by Maree, Kay
“Sure, I can take a look.”
“Thanks.” She smiled. She expected Cody to walk away, but he stood there just taking her in. Unspoken words left hanging in the air. “Well, I better go,” she finally said, awkwardly.
“Right.” He nodded. “Have a good day, guys.” He waved to Grace and Austin while she turned and climbed into the driver’s seat.
“You like him, don’t you, mum?” Grace asked as she turned the key, bringing the old car to life.
“Yeah, of course, I do. Don’t you?”
“Yeah, but I mean you like him, like him.”
“Yeah, like you like Hunter Jamieson, hey Grace?” her brother taunted from the backseat.
“I do not,” Grace whined. “Shut-up.”
“She does, Mum. She and Lina talk about him during lunch. That’s why they won’t let me sit with them. You think he’s sexy.” Austin drew out the last word in a higher pitch, mimicking his sister.
“Do we have to take him to school, Mum?” Grace rolled her eyes as she watched her mother for a reaction.
Callie held back a chuckle as she listened to her kids bickering. She recalled talking about boys when she was Grace’s age. She’d have wanted to run and hide if one had tried to speak to her. Maybe that’s what she should be doing now, with Cody, running and hiding.
“Stop teasing your sister, Austin,” she called over her shoulder.
“At least I don’t love Miss Brayshaw,” Grace retorted, referring to the new school receptionist who was barely out of high school herself.
“I do not.”
“Do so.”
“Do not.”
“Enough, you two,” Callie snapped as they reached the gate. “I’m starting to wish I’d put you on the school bus.” That made the bickering stop. She knew they hated travelling on the bus. They only lived twenty minutes from town, but the bus took almost an hour by the time they picked up all the farm kids en-route. Chatter turned instead to motorbikes. That was the one thing Austin did like about living out on the farm. About the only thing.
~*~
“You-who,” she called out over the rumbling of the engine as she made her way into the shed.
“Oh, hey, there,” Cody called from somewhere she couldn’t see.
Spinning around, she saw him walking toward her. He had stripped down to a black singlet, the shirt he wore earlier swung lazily from the back pocket of his jeans. His biceps bulged unapologetically from the tight fabric. He was everything Adam wasn’t.
“I, ahh . . .” she started, her words getting lost on their path from her brain to her mouth. His lips finding hers before they had the chance to escape.
“I really do have work to do,” she panted out when he finally let her up for air. However, she could have happily allowed herself to get lost in his touch. “I have a mountain of phone calls to make.”
“I understand,” he agreed, although the look on his face didn’t match his words.
“I can’t believe you got the tractor going. I thought it was going to cost me a tonne.”
“It just needed service and a greasing up. I changed the oil filters; all the parts were here.”
“Sounds like my dad,” she laughed out. “He probably thought I’d do it myself. Maybe you could service the kids' bikes for me as well.”
“No problem,” he answered with a smile. It was paying off, having him around. He was handy for a whole world of things.
Cody
Taking in a long, cool drink of water, Cody stared out the window. The sun was just peeking its first rays over the hills in the distance, casting dusky hues over Carrillo Estate. He’d only been in Harlow’s Bend for six weeks, and already it was feeling more like home than anywhere else. Of course, it helped that the woman sleeping just down the hall had taken him in and showed him some old-fashioned hospitality, but it was more than that. Something he couldn’t articulate. Something deep in his soul.
“What are you doing here?”
He startled at the voice and spun on his heel to see Austin standing almost ghost-like in the shadows.
“You gave me a fright.” He placed his palm over his heart.
Austin took a step toward him and repeated his question. “I asked what you’re doing here.”
Cody’s mind reeled. What could he say? He had been sleeping in Callie’s bed every night for the last week and sneaking out through the French doors in the morning, making his way back to the quarters.
“I, ah . . .” he stammered in an attempt to buy some time.
“She still loves my dad, you know.” The boy’s face contorted in a look of distaste, which told Cody he knew exactly why he was in his boxers outside of his mother’s bedroom in the early hours of the morning.
“I’m not trying to take your Dad’s place. If that’s what you’re thinking.”
Austin shrugged. “Wouldn’t matter anyway. It’s not like he would care.”
“Do you wanna talk about it?” Cody tried.
Austin’s head shook from side to side. “Nope. He’s a loser.”
“Hey . . . that’s not very nice,” Cody defended, even though he tended to agree. The man had a beautiful family, one any man would be envious of, one he was jealous of, and yet, he had let them go.
“He’s an asshole. He doesn’t care about us anymore. He’s got a new family now.”
“That doesn’t mean he doesn’t care.” Cody leaned against the sink, crossing his feet at the ankles as Austin moved in alongside him. The fact he had just found a man in the kitchen semi-naked seemingly forgotten.
“No, but he’s always too busy for us now.” Austin overemphasised the last words. “He promises all the time he’ll come on the weekends, and then he gets too busy. Probably taking his new kids somewhere.”
Cody let out a low whistle. “Woah, that’s tough, mate. Have you talked to your mum about all this?”
Austin’s head shook from side to side in a negative gesture. “She’s got too much else to worry about.”
“She really cares about you, you know?”
The colour drained from Austin’s face. “You won’t tell her, will you?”
Cody dragged his index finger over his bare chest, indicating a cross. “Secret’s safe with me, mate.” Austin raised his closed hand and extended it to Cody, who responded with a fist bump. He was a cool kid. It wasn’t his fault he was struggling so badly. He’d been dealt a rough hand. Boys needed their dads around. It was just the way it was.
Austin reached for a glass from the overhead cupboard and filled it with water from the faucet. “I’m going back to bed.”
In the time they had spoken, the house had begun to brighten. It would be time to get moving soon. He knew Callie had a full schedule ahead of her, including a meeting with Austin’s school teacher.
“Do you think you could give me a hand later? I’ve got to bring some feed up to the holding pens,” he asked the boy’s retreating form. He knew he could do it alone, it would barely take him an hour, but perhaps feeling wanted was what Austin needed.
It didn’t take long to get confirmation of this, as Austin raised his thumb in the air and nodded.
“See you in the morning,” he called before heading back to bed. There was little point pretending now.
~*~
“I am just waiting on the last delivery. The company promised they would get it to me by Monday afternoon. Here it is Wednesday.”
Cody listened as Callie droned on about her missing shipments. It wasn’t that he didn’t care, of course, he did. He would hate to be in her position. Organising an event such as she was doing had to come with a myriad of dramas. It was her son who had dragged his attention away from her. Just in his line of sight, he could make out the boy's features as he spoke on the phone, and he strained to listen to his words.
“No, I understand. Yes. Another time.”
“If they don’t come by tomorrow morning, I will be insisting they
send them express, and I won’t be paying any extra,” Callie continued, seemingly oblivious as she took another sip of her wine. “I just can’t afford another day.”
Cody nodded in understanding, letting her know he was still tuned in to her, even if he was not giving her his full attention.
The slamming of the phone and Austin’s footsteps stomping heavily on the dark wooden floors, drew her attention and she looked up as he charged by them both.
“Where are you going, young man?” she called to the boy’s back. “It’s your turn to stack the dishwasher.”
“I don’t care about the stupid dishes. Wash them yourself. You made them.”
“Austin Adam Green,” she admonished in her best mum voice. “You get back here.”
Cody wanted to hush her, she hadn’t noticed what had just transpired, but he knew he had no place. This was between mother and son.
“I hate this stupid place. I wish we never came here. It’s stupid. You’re stupid!” the boy yelled before slamming his bedroom door with force far beyond his years.
Leaping to her feet with her shoulders trembling, Callie made her way to the boy’s room. Cody knew he had to intervene.
“Cal. Stop.” He reached for her arm, wrapping his fingers around her bicep.
Spinning back to him, her face glistened with tears, and her cheeks flushed. “You heard the way he just spoke to me. That’s not okay in my house.”
“Just let him calm down. C’mon, let’s go sit outside for a bit.”
“And who do you think you are?” she bit out. “You are not his father.”
“No, no, I’m not. Thank God. His father sounds like a total jerk.”
Callie’s shoulders scrunched up, and for a moment, Cody thought she might attempt to defend Adam, but she knew he was right. The man was a jerk. He didn’t need to meet him to know that.
“Just give the boy some time to calm down. I’m sure he will talk to you when he’s ready.” Letting her shoulders drop, he knew she had resigned herself to the inevitable. “C’mon,” he said, wrapping his arm around her shoulders and leading her away from Austin’s bedroom. “Let’s go finish our wine, and you can continue telling me about your deliveries.”
It took a beat, but eventually, she agreed, and they moved to the swinging seat out front. The night was warm, and mosquitos buzzed quietly around their ears as they drank in the night air. Already Carrillo Estate had changed since his arrival. Trucks had been moving in for the past week, bringing with them cattle, horses, and equipment. Caravans filled an empty paddock to the side of the homestead, and the hum of general chatter filled the air.
Callie had been busy organising people in many different directions. It was not unusual to see her dressed in her business suit, out in the yard, barking instructions at various workers. Saturday night was the big night. After that, the clean-up would begin.
“I just don’t know what to do with him when he gets like that,” Callie sighed, flopping her head back against the seat.
“Austin?”
“Aha. It’s like he’s a completely different child since we came here. I know he hates it.”
“You just need to give him some time and space.”
“Space?” She looked around. “How much space can a boy need?”
“That’s not what I mean. I mean, he’s growing. He’s trying to find his place in the world. He’s becoming a man, and he doesn’t quite know where he fits in just yet.”
“He’s only twelve.”
“Exactly. His hormones are running rampant. He’s caught between being a boy and a man. Geez, when I was twelve, I couldn’t think about anything other than girls. Not that they were thinking about me.” He laughed, recalling his tender years.
“Isn’t that still all you think about?” Callie chided with a pat on his leg.
“You, anyway.” He laughed, capturing her hand in his and holding it in place. He hadn’t come here expecting to find romance. That had been the furthest thing from his mind, and yet here he was, with this beautiful, strong, feisty woman.
“I don’t know how to raise boys,” she conceded. “I wish my dad was still here. He’d know what to do.”
“I’m here. I’m a boy.”
His offer was met with a roll of her eyes. “I meant someone who is going to stick around. Be a constant. I guess even my dad wasn’t that in the end.”
“Ouch,” he winced. It wasn’t as if they had spoken about how long he would stay. It wasn’t as if he had plans to marry Callie Carrillo, but somehow in those few words, she had pushed him away. Let him know she expected little from him. Maybe she was right to feel that way. After all, he was a wanderer. She was grounded. Solid. Attached to her little piece of the world, Carrillo Estate. She wasn’t going anywhere.
Callie
Passing the Brayshaw farm, the second biggest after Carrillo Estate in Harlow’s Bend, her memories turned to Ryan. He was several years older than her; she’d had a huge crush on him at school. The Brayshaw kids had starred in the band, aptly named The Brays, that still played at the rodeo today.
Bec, the older sister, had long since moved on, married a cowboy from interstate, and followed him home. Ryan, however, had stayed on to help his parents on the farm and still played guitar in his band, whose biggest gig of the year was the Carrillo Rodeo, and the odd party in town. Somehow a late-thirty something, long-haired guitar player wasn’t something that appealed to her anymore. She shook her head and chuckled to herself. At one point, she would have thought she had done so much better with her life, growing up, moving away, and now, here she was, right back where she started.
Finally, she pulled into the parking bay at the school—the same school she had attended for twelve years. Little had changed over the years. They had re-painted it a bright blue not long after she had left, but now the paint had faded, and it needed to be re-done. Or the building demolished, and a whole new one built in its place.
“Come in. Take a seat, Mrs. Green,” the bushy-faced man offered. He couldn’t be much over twenty-five, and she assumed his beard probably aged him a few years.
“Ms. Carrillo,” she bit out, wanting to correct him. Green was Grace and Austin’s last name, and she wouldn’t impose her name on them, but she didn’t have to associate her own with her ex-husband.
“Ms. Carrillo,” he repeated, sweeping a hand toward his desk, inviting her to take a seat.
Ducking her head, she made her way to the offered chair and smoothed her skirt down over the top of her legs as she sat, watching on as he sat at the desk opposite.
“So what seems to be the problem, Mr. Olsen?” she prompted, as he shuffled through a stack of papers.
“Please, call me Joel,” he replied, seemingly finding the piece of paper he had been searching for. His eyebrows rose as he glanced over to her before dropping it back down on her desk.
“What seems to be the problem?” he repeated her question. “Mrs. Green, ahh . . . I mean Ms. Carrillo, I have concerns about Austin. Now, I understand you haven’t been in town all that long, and there are issues,” he paused momently on the word, “with your . . . Austin’s dad.”
Callie shifted uncomfortably in her seat. It was none of his business what issues she had with her ex-husband, and she wasn’t about to share with Mr. Olsen.
“Anyway,” the teacher went on, breaking the uncomfortable silence. “I’m concerned that Austin’s grades are slipping, and he has not handed in any of his homework for the past several weeks. Grace, on the other hand, is always very studious. Now, I know that adolescent boys can be difficult, and I wonder if it’s due to a lack of a permanent male figure in the house. Not that I have anything against single parents, some single parents are the best I’ve known. I know you’ve been out there on your own for some time. I just don’t think it’s good for kids to have pseudo-parents pop in and out of their lives. When I was at university, I did a study on single parents who . . .”
Ange
r bubbled in Callie’s chest. “With all due respect, Mr. Olsen,” she spat out sharply. “I don’t see how our family situation has anything to do with you. Austin’s grades might be slipping, but you are his teacher.”
“Well, honestly, Mrs. Green,” he leaned back in his chair and folded his arms across his chest, “do you think it’s appropriate for you to have drifters in and out of the children’s lives?”
“Drifters?” she almost shouted the word. “What on earth are you talking about?”
“Grace mentioned you had a man staying with you and . . . ” he trailed off, his hands reaching for the pieces of paper he’d had earlier.
“Again, how exactly is that any of your business?”
“My only concern is for my students, Mrs. Green.” She cringed again at the use of her married name. “Austin has not been himself lately. He used to be one of my best students, and just lately, things have been quite off. Out of concern for him, I asked Grace what was happening at home that could cause Austin’s school work to be falling behind, and she said . . .”
“She told you about the worker we have helping us to prepare the rodeo? Would you have me do all the work alone? I run a business, Mr. Olsen. It keeps meals on the table for Grace and Austin. It keeps them in clean clothes. You want to sit there and throw accusations around about my parenting? I am a single parent, and a single parent raised me. What gives you the right to question my parenting abilities?”
“I wasn’t saying you’re a bad parent. I do apologise if that’s what you think. I was just saying it’s good for boys to have a man around. A permanent fixture, not some cowboy that breezes in and out of their lives.”
“Some cowboy?” She stammered over the words as they fell from her lips. “And who are you suggesting should fill the position, huh?” She popped her head to one side, fighting back the urge to scoff at him as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “You? Do you think you should apply for the position?” She knew her words sounded accusatory, but she didn’t care. “Don’t they teach you at teacher’s school not to bring your issues to the classroom, Mr. Olsen?”