The Cattleman's Daughter

by Rachael Treasure

  She saw, also, that the girls were learning intensely with Evie. She took them down to her mountain cottage and they played in her garden, learning about the plants and the way the draw of the moon pulled the roots earthward and the leaves skyward, depending on its wax or wane. At night, she taught them the patterns in the stars. Emily herself knew many plants, but Evie knew more. She knew their scientific names and their Aboriginal names, and she knew whether they were good tucker plants or good medicine. Although unfamiliar with horses, Evie went regularly to the stable to dress Snowgum’s injuries with herbal compounds and manuka honey. Snowgum was still unrideable as her wounds lay right where the girth would cinch tight, but Tilly and Meg took her out each day so she could pick at the fresh mountain meadows. One day Emily had found Meg standing with her eyes shut, her hands hovering above Snowgum’s wounds.

  ‘What are you doing, Meggy?’

  ‘Reiki,’ the four-year-old had answered matter-of-factly. ‘Universal healing. Evie showed me how.’

  ‘Meg tried to do it to me, Mum,’ Tilly said, ‘when I fell out of the tree. But it still hurt.’

  Emily had laughed at her girls and the change in them. In their past life, with Clancy, they had been shut down, trying to keep out of the way when their father was in one of his unpredictable rages. Now they were out every day with their ponies, grooming and saddling them up themselves, or spending hours just sitting astride them bareback and talking as the ponies grazed. Even Emily had ventured out on one of Flo’s old hacks one day, and the sheer dreaminess of riding the plains with the cool mountain air on her face had made her feel almost whole again.

  With her legs waxed, tingling with ti-tree oil and her face glowing from Bridie’s facial, Emily sat up smiling.

  ‘Thanks so much! I feel like a new woman.’

  ‘Oh, I’m not done with you yet. There’s hair and make-up to come. But you’ll have to come into the kitchen for that. Then I’ll dig out some of my skinny clothes for you and then we’re going to the pub.’

  ‘Oh, no, we’re not.’

  ‘Oh. Yes. We. Are. C’mon, I’ve got my hairdressing certificate – or at least half of it. I dropped out but I should remember enough.’ She steered Emily into the kitchen.

  ‘But what if Clancy’s —’

  ‘He won’t be there on a Thursday. He never comes up on a Thursday. Look, pub it is. I’ll call now and let Sam know we’ll be there soon and to line up the beers for us.’

  With that, she was gone to rummage around the bathroom for some scissors and a towel. As she heard her talking brightly to her cat, Beaver, Emily decided Bridie was the best, bossiest, funniest friend she’d ever known.

  Eighteen

  Luke Bradshaw tucked into a thick rump steak. As he chewed on the tender, locally grown grass-fed beef, he thought of Cassandra. She’d be spitting chips if she saw him eating beef, and that somehow made the steak taste even better.

  Beef was buggering the world, she’d told him once, horrified that his family had at one stage run cattle. She’d given him her spiel about everyone becoming a vegan to save the world as they stood outside a giant Direct Factory Outlet. Then she’d dragged him inside to buy new runners, made in some sweatshop in China. She was so full of it.

  But then Luke started to feel guilty. Cassy had propped him up and kept him at his studies in that big strange city. He did owe her. Perhaps he should call her? It had been pretty childish and mean to just walk out on her like that. He decided he’d phone – after he finished his steak.

  ‘You thinking about your girl again?’ Sam said, setting yet another beer on the table and sitting down to join him. ‘I can tell by the frown.’

  Luke shook his head. ‘She’s not my girl anymore. I’m cutting all ties. Moving out here a free man.’

  Sam sipped on his beer. ‘You might think that, but women, they think different. From what you’ve told me, she sounds like the sort of ex who’d boil your bunny in a stove-top pot.’

  Luke grinned. ‘Yeah, maybe. What about you? Got a girlfriend?’

  Sam shook his head. ‘In my game there are girls everywhere, but they want you for all the wrong reasons. They’re lusting after the fella on the stage – not me. So I’m only going to let them down in the long run. I’ve been the sort to have a girl in every port. But even that gets wearing after a time.’ Sam shrugged. ‘C’est la vie. That’s why I’m enjoying being back here so much. There’s no women to get distracted by.’

  ‘Good,’ said Luke. ‘Sounds like a top place.’ He swigged on his beer, feeding the bravado behind his words. ‘Women are the last thing I need right now. Just give me a block of land and a couple of horses, plus a river to fish in and I’ll be sweet.’

  ‘Just between you and me,’ Sam said, leaning closer, ‘back there in the store, if I read the body language right, you’ve already got a thing going for my sister.’

  Luke held up both his hands in protest.

  ‘Whoa there,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘I don’t do sisters.’

  ‘Yeah, sure you don’t,’ said Sam with a wink. Luke grinned, knowing Sam wasn’t far off the money.

  ‘She’s married, though, isn’t she?’

  ‘Not anymore she isn’t. But luckily for you, I know she won’t be interested in you now.’

  ‘Oh?’ said Luke.

  ‘She won’t go for a ranger, mate. It’s like dating the enemy round here. Once she finds out you’re one of them, she’ll soon lose that spark. Your mob wouldn’t like it and our mob wouldn’t either.’

  Luke nodded, taking in Sam’s words. He was shocked at the disappointment he felt in learning he didn’t stand a chance with Emily. After all, he’d known the girl for all of five minutes in two brief meetings. But something drew him to her so deeply he just couldn’t pin down the rush of his confused feelings. He decided to shrug the whole thing off.

  ‘C’est la vie,’ he said, echoing Sam. ‘I don’t really go for girls in dungers anyway.’ They both laughed.

  Just then the pub door swung open on the other side of the lounge and Bridie came in.

  ‘Announcing,’ she said in a booming voice, ‘Miss Emily!’

  She reached outside the door and dragged in Emily. Luke’s jaw dropped. Emily had been transformed from a grubby girl in oversized farmer’s clothes to the most stunning woman he’d ever seen. Her dark hair was cut sharply and had that sexy just-romped-in-the-bed look. Her large dark eyes shone and her full red lips looked innocent yet tempting all at once. She was wearing a tight-fitting red top that showed the curve of her breasts and her slender waist. That was all he could see from where he sat in the lounge. She was divine. She was heavenly. He wanted to scoop her up in his arms and kiss her. But something kept him glued to his seat. A shyness, a self-doubt, and the thought of Cassandra in the back of his mind. He swivelled around, shoved in the last mouthful of steak and kept his head down.

  ‘What were you were saying about girls in dungers?’ Sam said, nudging Luke and getting up to go over to the girls.

  At the bar Sam slung his arm around his sister’s shoulders and looked at Bridie. ‘You’re a genius. Not even the best make-up artists on my music videos could pull off a stunt like that!’

  For a moment Emily looked crestfallen, her self-image still bruised from life with Clancy.

  ‘You know that’s very rude,’ Bridie said, folding her arms across her chest.

  ‘I didn’t mean it like that!’

  ‘I can see you haven’t improved much since school.’

  ‘Well, I can see you have,’ Sam said, eyeing her tight black top appreciatively. ‘You look fantastic too!’

  Bridie turned to Emily. ‘He’s no better than your ex-husband. You poor thing, you’ve had a lousy selection of males to share your life with. Your father excluded, of course.’

  ‘Oi! That’s a bit harsh,’ Sam said. ‘I just meant Emily looks great.’

  ‘Mr Vanity,’ Bridie said, turning her back on him.

  ‘Miss Self-righteous,’ Sam
said huffily.

  ‘Come on, you two, be nice. Let’s just have a drink. Three beers please, Donna,’ Emily said.

  ‘No, make that four,’ said Bridie. ‘Luke, you are joining us, aren’t you? Or are you going to sit over there looking like a goldfish and staring at Emily all night?’ She winked at him. ‘Emily’s child-free tonight. The girls are staying at Rod’s so you best make the most of the local talent. It’s pretty thin on the ground round here.’

  Luke looked uncomfortable, but he stood and came over to them.

  Emily smiled when she saw Luke lob onto a bar stool beside her, his cute grin complete with dimple lighting up his face.

  ‘Welcome to Dargo,’ she said, turning towards him and raising her glass.

  ‘Why, thank you,’ he said, and the four of them clunked glasses.

  It wasn’t long until they had the pub rocking. Emily was swinging round on the tiny dance floor near the eight-ball table, her head tossed back, looking up at the hundreds of stubby holders from all over the countryside stapled to the pub’s high old walls. She was laughing while Luke swept her about to ‘Thank God I’m a Country Boy’, taking care of her injuries with his gentle touch.

  Even the fact that Luke came from the city didn’t bother her at this moment, though she’d never, ever been attracted to a townie before. All she knew was that she hadn’t felt this alive for years. In the days before her accident, and before Evie’s coaching, she would’ve reacted badly to discovering that Luke was the new VPP ranger. She was a cattleman’s daughter. The Parks people were, collectively, the enemy. She could tell Sam was amazed by her reaction when she heard about Luke’s job. She had thrown her hand carelessly in the air and said, ‘That’s life!’ Then, cheekily, she’d asked, ‘Are you coming to our rally in Melbourne next week?’

  Luke had smiled. ‘I just might do that. It sounds like it’ll be big.’

  ‘Be sure to wear your new Parkies uniform,’ teased Sam.

  ‘No way. It might get torn off me by your mob.’

  ‘Now that’d be a sight to see,’ Bridie said lasciviously.

  Sam cast her a jealous look. ‘Don’t be sexist.’

  ‘Pot calling the kettle black,’ said Bridie and she poked her tongue out at him.

  Emily watched the way Luke, a virtual stranger, seemed so at ease amongst them. She thought they were lucky Luke was moving into Dargo. He seemed polite and kind and very smart. Unlike some of the other arrogant young guns who had come to the area to work with Darcy the veteran ranger, Luke appeared keen to learn from the locals. Everyone in town respected Darcy, who had been born and bred in Dargo. But he was one of a dying breed of rangers, those who actually came from the land. The locals were suspicious of newcomers, particularly university graduates. The young guns had what they thought was knowledge of the land in their heads, but they did not yet know the land in their hearts and their hands. This new ranger seemed different somehow. When the song ended and they sat back at the table, Emily decided to test the water.

  ‘I’ve been reading something you might be interested in,’ she said.

  ‘Yeah? What’s that?’ Luke asked, leaning closer.

  ‘A friend of mine gave me a government land management plan from Tassie that really makes sense. Our own mountains here could be managed like it.’

  ‘Oh, come on!’ Sam said. ‘Don’t talk shop with the poor bugger now, Emily. Leave that bloody subject alone. He’s just rocked into town on a social visit. He’s not even in the job yet.’

  ‘No,’ Luke said, not taking his gaze from her. ‘It’s all right, I’m interested to hear. Really.’

  Emily cast Sam a sarcastic look. ‘In Tassie, they classify the land as having different uses and that influences how it’s managed. They set up committees made up of local groups, from Aborigines, to cattlemen, to conservationists, to fishermen, to four-wheel drivers and foresters. And the government employees facilitate and guide from the sidelines.’

  ‘Yeah? Well, that sounds like it makes much more sense to me than the “shut down the grassroots bases and run it from the city” approach,’ Luke said.

  ‘Exactly!’ Emily said, her eyes brightening.

  ‘That’s the major flaw in the system,’ Luke said. ‘The people in the offices dishing out the funding and making the decisions are in Melbourne. They aren’t the ones riding through the land swathed with blackberries every day. It’s so easy to get out of touch being based in Melbourne. Believe me, I know!’

  ‘Yes!’ said Emily.

  ‘Oh, come on, you two,’ Sam said. ‘This will go on all night. Just don’t get her started on the government policy to put out every natural fire started by lightning. She’s just like Pa, endlessly predicting a holocaust of fire. Can we please just get on with pubbing?’

  ‘But, Sam, this is so exciting,’ Emily said. ‘Having someone like Luke in Dargo could mean the start of Parks and the cattlemen working together!’ Emily’s eyes met Luke’s and she could feel his excitement too.

  ‘No offence, Luke, but if it didn’t work with Darcy, it won’t work with anyone,’ Sam said.

  ‘But Luke is the start of a new breed,’ Emily argued. ‘He’s got the letters after his name and the bureaucrats love that!’

  Suddenly the familiar beat of Sam’s number-one hit was blasting from the jukebox.

  They turned to see Bridie dancing and grinning at them.

  ‘You little fox. Turn that effing song off!’ Sam was off his stool and running to flick the switch on the wall. The song died suddenly.

  In the silence that followed Bridie said crossly, ‘Why’d you do that? I’d just put six bucks’ worth of songs into that.’

  ‘Donna will give you a refund.’

  ‘But I wanted to hear that song!’

  ‘Well, I didn’t.’

  ‘Well, I did!’

  ‘Well, I don’t! End of story.’

  Bridie and Sam were facing each other, frustration and annoyance on their faces.

  ‘Party pooper,’ she said.

  ‘Shit stirrer,’ he said.

  Moments later, the jukebox was firing again, minus Sam’s song in the playlist, and Sam and Bridie were dancing together like a pair of courting birds, laughing, smiling, mucking about. Emily shook her head at the sight of them. What a confusing pair, one minute having a stoush, next minute best buddies. She and Luke, on the other hand, seemed to click effortlessly on every level. She felt like she’d known him for years.

  At the end of the song, Emily reluctantly let go of Luke’s hands and excused herself, suddenly feeling giddy. She wasn’t used to drinking. But on her way to the toilets she found it hard to wipe the smile from her face. The loos were right round the back of the old pub so Emily made her way along the side verandah, past the piles of empty silver beer kegs that gleamed in Dargo’s solitary streetlight.

  As she washed her hands she checked herself out in the mirror, still startled by her new look. She couldn’t wait for her hair to grow long again, but she was amazed at the difference Bridie’s styling had made. And while Emily didn’t normally like make-up, she did like how Bridie had highlighted the fullness of her lips and brought out the sparkle in her big eyes. For the first time ever, Emily glimpsed the depth of her own beauty.

  She leaned towards the mirror and tried to look into the core of herself. Where had she gone when her body had lain so still on that rocky bank? What had her eyes within really seen?

  She had a flash, a quick vision of a sawn-slab hotel with a sagging bark roof and sawdust floor. Of drunken miners, Tipperary men, the shysters of the town, giggling as they shaved a horse’s mane and tail. She saw the handsome young minister of her dream asking for his horse to be saddled. Then a glimmer of the priest being shunted forward on the pub verandah to receive his horse. The men were drunkenly lurching and laughing as they backed the horse up to him and presented the shaved horse with the bridle hung on its backside on what was left of its tail.

  Rough men rebelling against any kind of authority
. So much like Uncle Bob. God and grog. This place was founded on it. Emily’s reflection focused again on the here and now and she breathed in suddenly. She shook her head. Evie spoke of energies and had given her books to read on time theories. Could all this goldmining palaver still be going on here, in some other dimension? And the Aborigines, were they still here too, gathering moths up on the plains when the seasons were right?

  Emily was shocked at her thoughts. She was a simple mountain cattleman’s daughter, who liked to drove cattle, ride educated horses, drink at the pub and eat a counter meal occasionally. She didn’t ask questions about life, death, the universe and everything. Suddenly she burst out laughing. It was no use fighting it. Since the accident, she was irrevocably changed – and she liked it. She was learning so she could teach her girls to have a mind as open as the universe and a core of integrity as strong as the pull of gravity. Like Evie. And Bridie was teaching her she deserved the joys of life and she deserved beauty along with it.

  Emily strode back into the pub and took Luke’s hand, leading him onto the dancefloor with a confidence she’d never felt before. Her eyes shone. She felt truly beautiful.

  That was until she noticed an eighteen-wheeler, lit up like a neon sign, rolling into town. As the truck pulled up outside the pub and the air brakes hissed like snakes, Emily froze. It was Clancy.

  Respond, Emily said to herself. Don’t react. Clancy stood on the road with his legs wide apart and his arms curved out from his body like a gunslinging outlaw from the Wild West. His red truck, like a giant armoured steed, loomed behind him. He watched her through the window.