He winced; he couldn’t help it. ‘Well, Tanya, it kind of is. I’ve come to tell you . . . oh shit, this is harder than I thought.’
Tanya frowned as she leant forward and touched his hand. ‘Tell me.’
Zane pulled his hand away, took a deep breath and stood up. ‘I’m sorry, I’m ending this. I do care about you but we can’t see each other anymore – it’s over.’
Tanya stared at him in silence for one, two, three heartbeats before she jumped up, sending the chair flying.
‘What the hell are you talking about?’
‘Just what I said – it’s over, Tanya. We’re done.’
‘What! Just like that? No warning, no thanks for the years I was here for you – just, “We’re done, see ya”.’ She advanced a step, and whether it was intentional or not, Zane found himself taking a step backwards. It was as if he was trying to maintain some distance between them.
‘I’m sorry – I am; but it’s not working anymore. We’re not going anywhere.’
‘That’s because you haven’t had the balls to come out and say to everyone in this goddamn town that we’re together. Your father acts as if I don’t exist, and the only time I’ve been to Cara Downs was when your dad was away on business. We’re not going anywhere because you won’t let us.’
‘Tanya, this has nothing to do with Dad. It’s just that it’s complicated.’
‘Complicated my arse. I’m good enough to screw for the past five years but I’m not good enough to meet your dad or marry. That’s what it all boils down to.’
Zane’s silence was telling. He moved his weight from one foot to the other and wondered how long it would take to get to the door.
‘Geez, you actually believe it, don’t you? You’re not even going to try and deny it.’ Tanya’s hands were tightly clenched, and her eyes were dark with fury.
‘I’m sorry. We had some good times, but it’s over.’ Zane took a couple of steps towards the door. ‘And it’s not that I think you’re not good enough – this had nothing to do with that.’
‘Then what’s it about? Come on, tell me.’
It was his chance to be open and tell her the truth. She deserved that, didn’t she? But somehow he just couldn’t form the words. Instead of revealing how close he was to losing everything, he let the silence hang between them.
‘This isn’t over – not by a long shot. You’ve got someone else, haven’t you? Who is she?’
‘There’s no one. I’m not seeing anyone else. I’m ending this because it’s not working. It’s not fun anymore.’
‘Not fun! You bastard, you said that there’d be a future for us . . . you said that we’d have babies and run Cara Downs together. Goddamn it, Zane, I love you.’
‘Do you? Or do you just see me as a way of getting what you want?’ Just like I did with Bec, he wanted to add but couldn’t. The truth be told, he had used both of them to get what he wanted, and he was about to try and do it Bec again. There was no room for regret, he told himself harshly. He had to do whatever it took to save the homestead.
‘I’ve wasted years on you.’
‘But I thought you just said that you love me.’
‘Go to hell,’ Tanya said as she picked up his coffee cup and threw it at him.
Zane managed to slip through the doorway before the cup slammed against the wall. He hightailed it to the car as quickly as he could. Tanya was still yelling at him. Was he a coward to run away? Probably, but he didn’t care. It was done and that was all that mattered. A small terracotta flowerpot smashed against the side of his car. He turned on the engine and drove off before Tanya could catch up with him. From the safety of his rear-view mirror he saw her run out into the road and lob another flowerpot in his direction. This time it smashed as soon as it hit the bitumen. Zane turned his attention to the road ahead and didn’t look back.
***
It had been pretty windy overnight. Bec’s hopes that it would blow up into a damn good storm had come to nothing; it was just a lot of wind and a brief rain shower that had only skirted the fringes of White Gum Creek. The whole storm front, which had been so promising in the forecasts, had blown off and headed south. It was a shame, as the dams and the water tanks could certainly have done with it. Bec wanted to make sure that there was no damage. Other than a piece of tin off the old shed and a couple of branches coming down in the top paddock, Bluestone Ridge appeared to have come through the wild weather fairly unscathed. Just to make sure, she jumped into her ute and inspected the boundary fences.
It wasn’t until she neared Matt’s place that she noticed that a couple of huge branches of an old gum tree had come down on the one bit of fence that they shared. Now, that was no one’s fault – the wind last night had been strong and gums drop their branches every now and then. Bec stopped the car and went for a closer look. The branches were big and had taken out a decent section of the wire dropper fence.
Bec went around to the front of the house and banged on the door. She expected that Matt was tied to his keyboard and immersed in his latest novel. After a couple of moments she knocked again but there was still no answer. Guess he wasn’t home after all. She realised that his car wasn’t there, which verified his obvious absence. With a sigh, Bec headed back to her ute and the downed fence. If she left it like it was there was a good chance that her sheep would get it in their heads to go for a walk. No, she needed to address the problem – sooner rather than later. Bec got back in her car and drove home. She hadn’t wanted to spend a good chunk of her day cutting up branches and fixing fences but what else could she do? She needed to get a chain and the tractor as one branch had fallen on top of the other. Bec had to move them before she could even start to saw them up.
Once back at home it didn’t take her long to assemble the things she needed and place them on the tractor. She mentally checked off the items as she stowed them on board – chainsaw, safety goggles, work gloves and the all-important thermos of hot coffee. Bec settled into the tractor seat and turned the key in the ignition – nothing. Absolutely bloody nothing. Frustration flared through her like a wildfire. She tried the ignition again and there wasn’t a sound at all, let alone the engine turning over. Bec got off the tractor and kicked it. It didn’t help the situation but it made her feel better. Damn useless piece of crap. Great, just great.
Bec pulled her phone out of her pocket. She hesitated for a second before she scrolled down through her contacts and found the number she was looking for. To hell with what her dad would say. She was prepared to pay good money for someone else to deal with the fallen branch and try to mend the shitty tractor.
‘Oh hey, Jamie. It’s Bec Duprey here – just wondering if you were busy today?’ She paused as Jamie Bannon rattled off a greeting. ‘Listen, I’ve got a problem. A few branches have come down on the boundary fence between us and Matt Harvey’s place. It has to be cleared and a section of fence needs to be repaired . . . You can? Oh, that’s great – yeah, see you in about an hour. If I get held up, the chainsaw is in the big shed but the tractor is out of action . . . Yeah, again – oh, I know. See you later. Thanks. Bye.’
As soon as she ended the call she scrolled through her contacts again. She had called Pearl’s number so often lately, she should probably put it at the top of the list, she thought wryly.
‘Hey, Pearl, it’s Bec Duprey here. The tractor’s broken down again.’ She winced as she heard Pearl’s hearty laugh from the other end of the line. ‘Yes, I understand that you’re not a miracle worker but I’d appreciate it if you could look at the thing. You can? Thanks, you’re a life saver.’
With the broken fence and the tractor sorted, Bec headed back to the house. Jamie would be here soon but she had a bit of time up her sleeve. She hurried into the kitchen, calling out hello as she went, but no one answered back. Bec guessed that her father must have had an appointment and Maggie would have gone with him. She walked back out to the shed and remembered to grab her thermos of coffee out of the tractor. Taking her mo
torbike, she headed up to the ridge. It had become a daily pilgrimage over the years, and since she’d been doing it for such a long time, somehow it didn’t seem right if she missed it. She was never there very long – twenty minutes, maybe half an hour. Just long enough to drink her coffee, take in the landscape and think. She looked across to the hills, past the paddocks which were punctuated with the grey-green tones of the gums. A mob of her sheep stood placidly eating grass. She sat down, leant back against one of the tall eucalypts and cracked open her thermos. As she poured herself a coffee, its rich aroma mixed with the cool air that blew around the top of the ridge. She took a sip, gave a small smile and stared off across the land to the horizon beyond. Wool-gathering, her grandma would have called it, or indulgence in aimless thought. She focused on the great open sky and tried to empty her head of all thoughts of the farm, her father and even Matt Harvey. But as soon as she thought of him she was unable to shake him from her mind. Why the hell was she even thinking about him anyway? She didn’t even like him – did she? That was to say, he seemed alright and was easy enough to talk to, but that didn’t mean he had to keep strolling through her head.
Bec glanced over in the direction of Matt’s cottage and wondered if he was home yet. She made a mental note that she should drop back over there later – just to let him know what was going on with the fence. As she swung her gaze back to the sheep a movement caught her eye. Matt Harvey was walking across her land. She narrowed her eyes and tried to make out what he was doing but he was too far away.
With growing interest she watched as he trekked across the paddock. He’d stop every now and then and look around as if he was searching for something. At first she found the sight of Matt in the middle of the paddock amusing. If ever there was a fish out of water, he was it. But she frowned and stood up as he tripped and took a tumble into a large patch of gorse. He was still using that walking stick and maybe she’d better get down there before he really did himself some damage.
Bec turned away and started down the ridge to where her motorbike was waiting. When she was about halfway down she saw the reason why Matt was trespassing on her land. Standing close to the flock of sheep were two goats. Every time Matt edged near the sheep they would back away and so would the goats. Bec jumped onto her bike and drove along the corrugated dirt track that led to the paddock and her hapless neighbour. As she pulled up alongside Matt she noticed that his expression was a mixture of apprehension and relief. Bec cut the engine, got off the bike and sauntered over to him.
She gave him a slight nod. ‘Hey.’
‘Hi Bec. Look, I’m sorry to be trespassing but Greta and Mabel got away.’
‘Greta and Mabel?’
Matt flushed. ‘Um . . . my goats.’
‘Ah, I see.’
‘The wind last night brought down a branch that decimated part of our shared fence line. I was going to call you so we could figure out how to fix it when I noticed the girls were on your side of the fence. So I went after them. I was thinking, God only knows why, that it couldn’t take me long to herd them back to my place. But every time I get near them they run off. I’ve been at it now for a couple of hours.’
‘Well, goats can be tricky.’
‘You’re telling me. Now it appears that they both want to be sheep.’ Bec followed Matt’s gaze over to the goats. They were standing among the sheep and looking pretty bloody pleased with themselves. ‘Looks like the flock have adopted them,’ he added.
Bec bit back a smile. ‘Well, I’m sure we can wrangle them back.’
‘Really? I can’t get near them.’
‘Yes, really.’
‘Thanks, I’d appreciate it. After hours of chasing them, I think I should rename them Demon and Devil’s Spawn.’
‘Catchy – they certainly have a ring to them.’ Bec noticed that Matt looked pale and he had dirt on his jeans where he’d fallen over. Each time he took a step, he leaned heavily on his walking stick. It was pretty clear to Bec that he was worn out and hurting. She walked back to her bike, pulled out the spare helmet and handed it to Matt.
‘Here, put this on and I’ll give you a ride back to your place.’
He looked at the bike longingly. ‘Um, what about Demon and Devil’s Spawn?’
‘I don’t think they’ll get into too much mischief with their new friends. I saw the fence earlier – I’ve called Jamie Bannon and he’s going to clear the fallen branches and do the repairs. He’ll give me a hand later to get the goats in.’
‘But I should help.’
‘It’s alright – I’ve got it covered. I’ll drop them over later, okay?’
‘Thanks, that’d be great.’ Matt put the helmet on and adjusted the strap under his chin.
‘Come on, I’ll take you home. I reckon you look like you need a cup of tea.’ Bec swung onto the bike. She felt the motorcycle dip a bit more as Matt sat behind her. Then his hands encircled her waist. They were warm and, Bec had to admit, a bit disconcerting.
‘Thanks, Bec, I think you’re right.’
***
Matt’s leg was aching . . . no, throbbing was a better description. He’d spent hours walking up nearly every hill and gully of Bluestone Ridge looking for his two wayward goats. He’d been increasing his exercise program and working on his leg but the aimless searching of this morning had taken its toll. His doctor and physio had both assured him that he was making good progress but it sure as hell didn’t feel like that today.
He hung on to Bec’s waist as the motorcycle bumped over the uneven ground of the paddocks. The brief rain the previous night had softened patches of the ground and the bike managed to find a couple of muddy potholes. Crossing Bluestone Ridge, Matt could see that grass was trying to claw its way back from the drought but there were still great swathes of the paddocks which were bare of any vegetation.
Matt was grateful that Bec had turned up when she had, although he got the feeling that she probably thought him inept. This wasn’t the first time that he had appeared clueless when it came to living in the bush.
‘You okay back there?’ Bec said over her shoulder.
‘Yeah – I’m fine.’
‘Good. It won’t take long to get you back to the cottage.’
‘The rain was good last night,’ Matt said, feeling the need to carry on the conversation.
‘Yeah, it was. But we need a hell of a lot more before next spring if we’re going get through the summer.’
After several more minutes Bec pulled up in front of Matt’s place.
‘There you go. I’ll drop round with your goats later.’
Matt got off the bike. ‘Thanks, Bec – I appreciate it. Sorry if I’ve caused any trouble.’
‘No trouble. It wasn’t as if you summoned up the storm and caused the branches to fall.’
‘Do you want to come in for a drink?’
Bec hesitated for a second and Matt was sure that she was going to say no.
‘Sure, why not?’
‘Is tea okay?’
‘Sounds good.’
She climbed off the bike and followed him up to the house. He was conscious of her presence behind him and her soft footsteps on the old cement path. Each time he was with Bec everything around him seemed heightened, clearer, maybe even more intense – how weird was that?
‘Come on in,’ he said as he looked back at her.
She nodded but said nothing as she followed him through the small lounge room, which was stuffed with overflowing bookcases, and into the much clearer space of the kitchen.
‘Wow, you’ve got a lot of books.’
‘Well, I can’t deny it. Some are for research but others I just can’t bear to part with.’ He flicked on the kettle and opened up a bottom cupboard and took out an old wooden tray. With deft movements he made a pot of green tea and grabbed a couple of cups and saucers.
He was aware that Bec was watching his every move and wasn’t sure if he liked it or not. She seemed to be sizing him up, or something to that effect
. He placed everything on the tray and went to pick it up.
‘Here, I’ll get that,’ Bec said as she pushed herself off the doorframe. ‘Your leg’s hurting.’
‘I’m not an invalid.’
‘Never said you were. But you have to admit that you’re buggered from all the walking,’ she said.
Matt was about to respond with a tart quip. It hurt him to think that she thought of him like that – as someone who wasn’t even capable of carrying a tray – but he stopped himself when she shook her head as she took the tray into the lounge room.
‘This hasn’t got anything to do with me thinking you’re weak,’ she continued. ‘It’s just obvious that you need to rest your leg. Sometimes, even when it almost kills us to admit it, we all need a bit of help.’
Matt blew out a breath as he sat down on the leather couch. His leg was giving him hell and Bec was right. He just had to accept it.
‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to get all defensive.’
Bec shrugged. ‘Not a problem.’
Bec set the tray down on the small coffee table and poured the tea. A silence settled over the room; it should have been uncomfortable but it wasn’t.
‘So other than writing books and chasing goats around, what else do you do?’ Bec handed him a cup and he caught the scent of the fragrant tea as a wisp of steam wafted up.
‘Um, I guess I read. I’ve also discovered that I enjoy walking around here – well, maybe not today. I’ve pushed myself too far and I know it.’
‘Anything else?’
‘I vlog.’
Bec gave him a baffled look. ‘I’m sorry, what?’
‘A vlog. It’s a video blog post. I’ve been doing it for about a year now.’
‘So you record yourself and put it up on the internet so people can watch it?’
‘Yep.’
Bec frowned. ‘What on earth do you talk about?’
‘Lots of things. Sometimes I talk about my books or the research I’ve been doing. Other times, I talk about the cottage and my valiant efforts in DIY.’
‘Okay . . . I don’t think I’d know what to say.’
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