not that he hadn’t done any work, just opted for all the outside jobs and stayed in town each night. And he hadn’t done anything wrong other than being late this afternoon and insensitive in dealing with a dead animal. Mackenna couldn’t put her finger on what annoyed her about him but something wasn’t right.
CHAPTER
34
“We’ll have to head back to Adelaide again tomorrow,” Patrick said through a mouthful of pizza.
None of them had felt like cooking once the last of the cleaning up had been done, so Patrick had volunteered to drive into town for pizza.
“So soon?” Mackenna was enjoying having Patrick and Yasmine around. Although it had been a busy time and she hadn’t seen a lot of them, they’d played a part in ensuring the crutching ran to schedule.
“We’ve been here for four days,” Patrick said. “I’ve got work to get ready for Monday. You said things would calm down here for a while.”
“You’re right,” Mackenna said. “At least until Mum and Dad get back.”
“Have you heard from them?”Yasmine asked.
“No,” Mackenna said.
“Yes,” Patrick said.
Both women looked at him.
“I forgot to tell you, they rang last night.”
“How are they going?” Mackenna asked.
“Having a great time. I didn’t speak to Dad but Mum raved on for ages. They’re in Wellington about to head to the South Island.”
“You didn’t mention crutching?” Mackenna wanted her father to enjoy his holiday. If he knew they were crutching early, he’d be anxious.
“I didn’t get a chance. I told Mum everything was fine here. The only question from Dad in the background was whether it had rained.”
Yasmine took a bite of the lamb pizza. Mackenna watched her take a second mouthful.
“I thought meat upset your stomach?”
“I’m feeling better now,” Yasmine said. “I love meat normally.”
“You do?”
“Yes. I’m not a vegetarian. It was just that, right from the early stages of my pregnancy, I was totally turned off the smell of any kind of meat cooking.”
Mackenna gaped as Yasmine wiped her fingers and her mouth on a serviette. Just one more surprise to add to the mix.
Yasmine put her arms around Patrick. “You didn’t drop the baby into the conversation you had with your parents?” she said playfully.
“Sure Yas, right between Mum saying they were enjoying the sights of Wellington and me saying there was no rain here I slipped in, ‘And by the way you’re going to be a grandma’.”
They all laughed.
“Seriously, Patch, when are you going to tell them?” Mackenna asked.
“Good luck with that,”Yasmine said and patted her belly. “I can’t hide it much longer but Patrick keeps sticking his head in the sand.”
“I’ll tell them when they get back,” Patrick said. “In my own way.” He gave Yasmine a determined look.
“Well, I’m off to have a bath,”Yasmine said. “Your lovely deep bath is so luxurious.”
Patrick kissed her as she left.
“You’ve changed a lot over the last couple of months, baby brother,” Mackenna said.
“In what way?”
She chose her words carefully. “You’re a lot more mature. Maybe it’s the responsibility of becoming a father.”
“Maybe, or maybe I’ve always been this way but you haven’t noticed.”
“We worked well together over crutching.”
“I must admit I’ve never realised until now what a big job that is.”
“And I’ll admit I was a bit nervous without Dad here but we did it.” Mackenna lifted her hand and they high-fived. “And only a few minor mishaps.”
“Yeah, I keep forgetting to ask you about that,” Patrick said. “Those two mobs that ended up in the same paddock. What was the go there?”
“They weren’t meant to be, but Cam said he sorted it before they got too mixed up.”
“So he should.” Patrick snorted. “It was his mistake in the first place.”
“His mistake?”
“I knew there were already sheep in that paddock. I was surprised when he said that was where you wanted the next mob.”
“But he said . . .” Mackenna’s voice trailed off. Luckily she’d realised straight away they’d put a mob of crossbreeds in with a mob of Corriedales. Cam had said he’d sort it and he did, but not before pointing the blame at Patrick.
“He said what?”
Mackenna looked at her brother. They’d had such a smooth run lately she didn’t want to rock the boat.
“He said it was my fault, didn’t he?”
She nodded. “It doesn’t matter. It’s sorted.”
“Once again Patrick is the scapegoat.” He started collecting the empty pizza boxes then he stopped and leaned in towards Mackenna. “I tried to tell Cam there were sheep in that paddock but he wouldn’t listen, said that was where you wanted them and you were the boss. Who was I to disagree? I’m only the silly young brother.”
Mackenna stared at him. “That’s quite a chip on your shoulder, Patch,” she said gently.
“I don’t mind being the butt of the jokes when I do something stupid.”
Mackenna raised her eyebrows.
“But I’m not taking the blame for everything that goes wrong around here,” he snapped.
Here we go. Mackenna could feel her own irritation rising. “Like what?”
“Like gates being left open, sheep in the wrong paddock, water not being checked. Who do you blame when I’m not here?” Patrick’s voice was low but his eyes blazed.
Mackenna opened her mouth and closed it. Cam’s smirking face came straight to mind. When Patrick wasn’t around and things went wrong, Cam always had an explanation to shift the blame. But when she thought about it, if Patrick was around, Cam often managed to point the finger at him. She felt a pang of guilt that she had been so ready to believe the hired help over her brother.
“I know I’m not as up on farming as you and Dad,” Patrick said, “but I’m not an idiot.”
He held her gaze a moment longer then picked up the stack of pizza boxes and went outside.
Mackenna sat and thought back over the time since she’d returned from her holiday and found Cam installed in the family home. He always had a ready answer for everything. By the time Patrick came back to the kitchen Mackenna had replayed several events, but without the shutters over her eyes.
“Patrick, can you sit a moment?” she asked tentatively.
He paused then came and sat opposite her.
“I want to ask you something and I don’t wan
t you to get antsy,” Mackenna said. “It’s just a question.”
He rolled his eyes but remained seated.
“Do you remember when we were drenching sheep?”
“Of course, and you told me off for wasting drench. That was the day I got a call from Yasmine in the hospital.”
“I didn’t know that. What happened?”
“She couldn’t keep anything down and she was dehydrated. They put her in hospital for a couple of days.”
“You poor things,” Mackenna said. “I wish I’d known about the baby back then.”
“Anyway,” Patrick said, “back to me wasting drench.”
“Yes, well forget that bit. I remember you taking that call now. I was annoyed at the time.”
Patrick snorted. “What’s new?”
Mackenna ignored him. “When you dosed those sheep, do you remember giving any of them extra?”
“Of course not. I’d already been told off for wasting drench. Anyway, isn’t it poisonous if they get too much?”
Mackenna nodded. “Three sheep died that day.”
“And I’m to blame, I suppose?”
“That’s not what I’m saying.” In Mackenna’s mind she replayed Cam taking over the drenching from Patrick, then finding the dead sheep, and Cam pointing the blame clearly at Patrick but convincing her not to say anything. She’d been manipulated.
“What are you saying then?” Patrick asked.
“In hindsight I think Cam did it. He’s good at bluffing his way through things. I don’t think he knew as much about drenching as he made out. When we found those dead sheep he pointed the finger at you but made me feel like a heel if I mentioned it.”
“And you went along with it.” Patrick shook his head slowly. “What else have I taken the fall for that I didn’t do?”
“I don’t know,” Mackenna replied vaguely.
“What did you say last week about me not shutting the gate over at Murphy’s place?”
“I don’t want to fight with you, Patrick.”
“I’m not looking for a fight, but what you didn’t let me tell you when you accused me of not taking responsibility was that Cam ended up doing that job. Dad asked me to help him with a water trough and Cam said he’d check the sheep on his way to town.”
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