Turn Left at Bindi Creek

by Lynne Wilding

  ‘It’s strictly casual, no serious stuff,’ continued Sharon. ‘I’ll round up enough to make an eightsome.’

  ‘That would be nice, but don’t expect us too soon. It will take a while to get squared away at Bindi Creek,’ Brooke answered as a matter of politeness. She always tried not to judge people on first meetings, but there was something about Sharon Dimarco that she couldn’t quite take to. Maybe she was just too beautiful, or maybe she sensed that the woman wasn’t sincere and was putting on a show—but for whom? Herself or her father?

  ‘Got to go and say hello to Wes and help him with the serving up,’ Sharon said brightly. With a friendly wave she turned away and headed towards the barbecue.

  ‘Sharon takes a bit of getting used to,’ Hugh muttered with the wisdom of a father who loved his child, flaws and all. ‘She’s a touch on the flighty side, but she is beginning to settle down.’

  ‘I thought she was charming and very welcoming.’

  Hugh chuckled as he shook his head. ‘Brooke d’Winters, you’ve missed your calling. You should have been in the diplomatic corps.’ His gaze followed his retreating daughter. ‘She’s been through a few tough years, a nasty divorce, too. I’m hoping that coming back to her roots will give her a new perspective on life.’

  Brooke smiled understandingly. She hoped Hugh was right, but somehow she didn’t think so.

  By the time Brooke had eaten and organised food for the twins, she was very impressed with country hospitality. People couldn’t have been more welcoming, and if she had had any niggling doubts as to whether their impending move was the right one, they rapidly evaporated under the weight of so much local enthusiasm and interest. The president of the Country Women’s League had invited her to attend a meeting once she’d got settled. Barney Rutger, chairman of the Cowra Chamber of Commerce, had promised to help them get settled and to liaise with medical people in the nine-thousand-plus country town they intended to call home. Another woman had told her about child-minding facilities at a private home near Bindi Creek, and others had offered a wealth of information on the area—all information that was good for a doctor’s wife to know. Overwhelmed by everyone’s generosity, when Fleece came by and offered to take the twins off to the large barn behind the house to show them a new litter of kittens, she happily let them go.

  ‘Well, what do you think?’ Jason asked Brooke, having been relieved from barbecue duties by Barney Rutger. They sat at one of the tables and he sipped a stubby Wes had given him.

  ‘The people are wonderful,’ she said with disarming honesty.

  ‘Yeah, they’re the right sort around here. Not like some country towns, where you’re still a stranger after having lived there for twenty years.’

  She leant forward, put her arms around his neck and kissed him. ‘I’m feeling very good about this move. I’m glad we’re doing it.’

  ‘Me too.’ He hugged her to him, then selfconsciously released her when he saw several people watching, even though all of them were smiling at the couple.

  ‘Christine and Paul won’t be happy about you going.’

  ‘I hope they’ll buy me out of the practice, or perhaps I can get a new doctor to buy in. If that happens then, at a pinch, we may not have to take out a loan on the Wilson property. And we’ll keep the semi in Newtown as an investment. If we can do that, then financially we’ll be reasonably okay.’

  Brooke grinned. ‘You really have been thinking, haven’t you?’

  ‘I can’t take all the credit. Wes suggested it while we were talking at the barbecue. It makes sense.’

  She wasn’t sure she liked the fact that he and Wes had been discussing their finances, but it made her see how much Jason trusted his long-time friend. And Jason’s happiness was so transparent that Brooke rejoiced in it.

  The week away and the imminent move back to the country had worked wonders for Jason. He looked a different man: relaxed and carefree. He hadn’t looked that way for quite some time. She tried to remember what Fleece had said about them at the Japanese Gardens: You have a cool life. Jason loves you. The twins are adorable. You’re obviously happy. A smile hovered about her lips. Fleece was right. She was.

  ‘Where are the terrors?’ Jason asked, noticing how peaceful it was where they sat, and unable to see the twins anywhere.

  ‘Fleece was going to show them some baby kittens in the barn.’ She frowned. ‘They’ve been gone a while, I’d better see what they’re up to.’

  ‘Don’t let them talk you into taking one of those kittens. We’ll get the boys other animals when we move, but no cats, I can’t stand them.’

  ‘Okay,’ she promised.

  She made her way across the patio, through the thinning crowd, and as she did she noticed how Sharon Dimarco hovered close to Wes Sinclair, not always talking to him but making sure that she was in his line of vision. They would make a nice-looking couple, she thought. Was a budding romance in progress, she wondered. That wouldn’t be a bad thing, and perhaps it was what Wes needed to take the bitterness out of him.

  She walked past the swimming pool and the tennis court towards the burgundy-painted barn, which stood at least two storeys high. A few of the older children were playing on the flying fox which Albie, one of the stockmen, had rigged from the first-floor barn door and which dropped at an angle into a pile of hay.

  She went inside the barn, squinted as her eyes adjusted to the dim light, and in one of the stalls found Fleece, Drew and Adam, petting the small kittens while the mother cat eyed the children cautiously.

  ‘Look, Mum, isn’t she beautiful?’ Adam held up one of the kittens to his mother.

  ‘Yes, love, but don’t even ask. No kittens in the d’Winters household. Daddy’s rule.’ She looked about for Luke. ‘Where’s your brother?’

  ‘Dunno,’ Adam replied casually. ‘One of the kittens scratched him so he went outside.’

  ‘Oh.’ Outside! She had just come in from outside and hadn’t seen him. A sense of unease swept through her. Usually Adam and Luke were inseparable; they had a closeness few siblings experienced but which was not uncommon between identical twins. However, she guessed that the excitement of being with the older children, and playing with the kittens, had allowed Adam to forget about his younger brother. Trying to contain her anxiety, she decided on a more thorough examination of the area outside the barn.

  Walking around one side, past a tractor and another unrecognisable piece of farm machinery, Brooke found a fenced-off area at the back of the barn.

  At first she only saw the cow. It was one of the largest cows she had ever seen, and its udders were full. On a pile of straw, with its legs tucked under it, lay a recently born calf. Its dark, liquid eyes were huge and wondering as it stared at its new world. What a beautiful tableau, she thought fleetingly. But then the mother cow lowed in a stressed manner and lowered its huge head, with its large, very pointed horns, aggressively. Brooke frowned. Why was it cranky? Because of her?

  Then she saw him. Luke stood inside the fence, close to the back wall of the barn and near the calf, which he had obviously climbed in to see. He was crying quietly, and she could tell by his stiff stance that he was rooted to the spot with fear. Her gaze flashed back to the cow. Oh, God! Did the cow believe that Luke was a threat to her new baby? The cow’s head dropped a few more centimetres and moved to an angle where it could see Luke better. One of its front hoofs pawed the soil, sending up a small cloud of dust.

  Oh, God, the cow was going to charge her son!

  ‘Luke!’ she screamed. ‘Don’t move, darling.’

  CHAPTER NINE

  There was no time to think, no time to plan what to do, to get help. Brooke’s hands grasped the top rail. Her heart had started beating at twice its normal rate, her mouth was dry with an all-consuming fear. Her child’s life was in danger.

  She began to climb through the gap in the rails. The next instant a pair of arms slipped around her waist and pulled her back.

  ‘No, you don’t,’ a gruff voi
ce whispered close to her ear. ‘Old Biddy’s a touch cross. She had a difficult time giving birth to that calf. If you rush in you could spook her and she might charge you and the boy.’

  Brooke struggled out of Wes Sinclair’s grasp and, hands on hips, eyed him aggressively. ‘What do you expect me to do, just let it happen?’ she spat angrily at him.

  ‘Easy, Brooke. I’ll take care of it.’

  Incensed by his authoritative manner, yet at the same time relieved that he might be able to turn the situation around, she watched him bend and climb between the rails.

  He approached the large cow with an easy gait. ‘Come on, Biddy, old girl. No-one’s going to hurt your baby,’ he said, his voice calm and sure. ‘Come on now, back away,’ and he went up to the cow and began to push her towards the railings of the corral.

  The cow made a lowing sound as if mightily aggrieved but, after a moment’s hesitation, she began to saunter off while Wes continued to pat and prod her away from Luke.

  ‘Luke, boy, it’s okay now. Biddy isn’t going to hurt you,’ Wes said confidently. ‘Walk towards your mum, slowly now. Off you go.’

  After a few uncertain seconds the young boy gathered his courage and, his gaze fixed fast on the cow, edged away from the calf and towards his mother.

  Her heart still pounding with fright, Brooke said to Wes, ‘Thank you.’ She saw him give a casual shrug in acknowledgment of her gratitude.

  Within seconds Luke was in his mother’s arms, trying manfully to stop crying. Brooke held him tight. She could feel his heartbeat thudding against her chest. She stroked his hair gently, finger-combing it off his sweaty forehead. ‘It’s all right, love, you’re safe now.’

  ‘Just w– wanted to pat the calf, Mummy. The kitten scratched me. See,’ and he held up his hand to show her two diagonal scratch marks on the back of it.

  ‘Well, kittens do that, you know. I’m sure it didn’t mean to hurt you. You shouldn’t have gone into that corral. It was a dangerous, silly thing to do. Mother animals are very protective of their young.’

  He sniffed back a tear. ‘I…I know, Mummy. I won’t do it again. Ever.’

  Adam rushed out of the barn at full pelt with an anxious look on his face. ‘Where’s Lukey? What happened?’

  ‘Luke’s all right. He just had a bit of a fright,’ she told Adam.

  ‘Jason said the twins were with Fleece. Wasn’t she supposed to be looking after them?’ Wes asked, his tone clipped. He didn’t wait for her answer; he already knew it. He bellowed, ‘Fleece, come out here!’

  ‘There’s no need to make a fuss, Wes. Luke’s okay,’ she said, and smiled down at her son. ‘And he’s learned a valuable lesson.’

  ‘That’s not the point.’ Wes’s tone was cool, his features set in a mask of disapproval. ‘Fleece has to learn to be responsible. She said she would look after the twins and she didn’t. It’s as simple as that.’

  ‘Something wrong, Dad?’

  ‘We’ve just averted a possible accident due to your tardiness,’ Wes said straight out. ‘Luke was almost charged by Biddy. You were supposed to be looking after him, weren’t you?’

  Seeing the startled, then guilty look on Fleece’s face, Brooke began, ‘Wes, I don’t think…’

  He glared at her to be silent. ‘Fleece has to understand that when you say you’re going to do something, you do it.’ His tone was as stern as his expression. ‘Well,’ he looked at his daughter, ‘what do you have to say for yourself?’

  ‘I didn’t know where he’d gone, he was only missing for a couple of minutes.’

  Wes’s expression became more serious. ‘A couple of minutes is all it takes for a youngster this age to get in trouble. You should have known that.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Dad. I guess I got carried away showing the kittens off. I didn’t notice when Luke slipped away.’ Fleece’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment at being hauled over the coals by her father, and in front of several people who had gathered around the corral.

  ‘Sorry isn’t good enough, Fleece. We’ll discuss a suitable reprimand later. Till then you can go to your room.’

  Her chin tilted stubbornly. ‘But…’ she began to protest, evidently not overly afraid of his ire.

  ‘No buts. Go!’

  With a departing glare at her father, Fleece turned on her heel and, her back ramrod straight with anger and mortification, began to walk towards the house.

  ‘Fleece is in big trouble,’ Adam whispered to his brother, which made the younger twin begin to sniffle again.

  ‘Sshh, boys.’ Brooke’s tone was sharp with annoyance, but not with them—with Wes Sinclair. But, the man was right, she thought with some chagrin, Fleece should have looked after both boys properly, and the emergency had been averted only because of Wes’s timely intervention. But did he have to embarrass the girl in front of her friends and neighbours? She’d said sorry; wasn’t that good enough? She already knew that Fleece was clever, and it was equally clear that she longed for her father’s approval, so surely the matter could have been handled more diplomatically? The thought came to her then that Sindalee’s plain-speaking owner was not very cluey about child psychology.

  Wes watched the tableau of Brooke hugging Adam and Luke. She looked annoyed—with him. Not a student of body language, Wes tended to take people as he found them, but the tightness about her mouth, the stiffness of her shoulders, told him she believed he could have handled the situation better. Maybe he could have.

  He turned away and dug his hands into the pockets of his moleskins. Women! What did they know about rearing two kids without a mother’s steadying hand and love? Bloody nothing. Fleece was becoming a handful—he got reminders of that practically every day. Her personality was strong, like that of her mother, and she constantly tested his patience and understanding to the limit. But she could also be loving and gentle and very protective, especially towards Drew, and these, as far as he was concerned, were huge points in her favour. That she still carried massive resentment towards Claudia and fought every suggestion her mother made, whether reasonable or unreasonable, was obvious. Right now she was resisting the idea of going to Brisbane to attend Claudia’s wedding to barrister Ken Dougherty, and Wes was presently at a loss to know how to convince her to go without having to physically put her on the plane—or worse, escort both of them up north.

  His mouth set in a firm line as he ruminated. It was fine for others to judge his actions, but did anyone who hadn’t experienced it for themselves appreciate the difficulties in trying to be father and mother to Fleece and Drew? He bet they didn’t, not even Brooke d’Winters, for all her warmth and mothering ways. Well, for sure he wasn’t going to whinge about how hard it was to any of them. They could disapprove all they liked, ’cause as far as he was concerned he was doing the best damned job he could do.

  It took four and a half months for the d’Winters to settle business arrangements, rejuvenate Wilson’s cottage to their liking and, two weeks after the twins’ fourth birthday, make the move to Bindi Creek.

  The cottage had been painted inside and out, the carpet pulled up and the jarrah floorboards polished. Brooke had opted for a new country-style kitchen, and the bathroom had been tarted up with the intention of being properly renovated later on. The northern-side verandah, exposed to the morning sun, had been extended and closed in to make a waiting room, and the bedroom next to it had been converted into a surgery with built-in bookshelves, an examination table and other surgical equipment.

  However, there still remained a lot to do around the property. The backyard and front garden were jungles, so for the time being, until they could work on them, Jason mowed everything flat—grass, weeds and flowers—just to make it look tidy. Brooke had protested at ivy geraniums, daisies, begonias and other plants ruthlessly being lopped until Jason pointed out that it was best because of snakes and spiders, which could be prevalent through to the start of winter. Thinking of the twins’ safety, she had not said another word.

  Movin
g in with the twins’ ‘help’ took most of the day. Neither Brooke nor Jason had enough energy at the end of the day to cook a meal, so Brooke suggested dinner at the Imperial Hotel’s dining room. After roast lamb and vegetables, followed by stewed peaches and ice-cream, and casual conversations with a few of the locals they knew, they strolled back to the cottage at twilight, and put Adam and Luke to bed.

  Sitting in the lounge room, boxes still piled up around them, Jason took off his boots and stretched his legs out in front of him. ‘Let’s decide to stay here forever,’ he said with feeling. ‘Moving is hell.’

  Brooke yawned and stretched too. ‘I agree.’ She looked about the large room, with its timber mantlepiece, French doors which opened onto the verandah, and up to the high, three-metre ceiling, imagining new pieces of furniture to fill out and display the room to its best advantage. ‘You really plan to start surgery Monday morning?’

  ‘Yes. We’ve sent introductory letters to four hundred or so people around the area telling them we will, and the local paper has done a piece on us settling here. The sooner patients start coming to the surgery, the better.’

  ‘Then tomorrow we’d better get the surgery equipment in order.’ She frowned, remembering something. ‘The waiting room, we haven’t got the furniture for it yet.’

  ‘People won’t mind if we use what’s in the kitchen until the furniture and office equipment arrive. That should happen early next week.’ He ran a hand through his mussed-up hair, making it worse, then rubbed his eyes tiredly and scratched the dark line of stubble on his chin.

  Brooke, curled up in the other lounge chair, took in his broad chest with its holey T-shirt, the cut-off jeans which clung to his muscled thighs and hairy legs, and thought he looked quite boyishly adorable—a giant-sized version of the twins. She walked over to his chair, climbed onto his lap then stretched her arms about his neck. Her lips hovered close to his for a tantalising few seconds before kissing him in such a way as to let her intentions be known.