‘Same as always,’ said Ted, looking at Adam coolly from the doorway.
Adam raised his eyebrows at Mel.
‘We’re heading off in the truck. You nearly right to go?’ asked Ted.
‘Doesn’t like aerobatics, old Flipper,’ Adam told Lucy.
‘Too right,’ Ted agreed. ‘I like having my feet on the ground.’
‘Aw, c’mon, Teddy,’ Adam coaxed, ‘what say you go out on a limb, just for today? Miss Lucy reckons she’s not coming up with me.’
Ted regarded Adam blankly. ‘I’ll get this show on the road then. We’ll be at Hill yards in half an hour or thereabouts.’
‘Crack a smile, mate! No law against it yet, eh?’ Adam winked in Lucy’s direction. But Ted had already departed and was on his way back to the yards. Adam stood up and stretched.
‘I’ll stay here with Mel,’ Lucy repeated with more conviction.
‘That’s what you think.’ Adam took her firmly by the elbow and lifted her out of her seat. As he steered her towards the door, Lucy attempted to resist, looking back at Mel.
‘Look, Lucy,’ Mel said, ‘just piss off and have a day out for a change.’ She turned back to the sink.
A few minutes later, Lucy was standing a stone’s throw away from a small, flimsy-looking dark-blue and silver helicopter sitting near the fuel bowsers on the far side of the yards. Adam climbed in and started the rotor; while it was warming up he beckoned to her to come over. She approached, ducking slightly as she went under the spinning blades. He held out his hand and drew her into the cabin.
‘Where are the doors?’ she yelled to him over the din.
‘Must have left them at home!’ Adam grinned at her and she couldn’t help smiling back. He certainly was good to look at.
Once she was seated with her harness fastened, he handed her a headset and helmet. She reached out to grasp them but he hung on for a moment and gazed intently into her face. ‘Why do you look so familiar to me?’ he shouted. ‘You know, I think I’ve seen you before!’
Lucy looked at him questioningly as she pulled the helmet over her hair. Adam did likewise. Then, to her surprise, she heard his voice speaking clearly through the earpieces. ‘I just didn’t get a good look at your face that first time,’ he said. ‘I was a bit distracted!’ He broke into a hearty laugh, but Lucy had frozen in her seat. Her face felt suddenly hot inside the helmet as realisation dawned. The chopper . . . Wilhelm mill . . . Adam Hood. She stared straight ahead, burning with humiliation. Fortunately, Adam had turned his attention to the controls and they were lifting off.
They flew in a meandering line to the Hill yards, their shadow like a giant black dragonfly flitting across the contours of the land beneath. Lucy felt as though she were suspended in a giant bubble, the sensation of floating so much more intense than in a plane. The truck, travelling along the track below, saddled horses in the crate, reminded Lucy of a toy from a farm set as they passed over. They soon left behind the open country closer to the house, and the terrain became wrinkled with gullies and ridges and more heavily timbered. Beyond the hilly section, Lucy could see that the landscape was flatter and clearer again to the south. Adam took them over the lagoons, then over several windmills, hovering for a moment above each so that he could check the waters for Dennis. He paused for longer than necessary over Wilhelm mill and looked significantly at Lucy. She shook her head and tried to laugh.
Finally they headed for a large set of stockyards built on a flat area at the eastern corner of Hill paddock. The shade trees at the yards stood out darkly against the surrounding sparser, lighter-coloured scrub. The truck could be seen approaching, still a kilometre or two away.
‘The others will meet us on horses at that lagoon,’ Adam explained, pointing to a distant opening in the trees where a green marshy flat could be seen. ‘That’s where we need to hunt the cattle to. Then they’ll drive them back to these yards for branding and dipping.’ Lucy nodded excitedly.
He swung the helicopter around and began to skirt the paddock in a large loop. ‘We’ll come in from the back,’ he said. ‘Don’t want to spook them before we’ve even started.’ He slowed to a hover at the furthest corner of the paddock and then began a slow methodical zigzag between the boundaries. It wasn’t long before they ran across a small mob. The cows began to trot away, their movements slightly panicky.
‘Seasick yet?’ Adam turned to Lucy.
To her surprise, she found that she wasn’t. ‘Not at all! I’m loving it!’
‘Good. ’Cause we’re about to get serious.’ They abruptly changed direction. ‘Stirry cattle in this terrain are a bugger to muster,’ he continued. ‘They evaporate the second you take your eyes off them. But these old girls aren’t too bad.’
Lucy could see another small group of cows ahead, shifting nervously in a patch of wattle suckers. ‘They know the drill,’ Adam went on. ‘We just have to start them off in the right direction and then look for the next lot.’
They collected more and more cows. Each time they found a new mob and started it moving, Adam seemed to know exactly when to swing up and away so as to avoid a stampede, yet maintained the pressure enough to keep them travelling. It was exhilarating and, at times, on the verge of terrifying. Lucy peered through the bubble in front of her and wished there was a door between her and the open space below.
The reddish terrain of the Hill paddock was rocky and undulating, peppered with tall stands of ironbark and an undergrowth of hickory wattle and other woody shrubs. Thick patches of currant bush formed hideouts for several extended families of wild pigs, which were flushed out by the noise of the helicopter. Deep casuarina-filled gullies provided hollows where groups of cattle could remain concealed. But Adam was skilled at his job. He seemed to sense where the cattle were hidden, and could always induce them to leave their cover. Sometimes this involved much manoeuvring of the light machine, rotating its tail and hovering so low that the tips of the gums below whipped to and fro. Sudden dives and swoops left Lucy tightly gripping the sides of the seat, her stomach in her throat. Adam, on the other hand, seemed perfectly calm and focused; glancing across, Lucy saw the profile of his face through the visor of his helmet, alight with the thrill of the hunt. She remained silent and did her best to appear nonchalant.
Once groups of cattle were travelling in various locations around the large paddock, they seemed to suck the others along with them, their movement drawing more cows out of hiding from what seemed like every dark clump of vegetation. From the air it was spectacular, like watching a myriad of single droplets trickling out from hidden crevices to join the torrents flowing along the red strips that were the tracks.
Eventually they began to congregate at the lagoon, where the riders and dogs were already positioned in the surrounding trees. Adam and Lucy set off for a last reconnaissance of the paddock, giving the cattle time to settle before their walk to the yard.
When at last the riders began to push the mob, the helicopter hovered at a distance, waiting in reserve should the riders run into trouble. Lucy smiled to see Cooper’s tiny form confidently leading the large mob on Shunter, and Billie bringing up the tail on her fat buckskin pony Podge. They were in their element. She supposed the twins were waiting back at Hill yards. Bri and Tash were also positioned towards the back of the herd. Lucy searched for Ted. She spotted him on one wing, opposite Dennis who was on the other. The slim ringer looked so small and insignificant from this distance, but she could clearly picture his enigmatic frown as he sat into Harpy’s springy stride.
As the cattle approached the yards, and it was clear that the riders had them under control, Adam swung the chopper up and away from the action, and they set off in a direct line towards the homestead. They took off their helmets now that the stunt flying was over, and Lucy couldn’t help feeling disappointed. She’d been hoping they would land at the Hill yards and she would have the opportunity to see some yard work. Branding and dipping, words so commonplace and routine for everyone else at Charlott
e’s Creek, were still intriguing to her.
Adam seemed to read her expression. ‘I thought you were dying to slave over a hot stove with Mel? Sorry, Lucy, but I’ve got another job to get to, over at Black Rock. I’ll drop you back at the house and fuel up.’
‘Oh, but it’s been incredible!’ Lucy exclaimed.
Adam beamed. ‘I’ll swing by to take you for a joy ride sometime soon. No work commitments next time, just you, me and this bird.’
Before Lucy could reply, they were on the ground, but it had been more of a statement than an invitation. Still the gentleman, Adam hurried around to her side of the chopper and helped her out. She again ducked involuntarily under the blades, which were revolving to a stop.
Adam kissed her hand at the fuel drums, fixing his green smiling eyes on her face, then he bowed low. As she thanked him, Lucy found that her legs were shaking, and wondered if it was purely from the adrenaline of the flight.
Back in the house, she was so elated from her morning in the air that even Mel’s caustic tongue failed to dampen her mood, and she wielded the mop with a smile on her face. She wondered if Adam had been serious about taking her on another flight, and found that she was hoping he would. At last, she thought, she’d met someone on Charlotte’s Creek she might have something in common with, a person whose presence didn’t automatically make her feel like she needed to ‘toughen up’, someone who didn’t seem to mind her being a soft ‘city girl’. She had no doubt that Adam’s chivalry and smooth way with words would be well-received by most girls, and his interest in her was undoubtedly just his usual friendliness, but nonetheless it was a refreshing change from Ted’s distant reserve and reluctance to communicate. Yes, she decided, she would be more than happy to see Adam again.
Chapter 22
At the end of June, Lucy went home to Sydney for ten days. She visited friends, rested up and ate several servings of her mother’s strengthening chicken minestrone. Gemma and Lloyd came over for dinner one night, but Lucy ended up speaking more to Gemma’s sleek, grey-haired husband than to her sister. Lloyd seemed fascinated by her descriptions of life at Charlotte’s Creek.
‘It’s beef cattle, you say?’ he was asking. ‘And you’ve actually witnessed the mustering and calf branding?’
Lucy smiled at his enthusiasm. ‘And the castrating.’
‘Sensational. And tell me more about those lagoons.’
So Lucy described for Lloyd the beauty of the Charlotte’s Creek landscape. During dinner, she watched her sister closely; although Gemma seemed deliriously happy, the table conversation was largely small-talk, and Lucy yearned for one of her old heart-to-heart talks with her sister.
When dinner was over, Lucy walked the visitors to the front gate. ‘I’m horribly lonely without you, Luce,’ Gemma whispered as they hugged goodbye. ‘I hope you miss me a little bit too?’
‘Oh Gem, of course I do!’ Lucy said, touched. But before she could say anything more, Lloyd took Gemma by the arm, kissed Lucy on the cheek, and whisked his wife away.
After the jolly couple drove off, Lucy felt a little bereft, and even worse about Gemma than she had before seeing her. They’d been in the same room for a number of hours but hadn’t had more than a few minutes of meaningful communication; now Lucy was heartily regretting that she hadn’t made more of an effort to speak to Gemma properly while she’d had the chance.
Overall, however, the time in Sydney did Lucy the world of good. She had long talks with her parents about the family at Charlotte’s Creek, and soaked up their advice and encouragement. ‘It’s certainly a challenging situation,’ Graham observed on one of these occasions. But you’re clearly thriving on it.’ The proud smile that followed these words was not his usual one, that of a father doting on his little girl; rather, it conveyed a new kind of respect for Lucy, as a strong and independent woman, and she noticed the difference immediately.
On her return to Charlotte’s Creek, the warm welcome she received from the children and Dennis, the shy nod and smile from Ted, and Mel’s evident relief at having her back did much to hearten her. She felt refreshed and ready to face the second semester, and resolved to be more actively involved in the goings-on outside the schoolroom as well.
The opportunity to do this came earlier than she expected. On five afternoons of her first fortnight back, Ted invited Lucy to join him on horseback when he yarded the newest mob of weaners. Her role was more or less to tag along behind the mob while Ted and his wiry little kelpies did all the real work. But Lucy learned a great deal about cattle psychology through pure observation, and felt herself becoming more confident in the saddle.
By the beginning of the third week, the group of weaners had become so accustomed to their daily yarding that they were beginning to file in like lambs, and Ted encouraged Lucy to try it on her own one afternoon. Again, Shep did all of the legwork, but Lucy was immensely proud of her achievement.
Then Dennis, aware of Lucy’s yearning to try her hand at mustering, suggested she join them for the one-off muster of Coffee Pot Lagoon. The cattle in this boggy paddock were always prone to worms in winter, when feed was scarce and they were in poorer condition. As a result they generally needed drenching in July, and this year was no exception. The muster was scheduled for the coming Saturday, as Noel and Gwen were preparing to leave for a tour of Europe, and Dennis wanted to do the job while Noel was still around to help. That way they wouldn’t need to hire extra ringers.
Dennis told Lucy that Coffee Pot Lagoon was an open, relatively flat paddock, the cattle were fairly well handled and it was close to the home buildings and yards. ‘Nice easy one to start with,’ he assured her. ‘You can fill in for Mel. Her gut’s too big now to get on a horse.’
So on Saturday morning, Lucy found herself among the other riders, astride Pagan and ready to go, just inside the gate of Coffee Pot Lagoon. Yet no one had explained a single thing to her about the procedure for the day.
Dennis took one look at her perplexed expression and leaned back in his saddle with a grin. ‘Goldy, you and Lucy can do Dad’s job today and go around the boundary for stragglers. That all right with you, Dad?’ he asked. ‘That way these two young things can have a bit of time alone together.’
‘Be my guest, Ted,’ Noel said, raising his eyebrows knowingly. ‘See you at the lagoon.’
Ted glowered at Dennis, Noel and then Lucy, and started off without waiting to see whether Lucy was following. But Lucy was determined not to be discouraged. It was her first muster on horseback and she wasn’t going to let anything or anyone dampen the experience.
‘Quick, get off after Goldy, Luce!’ Dennis urged. ‘He’s getting away on you!’
Lucy bumped Pagan into a fast walk while Dennis made some more provoking remarks behind her, and Billie began to giggle. Ignoring them, Lucy concentrated instead on remembering how to sit back, hold the reins and angle her feet in the stirrups. She squinted anxiously ahead to where Ted was disappearing from view, following the fence line over the ridge, his dogs at Harpy’s heels.
Once they were far enough away from the other riders to be safe from scrutiny, Lucy urged the mare into a trot in an attempt to catch Ted. Bouncing awkwardly along on Pagan’s wide brown back, she tried to rise in time with the mare’s lumbering gait, as she’d been learning to do in the yards, but it was a different story on this uneven terrain, and she soon became breathless, the air knocked from her lungs with each mistimed bounce. She came over the rise and was relieved to see that Ted had stopped to wait for her.
‘So can you tell me exactly what we’re doing?’ she panted, pulling up alongside him and feeling a little annoyed. ‘So far no one has told me anything.’
Ted regarded her silently, his expression doubtful.
‘Can you at least give me some idea of how this muster happens?’ Lucy persisted.
Ted shrugged. ‘It’s a bit different every time. Depends how the cattle are feeling on the day, whether the bities have them stirred up or not, what the weather is
doing, and how the mob has been working the paddock.’
Lucy felt her mouth drop open slightly. ‘That doesn’t make things any clearer, Ted.’
‘Well, it can be real straightforward . . . or otherwise.’ He made as if to move off again.
‘But what do we have to do?’ Lucy asked with more urgency. ‘I imagine we’re going to be rounding up cattle, but what then?’
‘Rounding up? Struth.’ Ted unexpectedly bestowed on her one of his rare impish smiles, then seemed to become aware of her exasperation. ‘Why don’t you just wait and see how it all pans out?’
‘But what if I get in the wrong position? I might cause a rush!’
‘A rush, eh?’ His eyes twinkled again.
Lucy felt her face flush; she’d been researching drover terminology. ‘Fine,’ she snapped, ‘don’t bother trying to explain, I’ll just follow you.’
Ted started off again along the fence. ‘We just gotta push the cows to the camp at the back of the lagoon,’ he said over his shoulder. ‘Hold them there till all the riders get back, let them settle, then walk them to the yards.’
‘Right,’ said Lucy, exhaling. ‘That sounds simple enough.’ She squeezed Pagan on.
They proceeded in silence with the fence on their right for quite a way. On the other side of the fence was a narrow tongue of overgrown land that divided Coffee Pot from Two Moon Lagoon on the far side of the ridge. The trees and shrubs grew so thickly right up to the fence that Lucy doubted it was ever used for grazing.
Then the fence descended suddenly into a deep gully. Ted stopped at its base, where some water was trickling. From the permanently bowed trunks of the paperbarks, it looked to Lucy as though there must be quite a torrent here during the wet season. But now she noticed what Ted had seen instantly. The section of flood fence across the creek was broken, the hanging poles pushed to one side and the wire tangled among the rocks. Without a word to Lucy, Ted rode through the gap in the fence and started pushing his way up the gully into the dense vegetation.
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