Hope's Road

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Hope's Road Page 23

by Margareta Osborn


  Tammy couldn’t help but laugh. ‘You do that.’ She went to walk out onto the back verandah to find her boots, but then she paused and popped her head back into the kitchen. ‘Luce?’

  ‘Damn it, girl. You’ve gotta go milk those cows. You’ll miss the tanker.’

  ‘Thanks. Thanks for being there for me. Again.’

  Lucy Granger glanced over her shoulder as she carried the plates to the dishwasher, and winked. ‘No worries. Where else would I get my drama-queen fix, if it wasn’t through you?’

  Chapter 35

  The milk tanker roared out the drive as Travis Hunter wheeled in.

  ‘Ms McCauley.’ He doffed his hat like they did in the old days. The gentleman was back again.

  ‘Trav.’ Geez, the man looked good. He’d obviously just had a shower as his hair was still damp and curling softly at the nape of his neck. It made him look vulnerable somehow.

  ‘How’d you go this morning? Any sign of the dog?’ asked Tammy. If he was taking the time to stake out her paddocks in the hopes of killing the mutt that was attacking her calves, she needed to show interest even after yesterday’s news.

  ‘Nope. Not a thing. I’ll keep watch though every other day for a week or so. See if he comes back. Sometimes they take more stock right away, other times they wait awhile. No rhyme nor reason to it all.’

  Tammy nodded, which in turn hurt her head something fierce.

  Trav got out of the ute and changed tack. ‘Me and Billy are off to town now to catch up with the audiologist. The lady comes to the hospital once a fortnight and they managed to squeeze us in.’

  For the first time Tammy noticed Billy in the passenger seat, also dressed in what looked like his best clothes – a pair of clean blue jeans, a chequered shirt, sleeves folded precisely to the elbow. A miniature version of his dad except for the red hair. He didn’t look vulnerable, just pale and anxious.

  Tammy leaned into the cab, making sure she kept her dark sunglasses on. She didn’t want to scare the kid. ‘Hi, Billy. How’s it going, mate?’

  A small voice answered, ‘Orright. I think.’

  ‘Going to have your ears tested?’

  ‘Yep.’

  ‘You okay about that?’

  ‘Yeah, I guess . . .’

  ‘It’ll be fine, mate. No worse than me yelling at you to open the gates when we feed out hay.’

  ‘I’d prefer to be doing that. Feeding out the hay, I mean.’ The little boy ducked his head, but not before Tammy had seen a pair of glassy eyes.

  Tammy tried to lighten the mood. ‘So, after your appointment, have you organised to do something special in town?’

  Billy shook his head. He was biting his bottom lip now.

  Tammy turned to Trav, who was listening intently but not saying a word. ‘C’mon, Dad, you have to do something special after our little mate here has been so brave and got his hearing checked.’

  ‘Like what?’

  Tammy wondered if she looked as exasperated as she felt. She forced a smile for Billy’s sake. ‘Oh, I don’t know. Something fun. Maybe go to McDonald’s for lunch?’

  Billy appeared eager. Trav screwed up his nose.

  ‘A play at the park?’

  Trav seemed interested. Billy frowned.

  ‘A swim in the heated pool?’

  Both father and son looked horrified.

  Tammy mentally threw her hands in the air. ‘Well, surely between the two of you you can think of something!’

  Father and son glanced at each other. Something seemed to click. ‘The saddle-shop?’ suggested Trav.

  Billy nodded and suddenly a wide smile lit up his face. Trav responded with a half-grin of his own and Tammy felt her legs melt away from beneath her. Goddamn it, the man was sex on legs. Get a grip on yourself, McCauley. She dragged her attention back to Billy. ‘What’s so good about the saddle-shop?’

  ‘A stockwhip. One of my very own. I’ve been saving my money.’

  ‘Of course. What every boy your age should have. But don’t come cracking that thing around my girls,’ said Tammy, winking at the child to take the edge off her words. ‘Or I’ll have to whip you back.’

  ‘I won’t. I promise. But old Joe has promised to teach me how to crack a whip. Like a real pro-fession-al, he said.’

  ‘He’d know how to do it, too, I’ll bet,’ said Tammy, with wry twist to her words. ‘He’s a real expert at anything like that.’ Along with fishing, and shooting – especially ducks. And hares. ‘You have a good time then. I’d better let you head off.’ She made to move away from the ute but Trav grabbed her around the waist. Tammy felt the warmth of his fingers through her shirt. Then the feel of his thumb as it caressed her skin through a hole in the cotton. Shivers thrummed through her body, right down to her very toes. She looked up at the man. ‘Yes?’ she breathed. It came out sounding like a wheeze. She cleared her throat. Had another go. ‘Yes, Trav?’

  ‘We wondered if you’d come with us?’ Trav hesitated, then, seeming to realise he had hold of her, let her go. The loss of warmth was staggering. He stood back and formally said, ‘Billy and I would be most obliged if you’d come to town with us and . . . argh . . . ummm . . . help us choose a whip . . .’ The last words came out in one almighty gush, ‘. . . and come to the hearing test.’

  Tammy pointed down to her cow-yard clothes. ‘But –’

  ‘Please Tammy? Pretty, pretty please? I’ll wash down the yard tonight for free,’ said Billy. ‘We’d really like you to come. Wouldn’t we, Dad? Please say yes.’

  ‘We’ll wait while you change. We’ve got time. Don’t have to be there until eleven-thirty.’

  Tammy considered them. Billy’s face was still stuck in a comically pleading pose. Trav’s face was now impassive but his fingers gave his agitation away. He’d grabbed hold of her hand and was almost unconsciously drawing her towards the ute.

  She flung her free arm towards the house, where Lucy’s car was evident. ‘Luce is here. She stayed the night.’ Some of it, anyway. ‘I can’t leave her; that’d be rude.’

  But just then, Lucy appeared out the back door, heading towards her car, still wearing her Betty Boop PJs.

  Trav gaped. Even from this far away the scarlet pyjamas were something to behold. Especially when topped with yellow and pink hair.

  ‘She wear those all the time?’ asked Trav.

  ‘Ummm . . . yes. That’s why I wear dark glasses.’ Liar, McCauley.

  ‘I can understand that,’ said Trav as Lucy Granger poured herself into her little white car and moved off.

  ‘Watch out, here she comes. You might need some sunnies yourself,’ said Tammy with a wry smile. So much for Lucy’s beauty sleep. She wondered what had happened.

  ‘Hey, Hunter.’ Lucy pulled up beside the ute. ‘And how’s my buddy-boy Billy?’

  Tammy watched as Billy hid a wince. ‘I’m good thank you, Mrs Granger.’

  ‘Mizz Granger to you, kiddo. Or Lucy. Or Luce. Or maybe Betty? Have you met Betty Boop?’ She pointed to her top.

  Tammy thought she’d better save the child. ‘What happened to sleeping in?’

  ‘Oh that danged phone of yours rang and rang and rang. I had to get out of bed and tripped over the tissue box and then had to find the phone, which someone had managed to hide under the bed. It must have slipped off after you rang me in your drunken stupor –’ Lucy clapped her hand over her mouth. ‘Oops! I wasn’t supposed to say that, was I? Did you hear me say anything, Billy?’ She looked hard at the boy. ‘No of course you didn’t. We won’t say anything about Tammy swallowing a whole bottle of wine by herself, and then ringing me in the middle of the night, all maudlin-like, shall we?’

  Tammy could feel Trav’s eyes burning holes in her skull but she wasn’t going to glance at him. No, all her dirty looks were focused on her best friend. Her very nearly ex-best friend.
>
  ‘Goodbye, Lucy.’

  ‘Goodbye, Tammy. Oh, and by the way, your bed is so comfortable. Betty and I had a lovely catnap before that Alice woman from the gallery rang.’

  ‘Alice rang again?’

  ‘Yep, said to tell you the gallery opening starts at six o’clock on Friday. She sounds very nice and invited me too. I said I’d let you know and I’d make sure you told all your mates, who you obviously hadn’t told.’

  ‘She only rang yesterday morning, and I’ve been a bit busy since then, as you well know!’

  ‘Yes, yes, yes. No worries. Anyhow, I’ll tell Dean and Jacinta and anyone else I can think of.’

  That meant the whole town, thought Tammy uncharitably.

  ‘You coming, Hunter?’ asked Lucy.

  ‘I haven’t been invited yet.’

  Lucy sighed. ‘Tammy! For goodness’ sake, do I have to do everything for you?’

  ‘No –’

  ‘Travis Hunter, will you hereby take Tammy McCauley to the Narree Gallery Opening next Friday night? There. Done. So?’ Lucy raised an eyebrow.

  ‘Yes. I will.’

  ‘That sounded like you were getting married,’ said Billy.

  ‘Thank you, Lucy. That will be all,’ said Tammy. ‘And you, Billy, don’t go getting any weird ideas. One marriage is enough for me.’

  Billy looked downcast. ‘That’s what Dad always says.’

  Tammy glanced at Trav but he was staring at Billy, an unreadable expression on his face.

  ‘I’ll be seeing you all,’ Lucy called, driving off.

  ‘Yeah, right,’ muttered Tammy. ‘In another life.’

  ‘So, are you coming?’ This was from Billy. ‘It’ll be better fun with you, Tammy. C’mon. Plea-se?’

  How could she say no to the boy? Plus the fact his father still hadn’t let go of her hand.

  ‘I did have to run into Narree today anyway. Got to do some stuff at my solicitors. Would I be able to do that while we’re there?’ She directed her query towards Trav.

  He nodded in response. ‘Yeah, while we’re at the appointment maybe?’

  ‘All right then, I’ll come. But you’ll have to let me grab a quick shower.’

  ‘Sure thing!’ said Billy, now jumping up and down on his seat. ‘That’s okay, isn’t it, Dad?’

  ‘Absolutely. We’ve got time for a shower,’ said his father.

  ‘Not you,’ said his son. ‘Tammy.’

  ‘Oh yeah, right.’

  But Trav’s eyes told a different story. Her stomach started to do a weird, fluttering thing like a squadron of moths or butterflies were on the loose. Her knees went weak, and then he did that bloody half-smile thing again. Oh. Dear. God. She was in trouble.

  ‘I’ll go and um . . . get started . . . um . . . shall I?’ She waved an arm vaguely towards the house.

  ‘You do that,’ said Trav, not taking his eyes off her for a minute.

  Goddamn the man.

  ‘I’m going now,’ said Tammy, not moving an inch. She’d forgotten she was wearing dark glasses, so intent was she on his gaze, which now seemed to be slowly undressing her. That was until a hand came up and removed the sunnies. She tried to snatch them back but she was too late.

  ‘Tammy?’ said Trav, concern quickly replacing lust. ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing.’

  ‘But –’

  ‘I had a migraine. It hurt a lot.’ Oh damn it. She could have thought of something better than that. She slid the glasses back onto her nose.

  ‘You had a migraine so you drank a whole bottle of wine?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Tammy, crossing her arms. ‘I thought it might deaden the pain.’

  He’d let go of her hand, stepped back and was now leaning against the bonnet of the ute, his arms folded.

  ‘I find it helps. You get a migraine, have a glass or two or three of wine, then you pass out and hey presto, no more pain. Well, not until the next morning at least.’

  ‘And where does ringing Lucy in the middle of the night come into all this?’

  ‘Oh that,’ said Tammy, flicking her hand as if brushing her best friend away like a bush-fly. ‘Just a minor detail.’

  ‘Yes?’

  ‘Well,’ said Tammy, purposely putting an exasperated note in her voice. ‘She is a nurse with a well-stocked medicine cabinet.’ Tammy smiled. ‘Now, I’ll just run up to the house and have that shower. We don’t want to be late.’ She walked, then jogged, then ran towards the house. As she got to the garden gate she slung one look back across her shoulder.

  Trav was still leaning against the bonnet of his ute, frowning. Damn it. That whole charade hadn’t worked. But she didn’t want to tell him about Shon and the farm. She didn’t really want to tell anyone besides Lucy.

  And in any case, Joe had to know next.

  Chapter 36

  Tammy was waiting in the sun outside the hospital. She’d been to see the solicitor and it had been awful. She didn’t know why she’d expected otherwise.

  ‘Sign here,’ said Hilary Stratton. ‘And here. And here.’

  Tammy had gone through the motions, scribbling her signature in a daze, pretending it was someone else holding that pen, someone else putting her property up for sale.

  And then Tammy was out on the street again. She couldn’t help but wonder if, in the near future, that’s exactly where she and her belongings would be.

  She was now back on the same park bench where she’d sat when old Joe had been admitted to the hospital. That seemed like years ago, but really it was only weeks. Could she find another solution? Could she keep any of the property at all? Start again with the homestead and say half the land? She swallowed. Even if it turned out to be possible, the idea of carving up her great-great-grandparents’ legacy made her feel physically ill.

  What about finding another investor? Did she know anyone she’d trust as a partner? The problem was Shon was so set on her losing Montmorency she knew he’d do whatever it took to stop her finding a way around selling the place. Shit, this was hard. Perhaps she should just start buying lottery tickets.

  Tammy watched a young boy and his father walk through the electric doors and come towards her. She couldn’t see the expressions on their faces. Couldn’t work out if the news had been good or bad. Billy was almost skipping along but whether it was from sheer happiness or just to keep pace with his father, she couldn’t have said.

  ‘So, how’d it go?’ she asked as soon as they were within earshot.

  Trav’s headshake was slight.

  ‘I’m getting hearing aids,’ shouted Billy. ‘Bright yellow ones!’

  ‘Really? They make them in bright yellow?’ said Tammy, while she searched Trav’s face.

  ‘Yep, they come in lots of colours, don’t they, Dad? Like liquorice allsorts, the lady said.’

  ‘They sure do, kid,’ said Trav. Tammy finally saw that it was pain on the man’s face. ‘Billy’s going to get two new behind-the-ear aids and they are going to make his life so much better.’

  ‘Yeah,’ said Billy. ‘I might actually be able to hear Joe when he’s teaching me to ride the old motorbike.’

  ‘He’s what?’ said the two grown-ups together.

  ‘He’s teaching me to ride his old Honda 110. It’s so cool. Boots just loves riding on the back. His ears fly out like mud flaps. I reckon once I get a bit better at balancing on the bike, I might even be able to dink Joe!’

  Tammy shuddered. Trav looked to the heavens. ‘But, Billy.’ Tammy thought she had to say something. ‘Don’t you think it’s a bit dangerous, you being so . . . well, little . . . and the bike being a bit big?

  ‘My feet touch the ground.’ The child’s tone was indignant. Then guilty. ‘Well, on tippy-toes.’ Trust Billy to be honest. God love him.

  ‘So, back to the hearing aids. What
happened, Billy?’ asked Tammy.

  ‘I’m deaf,’ he stated in a matter-of-fact voice. ‘I’ve got a mild to moderate hearing loss which the lady said might get a bit worse as I get older.’

  Tammy glanced at Trav, questioning.

  ‘He’s suffering nerve deafness,’ said Trav. ‘Even if it does get worse, things will even out. Probably genetic.’

  Tammy could see he’d already taken another bucketload of blame onto himself. As if Trav needed to shoulder any more of that. Right at that moment, she felt real animosity towards the woman who’d caused all this pain.

  ‘So, what now?’

  ‘They stuffed this white Plasticine stuff in my ear and that took its shape. It was really cold and came out looking weird. They make a mould of it so it fits right into my earhole and then they attach it to my new hearing aids. I can pick them up the week after next, can’t I, Dad?’

  ‘Yep, that’s right.’

  Tammy watched as Trav’s hand came out to stroke the hair on his son’s head. The strong fingers then massaged the boy’s scalp.

  Tammy nearly groaned aloud. She could remember him doing that to her, only two mornings before. The feel of those fingers in her hair, on her breasts, across the whole of her body . . . She tore her eyes away. Then looked back, because it finally hit her what was actually happening in front of her eyes. Trav was touching Billy. He was really touching his son! And Billy was loving it. The child was leaning into his father’s hand like Boots did with Old Joe.

  Tammy felt tears prick at her eyes. Don’t you dare, McCauley, not now. ‘So, I guess a visit to the saddlers is in order, hey?’

  Trav removed his fingers from his son’s head. ‘Yep. One stock whip coming right up.’ He held out a hand to Tammy. ‘You ready?’

  ‘Too right. I wouldn’t miss Billy spending my money on his very own stockwhip.’

  ‘Your money?’ said Billy, looking puzzled.

  ‘Isn’t this purchase from all the work you’ve been doing for me?’

  ‘Well, yes.’

 

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