by Mandy Magro
‘You might be surprised by what I’m into these days, Kirsty. I’m not the reckless lad you grew up with any more. Living in the city opened my mind to a few things. I even meditate sometimes, when I’m really stressed out. Tammy got me into it when she dragged me off to a class one night with a master from India.’ He put a finger to his lips. ‘But shh, don’t let that cat out of the bag – gotta keep up the tough-guy reputation round these parts. Cowboys aren’t meant to be softies.’
Kirsty couldn’t hide her surprise. ‘Well, there you go. Aden Maloney, the tattooed rebel without a cause, is now in touch with his New Age side. The city has turned you into a snag, my friend!’
Aden chuckled. ‘What the hell is a snag? It makes me sound like a frigging sausage.’
‘It means a sensitive new age guy,’ Kirsty said, laughing.
‘I wouldn’t go that far. I still like my boxing, bull riding, camping and shooting. I reckon that warrants me a tough-guy image.’
Kirsty ran her hands through her hair before turning back to Aden, who was casually leaning against the railing, his body strong in all the right places. She ignored the yearning to touch him, silently chastising herself for the thought. ‘Yeah, I noticed the boxing bag out in the shed. I’ve been meaning to ask if you were going to go back into competition. There’s a fight night at the town hall in a couple of weeks. Maybe you should enter?’
Aden waved the suggestion away. ‘Oh, nah, I’m not fit enough to go back into serious competition. It’s just a way to keep myself in some sort of shape, that’s all. And when the meditation doesn’t work a good old bout on the bag gets rid of any pent-up tension.’
Not fit enough? Kirsty thought. Have you looked in the mirror lately?
Aden sat down beside her and his leg brushed against her own. ‘Beautiful sky, isn’t it? I love this time of the day, just before the sun comes up, when the stars are still flickering. It’s otherworldly.’ He waved his arm towards the picturesque view sprawled out before them, then rested back further into the couch. ‘Ah, I’ve missed this. It was hard living in the city and waking up to the traffic noise and your neighbours basically living on top of you. I’m not cut out for it long-term.’
Kirsty nodded. ‘Neither am I. I mean, London was nice for a while but, boy, did it make me appreciate the wide open spaces here. Flame Tree Hill is heaven.’
‘Good on you for spreading your wings and travelling a bit, though, Kirsty. I reckon it makes us all grow up when we see how other people live. I’m just sorry that the main reason you left was because you couldn’t get over the accident. At least you stuck around Hidden Valley for a few years and tried to rebuild your life, unlike me.’
Kirsty’s breath caught in her throat. ‘Oh, no, um . . . it wasn’t because of the, um, accident. It was just, well, I really wanted to travel. That’s all.’
Aden caught her gaze, his eyes full of understanding. ‘Don’t feel embarrassed about needing to get away. Shit, I did. Living in the city helped in a way, but not as much as I thought it would. I’ll always have heaviness in my heart when I think about Bec. That’s life. I’ve just learnt to accept she’s not coming back. Mum told me you were suffering from anxiety attacks because you felt so guilty about being the only survivor. You should never feel guilty for that, Kirsty.’
Kirsty felt like crawling under a rock. She wasn’t ready for this conversation; she wasn’t sure she’d ever be ready to sit and talk about the accident with Aden. This was the first time he’d ever spoken to her about it and she didn’t know how to respond. What was she meant to say to him? It should have been me who died, not your sister? She wiped a stray tear, angry at herself. ‘I’m so sorry about Bec. I wish I could have done something to save her. She was too young to die.’
Aden shook his head, his eyes burning into hers. ‘No, don’t you dare say sorry. It’s not your fault. And laying blame isn’t going to bring anyone back. It must have been very hard for you, losing three mates. I just wish I could have been there for you more after it happened but I was drowning in my own sorrow, but if it’s any consolation I’m here for you now, if you ever want to talk about it. Okay?’
A sob escaped from Kirsty and Aden took her into his arms. She tried to speak but it was impossible, so she let her trembling body rest against his. His compassion was heartfelt, and it should have made her feel better, but it didn’t. She wrapped her arms tighter around him, enjoying the moment of closeness, allowing herself the pleasure of his embrace.
Aden held her close, his warm breath on her neck. ‘I’m so thankful you didn’t die, Kirsty. I don’t know what I would have done losing two women I love dearly. One was bad enough.’
Kirsty felt her stomach do a backflip. What did Aden mean by love? She eased herself out of his embrace, suddenly guilty for taking refuge in it, just as Ron’s voice came bellowing from the front of the cottage.
‘Robbie? Kirsty? You two awake? We got big bloody problems out in the back paddock!’
Ron was not normally one to shout, especially first thing in the morning. Kirsty could hear his spurs clanging on the timber verandah and worry rose in her throat as she jumped from the couch, ripped open the screen door and pelted down the hall towards the front door. Aden’s footsteps hurried behind her own. Robbie emerged from his room, dazed and confused, pulling a T-shirt over his head as Kirsty jostled past him, the three of them arriving at the front door to see Ron looking utterly stressed out.
‘What’s up, Dad? Is everyone okay?’ Robbie asked as he pulled on his jeans.
Ron huffed loudly as he threw his hands up in the air. ‘Henry Cooper from next door has just rung. Sounds like our back fence has been knocked down by a couple of his unruly bulls overnight and now there are cattle from here to bloody kingdom come. We can’t afford to lose any and I don’t want his horny scrubber bulls having their way with my prized heifers. It’s the last bloody thing we need just before we start the breeding program for the year.’
‘Shit! Let’s go round them up then,’ Robbie said, wiping sleep from the corner of his eye.
‘Count me in,’ Aden said.
‘Great, thanks, Aden. We’re going to need all the help we can get. Henry and his boys are going to meet us out there once they’ve saddled up.’ Ron rolled his eyes, huffing. ‘Henry’s just got to find where they’ve gotten to on the property first. Knowing his two boys they’ll be up to no good somewhere. It could be bloody ages before they get there to help us.’
‘I’ll just go chuck some clothes on . . . Can’t muster in my PJs,’ Kirsty said as she ran off down the hall, no time to think further on Aden’s words.
The wind almost whipped the saliva from Kirsty’s mouth as she galloped across Flame Tree Hill on Cash. A sharp pain pierced her right nipple and she winced. It felt like she’d been stung by a bee. She hastily shoved her free hand down her top to check that there wasn’t an unwelcome insect in her bra, grimacing once again at the tenderness of her breast, but there was nothing there. Was she due for her period? She would have to check her calendar. Oh, the joys of being a woman, she thought as she pulled her hand free and took stock of the situation in front of her.
A huge cloud of dust hovered above all the action, thrown up by the bellowing cattle’s hoofs, the specks of dirt glimmering in the sunlight. Kirsty could feel it entering her lungs each time she inhaled – all she could taste in her mouth was dirt. But this was country life. What a way to start the day: first in Aden’s arms and now out in the saddle. If only it were like this every day. Giving Cash a quick flick of the reins, encouraging him to go faster, she felt the horse’s muscles ripple under her as he opened his stride, his sweat soaking through her jeans. The flustered bellows of their cattle carried across the paddock as she and the men took positions around the gathering mob and began to successfully push theirs inwards and the neighbours’ unwanted bulls outwards, shouting and whistling frantically. Kirsty kept her main focus on the strong-willed bull just in front of her, kicking up clouds of paprika-coloured d
ust as he thundered along the hard ground, snot and saliva dripping from his nostrils, showing his fury at being pushed away from the huddle of cows as he snorted. This bull was certainly not one of theirs; his poor appearance, rebellious behaviour, sharp horns and lack of desirable bone structure and musculature made it obvious. She motioned for Cash to turn with a slight tug on the reins, edging around the bull at a canter so she could push him out of the mob. The last thing the Mitchells wanted was to end up with calves bred from an old scrub bull. That would most certainly put a huge dent in their profits.
Cash pushed on as Kirsty determinedly directed the bull towards the neighbouring property. She swore under her breath as the bull abruptly changed direction, racing for the thick scrub at the edge of the property in a last-minute dash for freedom. The rest of the cattle tried to follow suit and began to break ranks from the contained mob, running towards the parts of the paddock where they could hide among tall clusters of trees. Aden appeared to Kirsty’s left and cracked his roo-hide whip, the loud reverberation demanding the attention of the wayward cattle and the unwelcome bull. Robbie and Ron galloped across the paddock to try to curb the cattle’s escape while Aden stayed beside her, helping her drive the bull towards the broken fencing and back onto Henry Cooper’s property. Together, they worked on either side of the snorting beast, cutting off its escape routes. They were intensely focused on any sudden movements, acutely aware the bull’s horns were deadly to both them and their horses. Then, with one final crack of his whip, Aden forced the bull across the flattened fence line just in time to see Henry and his two young sons heading towards them on their horses. And thank goodness for that, Kirsty thought, because they still had four or five dogged bulls to clear out as well as getting their own cattle into a secure paddock until they could fix the fence in this one.
Aden directed his horse in beside her, smiling. ‘You haven’t forgotten how to muster, I see. You’re still a bloody pro in the saddle, K.’
Kirsty grinned through the dust covering her face, taken aback by the way he’d called her K. That’s what he used to call her when they were teenagers. He was obviously becoming very comfortable around her again and that pleased her. ‘I adore mustering – so how could I possibly ever forget something I love so much, Aden?’
Aden tugged the brim of his hat down further, casting a long shadow across his features and limiting Kirsty’s view of his face, but she could still see his lips and they were smirking. ‘That’s so very true, K. I know exactly what you mean about never forgetting something you love.’ A loud crack of a whip broke their focus on each other and Aden turned his horse and flicked the reins. ‘Anyway, better get back to it.’
Kirsty remained stationary for a few brief moments as she watched him gallop away, his simple words having an odd effect on her. But why? Shrugging it off, she gave Cash the okay to join in the organised chaos in front of her, eager to get the job done while enjoying every thrilling second of it.
Chapter 6
HANK barked insistently as the crunch of tyres on gravel pulled Kirsty’s attention away from the telly. She shoved the last of the caramel Tim Tam she had been sucking her coffee through and wandered out to the verandah, her muscles still a little tender after being in the saddle all day yesterday. Squinting in the afternoon sun, she could just make out her mother’s car, another woman’s silhouette beside her mum’s. Kirsty shaded her eyes and took a closer look as they got out of the car, a smile erupting as she finally made out who it was, the woman’s build a lot frailer than she remembered but her beautiful dark brown skin and almond shaped eyes unmistakable.
‘Oh my goodness! Aunty Kulsoom!’ Kirsty squealed with delight as she bolted down the front steps and towards her aunty with her arms outstretched. She’d known Kulsoom all her life and they shared a very special connection.
Kulsoom smiled warmly at Kirsty and the two women embraced as Lynette stood by her sister-in-law, smiling.
‘I can’t believe it’s been four years since I saw you last,’ Kirsty said, blinking back happy tears.
‘I know, it’s been way too long. How are you, love? Glad to be home from the big smoke, I’ll bet. Your mum was getting worried about you never coming back but I told her she was being silly. The country is in your blood.’ Kulsoom tenderly brushed a strand of hair from Kirsty’s face.
Kirsty swept her arm wide, motioning towards the vast land. ‘How could I ever stay away from this?’ She gave her aunty another cuddle. ‘This is a huge surprise! When did you decide to come and visit? Obviously nobody told me you were arriving today. I’m a bloody mushroom around here – kept in the dark, as they say.’
‘I told your parents not to say anything. I wanted to surprise you and Robbie,’ Kulsoom said.
Lynette winked at Kirsty. ‘Did a good job of keeping it a secret, didn’t we?’
‘You sure did, Mum.’ Kirsty glanced in the back seat. ‘I’m gathering Uncle Harry’s not visiting with you this time, unless you have him packed away in your suitcase.’
Kulsoom chuckled. ‘No, your Uncle Harry had to stay for work. Which is a shame. But after having time off to come to Pakistan with me he didn’t have any annual leave left.’
Lynette placed her hand on Kulsoom’s arm. ‘Yes, we’re going to miss having my larrikin of a brother here with you. But not to worry, it can’t be helped. It’s just good to have you here, Kulsoom.’ Lynette shifted her gaze to Kirsty. ‘Anyway, love, let’s get inside so your aunty can have a pannikin of tea. She’s had a long day of travelling from Tasmania and I’m sure she’s well and truly buggered.’
‘Too right I am. A three-hour drive, two flights – one delayed, I might add – and then the two-hour trip to here from the airport . . . Well, let’s just say I’m not as young and vigorous as I used to be.’ Kulsoom tipped her head from side to side to ease out the tight muscles in her neck, the wig she wore sliding slightly off-centre. Kirsty reached out and straightened it for her, the lump in her throat growing bigger by the second. She wasn’t going to break down in front of Kulsoom – not here, not now.
‘I’ll grab your luggage and meet you inside in a minute. I can’t wait to hear all about your trip back home to Pakistan to see all your brothers and sisters,’ Kirsty said as she headed towards the back of her mum’s Prado. ‘And taste all the wicked curries I’m sure you learnt to cook while you were there!’
‘Well, I’m here for five weeks – maybe more if you’re all happy to have me – so you might get sick of my Pakistani cooking by then,’ Kulsoom replied over her shoulder as she followed Lynette up the path to the front door of the homestead.
‘That is never gonna happen!’ Kirsty called back.
After dinner the three women sat snugly beside each other on the verandah, each cradling a warm pannikin of Milo, full of the homemade apple pie they’d had after huge helpings of Lynette’s famous ox tail stew and creamy mashed potato. Robbie, Ron and Aden had retired early, leaving the women to themselves.
Kirsty thought back to the way she had caught Aden looking at her across the dinner table. And then there was the way his hand had gently brushed her own when he had taken the tea towel off her to help with the drying up. They had been living under the same roof for a little over two months now and the atmosphere between them seemed to be shifting. In what way she wasn’t certain, but it worried and excited her at the same time. She let out a sigh and rested her head back against the cushion of the swing chair. There were more important issues to be thinking of. Like when was the right time was to ask her aunty about her breast cancer. Even though Kulsoom was in remission, Kirsty didn’t know how to broach the subject; she still felt guilty about not being in the country to support Kulsoom through that traumatic time. She couldn’t even begin to imagine what it would be like to be told you had cancer; the pain and fear would be utterly indescribable.
A mild breeze stirred the leaves on the golden wattle trees, sending a sprinkling of flowers down onto the thick grass beneath. Gently swinging their legs in
unison, the women relaxed in a companionable silence, the hinges on the swing chair creaking with every sway. Kirsty watched a possum scurry across the front lawn and speedily climb a tall gum tree, its curly tail wrapping around a tree branch as it swung up and out of sight. Green tree frogs were croaking loudly in the downpipes, rejoicing at the heavy downpour that had occurred during dinner. Kirsty smiled, remembering the fright she’d had as a booming crack of thunder made her jump. She’d spilt her glass of merlot all over her mum’s good white linen tablecloth. Then the power had been cut and the skies opened as immense droplets pelted the tin roof of the homestead with deafening intensity. In typical North Queensland fashion it had all been over in ten minutes flat as the power returned, leaving the world with an addictive aroma of crispness that her father referred to as heaven’s scent.
Kulsoom exhaled noisily beside Kirsty and slowly removed her wig, scratching fiercely at her patchy scalp before dropping the wig in her lap. ‘This darn thing makes my head sweat. I’m looking forward to the day I have my own hair back. It seems to grow so slowly.’
‘I’ve been meaning to ask about your, um, breast cancer,’ said Kirsty tentatively. ‘I’m sorry I haven’t until now. It’s just, well, I didn’t know what to say and I don’t want to upset you.’ The tightness that had been in her throat earlier returned with full force as she glanced at her aunt’s bald scalp then stared off into the distance, waiting for a reply as tears began to sting her eyes.
Kulsoom patted Kirsty’s leg, her voice filled with compassion as she began to speak. ‘I understand, love. It’s not easy to talk to someone about something that has the possibility of causing their death. It’s a horrible disease, but it has also taught me to stop and smell the roses, and to tell those who mean the world to you that you love them as often as possible. That’s what drove me to finally go home and visit my family in Pakistan. The cancer gave me the kick up the backside that I needed to get my act together and go.’