by Karly Lane
‘Amongst other things.’
‘Oh really?’ she said, closing her book and smiling as he leaned across her chair, trapping her with his strong arms.
‘Really.’
‘It just so happens we have the house all to ourselves. Your mother went into town.’
‘I know, I passed her on the way out,’ he said with a roguish grin.
Later, as she watched Dan pulling on his boots, Rilee stretched in the tangle of sheets they’d created. ‘I wonder when all this sex will wear off.’
‘You got a problem with it?’ he quizzed, sending her a grin over his broad shoulder.
Rilee’s chuckle was a low murmur. ‘No, but I figure it eventually gets old, unless your parents still have an afternoon quickie?’
‘Never. Ever. Say those words out loud again,’ he groaned, and gave a shiver of abhorrence.
Rilee raised an eyebrow. ‘You think you were some kind of immaculate conception?’ she asked drolly.
‘I try very hard never to think of my parents and the word “conception” in the same sentence.’
‘Your family is definitely on the conservative side. I guess that’s just another thing we’re opposites in,’ Rilee said with a small grimace. ‘My parents have always believed sex was a gift. They’ve never understood why most people treat it like some dirty little secret no one should talk about.’ There had been times as a teenager when she’d wished her parents had been a little less forthright with their views on sex. It was just lucky she’d never had to worry about having friends over for it to be a major embarrassment.
Her childhood had been anything but normal. She’d grown up in a commune in the hills outside Nimbin in the far north of New South Wales, where everything they had was either grown or bartered for and the outside world barely existed. While it should have been an ideal world for a child to grow up in, with everything focused on nature and none of the stresses of modern-day life, for Rilee it was a prison. She missed her friends, she missed the city, she’d never even visited a farm before they moved there. She didn’t fit in.
There had been many times she’d been ashamed of the lifestyle her family led. People used to look at them with disdain when they went into town to buy supplies; the general assumption was that there was far too much free love and drug-taking going on. In reality, life in the commune was relatively normal, just in a slightly unconventional way. They had school lessons throughout the day and chores to do, just like the rest of Australia; they just didn’t go to school and there was very little modern technology.
There were about forty people in the community, mostly families with children. Rilee was one of the eldest kids, with most of the others much younger, which was difficult. She missed having someone her own age to talk to and often envied the younger ones who all played and formed sibling-like ties with each other. They made fun of the fact she was scared of the animals and hated getting dirty. They’d grown up in the community and didn’t know anything except the life they were living. They didn’t even seem to care that they’d never visited a city and had no interest in ever doing so. Rilee didn’t understand that at all. Why would they want to stay in a place like this for the rest of their lives when there was so much more of the world to see?
Dan gave a hollow laugh. ‘You’re right, we did have opposite upbringings.’
She could imagine the type of childhood Dan would have had. He may have grown up with wealth, living on one of the biggest properties in the district, but Jacob Kincaid would have been a difficult father to please. It was hard enough watching him when he spoke to Dan as a fully grown man. Many times Rilee felt the urge to throw her arms around Dan to protect him from the hostility and disapproval in his father’s voice. It must have been lonely for him with both his sisters having left home when he was still quite young.
She’d gathered from the few things Dan had said that his mother had had trouble conceiving after the two girls and had almost given up hope of ever having the male heir they’d been hoping for, then Dan had arrived. She’d never be game enough to bring the subject up with Ellen, who seemed such an intensely private woman, but Rilee knew trying to have children and no doubt having miscarried quite a few along the way had to have been a devastating experience for the poor woman.
After Dan went back to work, Rilee found herself feeling unusually melancholy. It was strange how as a child you saw things so differently. Her childhood really hadn’t been so bad—the things she’d always thought so important, like money and expensive clothes, hadn’t brought her happiness in the end. It had taken returning to Australia for her to realise she wanted to be a naturopath. It was in her blood. Her mother had been a naturopath without knowing it, learning from her own grandmother as a child, using natural remedies for everything from a cold to sunburn to treating wounds. The benefit of modern-day naturopathy was that with the help of science she could explain the mechanics of how herbal medicine worked. People were more inclined to trust something that could be explained scientifically rather than left in the realm of witches and hippies. She wasn’t entirely reassured that Pallaburra was going to embrace her profession quite as much as she’d hoped. If Errol and the earlier café experience was anything to go by, she wasn’t feeling exactly confident.
Rilee rested her head on her arm as she lay on her side watching her husband the next morning.
‘What’s on the agenda today, Mrs Kincaid?’ Dan asked as he pulled on his boots.
‘I’m going into town to talk to the real estate agent. I want to see if they have anything suitable to rent for my rooms.’ She saw Dan’s smile waver slightly and frowned. ‘What?’
‘Nothing. That’s great.’
‘Why is it that I get the feeling you’re not very supportive of this?’
‘I am. I think it’s great that you’ve got something to keep you occupied.’
‘Like my career?’ she said dryly.
‘I just…I don’t want you to be disappointed.’
‘In what way?’
‘This isn’t the city. People here take a while to come around to…new things. I just don’t want you to get all excited about your business and then see it fail.’
‘You think I’ll fail?’
‘Not you. I know you’re good at what you do, Ri. But I’m just not sure you’re going to have the kind of success you might have had somewhere else.’
Rilee stared at him silently for a few moments as the hurt trickled into annoyance. ‘Funny how you weren’t being this open about my chances of starting my own clinic when we were discussing getting married.’
‘I want you to do what makes you happy, Ri. I just don’t want you to be disappointed if it doesn’t work.’
‘And I’m not going to sit around out here and become your mother. I’m not interested in being on every damn committee in town, or running off to the city to shop. This has been my dream, Dan.’
‘I know, but would it hurt to leave it for a year or two?’
‘A year or two? Do you have any idea how hard I’ve studied to get this far? Take a look at those bookshelves, Dan—do you see any Mills and Boon on there? No, you don’t, and you know why? Because those big, fat chemistry, anatomy and pharmaceutical textbooks are taking up all the room!’ she said, waving her hand at the shelves across from them. ‘Do you have any idea what I gave up to come out here? I had a client base back in Sydney—I would have had full bookings seven days a week if I wanted to work that much. People respected what I do. I left all that behind to come to a place where people think what I do is mumbo jumbo, and I did that because I love you. Don’t you dare stand there and dismiss what I do as though it’s something insignificant. I gave up my life to be here with you and for that I deserve a hell of a lot more respect than you and everyone else out here have been giving me.’
‘I do respect you. I know what you gave up to be here.’ Dan reached out to touch the side of her face gently. ‘I just don’t want to see you get disappointed.’
‘This
is what I know. This is what I’m trained to do.’
He didn’t reply straight away, but when he did his expression seemed intent. ‘We could have a baby.’
Rilee held his hopeful gaze and blinked away the surprise. They’d spoken about having kids, but Rilee always assumed he would understand that she wanted to work first. Having her own business would give her the flexibility to work around having children, but surely he understood she’d need to build up her business before they could do that? ‘I can’t believe you can just shrug off everything I’ve worked so hard for like this.’
‘I’m just saying that if things didn’t go according to plan, we could always just go straight to starting a family. I want kids with you, Ri.’
Rilee was torn between the sweetness of his comment and the way he could dismiss her career so lightly. ‘I do too, but I want my career first. I need to do this, Dan, and I’m going to, with or without your support.’
Dan studied her silently before nodding his head and kissing her forehead. ‘You’ll always have my support. I love you, Ri.’
She listened to his footsteps echo down the hallway before she went back to mentally organising her morning, but some of the earlier excitement had gone from the task. Doubt lingered at the back of her mind. What if Dan was right? What if, despite all her hard work, her business failed? Could she be happy without her career? All this time she’d justified giving up her city clinic by thinking that people needed care no matter where they lived. But had she been living in denial about the whole thing in order not to feel as though she’d sold out her dream by moving here?
She’d thought hard about her decision, and it hadn’t been made lightly. But when it came right down to it, she could not imagine life without Dan in it. She still believed she’d made the right choice, she’d just thought she’d be able to have a career as well as a husband. Now she wasn’t so confident.
Rilee ran her hand along the majestic carved balustrade of the staircase as she walked downstairs. The house was nothing short of magnificent. It had been built by Dan’s great-great-great-grandfather during the gold rush, thanks to a fortune made supplying the goldfields and townships which had sprung up all over the countryside in these parts. Rilee stopped and studied the various photos that lined the walls. She never grew tired of looking at them. Her favourite was the yellowing photo dated 1885 with people lining both the upstairs and lower verandahs. The family members were easily recognised by their clothing, the women wearing expensive-looking dresses with bonnets and the men wearing suits, complete with top hats. The rest of the people in the photo were staff, Rilee assumed, and it was astounding to see how many there were. There were women, young and old, in white aprons and frilly hats, stockmen with slouched hats and riding boots, and young stable boys and workers’ children. There had to be at least forty people in the photo. Thumb Creek in its heyday. Nowadays only Dan, foreman Mark, Jacob and a few part-time labourers in busy times were needed to keep the farm running, thanks to modern technology and equipment, and Mrs Pike, the housekeeper.
‘Impressive, isn’t it?’
Rilee turned and saw Ellen at the bottom of the stairs watching her. ‘It sure is. So much history,’ she said, shaking her head.
‘The Kincaids certainly have that.’
‘It must be nice to live in a place built by the family’s ancestors.’
‘I’ve always found it…somewhat stifling.’
That surprised Rilee. Not only the fact Ellen had revealed something like that to her but that anyone could find a beautiful old building like this stifling.
‘I’ve always preferred the city,’ she said. ‘Which is why I have my concerns about your marriage.’
Rilee tried to keep her expression neutral. ‘Oh?’
‘I came from the city, much like you, with little idea what I was getting myself into. It wasn’t fair of Dan to marry someone like you.’
‘Like me? How?’
‘Dan explained that you were in the process of starting up a clinic in the city before he met you. I know what it’s like to give up on your dreams for a man, and I can tell you, while it all seems romantic right now, a few years down the track you won’t be thinking that.’
Rilee opened her mouth to protest but Ellen held up a hand, silencing her. ‘I’m giving you some advice that I wish someone had given me a long time ago. If you have any doubts, you need to speak up now and leave. The longer you stay the deeper this place drags you in, until you can’t leave, and one day you’ll wake up and realise you’ve missed your chance.’
Rilee stared at her mother-in-law, taken aback by her candid revelation. On some level she knew she was being insulted, but all Rilee could hear was the bitter resentment of a woman who lived with great regret.
There was no hiding the fact that Dan’s parents had their problems. They had separate bedrooms, for starters. She’d asked Dan about it, but he’d shaken his head and told her not to go nosing around in his parents’ problems. ‘Don’t you care? Aren’t you worried about them?’ she’d asked, unable to hide the incredulity in her tone.
‘Of course I care but, Ri,’ he’d sighed and scratched the back of his neck, something he tended to do when he felt awkward, ‘my parents are private people. They don’t discuss their problems…with anyone. Not me and especially not someone they’ve just met,’ he said pointedly.
‘But it’s not healthy.’
‘That’s the way it’s always been. Mum does her thing, and Dad does his. Sometimes they avoid each other, sometimes they’re okay. I gave up trying to work out their marriage years ago. We just don’t discuss it.’
She held Ellen’s gaze firmly, making it clear she wasn’t backing down. ‘I love Dan very much,’ Rilee said. ‘I wasn’t expecting it, and it didn’t come along at the best time, but it happened and I’ll go wherever he goes.’
‘I hope you don’t think you’ll ever convince Daniel to leave here. You’ll be sadly disappointed if you do. This place runs through their veins.’
‘I wasn’t thinking that.’ The thought had never crossed her mind. She’d realised right from the start that when he was in Sydney there was always a part of him wishing he were back home. ‘Everything about our relationship has been a whirlwind, I know, and I’m sorry that you and I didn’t have time to get to know each other beforehand, but what’s done is done and I hope we can make up for lost time now.’
Ellen stared at her with a contemplative expression before giving a slight nod. ‘I just felt someone should warn you,’ she said and walked away without a further word.
Rilee turned back to the photo on the wall, and rubbed her arms briskly to ward off the distinctive chill left in the air.
Eight
The sound of clucking and squawking came from the chook pen as she headed towards the large fenced-off enclosure. Unlatching the timber-framed door covered in wire, she edged inside, holding the two buckets before her like a shield.
She eyed a few birds pecking at the ground across from her and gave them a wide berth, but as soon as they realised she was there, their interest picked up and they began to close in on her quickly. Rilee hated their evil little chook eyes, which at the moment were fixed firmly on her as they circled like feathered sharks, but what she hated even more was the rooster. Big Red was what she called him, amongst other things. He’d made her chore a living hell since the very first day. Rilee spotted him making a beeline for her at alarming speed.
One of the hens flapped her wings in the dust at her and Rilee yelped, throwing the contents of the bucket. She didn’t care that half the kitchen scraps ended up on top of the closest of the chooks, she just made use of the distraction, hurrying inside the covered area where the laying boxes were found.
The pungent smell of chook manure was rather overpowering first thing in the morning as she gathered the eggs, some still warm, in the bucket, caring less about how careful she was being and more about getting out of the smelly chook pen alive. She kept an eye on the remainder of t
he pack…herd…brood…she was past caring if she had the correct terminology. She wasn’t sure how far up on the intelligence scale chooks were, surely nowhere near dolphins or elephants, but Red in particular seemed to harbour a vendetta against her, and Rilee was positive the look in his beady black eye was one of smugness as he paced back and forth in front of the doorway.
‘I’m bigger than you, and I’m smarter than you—I have two degrees, for God’s sake! I can do this!’ she muttered fiercely.
With a deep breath she marched back into the pen. Within seconds the angry rooster ran towards her, lunging and trying to strike her with his sharp claws.
Rilee threw an egg at him and ran as fast as she could to the main gate, slamming it behind her as Red crowed and squawked loudly on the other side.
‘Well, I hate you too, you stupid bird,’ Rilee yelled. As far as she was concerned, chooks were something she’d much rather buy frozen from the supermarket!
‘I’ve never seen him act like that before.’
Oh great, of all the people who could have witnessed her harassment by the rooster it had to be Ellen. ‘I’ve never really gotten on with animals.’
‘I wouldn’t have thought that, having being raised in the country.’
‘I wasn’t very outdoorsy.’
‘I see.’
Rilee fought the urge to grit her teeth. The woman had the most annoying habit of adding disapproval to the smallest word.
‘Well, if collecting the eggs is too much of a challenge for you, you don’t have to do it.’
‘It’s fine. I’ll manage.’ It wasn’t like she had anything else to do. Steadfast Mrs Pike, with her severe bun and sensible shoes, had everything in the house under control, and really didn’t seem to have much to do with anyone on a personal level. It was hard to determine the woman’s age, somewhere in her fifties at a guess, but Rilee suspected that if she smiled more often she’d look at least ten years younger.
The relationship between the housekeeper and Ellen was interesting to observe. It was like something out of the Edwardian era. Ellen swanned about the house like some lady of the manor and Mrs Pike did everything except bob into a curtsy and say ‘Yes ma’am’ after each exchange. Rilee had tried on more than one occasion to engage the housekeeper in conversation, but she had never got very far, other than short, respectful replies. Dan didn’t really see anything strange about it. ‘Some people just aren’t chatty, Ri,’ he said with a shrug.