Barra Creek

by Di Morrissey

  He took her hand. ‘Come and say goodnight to Jasper,’ and began to lead her away from the house.

  ‘Who’s Jasper?’ she whispered.

  ‘The stallion. He’s the colour of jasper. That’s what I call him anyway.’

  ‘But he’s still pretty wild, won’t he get upset?’

  ‘I don’t intrude. He knows me now. I just stand and let him know I’m there, speak softly to him. I go every night.’

  They stood in the pale moonlight watching the horse standing almost motionless in the yard. His head was inclined to the side, ears twitching, his tail flicking. He watched Rob approach the fence.

  Rob hung over the rails and called softly. ‘Just checking on you, mate. Hope the corroboree didn’t scare you. I brought a friend. She thinks you’re a pretty handsome fellow. I told her you’re going to be one heck of a smart horse when we’ve finished training you. Isn’t that right?’

  Sally smiled at Rob’s crooning, soothing voice, like a father talking a child to sleep. The stallion took a few tentative steps forward then stopped, nostrils flaring, head erect.

  ‘He smells you, something different. He’s wary.’

  Sally picked up Rob’s calm, gentle tone. ‘I just wanted to see you were okay too. I suppose you miss your herd. But they might join you some time.’

  The horse listened but would come no closer. They watched him for a few more minutes then Rob took Sally’s hand. He led her into the shed next to the stable and flicked on his lighter.

  ‘Careful, this place is full of hay,’ said Sally.

  ‘It’s okay.’ He lit a small kerosene lantern that hung on a wire from a door. In the small circle of yellow light Sally watched as he pulled down a couple of clean horse blankets and lay them over a pile of loose straw. ‘It’s not wildly comfortable and not very romantic but . . .’ He held out his arms with a shy half smile. Sally willingly surrendered to his embrace and, giggling quietly, they settled onto the makeshift bed.

  It was hard to leave. Sally wanted to sleep in Rob’s arms, despite the occasional prick of hay, but they knew they’d better go. He kissed her quickly and silently under the willow tree and waited till she was tiptoeing along the verandah before turning and heading to the room he sometimes used at the end of the single men’s quarters. No one stirred.

  Sally lay on top of her bed feeling flushed with sensations of love and being loved. The physical pleasure they’d shared had been exhilarating, but she’d seen another side to Rob in their whispers and knew how he had been creeping under her skin for many weeks leading to this moment. For the rest of her life, the smell of straw always brought back memories of this sensuous warm night with him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  SALLY AND LORNA SIPPED their afternoon tea on the verandah. As usual at this time of day the banks of clouds rolled across the sky, seeming to suck the air up into them and leaving everyone on the ground panting, tired and ill tempered. The weather had made it an exhausting couple of weeks, but Sally didn’t like to complain. She could only imagine how uncomfortable Lorna must feel so far into her pregnancy. Just when Sally felt as if she was going to expire with the oppressive weather, a great storm would roll in. A dry storm. Dust would rise from the ground and fall from above, covering everything in a heavy red layer.

  It blew straight through the flyscreens into the house, falling onto the beds, seeping into chairs and lounges, covering every surface. Sally had the taste of dust in her mouth from the moment she woke up in the morning, even her hair was coated. She hated it.

  Then after three weeks of this, lightning started flashing along the horizon. At night Rob had pointed out the glow of fires – spinifex and dry grass hit by lightning and bursting into flame. They had word on the wireless of a fire on a property boundary to the east running on a sixty-mile front, driven by the strong winds.

  ‘The Wet will come, and then you’ll be sick of it,’ sighed Lorna.

  Rob sat on the rough fence rail and watched Sally slowly and calmly approach Jasper, keeping eye contact. The stallion had adjusted to his new life, if not to the loss of his herd. But he no longer had to fight for dominance, and he had water and feed and shelter. He had come to trust the tall quiet man with the gentle voice.

  The horse watched Sally, smelled her, and felt no fear. She was trying to remember all Rob had told her, his ‘unteaching’ of her traditional British dressage and hunt riding techniques.

  Once mounted with the leathers shortened a little so she had the power to swing straight into the saddle, she pushed her feet right into the heel of each boot. Sit well forward, lean slightly back, keep straight without any weight in the stirrups unless she needed to pull on the horse’s head. No squeezing with the knees. Shoulders back to find the point of balance where she felt secure and in control. She rode Jasper around the yard for a few minutes before Rob agreed to open the gate.

  ‘Ride him loose, Sal. You have to be able to change reins from left to right quickly or bring them back to two for shortening and steering. Shift your weight from side to side to change direction. Put the weight in the iron on the side you want him to turn. Use your hands, feet and your voice.’

  Sally had been intrigued watching Rob break in the wild stallion in a series of short lessons with pauses in between, so Jasper could ‘think about it’. After all the handling and frequent blindfolding, Jasper had become so accustomed to Rob that he offered no resistance when Rob first rode him. Now Jasper had become a smart, well-mannered horse and Rob intended to keep him that way and not let him learn any bad habits.

  Sally trotted Jasper down to the smallest home paddock, executed a figure eight, stopped, walked him backwards, then moved forward again. Only on the last leg back to the yards did she allow the horse to canter, an easy powerful gait, when her position in the saddle felt exactly right. She’d become used to Rob’s American-style saddle and rarely used her own from New Zealand. She knew her father would be appalled to see her riding like this, like a cowboy, he’d say.

  Rob gave her a big thumbs up as she brought the horse into the yard and dismounted.

  ‘He’s a magnificent horse, Rob. Too good to be chasing cattle.’

  ‘He’ll make a good stockhorse, he’s so strong. I’m going to ask Monroe if I can buy Jasper. This horse and I will work well together.’

  ‘Where will you take him?’

  He didn’t answer for a minute. ‘Well, eventually I want to have my own place. Maybe Dad will split up the station between my brothers and me. Whatever happens, I want to start a horse breeding program. Good stockhorses, like good working dogs, are worth a lot of money.’ He squeezed Sally’s arm. ‘I’m glad you like horses. They’re better than sheep. Sheep are silly animals.’

  ‘Well, I grew up on a sheep farm so I’m not about to argue with that,’ she said, laughing.

  ‘Yeah, I hear New Zealand has six million sheep and two million people. You’d better not tell Ian you’ve ridden Jasper. He’s after me to let him have a go, but I want to hold him back a bit.’

  ‘The boys are talking a lot about leaving for school next year. It will be the first time they’ve been separated,’ said Sally as they turned back towards the homestead. They walked closely, their arms touching as they carried the gear.

  ‘What do you reckon will happen to them? To Barra Creek?’

  Sally stared at him. ‘It will go on, Ian will see to that. And Tommy, I s’pose. Monroe is not one to retire to a unit on the Gold Coast. Though I bet Lorna would like to go to the city more often.’

  ‘Yeah, she’ll be able to enjoy time away from here before the baby comes.’ He glanced at the sky. ‘She’d better leave soon though. The clouds are building, I think it’s going to be a pretty decent wet season.’

  In a lull between dust storms, Lorna, despite the weight of the baby and her swollen ankles, embarked on a frenzy of cleaning. Lizzie and the women were stirred into action to hose and scrub the verandah and inside cement floors even more vigorously than usual. The seagrass
mats were taken outside to be beaten clean, the curtains and cushions washed, every surface was wiped and polished. The clothes cupboards were emptied and everything was aired before they were re-stacked. The baby’s cot was freshly painted; the flyscreen over the top of it was replaced so no insect or creepy crawly could get in. The kitchen and pantry were wiped over with antiseptic and rusty tins of food were tossed out.

  The chicken and goat pens were cleaned, and Fitzi was charged with replanting and tidying the garden. The outside walls were washed down as mildew was creeping up them, the rambling vines climbing over the pergola and verandah were trimmed back.

  John Monroe kept out of the way. ‘Happens every time. Next thing she’ll be dusting the bloody fences.’

  Sally and the boys washed, swept, dusted and tidied the schoolhouse. Rob was instructed to get the stockmen to tidy up the stables and sheds.

  Lorna was an efficient tornado, immaculately dressed in her maternity smock and stretch maternity slacks ordered from the mail-order catalogue, her hair smoothly held back in a French roll as she directed proceedings, making the lubras re-do jobs until they were perfect, as well as doing things herself.

  Then everything came to a halt. Lorna sat on the verandah and rarely spoke. Meals were mostly silent. The women retreated to their gundies and campfires. The paddocks, stables, yards and sheds were prepared for the expected deluge. A lethargy settled over the station. The air was moist, oppressive and faintly threatening. The men from the blacks’ camp took off on a last walkabout for the season, leaving the women to argue amongst themselves.

  It was a hot, red evening. Sally sat with Lorna and Rob, sipping cool drinks in the living room when John came in freshly washed and dressed, waving his glass of rum. ‘Come see, Sally. It’s on the way.’

  ‘What is? Not rain surely? You’ve been promising that for weeks.’

  ‘Come and see.’

  Sally followed him onto the verandah and caught her breath at the amazing sunset spread across the sky. Against the burning colours stretched exquisite banks of high nimbus clouds, tinged with pale pink and lavender, and behind them in the darker indigo patches of sky, forks of lightning dazzled.

  ‘Bloody marvellous, isn’t it? I love this country. I know it’s probably tough on softies like you and Lorna but, by golly, I couldn’t live anywhere else.’ John seemed to be speaking to himself.

  The lightning and distant thunder rumbled through dinner.

  The boys were reading in bed and Sally washed her face and diligently applied face cream. As she left the bathroom Lorna called to her. ‘Sally, can I see you for a moment?’

  She went into Lorna’s bedroom. It was her private space where Sally rarely ventured, even though it was only separated with a thin partition from the rest of the house.

  Lorna was sitting on the edge of the big double bed. She pointed to a small suitcase. ‘I’ve packed my port. I just wanted to talk to you about a few things.’

  ‘Of course, Lorna.’ Sally stood there wondering if she should sit in the cane chair beside the cot. Lorna’s hands were folded over her belly. ‘Are you nervous?’ she asked. ‘It seems strange to think you’ll be coming back here with a new person.’

  ‘I like being pregnant,’ admitted Lorna. ‘I like being left alone. Though this has been a difficult pregnancy, which is why I’m going so early. And because of the Wet.’

  ‘Don’t worry, everything will be fine. The boys and I will keep our heads down. They have an exam coming up. I think they’re anxious about going away to school, too.’

  ‘I want you to keep them away from the river, the blacks’ camp, the single men’s quarters. They are not to go anywhere without you.’

  ‘I understand.’

  Lorna looked down at her hands. ‘John will drink too much. Just keep the boys away from him when he’s had a skinful. I know what he’s like but it upsets Tommy and he fights with Ian.’

  ‘Lorna, don’t worry. And Rob will be around.’

  ‘Umm.’ She didn’t answer.

  ‘Aren’t you happy, looking forward to bringing the baby home?’ asked Sally, trying to change the conversation.

  ‘I just pray the baby is healthy.’ She gave a small smile. ‘I’m glad you’re here, Sally. You’ve been really wonderful. I hope we’ll always remain friends. The saddest part of all this is that you’ll be leaving us in a couple of months.’

  It hit Sally how things were changing. Barra Creek had become such a part of her life that it seemed incredible that soon she wouldn’t be here. What would she do with herself? Much as she wanted to see her family, New Zealand seemed so far away. Sean was a distant, indistinct memory. She’d go home for a visit, she decided, then return to Barra Creek. Or, perhaps join Rob if he had followed his dream and started his own place. She had found what she’d been looking for when she’d turned her back on the trip to England. There was no way she could settle into her former life at home. She was in her twenties, surely this was a time to live life to the full.

  ‘I’ll be back, I’m sure. I have to go home anyway. My sister is getting married and I’m to be chief bridesmaid.’

  ‘Is he an approved fiancé?’

  ‘She’s marrying Lachlan, my father’s Head Cadet. He’s the strong, silent type. Not my cup of tea.’ Seeing Lorna’s slightly raised eyebrow, she went on to explain, ‘Only quality boys are selected for cadetships to train in running a sheep station. Quite a high position, different from a musterer on an Australian station. The head cadets are boys from good homes, good schools. He’ll do well, Yvonne’s life is mapped out.’

  ‘Sally, I think you should take that trip to England, meet people more suited to your background. You can do much better than a fellow like Rob,’ said Lorna earnestly.

  Sally looked away, surprised that Lorna recognised the seriousness of their relationship. ‘I’m not making any plans. But to be fair to Rob, he comes from a good family and we both love horses.’

  ‘Don’t bury yourself in the outback. It’s hard work and lonely. There’s a lot of things you don’t know about. Trust me. I wouldn’t want to see you throw your life away. It takes a special kind of woman to feel at peace in a place like this.’ She turned her head and Sally got the feeling she’d said more than she intended. ‘I just wanted to be sure you understand the responsibility you have while I’m away. Goodnight.’

  ‘Night, Lorna.’

  Ian was almost asleep, Tommy’s bed was empty.

  ‘Where’s Tommy?’ asked Sally.

  ‘Gone to get a book. He said he was going to raid Dad’s library.’

  ‘I’d better go get him.’

  She found Tommy standing on a chair looking at the books on the top two shelves above Monroe’s desk.

  ‘What are you up to? If your old man catches you there’ll be trouble,’ hissed Sally.

  ‘I wanted something to read. How come he tells us not to touch these? You and Mum are always telling us to read.’

  ‘People have private things they don’t think young boys should see.’

  ‘You mean like these?’ Tommy pulled down some thick notebooks.

  Sally recognised Monroe’s writing on the front. ‘They look like diaries. Leave them. Is there anything you want to read?’

  ‘There are all these old books, I’ll just take one.’ He pulled out a book and climbed down from the chair. ‘Look at this – Secrets of the Pyramids – I’m going there one day.’

  ‘Fine. But go and read about ancient Egypt in your bed for now. And ask me if you want a book in future.’

  As Tommy settled for the night Sally met Rob at their favourite rendezvous spot at the stables. They went for a quiet walk and Sally was tempted to tell him what Lorna had said, but couldn’t think how to do it without hurting his feelings. He sensed something was bothering her.

  ‘What’s up? Troubles in the big house?’

  ‘Lorna is worried about going away for so long, leaving the boys, knowing John will probably play up. She says she’s going to m
iss me when I go home.’

  Rob gripped her arm. ‘She’s not the only one.’

  Sally stopped and turned to face him and blurted, ‘Will I see you again, Rob?’

  ‘God, Sally, that’s a hard hit.’ He took her hand and tenderly stroked her fingers. ‘I’ve been trying to ignore the whole thing. My mother says I stick my head in the sand when I have to deal with something hard. Now, hearing you say that, well, I can’t imagine not having you around. I’ve stayed here longer than I usually do. I should have gone back out mustering by now.’

  ‘Yeah, John made that point. He said I was exerting too much influence.’ Sally gave a slight smile.

  ‘But I don’t expect you’d want to stay on here just for me.’

  ‘My time here will soon be up – the boys are off to school. Lorna says I should go to England after my sister’s wedding.’

  ‘Is that what you want?’

  Sally looked away. ‘I don’t know what I want.’

  Rob wrapped her in his arms. ‘Sally, I can’t offer you anything at the moment. I have dreams, vague plans. If you could give me a bit of time.’

  ‘Like when I come back from England perhaps . . .’

  ‘Exactly. Would you wait for me a bit?’ He bent down and kissed her long and hard.

  Sally’s fears and the insecurities and doubts that Lorna had planted melted. He was a good man, they had so much in common, there was huge physical attraction between them, and Rob had big plans.

  ‘I have big dreams too,’ she said. ‘Maybe together we can make something happen. I want to be around horses, not working in a city office.’

  ‘Then can we leave it at that – for the moment? You go back to New Zealand, take that overseas trip and then we’ll meet. Or I’ll come over there to meet your family. We’ll see if I get the stamp of approval.’

  ‘It doesn’t matter if you don’t,’ said Sally. ‘Though I bet my mother will fall for you.’

  Rob was relieved. ‘We’ll just keep it between us then. Until we can make it something formal. But in the meantime . . .’ He brushed his lips across her ear, murmuring sweet and sexy suggestions, and they turned back towards what Sally thought of as their love nest in the stables.