Lang Downs

by Ariel Tachna

  “Good thing too. Let’s get the horses turned out and see what else the boss needs us to do.”

  Behind them, one of the jackaroos muttered something under his breath. Harris spun on his heel. “You got a problem with working a full day for your pay, Jenkins?”

  The man flushed but didn’t say anything.

  “What’s the deal?” Jeremy asked after the man had slunk away. “It’s been a while since I’ve been here, and I never worked here, but I don’t remember this kind of attitude.”

  “It’s not all of them,” Harris said, “and Jenkins is the worst, by far, but I think the rumors hurt the station when it came to some of their seasonal men. They had to hire people they wouldn’t have looked twice at in the past. Some of them, a lot of them, really, have stepped up to do their jobs, but a few of them haven’t even tried to learn what they were supposed to do.”

  “I didn’t realize it had gotten that bad,” Jeremy said with a shake of his head. “Did they lose any year-rounders?”

  “I don’t think so,” Harris said, “but this was my first season, so I don’t know who was here before. The only empty house when I came seemed to be the foreman’s house, though, and Neil and Molly have moved into that now. Macklin offered Neil’s old house to Chris and Seth, well, and me, I guess, by extension.”

  That explained the looks he’d seen pass between the two men off and on all day as well as Harris’s attitude toward the younger Simms brother. “Hopefully next year will be better,” Jeremy said.

  “Yeah, and if it’s not, at least we’ll be expecting it and can plan to deal with it better.”

  Four

  JEREMY HAD just sat down at one of the empty tables in the canteen when Harris walked up and plonked his plate down across from him. “You sitting over here by yourself for a reason?”

  Jeremy shrugged. “Emery’s pretty much poisoned the year-rounders against me, and the seasonal jackaroos all know each other already. Didn’t seem like there was anywhere else to sit.”

  “Neil’s really not that bad once you get to know him,” Harris said. “I’ve heard stories of what he was like when he first found out about Caine, but he’s come around. He’s never given Chris and me a moment’s grief, and he shuts down anyone who tries to say anything about Caine and Macklin before they can say more than the second word.”

  “That isn’t why he hates me,” Jeremy said. “My brother owns Taylor Peak—you knew that, right?” Harris nodded. “My father and Old Man Lang were good neighbors. Not good friends, probably, but good neighbors, but then my dad died and Devlin took over. Lang offered his condolences, his help, anything Devlin needed, out of respect for my father and their long-standing acquaintance, but Devlin refused. He said Lang was soft, that he was old-fashioned, and that he was irresponsible on top of that since he’d never married. What would happen to the land when he died?”

  “Caine,” Harris said with a chuckle.

  “Yes, but we didn’t know about him at the time. We were neighbors, but we didn’t know a lot about his family, nothing about a niece in the US, much less a great-nephew. Anyway, after a while, that irresponsible bit changed. Devlin decided he’d buy the property. He made an offer and Lang rejected him. That might have been the end of it, except Devlin couldn’t leave well enough alone. To hear him tell it, Lang insulted him, said he’d burn the place to the ground before he’d sell to Devlin. I find that hard to believe. Mr. Lang was a lot of things, including a hard enough man to carve this place out of nothing, but he wasn’t cruel. Not that I’ve ever seen or heard.”

  “That’s certainly not the impression I got of him from the people here who knew him,” Harris agreed. “He’s somewhere between a saint and a minor deity to the men who worked with him.”

  “I’d guess the reality is somewhere in between,” Jeremy said. “It usually is when you’ve got that kind of difference of opinion, but it doesn’t matter what Lang actually said to Devlin. Devlin was even more determined to buy Lang Downs. And then Caine came. Devlin approached Macklin when we first heard the station had passed to a relative in the US. He thought he could convince Macklin to use his position as foreman to influence the relative’s decisions. I have a suspicion Macklin did just that, only to convince Caine not to sell to Devlin instead of the other way around. That was already bad enough. Then word got around that Caine was gay, and he got intolerable. He called Caine every name you could imagine and set about spreading as many rumors as he could. When he found out about Macklin as well… well, you can imagine the explosion that caused.”

  Harris shook his head. “Don’t think I want to.”

  “I won’t say all the problems you’ve had this year are Devlin’s fault. Someone said enough that Devlin heard about it in the first place, but I know he hasn’t made it easier either,” Jeremy said, “and the year-rounders have to know that even if it’s more guess than fact. I knew I’d have an uphill battle if I came here, but I came anyway because it’s still better than anywhere else I might go.”

  “It is that,” Harris replied. “This is the ninth station I’ve worked on. None of the others have come even close to the sense of belonging here. I’m not saying it’ll be easy, with all the bad blood between the stations, but unless there’s something you haven’t told me, you weren’t directly involved. And if that’s the case, you can carve a place for yourself here just like Chris and I have done.”

  Jeremy pondered that for a moment. He’d accepted that he’d burned his bridges with Devlin when he left the way he did. Devlin would probably take him back if he toed the line and got married, but Jeremy didn’t intend to do that, certainly not unless gay marriage was legalized at some point, and that wouldn’t help his cause with Devlin anyway. He’d come to Lang Downs because he’d known Macklin would take him in for a few days without question. He’d hoped more might come of it, but it had seemed a slim hope at best, and the near fight with Emery hadn’t helped change that opinion. Today had been different, though. Today he’d felt like part of the crew, like he actually had something to contribute to the station. Lang Downs might or might not need an extra hand over the winter, but they certainly needed the help now—help Jeremy was well qualified to give.

  “Maybe I will,” he said with a smile.

  “Finish your supper,” Harris ordered. “Patrick should be back with the supplies, and that means Chris and I have beer again. You should come have one with us.”

  “Are you sure?” Jeremy asked. “I wouldn’t want to impose.”

  “I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it,” Harris—Jeremy supposed he ought to start thinking of the man as Jesse if he was going to drink his beer—replied, standing up. “It’s the house closest to the bunkhouse. We’ll be up for a couple of hours if you change your mind.”

  “Nothing to change,” Jeremy said quickly. “I’d love to have a beer with you.”

  “HOW DID it go?” Neil asked, sitting down next to Sam at the table.

  Sam grinned. “I got the job.”

  “I knew you would,” Neil said with an answering smile. He sobered for a moment. “Is it what you want?”

  “Maybe not forever,” Sam replied honestly. “It’s not something I ever thought about, you know? I never considered moving out of the city. This is nearly as foreign to me as moving to the States would be. That said, I really enjoyed working with Caine today, and it’s not like I have a lot of other offers. At least this way I can get my feet back under me. If I look for another job in six months or a year, I’ll be doing it with a fresh job on my resume, not with more than a year of unemployment as the top entry.”

  “Yeah, always a good thing.”

  “Are you going to be okay with me staying with you?” Sam asked. “I didn’t know it would turn into a long-term thing when I asked if I could come.”

  “There aren’t a lot of other options,” Neil said. “The foreman’s house was only empty because Macklin moved into the big house. Otherwise you’d be crammed into one of the bachelor houses
with Molly and me both. I mean, I guess you could move into the bunkhouse when the seasonal jackaroos leave in a couple of weeks, but that’s hardly comfortable for more than a season.”

  “Maybe not, but in a season, maybe other options will open up,” Sam said. “You and Molly deserve your privacy, not to mention you might need that guest room for a nursery one of these days.”

  “Eventually, maybe,” Neil said, “but we aren’t planning on starting a family right away. We want some time to be together just as a couple first.”

  “Speaking of which, how are the plans coming?’ Sam asked.

  “Molly wants to go to Yass in a couple of weeks, after the breeding’s done, to look at places for the reception,” Neil said. “Once we do that, we can start making other plans. I don’t know why we don’t just have it here on the station. Caine would let us use the canteen. And there will be plenty of space in the bunkhouse in the middle of winter if people want to come and stay overnight after the ceremony. You should have seen the Christmas party we had. Caine’s mother even talked Macklin into dancing.”

  “With her or with Caine?” Sam asked.

  “Both,” Neil said. “I couldn’t believe it, but everyone clapped and cheered.”

  “You couldn’t believe they danced or that everyone clapped?”

  “Mostly that they danced,” Neil said. “They keep their affection for each other pretty tightly under wraps when the rest of the men are around, even the year-rounders whose loyalty isn’t in question.”

  “Why?” Sam asked. “I mean, I can understand why they might not want to be obvious in town, but here on the station? It’s not like it’s a secret.”

  “You’d have to ask them,” Neil said, “but I think some of it is professionalism, some of it is Macklin being an incredibly private person, and some of it is not wanting to make other people uncomfortable in what is their home for the summer.”

  “I get the professionalism and the being private, but what about them being comfortable in their home?”

  “Like I said, that would be a question for them,” Neil said, “but Molly and I aren’t terribly demonstrative during the day either. I mean, I don’t go around kissing her in the canteen or out by the sheds. It’s just not the right place for it.”

  Sam nodded. “Yeah, I guess that’s true.”

  “But the Christmas party was just that,” Neil said. “A party. The expectations were different. It was the first time since Caine’s arrival that had happened.”

  “Has it happened since then?”

  “Maybe Seth’s birthday party,” Neil replied after a moment. “It wasn’t exactly the same. Nobody was dancing, but it was a party and the atmosphere was much lighter than a typical dinner. Come to think of it, I did see Macklin standing with his arm around Caine. Is there a reason this is so important to you?”

  “Trying to figure out how to fit in,” Sam said with a shrug. “I don’t know how long I’ll be here, but who knows? Maybe I’ll meet someone someday and want to bring him back here with me. Maybe I’ll even meet someone here, not necessarily this winter, but next season maybe there will be someone for me, like you met Molly.”

  “You never know,” Neil said. “It happened to Chris and Jesse. So I guess the answer is for you to watch them and to watch Caine and Macklin. That should give you some sense of how to go on.”

  “SO WE have a new office manager?” Macklin asked Caine as they got ready for bed that evening.

  “We do,” Caine said. “By counting room and board as part of his salary, we don’t have to pay him as much in cash, and having someone who’s actually familiar with Aussie laws will almost certainly save us money in the long run. And we had a good season, even being shorthanded. We sold a record number of lambs and had minimal attrition among the breeding ewes. We’ll have all the wool in the spring plus the new lambs. We’ll be fine.”

  “And hopefully next season we’ll have a better group of hands,” Macklin agreed.

  “Even if the same ones come back, they’ll know more when they start than they did this spring,” Caine said. “And with Jesse familiar with the station now, he’ll be able to step up as a crew boss instead of just another jackaroo.”

  “Jeremy has the experience as well,” Macklin said, “although he may not be quite as familiar with the precise lay of the land.”

  “It won’t take him long to learn that,” Caine said. “If we make a point of sending him out with whatever crews go out over the winter, he’ll know the station well enough by spring.”

  “We’re going to have to keep an eye on Neil,” Macklin warned. “He’s a hothead and Jeremy is from Taylor Peak.”

  “I thought the tension was between Devlin and Uncle Michael,” Caine said. “And then between Devlin and us.”

  “It is,” Macklin replied, “but Neil sees the name Taylor and won’t look any farther. You know how he is.”

  Caine did indeed know. He’d had the same problem with Neil seeing only the label “gay” and not the rest of Caine’s merits when he first found out about Caine. “I’d like to hope it won’t come to Jeremy having to save Neil’s life to get him to reconsider his position.”

  “We’ll hope not, although Jeremy being gay won’t help any.”

  “I wasn’t planning on telling Neil that part,” Caine said with a grin.

  “I wasn’t either, but I don’t know how long Jeremy will want to keep it a secret,” Macklin said. “I overheard conversations between some of the seasonal jackaroos about hooking up on their nights off. Now that they aren’t afraid of losing their jobs for being gay, they’re more open about it than they ever would have been before—here or anywhere else. Jeremy’s unattached and attractive, and who knows how long it’s been since he last made a trip to town? He might decide to take advantage of the opportunity while he can, and really, why shouldn’t he as long as he gets his work done?”

  That was news to Caine, but then he tried to stay out of the bunkhouse as much as possible. He wanted the jackaroos to feel like they had their own space where they could relax without the boss hanging over their shoulders constantly.

  “As long as the work’s done, what they do on their own time is up to them,” Caine agreed. “I was thinking we should take a trip for a few days this winter.”

  “Did you have somewhere in mind?” Macklin asked, seemingly unfazed by the sudden change of subject.

  “Well, I’ve already been to Sydney, so not there,” Caine said. “Where’s your favorite place in Australia?”

  “We’re sitting in it.”

  The words warmed Caine all the way through, but they didn’t help. “Your favorite place outside of Lang Downs.”

  “I don’t know,” Macklin said. “I haven’t really traveled all that much. I ended up here at sixteen and haven’t really left except for my yearly trip to Sydney.”

  “Well, where did you live before you came here?” Caine said, giving up on being discreet. “It could be fun to visit your hometown.”

  “There is nothing in Tumut that I have any desire to revisit,” Macklin said in a flat voice. Caine nodded but inside, he was jumping with delight. He had the name of Macklin’s hometown now. He might not get Macklin to go back there, but it gave him a place to start his search. Macklin had lived there until he was fifteen. Even if his family was no longer there, Caine ought to be able to find some record of him.

  “Okay, so where’s somewhere you’ve always wanted to go?” Caine asked. If he gave up on the vacation idea that quickly, Macklin would suspect something, and Caine didn’t want that. If he wasn’t successful or if he didn’t find good news, he didn’t want Macklin to be disappointed.

  “Perth,” Macklin said.

  “We can look into that,” Caine said. “What do you think?”

  Macklin shrugged. “No harm in looking, I suppose. I’m just not much of a traveler. I only went to Sydney all those years because Michael insisted.”

  “My homebody,” Caine said with a smile. “Come to bed now?�
�

  Macklin shot him a wolfish smile as he pulled off his thick shirt. Caine leaned back against the pillows and prepared to enjoy the show.

  Five

  SAM LOOKED around the canteen, trying to decide where to sit. With the breeding finished, three weeks into his tenure on the station, the seasonal jackaroos would be leaving in the morning. Kami had broken out the barbie and grilled up more meat than Sam figured three times as many people could eat, along with more sides than Sam knew what to do with. Everyone was in high spirits, the emotion rubbing off even on Sam, but that didn’t solve his current problem. Molly and Neil had left for Yass as soon as Macklin declared the work done for the day so they could look at venues for their wedding and reception, leaving Sam with no one he really knew. He’d spent the days working in the office and the evenings with Neil and Molly, or else alone in his room if the other two seemed to want some privacy. He’d gotten a lot of work done, which was good, but he hadn’t made any new friends beyond his soon-to-be sister-in-law.

  “Don’t stand there blocking the food. Come sit down.” Sam couldn’t remember the name of the kid who spoke, but he followed him back to the table where he was sitting with another kid, two jackaroos… and Jeremy Taylor.

  “I’m Jason, by the way,” the kid said. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced.”

  “Sam,” he said automatically. “Sam Emery. So what do you do on the station?”

  “My dad’s the head mechanic,” Jason said, “but I don’t really like engines. I’d much rather work with the animals. Macklin lets me help out some now that I’m old enough. I’m going to be a vet some day and come back here and take care of all the animals.”

  “How can you not like engines?” the other kid interrupted. From the look on both boys’ faces, it was a familiar argument.

  “And just like that, we won’t get another word out of them tonight not related to the merits of engines versus animals. I’m Chris. That’s my brother, Seth. This is Jesse and Jeremy.”