Lang Downs

by Ariel Tachna

  Carley caught his elbow as he passed. “I won’t pry, but if you decide you need to talk, I’m here.”

  “Thanks, Mum.”

  JEREMY STOOD in the corridor outside the ICU in Canberra. The doctors there had done everything they could to stabilize Devlin, but the nurse hadn’t sounded optimistic about his prognosis. She’d promised to send a doctor to explain everything to him as soon as one was available.

  “Mr. Taylor?”

  “Yes, I’m Taylor,” Jeremy said, turning to face the doctor. His worn, tired face did nothing to encourage Jeremy. “How’s my brother?”

  “Not good,” the doctor said. “I’m not going to lie. The fall caused bleeding in the brain. We’ve drained some to try to take the pressure off and avoid brain damage, but given the amount of time between when he was injured and when we began treatment, some damage is almost inevitable. We’re going to keep him here overnight to make sure he’s stable enough to move, but we would recommend transporting him to Sydney to a level 1 trauma center. If nothing else, they’ll have more resources to help him adapt to his new situation.”

  Jeremy shook his head in automatic rejection. “He runs a sheep station. He has men depending on him.”

  “I’m sorry, Mr. Taylor, but the realities of his life don’t change the realities of his current medical condition. We’ll do everything we can for him, but it’s going to be a long time before he’ll be in any shape to run the station again. If he lives.”

  “Thank you for your time,” Jeremy said automatically. He could feel his world crumbling around him. He and Devlin hadn’t been on good terms for years, but Devlin was still his brother, still a fixture in his life. He couldn’t…. Life without Devlin would be…. If he died, Jeremy would lose all chance of reconciliation with his brother.

  “Jeremy?”

  Jeremy turned toward Sam’s voice. Sam took Jeremy’s hand and led him away from the window of Devlin’s room. They found—Sam found, Jeremy was just following where Sam led—a quiet waiting room. The plastic chairs were hardly comfortable, but it was better than standing.

  “Did you talk to the doctor?”

  Jeremy nodded, still trying to put some order to his thoughts.

  “It doesn’t look—” His voice broke before he could finish the sentence. He swallowed hard around the lump in his throat and forced back his tears. Devlin wouldn’t cry if their situations were reversed. He’d probably be glad of one less pillow biter in the world. “It doesn’t look good. He’s alive, but they aren’t sure he’ll stay that way. And even if he does, he won’t be able to run the station again for a while. I don’t even know who’s in charge to let them know what’s going on.”

  “So we’ll call the house and see who answers,” Sam said. “And if no one does, we’ll call Lang Downs and ask Caine to send someone over with the message to call us. We’ll figure out a way to get through this. One step at a time, right?”

  Jeremy nodded again, grateful for Sam’s steady presence. He could do anything as long as he had Sam in his corner. He just had to remember that.

  “Do you want me to call?”

  Jeremy shrugged, incapable of making a decision. All of his mental energy was centered on Devlin’s room, where his brother was fighting for his life. Oh, God….

  “Easy,” Sam said, rubbing his back as he doubled over. “Just breathe. I’ll take care of everything else. You just concentrate on making your lungs work. In and out, nice and easy.”

  Jeremy timed his breaths to the movement of Sam’s hand across his back. Inhale every time Sam stroked to the right, exhale as he stroked to the left. Inhale, exhale, slow and steady, like Sam’s movements. Strong and comforting like Sam’s hand. He grabbed Sam’s other hand where it rested on his knee and clung to it like a lifeline. The panic faded bit by bit until he could sit up, but he didn’t relinquish his grip on Sam’s hand. He wasn’t sure he could keep it together if he did.

  Sam transferred Jeremy’s grip to his other hand. “Keep breathing. I’m going to call Taylor Peak.”

  Jeremy tuned out the conversation and focused on Sam’s hand in his. When he felt steady enough, he rose and headed back toward Devlin’s room. He wouldn’t be allowed inside, but he’d be able to watch the rise and fall of Devlin’s chest and console himself with the knowledge that Devlin was still alive. As long as he kept breathing, they could deal with the rest.

  Sam joined him a few minutes later, but Jeremy didn’t ask whether he’d reached anyone. Sam was nothing if not efficient. If he hadn’t reached anyone at Taylor Peak, he’d called Caine and someone from Lang Downs was now on his way to Taylor Peak to apprise them of the situation or to have them get in touch with Sam.

  “He’ll make it,” Sam said. “He’s too bloody stubborn to die.”

  “I hope you’re right,” Jeremy said. If Devlin died, Taylor Peak would pass to Jeremy, and that was the last thing Jeremy wanted. Once, maybe, but Lang Downs was home now.

  SAM HELD vigil with Jeremy, offering silent support with his presence. He wished he could do more, but they were playing a waiting game now. Wait for Devlin to wake up. Wait for the doctors to perform more tests. Wait to see what the long-term prognosis would be. His heart went out to Jeremy. He couldn’t imagine how he’d feel if Neil was the one in that hospital room, unconscious. The mere thought of it was enough to make him panicky.

  His phone rang, the buzz loud in the silent hall. Sam glanced down at the screen. “It’s Taylor Peak. Do you want to talk to them?” Jeremy shook his head. Sam hadn’t expected any other answer, but he still had to ask. “Would you rather I go elsewhere to talk to them?”

  “No, stay here. They might need me to….” He waved his hand helplessly.

  Sam grabbed Jeremy’s hand and held tight as he answered the phone. He couldn’t do much else, but he could remind Jeremy he wasn’t alone.

  “Hello?”

  “Is this Sam Emery?”

  “It is.”

  “This is Tim Perkins from Taylor Peak. I got a message to call you about the boss.”

  “Thank you for calling me back, Tim. Mr. Taylor is still unconscious, and the doctors say he has bleeding in the brain. They don’t know when or if he’ll recover. Are you the foreman?”

  “Ain’t no foreman on Taylor Peak. Hasn’t been since Williams retired a couple years ago. Taylor runs everything himself.”

  Sam frowned. He knew how much work running a station was. Caine, Macklin, and Neil divided just the outdoor work between them and the other crew bosses, and Sam still worked full-time in the office taking care of the books. If Devlin had tried to do all that himself, it was no wonder he had an accident. “Who’s the senior crew boss, then? Taylor isn’t in any position to give orders right now, and until he is, someone will have to keep things running.”

  “Taylor Peak doesn’t work that way, mate. Everything’s in the boss’s head. The rest of us just do as we’re told.”

  Sam wanted to beat his head against a wall, but doing that wouldn’t help Jeremy or Taylor Peak. He had no idea if Jeremy cared about the station, but for now, Sam would take care of it as best he could. “Who’s been there the longest? I know he didn’t hire an entirely new crew this spring.”

  “Probably Charlie White. I don’t know how long he’s been here, but he was already here when I got here.”

  “Then let me talk to him,” Sam snapped. Someone on the station had to have enough sense to keep things going for a day or two until they had a better idea of what would happen and could get more specific orders from Devlin. He glanced at Jeremy to see how he was taking the conversation, but Jeremy didn’t appear to be paying attention to him at all. He still clung to Sam’s hand, but his attention was focused entirely on Devlin.

  Sam could hear grumbling as Perkins went in search of the other jackaroo, then “Hello?”

  “Do you have enough experience on Taylor Peak and the way Taylor runs things to take charge for a couple of days until we know more about his condition?” he asked bluntly.r />
  “For a few days,” White said. “I’m not going to start rotating the mobs between paddocks or anything big like that, but I can make sure chores are done and the animals cared for.”

  “Good enough,” Sam said. “You’re in charge until we hear more. If you need decisions made that you can’t make by yourself, call me back. I’ll talk to Taylor’s brother, but I don’t want to hear about day-to-day stuff. Just big decisions.”

  “For a few days,” White repeated. “Much beyond a week and it’s decisions I can’t make.”

  Sam rolled his eyes and thanked any listening deity that he’d ended up on Lang Downs where Caine and Macklin respected and nurtured their crew bosses’ intelligence and independence. “Hopefully by then Taylor will be giving orders again, even if it’s from his hospital bed.”

  White hung up, and Sam resisted the urge to throw his phone down the hall. It wouldn’t change anything about the situation on Taylor Peak, but it might make him feel better. It wouldn’t help Jeremy, though, so Sam refrained, slipping his phone back into the case on his belt.

  “How bad is it?” Jeremy asked after a moment.

  “Your brother apparently hasn’t allowed his employees any input in how or when things are done,” Sam said as diplomatically as he could. “The first person I talked to shut down the minute I suggested he should take charge of things for a few days. The second person was willing to take care of day-to-day stuff but nothing more than basic chores and the like. Nothing that would require a decision. You wouldn’t think twice on Lang Downs about rotating a mob between paddocks if they needed it, would you?”

  “I’d run it by Macklin first,” Jeremy said, “but if he was unavailable for some reason, I’d do what needed to be done. Devlin was always tight with control, though. He listened to Williams because he’d been on the station since we were kids, but he never really listened to anyone else. It’s not that much of a stretch to think he wouldn’t hire a new foreman after Williams retired.”

  Sam remembered Williams vaguely from the grassfires four years ago that had brought Thorne to them, but it didn’t go much beyond the impression of a weathered man with a shock of white hair. Sam wouldn’t be able to pick him out of a crowd now. “Is Williams still on the station? Or somewhere nearby? Could we get him to come back and run things until Devlin’s well enough to appoint a new foreman or give the orders himself again?”

  “I don’t know where he went after he retired,” Jeremy said. “We could try to find out, but I don’t know if he’d come back.”

  “I’ll see if I can track him down,” Sam said. “Even if it just buys us a few weeks to get Devlin sorted a bit, it’s better than having to try to run Taylor Peak from here and keep an eye on Devlin too.”

  “Thank you.” Jeremy’s voice cracked as he spoke, and Sam gave up trying to be discreet. Jeremy needed him. He pulled Jeremy into his arms and held on tight, relaying with his body what he couldn’t put into words. Whatever happened—with Devlin, with Taylor Peak, with anything—Sam wouldn’t leave him to face it alone.

  Three

  SETH SAT with Chris and Jesse at dinner out of habit. He didn’t know any of the seasonal jackaroos yet and hadn’t managed to corner Caine and Macklin to ask about staying on, so he didn’t feel like he could go around introducing himself. Catching up with everyone he knew was more important than meeting the new men anyway.

  Patrick joined them when he came in. “Welcome home, son. Carley tells me you’re hoping to stay.”

  “I’m hoping you’ll let me back in the tractor shed,” Seth replied with a grin. “I know a bit more than I did ten years ago.”

  “You knew enough to put more experienced men to shame then,” Patrick retorted. “You’re welcome in the tractor shed anytime.”

  “Tell Caine and Macklin that,” Seth said. “I want to stay.”

  “You know they wouldn’t turn you away. They’ve taken in complete strangers. They’ll always have a place for family.”

  The words warmed Seth all the way through. He hadn’t had many constants in his life besides Chris, but Lang Downs was the one place he could always come back to—for comfort, to lick his wounds, or simply to come home. “I know.”

  Neil climbed over the bench next to Seth with a frown on his face.

  “No news from Sam?” Patrick asked.

  Neil shook his head. “No, and the longer we go with no news, the worse it will be when we hear. They should have made it to Canberra now, so either he’s in surgery or he’s been moved on to Sydney.”

  “If there’s anything we can do….”

  “Same here,” Seth added when Patrick trailed off.

  “Nothing we can do until we hear what’s going on,” Neil said. “Jeremy doesn’t have the authority to ask us to help without Taylor’s consent, assuming he wants to help the no-good—”

  “Don’t finish that sentence, Neil Emery,” Molly, Neil’s wife, said as she sat down across from him. “Dani is around somewhere, and I won’t have her picking up your bad habits.”

  Seth repressed a snicker. Neil was as henpecked as ever, and the worst was when it came to their daughter picking up what Molly considered Neil’s bad habits. It reassured him in an odd way. Nothing ever changed at Lang Downs.

  “Welcome home, Seth,” Molly continued. “I didn’t get a chance to say that earlier. How long are you here for?”

  “For as long as Caine and Macklin will let me stay,” Seth said. “I signed over my lease in Sydney. It was time to come home.”

  “Then welcome home even more. We’ll be glad to have your hands around here.”

  “Just my hands?” Seth teased.

  “Of course not,” Molly said with a laugh. “But your hands will be particularly useful in all Caine’s projects. I think he’s been waiting for you to come home so he could get started.”

  “I’ll talk to him after dinner or in the morning. I’m eager to get started on whatever he has planned.”

  “You should head over to the bunkhouse after dinner and get to know the jackaroos,” Neil said. “Talking to Caine can wait until morning, and depending on what he has you doing, knowing the men will be good.”

  “He’s not going to make me a crew boss, is he?” Seth asked. “I was nineteen when I left. I don’t know enough to be in charge of anything.”

  “We aren’t short on crew bosses,” Neil assured him, “but if he has you putting in windmills or solar panels and running electrical wires, you’re going to need more hands than just your own. Molly wasn’t kidding about his plans. He wants to put a generator in each of the drover’s huts and he’s talked about trying to make the main buildings less dependent on outside power too. And that’s only the beginning.”

  “It sounds like there’s plenty for me to do, then.” He hadn’t let himself worry Caine wouldn’t have any use for his degree. He’d told himself he could always work in the tractor shed maintaining the station’s equipment and be perfectly happy. But what Neil was describing was so much better.

  The canteen door burst open and a crowd of jackaroos tumbled inside, laughing and carrying on. Seth shared a familiar eye roll with the others at his table at the ruckus. “It is Friday night,” Seth said.

  “Then they should have gone to town as soon as they got in tonight,” Neil said. “That’s what we did.”

  “Once or twice a season,” Patrick corrected. “Most weekend nights, you were partying in the bunkhouse just like those boys will be tonight.”

  “As long as all the ones on duty tomorrow can do their jobs,” Neil grumbled.

  “One or two of them might not be happy on horseback in the morning, but other than that, they’ll be fine. They don’t have enough booze in the bunkhouse to get so drunk they can’t work,” Jesse said.

  Chris chortled while Patrick rolled his eyes and Neil covered his ears. Seth relaxed into the easy familiarity of it. Neil was Caine and Macklin’s staunchest supporter and wouldn’t tolerate even a hint of homophobic bullshit from the men under his
command, but the thought of any of them having sex was the fastest way to send him running. Neil had stood up for Chris when the chips were down, though, and that put him at the top of Seth’s list of favorite people.

  The sound of Jason’s laughter caught Seth’s ear. He looked around the canteen and found Jason sitting with the jackaroos who had just come in. That stung a little, but he pushed the hurt aside. They were Jason’s friends too. He didn’t have to drop everything because Seth had come home. One of the jackaroos slung an arm around Jason’s shoulder with what seemed like too much familiarity.

  “Who’s that sitting with Jason?” he asked Jesse before he could think better of it.

  “Cooper Samuels, one of the new seasonal staff,” Jesse said. “He’s mostly been on Kyle’s crew, but he seems like a solid worker. He and Jason have hit it off.”

  It looked like a whole lot more than that from where Seth was sitting, especially when Cooper stood up and trailed his fingers across Jason’s nape as he walked away. Dinner soured in his stomach. “I’m going to bed. I’m still worn out from the trip.”

  “Seth!”

  He ignored Chris calling his name and stalked out of the canteen.

  He wasn’t sure where he was going. It didn’t matter as long as it was far enough from the canteen to escape the vision of another man’s hands on Jason’s body and far enough from the bunkhouse that he wouldn’t have to hear whatever they got up to after dinner. He had no claim on Jason’s affections. They were friends, best friends even, but Jason had never given Seth the slightest hint it might go beyond that.

  Seth had always known his feelings for Jason were hopeless. He’d figured that out when Jason went away to uni without a backward glance. They’d still been kids then, and Seth had tried to chalk his feelings up to youthful infatuation, but that only got him seven years of dating people he didn’t love, most recently Ilene. And if that didn’t sum up the sorry state of his life, he didn’t know what would. Hearing Jason had come home had made him hope again. He should have known better. He didn’t get good things in life. Those were reserved for people like Caine and Macklin. Seth just got the leftovers no one else wanted.