Burning Fields

by Alli Sinclair

Rosie jutted out her chin. “Yes.”

  “Your old man must have lost his mind when he had that stroke. Women have no place being in charge.”

  She clenched her fist. It would be so easy to punch Ken in the nose. She’d experienced enough punch-ups between her brothers to know exactly where to hit and at what angle to cause damage. But she was better than that.

  Squeezing the keys in her hand, she opened the vehicle door. “You have your opinions and I have mine.”

  “But it’s not just my opinion, is it? People are talking. Doing a man’s job. Getting in with those wogs—”

  “Enough!” She really shouldn’t let him get to her.

  He leant on the bonnet of her ute and she contemplated pushing his filthy hands off her vehicle but decided against it. The less physical contact with him, the better.

  When he spoke, it was accompanied by a sneer. “You should think more about the company you keep, especially with that wog who hung around you at the dance like a bad smell. That’s all I’m sayin’.”

  She grit her teeth and yanked open the door. Sliding into the driver’s seat, she started the engine and wound up the window, despite the heat of the day.

  Ken’s scrawny frame sprawled farther across the bonnet. With his face right in front of her, he yelled through the windscreen, “You’ve made a massive mistake!”

  She revved the engine and Ken got off the bonnet and stood to the side, arms crossed on his torso. His glower would intimidate most people—but not Rosie. She put the ute into gear and pushed the pedal to the floor. Dirt flew behind and as she drove away. She glanced in the rearview mirror. Ken remained motionless, his legs wide apart, glaring eyes fixed on her vehicle. He stared her down until she turned the corner and lost sight of him.

  She shouldn’t be so unnerved by Ken’s hostility. He’d always had that element to him, especially as he’d never forgiven her for rejecting his advances in the past. The dig about Tomas and her working at Tulpil really got to her. It shouldn’t have, but it did.

  Before long Rosie was back amongst the cane and an overwhelming sense of peace washed over her. Keen to get home and finish up the rest of the day’s work, she pushed the peddle down hard and zoomed up the hill, only to find a ragged figure staggering in front of her.

  “Shit!” She slammed on the brakes and the ute shuddered, skidding across the gravel, out of control. Gripping the wheel, she took her foot off the brake and jammed it down again, steering the vehicle back on course. The ute jerked forward and stopped, slamming her back against the seat. “Jesus, Mary and Joseph.”

  The figure continued sauntering down the road, oblivious to the accident he’d almost caused. Indignant, Rosie jumped out of the car and marched toward the vagabond.

  “Hey!” she yelled, but the guy continued to ignore her. “Hey!”

  Rosie’s legs carried her swiftly past the unkempt man and she turned to face him to get his full attention. Maybe he was deaf? His bushy beard obscured his face, as did the tattered hat that covered his eyes. He clutched a rucksack that had been patched so many times it looked like a quilt. The boots he wore were scuffed and filthy, as were his pants that had holes in the knees.

  “Hey! You nearly caused an…” Her words trailed off when the vagabond removed his hat and his eyes stared into hers. “Oh god,” she rasped.

  Rosie’s legs buckled and she fell heavily to the ground, the sharp stones digging into the flesh on her knees. She didn’t care. The pain couldn’t outweigh the disbelief that suffocated, yet breathed life into her at the same time.

  “Rosie?” Alex bent over, his big blue eyes full of concern. God, how she’d missed those eyes with that cheeky sparkle, although the shine and playfulness had gone and he seemed to have aged at least twenty years.

  Alex was home.

  Rosie placed her shaking hand in Alex’s, her knees still wobbly from the shock. He hoisted her to a standing position.

  “Alex…what…how…” Her brain refused to connect with her tongue and a thick fog descended upon her. This couldn’t be. Alex was missing, presumed dead. Yet here he was, in flesh and blood. “I…”

  Alex’s gentle smile convinced her he was not a mirage.

  “Oh, Alex!” Rosie squealed. “Oh my god! It’s you! It’s really you!”

  Her brother wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to his chest. The strength that she remembered wasn’t there anymore. Or maybe it was…hesitation?

  “I’ve missed you so much, my Rosie.” Alex’s voice sounded strained, as if words didn’t come easily.

  “You have no idea how I’ve missed you, little brother.” She snuggled in closer. Although he looked like he hadn’t showered for weeks, he actually smelt fresh. “Where have you been? Why didn’t you tell us you were alive?”

  Alex let go of her and stepped back, like she’d just punched him in the gut.

  Instantly, she wanted to protect him, but at the same time, she desperately wanted to know what had kept her brother away for so long.

  “Alex?” She reached for his hand but he stepped away even further, his eyes not meeting hers. Rosie moved closer. “Alex?”

  He shut his eyes. “I’m not ready to talk about it.”

  “All right.” She picked up his bag and went to the ute. She’d just have to wait until he was ready. Rosie loaded the bag in the back then turned and asked, “Shall we go?”

  Alex’s mind looked like it was anywhere but in Piri River. “Yes.”

  He walked over then reached for her hands, taking a moment to study her. “When did you grow up? You look like Mum, you know.”

  “So I’ve been told.” She loved hearing that she looked like Cecile even though Rosie couldn’t see it. Her mother had a finer bone structure, was more petite, her hair less chaotic and it was a beautiful blonde, not fiery red like Rosie’s. Her poor father never got a look in when it came to Rosie, but she had definitely inherited his stubbornness.

  Rosie gestured for Alex to get in the passenger seat. He did so, but grimaced when he bent his left knee.

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing,” he snapped then rested his rough hand on hers. “I’m sorry. This is all a bit overwhelming.”

  “You can say that again.”

  “This is all a bit overwhelming,” he said.

  Rosie burst out laughing, reveling in the silly childhood game they used to play. When her laughter stopped, she studied her brother. A smile had barely registered on his lips.

  Rosie went around to the driver’s side and got in, started the engine and took off down the road, this time at a less frantic speed.

  Alex is back!

  Alex is alive!

  “Just wait until Mum and Dad see what I’ve brought back from my shopping expedition.”

  Chapter 17

  The screen door creaked open and Alex stepped out to join Rosie on the verandah. Red and orange streaked across the endless sky, casting a warm glow across the fields. Alex grimaced and gripped the arms of the chair as he maneuvered onto it. Given the last time she mentioned his knee, Rosie decided to leave that topic alone.

  “You look a bit different,” she said.

  Alex ran a hand over his clean-shaven face. He looked down at the clothes Cecile had kept in his bedroom for all these years, unable to part with her son’s belongings. “I guess I looked a fright.”

  “Just a bit.”

  “I’ve been travelling…roaming…whatever you want to call it. I had no one to impress. My appearance was just one less thing to worry about.”

  “You have lots of worries?” she asked.

  “Don’t, Rosie.”

  “Fine.” Although it was far from fine. However, for now she had to keep the pace slow, let Alex get used to being back at Tulpil. And let Rosie, her dad and mum get used to having Alex once more. For how long was anybody’s guess.
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  “How’s Dad doing?” she asked.

  “Better than we thought. He seems to have taken my sudden appearance rather well.”

  On the drive back to Tulpil, Rosie had filled Alex in about their parents—the stroke, and Rosie’s fear that their mother’s drinking had increased dramatically. Alex had taken it all very well. A little too well. Surely, his reactions should be more heartfelt?

  Stop judging, Rosie. You can’t possibly know what he’s been through.

  While Rosie and Alex sipped iced tea, frustration snuck up on her. She couldn’t think of one subject to talk to about. Actually, she had plenty, but was too afraid to bring anything up for fear of being snapped at again.

  “It’s exactly as I remember.” Alex fixed his gaze on the farm as his hand clutched the glass, covered in condensation.

  “Not a lot has changed,” she said, happy to hear his voice.

  She glanced sideways at her younger brother. The fading daylight highlighted the deep lines etched on his weathered complexion. Gone was the baby face that once had girls swooning at his feet, and in place was a much harder, older, strained version of the brother she once knew.

  Alex cleared his throat. “Dad says you’ve been running the show since he…has become unwell.”

  “Yes. I’ve enjoyed it more than I thought.”

  “Do you want to continue doing it?”

  “Of course.” The muscles in her neck tightened. Warily, she asked, “Why?”

  “No reason.” Alex focused on the fields once more.

  * * * *

  Rosie stood in front of the small tractor, trying to get a better grip on the spanner so she could tighten the bolt. The stupid machine had stopped working days before and, so far, no one had been able to figure out why. She refused to let a broken-down piece of machinery get the better of her. Although, if she were entirely honest, she needed to let out the frustration that had been building up since Alex had arrived home. She loved having her brother around, but it felt as if everyone had to tread on eggshells because no one was willing to confront the elephant in the room. How can anyone disappear, presumed dead, and come back without an explanation?

  Rosie gave the spanner one more twist. It slipped and her recently healed knuckles grazed the metal, sending searing pain throughout her hand.

  “Argh!” Rosie kicked a nearby wooden crate. A deep throbbing ran from her toe, up her foot and shot up her shin. She doubled over, cursing the ridiculousness of kicking an inanimate object.

  “Do you always take your temper out on poor crates?”

  She turned to find Alex’s lanky frame standing nearby. His lips kicked into a smile.

  “Do you always laugh at people when they’re injured?” She gingerly placed her throbbing foot on the ground and shook her sore hand.

  Once more his smile faded into seriousness.

  “What’s going on?” she asked. Good grief, the pain hadn’t subsided yet.

  “Dad’s asked me to take over.” Alex shoved his hands in his pockets and looked everywhere but at her.

  “What?” She stopped shaking her hand. “Why?”

  “Because…” He shrugged.

  “Because only Stanton men should run the place?” Fury mixed with disappointment surged through her.

  “Listen, Rosie, it’s not my fault. I only—”

  “Do you want this job?”

  He shrugged again.

  “Alex, I know I will never be able to comprehend what you’ve been through, I just want you to understand that it hasn’t been all roses here. I’ve carried the burden of being the only sibling at Tulpil and I had to fight really hard for this position—you know what Dad’s like—so please, excuse me, for being upset and hurt.” She took a long, slow breath. “And I am not going to let this go without a fight.”

  As much as Rosie wanted to rant and carry on, she couldn’t. It wouldn’t be fair to Alex. Besides, her father’s fingerprints were all over this.

  “I get it, Rosie. You’re right, I don’t want this responsibility, but Dad railroads everyone into what he wants them to do.”

  “So what do you want?”

  “I don’t know.”

  A strangled sob filled the air. Her brother crumpled in a heap against the workbench. She went to him and wrapped a comforting arm around his shaking shoulders.

  “He can’t ask you to do something you don’t want. It’s clearly not the right time.” Any concern about her own plight disappeared into the ether when she studied her brother’s glassy eyes.

  “It’s not that I don’t…I…” He pulled away and hammered the bench with his fist. Sunlight streaming through the open door highlighted the dust flying through the air.

  “What is it?” She lowered her voice, taking the same caring tone she used when he was younger. His shoulders instantly relaxed.

  “I don’t know where to start,” he mumbled.

  “Start wherever you want.”

  Alex nodded and rested his head against hers. Silence shrouded them and in the distance, she could hear the men finishing up for the day, the myriad of accents and languages mixing together.

  Whether conscious of it or not, his hand gently massaged the same knee he’d denied had hurt the other day.

  Finally, he opened his mouth and she held her breath.

  “It’s just been…hard, you know?” He shook his head. “How could you possibly know? How could anyone know?”

  “No one can, Alex. But we’re here for you. Whatever you need.”

  “What I need you can’t give me. No one can. No one understands. No one.”

  Outside the footfalls of the workers grew louder, their laughter emanating through the gaps in the shed.

  “I…I need to go.” Alex jumped up and ran out the far door.

  * * * *

  Rosie stood in the doorway of the lounge room after returning from three hours storming the walking tracks near Tulpil. Indignation had fueled her steps until she’d finally lost steam and returned to the house and taken a cold shower in readiness to face her father. She now observed him, totally oblivious to her presence as he studied the ledgers. He barely slept these days and spent a great deal of time mumbling to himself. Rosie didn’t have it in her to offer to help now that Alex had delivered the news. What upset Rosie the most, though, was her father didn’t even have the courage to tell her himself.

  Calm, Rosie. Remain calm. No matter what her mind said, her pulse raced and her body remained in a tense grip.

  From the safety of the doorway, she said, “Do you remember when I used to go into the shed with you when I was little and you’d let me pass you tools when you were fixing equipment?”

  Her father peered over his glasses. “That was so long ago, Rosie.”

  “But you remember, right?”

  He nodded then returned to the accounting ledger.

  Even without his full attention, she had to get this out. “We’d spend hours in there and you’d happily guide me as to what tool did what.” Her throat tightened. “You gave me an education in mechanics and a love for the land. That’s why I joined the Australian Women’s Army to work as a mechanic. You taught me so much. You inspired me, Dad.”

  Her father lowered the book and stared at her. He tilted his head back and concentrated on the ceiling. Looked at the floor. Finally, he locked eyes with her. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “Because as soon as the boys came along, I faded into the background. You pushed me away. We…” All the years of hurt balled into a large lump in her throat. “We stopped spending time together in the shed.”

  Now the time had come to get everything out in the open and for her father to understand the impact of his actions. Instead of fearing a fallout, Rosie felt confident she could deal with whatever arose if he listened to her—really, listened to her.

 
“Dad—”

  He looked up. “Do you really think that?”

  “What?”

  “Think that the boys were more important than you?”

  Rosie hesitated, then forged ahead. “Yes.”

  A shot of hurt flashed in his eyes. “My dear girl, I never meant for that to happen.”

  “But it did, Dad. The minute they were old enough to walk, you had them pegged as your successors.”

  He paused for a moment. “Out of the three of you, you were always the one that had an affinity with this land.”

  “So why did you push me aside?”

  His chest rose and fell and he moved his lips, as if willing the right words to come along.

  “Dad?”

  “You know the answer to this.”

  Rosie placed her hand over her belly as if protecting it from another emotional punch. Glancing at the door, she considered making a hasty exit but, whether she liked it or not, their relationship was out on the table, being slowly dissected.

  Her father shifted on the chair. “Putting a woman in charge of a cane farm is not the done thing. I broke with tradition because I had to.”

  “So even though you told me I was doing a good job, I am cast aside when a man comes along to fill the role.”

  Her father didn’t move a muscle. A moment later he motioned for her to come over to him. She did so reluctantly, and sat on the chair opposite.

  “Rosie, I am so, so sorry.” With his left hand, he reached out and wrapped his fingers around hers. “Going against tradition just isn’t…easy.”

  “No, it isn’t.”

  “Rosie, please, come here.” He motioned for her to move closer. This time she didn’t feel so reluctant. In a wave of nostalgia, she rested her head against his chest, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat bringing comfort. How long had it been since they’d shared an embrace? When was the last time they had actually sat down and spoken about their feelings? Her body jolted involuntarily. Never. So what had changed?

  “Are you all right, sweetheart?”

  “I’m fine, really.” She moved back to the chair. “It’s just that we haven’t really…talked.”