Moonlight Plains

by Barbara Hannay

  When she’d run into him in the hallway outside Kitty’s bedroom it had been even worse. Their brief conversation had been strained and awkward and deep-down wrong. In despair, Sally had nearly hurled the basket of cutlery to the four winds and leapt into Luke’s arms in the hope that a display of impromptu passion might have resurrected the guy she knew and loved.

  Loved?

  This startling thought struck just as the shower water stopped, leaving Sally with a huge unanswered question and an equally huge spread of unrinsed soapsuds that she had to wipe off with her towel. Served her right for not concentrating on the job in hand.

  Still, the question remained. Was love an appropriate word to describe her feelings for Luke Fairburn?

  She’d seen him in a new light today. He’d morphed from a quiet, easygoing and slightly shy cattleman-cum-builder into the confident host of Moonlight Plains, and she’d been impressed by how smoothly he’d balanced the supervision of the final party preparations with greeting people and making them feel welcome. And he’d been incredibly sweet to his grandmother.

  Sally had been genuinely touched when she’d watched the solicitous way Luke took Kitty under his wing, making sure she was comfortable with a cuppa and then helping her into the homestead for a nap before the party.

  And when Bella had come running up with the bad news that the band had rolled their car on the last bend before the creek crossing, Luke had been remarkably calm, checking first that there were no serious injuries requiring an ambulance, and then racing off in a truck to rescue them.

  There had only been one event that seemed to throw Luke today, and that was the arrival of his uncle Jim from Brisbane. From the moment Jim stepped out of his car, there’d been a strange vibe between him and the American woman, Laura. Luke had noticed and he’d been tense about them too, although Sally had no idea why.

  Unfortunately, there was no way she could ask him about it. She was a complete outsider and she wasn’t enjoying that status. And yet, ironically, while she and Luke had only exchanged a handful of words all day, let alone kissed or touched, she’d developed a new respect for her supposedly casual boyfriend, a feeling that could not be classified as mere lust or fondness.

  ‘Everything okay in there?’ Megan called from outside.

  ‘Oh, yes, sorry. Coming!’

  ‘I was beginning to think you must have drowned.’

  Apologetic and slightly flustered, Sally hauled on a beach shirt, thrust her damp feet into thongs and grabbed her belongings.

  With her hair still dripping, she stepped outside to find Megan ready to fill the shower bucket with the hose hooked up to a tank on the back of a ute.

  ‘Do you need a hand with that?’ Sally asked.

  ‘No, I think I’ve got the hang of it. Luke’s uncle showed me how it works.’

  That was another thing, Sally thought as she gave Megan a wave and hurried back to their tent. Her friend’s comments about Luke’s family were spot-on. They’d both thoroughly enjoyed working with Zoe in the kitchen, and not simply because Zoe was a professional cook and had passed on several great tips. Apart from picking up some gorgeous recipes, like Zoe’s watermelon, feta and black olive salad, and her superb flourless chocolate lime cake, it had only taken a matter of moments for both Sally and Megan to feel completely comfortable, as if they were long-time friends of Zoe McKinnon’s.

  And when they’d met Luke’s sister, Bella, she’d been as warm and friendly and as instantly likeable as Zoe, as were their husbands, Gabe and Mac respectively. In no time, Sally had felt totally at ease with the whole Fairburn–Mathieson crowd.

  Admittedly, Sally knew she was particularly susceptible to the charms of the big-happy-family scenario. As an only child whose relatives, apart from her parents, all lived far away in southern states, she’d frequently envied other people’s large family gatherings. For Sally, there was something magical about their noisy celebrations in suburban backyards, or at the beach, or around barbecues in national parks.

  Today, as Luke’s sisters and uncles and their assorted extras arrived, piling out of cars and greeting each other with laughter and hugs and family in-jokes, she’d almost felt as if she’d found a tribe she wanted to belong to.

  And not one of them had grilled her about Luke.

  Luke . . .

  Back in her tent, towel-drying her hair and then searching through her backpack for clean knickers and a matching strapless bra, she couldn’t keep her mind away from him.

  She knew he would soon be getting dressed in another tent nearby and she could so easily picture his naked body . . . his broad shoulders and tapered waist, his toned butt and strong thighs . . . the play of muscles in his back as he raised his arms to haul a clean shirt over his head . . .

  Luke, showered, and dressed in crisp, clean clothes, was going to look gorgeous. He would probably smell good too, although she wouldn’t get close enough to know. Which left her feeling miserable again as she stepped into the brand-new dress she’d bought for the party.

  ‘Oh, wow!’ Megan appeared at the tent door and her jaw dropped when she saw Sally. ‘That dress is sensational. You’re going to drive Luke mental.’

  The halter-neck dress of copper-toned silk had seemed like a good choice when Sally was trying it on in her favourite Townsville dress shop. The colour suited her perfectly and the style brought out her best features. She’d hoped to tantalise Luke by looking her most alluring, in spite of their charade, but after Megan’s reaction, the plan felt a tad childish, even thoughtless.

  ‘It’s not too try-hard, is it?’ she asked.

  ‘No, it’s perfect.’ Megan sent her a wry smile. ‘That’s the problem.’

  Sally winced. She hadn’t brought an alternative outfit, so, to make amends, she applied only the barest makeup and didn’t bother with jewellery. Then she grabbed her camera and hung it, purposefully, around her neck. It was time to get over her downbeat mood and to remember she was here as a journalist and not as anyone’s girlfriend.

  It was almost dark by the time Luke and Gabe had finished helping the harassed band guys to roll their vehicle upright before towing it back to the homestead. Luke was relieved to see for himself that there were no serious injuries, although one of the band members, the lead singer, had hurt his arm. Gabe volunteered to run him into the Towers to have it checked out, but the guy was stubborn, insisting he’d be fine for the evening.

  Luke wasn’t happy about this, but given the timing, he wasn’t going to argue too hard.

  As soon as he got back, though, he found one of his cousins from Richmond, a med student home on holidays, who’d come to the party with his physiotherapist girlfriend. Between the two of them, they were able to make the singer comfortable with his arm in a sling. Painkillers would do the rest, and Luke could breathe a little more easily.

  With that problem solved, at least temporarily, he headed for the homestead for one last check and found his mother hurrying from the main bathroom with Zoe’s youngster, Callum, bundled in a huge, fluffy towel.

  ‘He was playing in the dirt with his Tonka truck and ended up covered from head to toe in red dust,’ Virginia told Luke with grandmotherly pride.

  The kid, straight out of the bath, had a just-scrubbed glow about him. His dark hair was still damp and his cheeks were pink, and he radiated the amazing cuteness that, as far as Luke could tell, was universal among toddlers.

  For an instant Luke couldn’t help thinking that he wouldn’t mind a kid of his own one day, and slap on the back of that thought flashed an image of Sally with a cute little bundle in her arms.

  Jeez, he was losing it.

  ‘How’s Gran?’ he asked, quickly scratching that errant thought and switching to the business at hand. ‘Everything okay with her?’

  ‘As far as I know, Luke. But I must admit it’s about forty minutes now since I popped in. I took her another cup of tea, but since then I’ve been looking after Callum. Zoe’s busy getting ready, and Mac’s keeping an eye
on the barbecue, so I offered to give Callum his bath and his tea and put him to bed. We’ve set up his portacot in my room.’

  ‘Okay, that’s fine. I can make a quick check on Gran. I’ll only give you a hoy if she needs you.’

  ‘Thanks, darling. Tell her I’ll be along to help her get dressed just as soon as I’m free.’

  ‘Sure.’ Luke was already hurrying on to his grandmother’s room.

  The door was closed, so he knocked.

  There was no response from inside and he wondered if his grandmother had dropped off to sleep again. He supposed he should check on her, and he was reaching for the doorknob when the door opened.

  The last person he’d expected to see was his Uncle Jim.

  ‘Hi,’ he said. ‘I was – ah – just checking on Gran to see if –’ Luke stopped in mid-sentence and totally lost his train of thought.

  Laura Langley Fox was sitting on the edge of his grandmother’s bed and holding her hand.

  What the fuck was she doing here? And why was his uncle here too? What was going on? The three of them seemed to be having a private conversation behind closed doors.

  Damn it, why?

  Fine hairs rose on the back of Luke’s neck. He knew this was none of his business, yet he was sure it had to be linked to Laura’s dramatic reaction to Jim’s arrival.

  It was like being thrown from a horse and smashing into the ground, winded. ‘I – I didn’t realise –’

  ‘No problem,’ Jim said with an easy smile. ‘Laura and I were about to leave Mum in peace. Your grandmother’s keen to get ready for the party.’

  Laura was no longer holding his grandmother’s hand and she’d risen from the bed. Luke thought she looked rather washed out, but perhaps she was one of those women whose appearance changed dramatically when their make-up wore off.

  He switched his attention to his grandmother, but it was hard to tell if she was upset. Just the same, he had the uneasy suspicion that this trio’s discussion had involved World War II and Laura’s father, the American pilot – subjects his grandmother had always avoided.

  Damn. He’d behaved rashly when he sent that invitation without Kitty’s permission and now guilt roiled uncomfortably inside him. What problems had he stirred up by inviting the American woman out here?

  ‘We were about to leave anyhow,’ Jim said smoothly, and he held the door open for Laura.

  In the doorway, she paused and sent his grandmother a shy smile. ‘Thanks, Kitty.’

  Thanks for what? Luke wanted to demand.

  ‘We’ll see you soon, Luke,’ said Jim. ‘I’m looking forward to this evening. It’s shaping up to be a great party.’

  They left, shutting the door behind them. Luke crossed the room towards his grandmother’s bed.

  ‘Is everything okay, Gran?’

  ‘Yes, dear.’ She looked up at him with wide-eyed innocence. ‘Perfectly okay. Why? What’s the matter?’

  ‘I know there’s something going on. Laura was really upset earlier, when Jim arrived. I – I wasn’t sure what to make of it.’

  ‘Oh, you mustn’t worry, Luke. It was only a little thing and it’s all sorted now.’

  Perhaps it was the wary, rather enigmatic smile she gave him, but for some reason Luke couldn’t explain, he could not accept this glib dismissal.

  He took a step closer to the bed. ‘Are you quite sure there isn’t something I should know?’

  35

  Townsville, 1942

  ‘I’m only thinking of you, Kitty. It’s for your own good.’ Her grandmother sat stiffly on the edge of the chair in Elsie’s lounge room, her distress evident in the pained expression on her face, in her tightly clenched hands, in the quiver of her lower lip. ‘I’m sure it’s better for the baby, too.’

  Kitty stared at her in dismay. ‘You can’t possibly believe that. How can it be better for a baby to be separated from its mother?’

  Kitty couldn’t bear this. She’d fully expected her grandfather’s outrage when she eventually found the courage to tell him about her pregnancy, but she’d hoped her grandmother would be on her side. Surely another woman, another mother would understand that Kitty already loved her baby completely. At just five months she could feel its movements. Each night she lay in bed, her hands cradling the swell of her stomach, picturing the tiny person inside, loving each tiny flutter and bump.

  ‘Kitty, be reasonable. Any baby would be better off with two parents and the chance to grow up in a proper family. Think, girl. How could you possibly bring up a child on your own?’

  ‘I’d find a way.’ Although in truth, she had no idea.

  ‘How can you be so stubborn?’ Her grandmother was sitting so far forward now she was almost off the chair. ‘It might be different if there was any prospect of the baby’s father returning to marry you.’ She paused, one eyebrow arched expectantly, waiting for Kitty to respond.

  ‘I told you he was wounded and sent home to the States.’

  ‘And he still doesn’t know he made you pregnant?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘And you don’t plan to write to him.’

  Wearily, Kitty shook her head. She was sure that Ed would have written to her if he was well enough. Clearly he hadn’t got his sight back. Nothing had changed. Desperate as her situation was, she knew she must stick to her original decision.

  Her grandmother sighed heavily. ‘You’d have to work to support yourself, and heaven knows what kind of job you’d get. There aren’t many employers who’d take on a woman in your condition. And who would care for the baby while you were working? Kitty, it’s impossible. You simply can’t have a baby without a husband. And you know it’s not right.’

  Her grandmother sounded uncomfortable as she said this, and Kitty sensed her grandfather’s influence. Now that even his best efforts hadn’t stopped her from playing the devil’s daughter, her grandfather felt that he’d been vindicated in his decision to send her away from Townsville and the Americans.

  Reaching for the cup of tea that Kitty had made, still untouched on the small table beside her, her grandmother said, ‘There’s clearly only one solution. You should go away. I’ve made enquiries and there’s a good home for unmarried mothers in Rockhampton, or you could even go to Brisbane. Your grandfather and I will pay the costs. They’ll look after you there, Kitty. You can have the baby safely, and then come home afterwards . . . No one here need know, and people won’t ask too many questions about your absence, not with this war and so many folk coming and going.’

  Kitty knew this was the main source of her grandparents’ distress. They wanted to make sure no one here knew her terrible secret, wanted her safely out of sight before her pregnancy became too obvious. They probably thought she would give in again, just as she had when her grandfather had sent her off to Moonlight Plains, but they had no idea how much she’d changed.

  Loving Ed had changed her. In ways she couldn’t explain, he’d given her courage.

  Now, she said quietly but firmly, ‘I’m sorry, but I don’t want to give my baby away.’

  ‘So you’d rather bring shame and scandal on yourself and your family?’

  Kitty held her breath. She could never believe that her love for Ed was shameful or scandalous. And now that he was gone to the far side of the world, his baby was especially precious to her. She might never see him again, but his baby would always be a living link to him, and she knew with absolute certainty that she could never give it up.

  ‘I’m sorry, Grandmother. I know this is going to hurt you and Grandfather, but I’m definitely keeping the baby. There’s no question.’

  ‘Kitty, you –’

  Kitty held up her hand. ‘I’m really grateful for everything you’ve done for me and I truly hate knowing that I’m causing you pain and embarrassment, but I can’t give my baby away. I’m sorry. I simply can’t.’

  Somehow she managed not to cry, or at least not until after her grandmother had left in a cloud of disapproval. Afterwards, the tears came as sh
e damped down a pile of pillowslips and tea towels, ready for ironing. She wept for Ed and her baby and she wept for herself. She had no idea how she was going to manage.

  It was three weeks later, on a Saturday afternoon, when Elsie tapped on Kitty’s bedroom door. ‘Are you awake?’ she called softly.

  Kitty had been lying down, trying to rest. ‘Yes,’ she said. ‘It’s too hot to sleep.’

  Elsie’s smiling face appeared as she pushed the door open. ‘Well, shake a leg. You’ve got a visitor.’ Elsie winked. ‘A young man.’

  Kitty gasped and shot up quickly, her heart hammering. ‘Not –’

  ‘No, not Ed, but it’s good news. It’s Andy Mathieson.’

  ‘Andy?’ Kitty’s disappointment was only fleeting. This was wonderful news. The last time she’d spoken to the Mathiesons, they’d almost given up hope. ‘Tell him I’m coming,’ she said, reaching for her hairbrush on the dressing table.

  She took only a moment to tidy her hair and slip on her shoes. Crossing her fingers that the loose blouse she was wearing over a gathered cotton skirt would hide the growing signs of her pregnancy, she hurried down the hallway to the lounge room. As she entered, a figure rose from the chair in the corner. A man in uniform, tall, suntanned and gaunt, with his slouch hat hanging from a strap over his shoulder. She knew it was Andy, but my, how he’d changed.

  ‘Andy, how wonderful to see you. Everyone’s been so worried about you.’ She hurried forward.

  ‘Kitty.’ His blue eyes were bright in his brown face and they shimmered with emotion.

  She kissed his cheek and he kissed hers. ‘We’d almost given up hope,’ she said. She found it hard not to stare; he’d changed so much, from a boy to a man, in just a few months. ‘How are you?’

  He smiled, making deep creases at the corners of his eyes. ‘Had some bark knocked off me and a stint in hospital, but I’m just about right now.’

  ‘Your parents must be so thrilled. Heavens, they’ll be over the moon.’

  ‘Yeah, they’re pretty happy.’ He swallowed, smiled shyly. ‘It’s so good to see you, Kit.’