Taming the Outback

by Ann B. Harrison

  “Tom, I am so sorry.” She glanced guiltily at the dinner he’d cooked while she had languished in the tub. ‘”You worked harder than me, and you should be the one resting, not me.”

  “Stop beating yourself up, woman.” He grabbed plates from the sideboard and laid them out on the table. He then dished up a big feed of bacon and eggs and chips. “The world won’t fall apart if you don’t have everything under control, you know.”

  “I know you’re right, but I’m not used to having anyone doing for me.” She gladly accepted the food, the smell waking her and making her stomach rumble loudly.

  “Deal with it.” Tom smiled. “If it makes you feel any better, you can do the dishes.”

  “Done,” she agreed, tucking into her food. It had been a hard few days, and tomorrow wouldn’t be any easier, with the house to batten down and the shed to clear in case the water swamped that as well.

  ***

  When they woke the next morning, it was to the sound of heavy rain tattooing a steady beat on the old tin roof. The water overfilled the gutters and fell in sheets around the house. The humidity in the ground and the rain combined to fog up the windows Holly was drawing stick fingers on.

  Tom advised Libby to keep the kids home from school, much to their delight. They would be more use on the station, anyway, as the amount of stock needing to be moved was more than Tom and Libby could cope with on their own.

  Tom sent Josh and Winton with two of the dogs in one direction, while he saddled up to go in another.

  “Please, Tom,” Holly begged. “Let me come too. I can ride good enough now.”

  Tom looked over her head to where Libby was shaking her head. He was fast becoming her favorite person, and she dogged his every step.

  “Do you think it’ll be safe?” she asked, trying to avoid the pleading look in her baby’s eyes.

  “I’d never take her if it wasn’t, Libby,” he said. “I want to stay this side of the creek if I can, but she should be fine if she’s rugged up against the wet. I don’t expect any flooding to hit us until tomorrow at any rate.”

  “Get your coat, Holly, and your hat.” Libby’s stomach clenched at the thought of a flood now that the possibility was here. Turning back to Tom, she asked, “What should I do here?”

  “If you could lug the stock feed bags up into the shearing shed in case the water comes in here; that would save us a heap of money. Any tools that are lying around can be put up high. Move the truck out onto the high side of the driveway too.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. “The water pump on the house tanks could be put up on something, just in case, there are some old, concrete blocks out the back of the stables you can use. You might want to fill some jugs with water in case the pump gets caught. Fill the generator with diesel and make sure you put candles and torches where we can find them easily enough. Fairly good chance we could lose power too if we get enough of a storm tonight. That should take care of things until I get back.”

  Libby helped to saddle up Puddin’ and watched as they headed out, the older dog with Tom. She headed back to the kitchen for a quick coffee and to get out the torches and candles as Tom had suggested. Deciding a casserole was a good idea for dinner, she put some steak and vegetables in the slow cooker and putting her hat on her head, ran through the rain to move the feed up into the shearing shed.

  Libby found a small trolley and moved the heavy sacks of grain, one at a time, struggling with the weight of them while her mind ran over the dangers heading their way. She kept her eye on the door, looking for Tom and Holly to come back through the downpour. The rain grew heavier as the morning progressed. Libby stood and looked in the direction they had ridden hours before, and a small seed of doubt niggled in the back her mind. She squinted to see through the rain, but nothing was moving in her direction. Even the stock was huddled with their backs to the rain, heads down as they waited it out.

  He knows what he’s doing.

  Winton was brought up in this environment too, and Josh could ride well enough. Tom knew more about the place than anyone else, and her baby would be safe with him. She knew that, but still, a small trickle of fear shivered up and down her spine as she looked out into the worsening weather.

  She ran back through the rain to grab a coffee and sandwich and see to the pups that were at a loss without the kids. They whimpered at the door, pacing and unable to settle down, making her already unsettled nerves ratchet up a notch. She stared at the phone on the wall with the neighbor’s numbers beside it.

  Should I call someone? Pull yourself together, Libby. What are you going to say? “Hi, Nathan, it’s Libby. Tom and the kids are out in the rain bringing in the stock, and I have a funny feeling.”

  Deal with it.

  They have a lot of ground to cover, and it’s pouring down rain. Go do something and make yourself useful. She had never been a drama queen, and now wasn’t the time to start; there was still too much to do.

  Libby jammed her sodden hat back on her head. She ran over to the shed again, slipping and landing in puddles deeper than they looked. Her boots filled with cold, muddy water, squelching as she ran. The shed was getting that musty, wet smell she remembered from rainy school lunch breaks when everyone had to eat in the covered, outdoor area with wet socks and shoes.

  The stock feed had been moved, and she’d sorted out most of the tools. The lambs could do with a feed by the noise they were making. She made up their bottles and ran through the rain around to the stable, sat herself down on a bale of damp hay, held the bottles out to them and watched, fascinated, as they drained bottle after bottle.

  The loud sound of horse’s hooves striking through water attracted her attention, and she looked up to see Josh and Winton cantering down the drive through the puddles and pouring rain toward the shed. Dropping the bottles on the straw-strewn floor, she ran out to meet them.

  Both boys were dripping with rain, and their eyes were huge in their frightened faces. Libby’s heart dropped to her stomach as she grabbed the reins of the closest horse.

  “Mum, the creeks come up, and we can’t find Tom and Libby,” Josh cried. “They must’ve crossed over.”

  “No.” The fear gripped her stomach into a tight knot, which threatened to bring up her coffee.

  “Call Nathan, missus,” Winton yelled over the noise of the storm as he turned his horse back to the drive. “We’ll ride over to his place and see if we can get to them from that side. Come on, Josh.”

  They trotted off down the driveway toward the road, working up to a full gallop before Libby could move. She ran toward the house, suddenly oblivious to the weather.

  Please, be there. Oh God, please, be there. With cold hands, she grabbed the phone off the wall and punched in his number.

  The phone rang and rang before a stranger answered. He was one of the farm workers, and he told her Nathan was bringing in his cows to the house paddocks but promised to get someone to tell him straight away.

  “Stay by the phone; I’ll get the boss to call you back,” he said before hanging up on her.

  Libby hung the phone up and slid down the wall to sit on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees as her body trembled.

  She would never forgive herself if something happened to them. My baby and Tom, I couldn’t bear it if they don’t come back. I should never have let them go out there.

  The shrill ring of the phone jolted her out of her horror, and she jumped up, pulling it roughly to her ear.

  “Nathan,” she begged, the tears falling now. “Help me, please.”

  “Where did they go?” he asked, his voice hard.

  “To bring in the cows by the creek.” She winced at his tone. “He said he wasn’t going to cross it, but the boys couldn’t find him. He’s taken Holly with him, Nathan. What am I going to do?”

  “For God’s sake, I can’t believe you let them go out in this. She’s just a little kid. Stay put and wait for me to call you back,” he stated. “I’ll take some of my men out, a
nd we’ll find them.” He hung up without another word.

  Libby walked around the kitchen, moving cups and running her hand over the table while constantly looking out the door into the rain. She couldn’t see across the driveway to the shed now. The rain was falling so hard. Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed the keys and ran out to the truck. She drove slowly, scared when she saw how much rain was on the road and in the front paddocks. The stock grate at the end of the driveway was full and overflowing. The dips on the sides of the road were gushing like tiny torrents into any low areas in the paddocks, pushing new rivers through the long grasses. Fences were almost under in some places, and she thanked God they had moved most of their stock in time. The amount of water coming down horrified her, but she pushed on toward Nathan’s farm.

  She crawled up the driveway at a snail’s pace and pulled up outside the shearing shed, looking for anyone. A head appeared at the window when she slammed the door shut and bolted for shelter of the shed.

  “Libby, what’s going on?” Molly came out to greet her. “Nathan’s not here.”

  “I know, but I couldn’t stay at home.” Her voice was starting to shake. “Tom and Holly are missing. We think they crossed the creek, and when the boys came back, they couldn’t find them. Nathan’s gone looking for them.”

  Molly came forward and took Libby in her arms, and the dam holding back Libby’s tears finally broke.

  “Nathan will find them,” Molly said. “Come in and sit with me for a bit. I’ll put the kettle on, and we can keep an eye out for them from here.” She guided Libby to a chair by the window of the shearer’s kitchen.

  “Was that your boys who came by a little while ago thundering through here like the devil was on their tails?”

  “Yeah, it was. Did they go out with Nathan?” Libby asked.

  “I think it was the other way around. They went bolting past as Nathan brought the cows in, and one of the boys talked to him, and the next thing I saw, there was Nathan storming off in the truck after them. Now I understand why.”

  Molly handed Libby a mug of coffee, and they both watched for any sign of life coming from the direction of the river where they thought Tom and Holly had crossed over.

  ***

  Nathan drove as fast as he could through the heavy rain toward the bottom paddocks where he thought Tom would have crossed the creek. The window was down in the truck, and the rain poured in, soaking him. His hat was pulled firmly down on his head as he scanned the paddocks for Tom and Holly. How could any mother let her child go out in this kind of weather? Typical city folk, they have no idea of the force of Mother Nature.

  Through the sleet, he spotted a dark shape, and he cursed Libby again as he drove toward it. Tom’s horse stood with its back to the rain, and Puddin’ was tucked in beside it. Throwing open the door, Nathan jumped from the truck, his eyes scanning the paddock for Holly and Tom.

  Putting his hands up to his mouth, he looked around before he called out. “Holly, Tom. Tom, answer me, damn it.” Nathan pushed through the soaked, long grass to where the creek was a raging torrent of dark, churning water. “Tom, Holly,” he yelled, trying to see through the thick curtain of rain.

  He stood, hands on hips and listened, hoping they were close enough to hear him.

  “Help, please, help me,” cried a child. Nathan’s stomach clenched, and he ran toward the voice. Holly was sitting at the edge of the water, clinging desperately to Tom, the pressure of the water pulling at his legs.

  “Back up, honey; I’ve got him.” Nathan nudged her out of the way and leaned down to slide his hands under Tom’s shoulders and pull him further up the bank.

  Tom screamed in pain, and Nathan heard Holly whimper beside him.

  “Sorry, mate, just hang on.” Nathan lay the man on the grass. He knelt beside him, checking for blood before pulling Holly into his chest and stroking her wet hair, trying to calm her. “Hell, Tom, what happened?”

  The older man grimaced in pain, his face gray and drawn. “Damned calves. They bolted into the river...ahh...thought we were gonna lose them. Sorry, Nathan. Shoulder...pulled it out when the horse shied.” He closed his eyes and groaned.

  Holly moved in Nathan’s arms and looked up at him. “Tom’s horse threw him in the water. I had to get him out, and I tried really hard, but he’s too heavy for me.”

  “You followed him into the water, Holly?” Nathan tried to keep the anger from his voice, remembering how it scared her.

  “Yes. He’s my best friend.” She leaned down and put her hand on Tom’s head, stroking his brow. “I couldn’t let him drown.”

  “I don’t know whether you are the bravest little girl I know or the silliest for putting yourself in danger.” Nathan cupped her face in his hands. “Tom is lucky he has you, Holly.”

  She smiled and shrugged her shoulders. “I know that.”

  Nathan shook his head and grinned in spite of the situation. Life through a child’s eyes is so much less complicated. “Can you stay with Tom while I bring the truck down, Holly?”

  “Of course, I will, but don’t be long. I’m cold, and Mum will be worried.”

  Your mother is going to get the biggest rocket of her bloody life when I get Tom sorted. “I’ll be as quick as I can. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Silly man, where would I go?” Holly looked up at him with the running down her face as she clutched Tom’s hand. In that moment, Nathan was lost. Somewhere in his empty, burned heart, this brave little girl had nicked a vein and carved her name in capital letters. Libby really had no idea what Nathan was going to do to her. She had some serious explaining to do, letting this child go so far from her in this weather.

  Nathan ran back to the truck and carefully backed it up to Tom. He opened the back doors and arranged empty feed sacks into a makeshift blanket.

  “Tom, mate, you’re going to have to help me here. I can’t get you into the truck by myself.” Nathan helped him sit up with Holly holding his arm still. Once Tom felt steady enough to stand, Nathan put his arm around the man’s back and leaned Tom into his body, lifting him to his feet. “Steady mate,” he said as Tom blanched. “Holly, climb in the back, and when I lift Tom up, I want you to hold his head so he doesn’t fall back, okay?”

  “I can do that.” She scrambled into the back of the truck and held her hands out, while Nathan hoisted Tom onto the tailgate. Once they had him resting comfortably, Nathan got in the front and started the engine. Slowly, he drove up the bank and headed for home.

  The thunder of horse’s hooves made him slow down. Winton and Josh pulled up alongside the truck, grins of relief on their faces when they saw Holly and Tom in the back.

  “We went right past here and didn’t see them, Nathan,” Winton said.

  “They were farther down on the edge of the river. Hard to see. Go and grab the horses and take them back, will you? They’re back just a little ways. I’ll have to take it slow, but tell your mother I’ve got them. I think Tom has dislocated his shoulder, but Holly is okay. She pulled him out of the river when his horse shied, chasing bloody calves.”

  “Sure thing.” Josh nodded, and he and Winton headed off to collect the horses and give Libby the good news.

  ***

  For what seemed like an eternity, they sat and watched for any signs of life. Two dark shapes appeared through the rain in the darkening afternoon as Libby was cradling her now cold coffee.

  She jumped up from her seat as soon as she spied them in the distance. With a cry, Libby looked out to see, the boys leading two extras horses, Puddin’ and Tom’s big bay horse.

  Her heart in her throat, she ran to Josh and Winton, clutching at their wet clothes, touching their faces to reassure herself they were standing there. “Where are they? Are they okay?” she begged for news.

  “Tom’s hurt, Mum.” Josh was quick to reassure her. “Not seriously, I don’t think, but Holly’s okay.”

  “Nathan is bringing them back in the truck,” Winton said. The boys he
aded to the shed and dismounted while Libby followed them, but kept turning in the direction they had come, looking for Nathan’s truck and the rest of her family.

  “What happened?” She wiped the rain from her face as she helped them dismount and tie up the horses.

  “Tom was chasing a couple of calves that bolted across the creek, and his horse shied and threw him. Nathan thinks he’s dislocated his shoulder,” Josh declared.

  “Where was Holly while this was happening?” Libby asked.

  “Don’t know. Nathan found them. He was on his way in when we saw them,” Josh said. “She was sitting in the back of the truck beside Tom, holding his hand.”

  Libby spun around at the sound of the truck creeping through the rain toward them. She rushed over and pulled open the door before it came to a stop, ignoring the rain running down her face. The back seat was down, and Tom was lying propped among empty grain bags, his face gray with pain. Holly was sitting with him, holding his hand tight, and whispering softly to him.

  Libby put her hands to her mouth, the words not coming. She was so relieved they were both safe. But what stunned her was the way her baby was looking out for Tom.

  A door slammed, and a familiar figure stood behind her. A strong arm slid possessively over her shoulder, pulling her close to his chest and making her breathing jump up a notch as her drenched body leaned into his.

  “Don’t you ever listen, sweetheart?”

  She could only shake her head as her eyes filled with tears. Her baby was safe. That’s all that mattered right now.