Crimson Dawn

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Crimson Dawn Page 8

by Fleur McDonald


  ‘I’m looking forward to it.’ She held out her hand to Mac, who shook it gently. ‘May I look at the wool book before I leave?’

  ‘Certainly.’ Mac indicated the bench, where the book lay open.

  Elizabeth nodded and walked over. She had to walk past Thomas to do so and she stopped for a moment. ‘You make throwing those bales around seem very easy,’ she said admiringly. ‘I know from dinner table conversation, you’ll be with Mr McDougall in Adelaide. I’ll look forward to making your acquaintance then.’ She moved on, ran her finger down the book where Mac kept his records, then walked out of the shed through the loading ramp door.

  Thomas, his face beetroot red, didn’t know what to do. So he just turned away and said nothing.

  ‘She’s got her eye on you, young fella.’ It was the end of the day and Gecko was at the trough, throwing water on his face. ‘I could tell. An experienced bloke such as meself.’

  Tez snorted with laughter. ‘Reckon you wouldn’t know a woman if you fell over one on the city streets.’

  Gecko looked offended. ‘I’ve had girlfriends. I can always tell if they’re keen and I’d bet me next week’s wage the boss’s daughter has an eye for young Thomas here.’

  ‘Don’t reckon,’ Thomas said quietly, not enjoying the attention. He dipped his hand into the water and threw it over the back of his neck. The cold water made his skin crawl with goosebumps.

  ‘You’re such a young’un, you wouldn’t know. What you need is the advantage of wisdom. I can give yer that. You just need to stick with me. I know what women want and how to get ’em. I’ll show you.’ Gecko spoke solemnly, believing every word he said.

  ‘That’s why you’re out here, with us, and not a woman in sight,’ Clarrie crowed. ‘But that’s good, Gecko. You keep telling yourself that.’ He slapped his friend’s shoulder and walked towards the shearers’ quarters.

  Thomas grinned and finished washing up.

  Then Mac appeared. ‘Jackaroos are running the last of the sheep through the dipper,’ he said. ‘Seen it done before?’

  ‘Nope.’

  ‘Head up into the shed and have a look through the window. I’ll be up in a moment or two.’

  Back inside, Thomas looked through the grimy glass at the freshly shorn ewes running down the raceway. They were vivid white and, now free of their wool, they had more energy than before. They ran towards the big wide tank, pushed by the men and dogs. Plunging into the water, which had been laced with chemicals to stop lice, they swam to the other side then clambered out, their hooves sometimes slipping on the damp cement. Then they raced off into the paddock, shaking like dogs as they went.

  What a sight. It made Thomas want to get out there and be involved.

  Mac stood beside him. ‘Something just makes you feel good when you see men and dogs who know what they’re doing work sheep. Ford’s employees are good stockmen, and good ones make it look easy.’

  ‘They do,’ Thomas agreed. They were silent for a moment. ‘Lice decreases the value of the wool, you said?’

  Mac nodded. ‘Left untreated the wool clots together. If they don’t treat for it, the product is of little value.’

  ‘But those sheep have produced excellent wool. I didn’t see anything that would stop it making good money.’

  ‘Mr Ford likes to prevent lice. He dips them every year, whether they need it or not. It’s good farming practice and it doesn’t let them get a start. Once you’ve got lice they’re hard to get rid of, because you need to treat every sheep you have. If you don’t get a clean muster and the one animal you leave behind is lousy, it’ll infect the rest of the mob in the paddock.’ He stopped and looked over at Thomas. ‘Ever had nits?’ he asked.

  Thomas remembered a time when Howard hadn’t been able to stop scratching and his mother had doused his head with kerosene and wrapped brown paper around it. His brother had got to have time off school when he didn’t. Well, good for Howard.

  He shook his head. ‘My brother had them once.’ The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them.

  If Mac noticed that Thomas had just let some personal information slip, he pretended not to.

  ‘You’re lucky, then. Lice are similar to nits. They’re bloodsucking mites and they make the sheep itch. You can always tell if a place has lice before you see the sheep.’ He took his tobacco pouch out of his pocket and started to roll a cigarette. ‘They rub, you see. Rub against trees, bushes, fences. And when they do that, the wool is torn out and stays wherever they’ve been.’ He put the cigarette in his mouth and fumbled for his matches. ‘If you don’t get rid of them, they just keep on biting.’

  ‘Right.’ Thomas committed the information to memory.

  ‘Miss Ford knows all this too. Like I said earlier, she’d be a good catch.’ Mac lit his cigarette, then turned from the window to look at Thomas.

  Thomas slid a sideways glance at his friend. ‘If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were match making.’

  ‘One of my many talents.’ Mac laughed.

  Thomas shook his head. ‘She won’t be interested in the likes of me. I have nothing to offer her.’

  Mac slapped him on the shoulder. ‘Come on, you’ve got to beat Frankie at cards tonight. It’s about time someone did!’

  Chapter 11

  2008

  Laura leaned over the rails inside the shearing shed and listened to the rain on the tin roof. One of the merino rams she’d reared came over and nuzzled her hand.

  Laura stroked his soft velvety nose. ‘What’s up, Boof?’

  He tried to nibble her fingers and she yanked back her hand. ‘Don’t do that! It hurts. You can’t be hungry, I just fed you.’ Laura glanced down into the feed trough and noticed that the special blend of grains, salt and molasses she’d mixed earlier had all gone. ‘Guts,’ she said affectionately.

  The three other rams that were also kept in the shed milled around, sniffing and tossing their heads at her gently. Now it was Random’s turn to get a pat.

  ‘So, you boys ready for tomorrow?’ A thrill of nervousness and fear shot through her. It all came down to tomorrow, when she’d be taking her rams to the Royal Adelaide Show.

  Catherine had been right about showing her ‘boys’ and she’d begun to have a few successes. The first couple of country shows Laura had attended hadn’t netted her much except a ‘Highly Commended’ award. The year after, however, she managed to get a champion ribbon at one of the local shows. And the year after that, she’d taken a team to the Royal Adelaide Show and struck gold, winning the class with a fine-wool two-tooth ram.

  Making the victory even sweeter was the fact that she’d beaten Meghan’s best ram. However, Laura would never forget the look of hatred that crossed her former friend’s face when her ram was sashed. Of course, Meghan had immediately rearranged her expression into a tight smile before shaking Laura’s hand. ‘Don’t think it will ever happen again,’ she’d hissed. ‘We’re better than you. Always have been, always will be. This is nothing but a fluke.’ Meghan had turned away and was gone an instant later, leaving Laura feeling sick to the core.

  She shook her head in an effort to put her former friend out of her mind. Meghan really was ridiculous. How they could ever have been best friends Laura would never understand. Meghan had turned out to be uncaring and vindictive. And as for Josh, and where he fitted in, she still didn’t understand.

  The warm breath from Random’s nose touched her fingers. She looked down at the animal and had to stop herself from opening the wool again to view the luxurious fibre. It wouldn’t have changed from the previous ten minutes, but it was hard to stop looking at what she hoped was the best wool she had produced. Ever.

  She had a lot to thank Catherine for. This had been all her idea. And the farming school that her friend had first dreamt up was also now a reality.

  It still made her heart ache that Howie hadn’t lived to see the school get off the ground. He’d seen all the work go into it, the red tape and all the
snares Laura had encountered. He’d been there to talk to at the end of a bad phone call and to celebrate with her after a good one. It was Howie who’d suggested she take a girls-only approach, even if it was deemed politically incorrect, and Laura had jumped at that idea. She could remember how, surrounded by blokes at field days, she’d been too scared of sounding silly or uneducated to ask questions, worried that she might become the target of condescending comments. Laura knew she could give the girls confidence in their ability and make them stand tall among the men.

  The idea of enrolling the students for a year had been a good one from her father. It let the girls see the whole cycle of farming, from seeding to harvest, mating to lambing, marking to shearing and all the boring things in between, like fencing. The course ran from June to May, so the students had graduated and were out looking for work as harvest approached. This gave them the chance to pick up some casual work. Hopefully the owners would see how good they were and offer them a job.

  But, as Catherine had foreseen, it was a two-way street. Laura taught the girls all the things she’d learned from her Papa, but with a more modern approach, how she’d come to understand the job. She mentored the students and instilled poise and conviction in their decision making. In return, they kept her smiling and eager to get up and go to work every morning, as well as giving her the labour force she needed to keep Nambina running.

  And they kept the loneliness at bay. Since her acrimonious split with Josh she’d kept the promise she’d made to herself. There’d been no more men.

  All at once the rams looked in the direction of the shed’s open door. Laura turned and saw the outline of an old and decrepit Rusty limping towards them. The cat’s wildness had taken its toll. He’d had fights with other cats and more than one dog, and he bore scars and walked with a hobble, his left ear torn in two. One day, she knew, she’d come into the shed to find him gone forever.

  She watched as the cat slid through the railings and, tail in the air, padded over to Boof. Ram and cat eyed each other for a moment, then Rusty took the few steps that separated them and wound his way in and around the ram’s legs.

  Boof leaned down and sniffed him. Rusty nuzzled back with his nose.

  Boof’s front knees buckled and the ram sat heavily on the grating. Laura watched in amazement as, with one swift movement, Rusty jumped onto the ram’s back, paced in a circle to make a bed, then sat down and began to wash his paw. Boof didn’t move.

  ‘That’s so funny,’ she whispered, not wanting to break the spell. ‘I knew you were mates, but I’ve never seen that before.’ Certain no one would believe her if she told them, Laura had half a mind to take a photo with her mobile phone, but she didn’t want to disturb the friends so, instead, she just watched.

  A clattering noise spooked the rams, and they darted away to the far side of the pen. Rusty had to leap quickly to the ground so he wasn’t thrown off.

  ‘Morning, Laura,’ called Tegan. The students had arrived.

  ‘Hi, girls,’ she answered and watched as they shook raindrops from their hats and coats. ‘Cool enough for you?’ Spring had supposedly sprung but the weather was unseasonably cold.

  Allie held up her gloved hands. But for the blonde curls framing her face, her hair was hidden by a thick knitted beanie. ‘It’s freezing! It took me two goes to get out of bed this morning. I love my electric blanket! Better than a bloke, I reckon!’

  ‘Speak for yourself,’ Robyn snorted as she ripped off her cap and let her long auburn hair fall. ‘I’d rather a man keep me warm any day.’

  Tegan shot her a sideways glance. ‘Yeah, a man called Will Scott, methinks.’

  Laura hid a smile.

  Robyn blushed and turned away. ‘Maybe,’ she answered coyly.

  It was the students’ youth and enthusiasm, laughter and teasing, that made Laura love the new direction her business had taken. It kept her feeling young and excited about farming—something she needed. It did her soul good to know there were plenty of young women coming into the agricultural industry, that the industry would be left in good hands when she no longer worked within it.

  And this group of students was different to the others. Previous ones had been from towns or the city, with only the odd farm girl thrown in. Some of the city girls had grand plans to marry men with large acreages. Those girls never lasted long, something Laura had been thankful for. They frustrated her with their romantic notions of how the land should be worked and animals cared for.

  The farm girls often needed experience away from the family farm before going home for good. As Laura’s reputation grew, more of the students were genuine want-to-learn girls, girls like Tegan, Allie and Robyn.

  These three were all from farming backgrounds and their personalities were as different as the places they came from.

  Tegan had crossed the border from Victoria, and Laura loved how much she laughed. Hard work didn’t worry her, and she was usually the first to pitch in and have a go.

  Robyn was the quietest of the group. She didn’t need many words to say what she needed to, rarely speaking unless it was important. She’d grown up in the Flinders Ranges, and she was forever marvelling at how different her home up north was compared with the country around Nambina, especially in terms of rainfall.

  Allie worked hard. She asked lots of questions and was always on time, but Laura had the feeling that Allie wouldn’t end up on a farm. She seemed more interested in the financial side—gross margins and returns per hectare. Laura thought she might get into banking or an agribusiness, which wasn’t a bad thing. As far as she was concerned, the more financial institutions understood the vagaries of farming, the better.

  ‘Will Scott?’ Laura queried, a small smile playing around her lips as she recalled the tall farm lad from the other side of town. ‘Really?’

  ‘Possibly.’ Robyn dismissed the question and focused on the rams. ‘Are we ready to load?’

  ‘That’s a deflection if ever there was one,’ Tegan said, laughing.

  ‘Okay,’ Laura said. ‘I’ve bagged up all the feed the boys will need for the three days at the show. Do you remember why I told you they couldn’t run out of the feed they’re used to?’

  ‘Because it’ll upset their tummies and they’ll get the shits,’ they recited together like schoolchildren.

  ‘Good, and that’s why we need to take our water with us as well. I’ve got five bags of mix already on the ute. Everything else is over there. Robyn, you want to load up the drums of water? Allie, can you check it all off this list as we throw it on?’ She handed Allie a clipboard. ‘Don’t want to leave anything to chance.’ Laura smiled. ‘Tegan, can you help me tarp up the crate?’

  ‘Sure.’

  They worked together until everything except the rams was loaded and ready. Every time Laura looked across at the boys they were watching, seeming to sense something was different about today.

  Finally, it was time. ‘Here are the halters. I’ll grab Boof, you girls take the others.’ Expertly slipping a rope over Boof’s nose and under his chin, Laura yanked on it gently before leading him out of the pen and down towards the loading ramp. His hooves clattered on the wooden grating and she took a quick look at his feet. The trimming she’d given him a couple of weeks ago had been worth it. They were in good shape.

  Random was next, followed by Jack and Mr Darcy. One by one, they were all transferred into the back of the ute and the tarp tied down.

  ‘Do you know, there was one family who took their show team to a field day in the mid-north,’ Laura said as she made sure the rope was tied tight. ‘It’s always hotter up there than here so they opened the back flap to let air flow through. When they got to the field day they discovered the rams’ faces were all sooty from the diesel fumes.’

  ‘Oh no!’ gasped Allie. ‘What a waste of a year’s work! They would have lost a heap of money, wouldn’t they?’

  Laura nodded. ‘They had to pull the exhibits out and that wasn’t the worst of it. There was
an oily film all over the fleeces. It made them look like they were under-prepared.’ She turned back to them. ‘I’ve told you about the five Ps, haven’t I?’

  ‘Preparation prevents piss-poor performance,’ they all chimed in together.

  ‘Ah,’ said Laura. ‘I might have to get some new lines.’

  ‘Imagine that,’ Robyn said, dragging the conversation back. ‘Blade shearing, getting a beautiful amount of wool on the animal, all the feed and care you’ve put into him, let alone the time spent making sure he’s fit and healthy, or trimming his feet or whatever, just to pull out. That’s insane!’

  ‘Bloody disaster,’ Tegan agreed. She bent down to grab another water barrel.

  Laura nodded. The care factor with these girls was right where it should be.

  ‘Okay, you guys all packed?’

  They nodded.

  ‘Righto, well, I guess we should be off.’ She dug in her pocket and came out with a fuel card. ‘You can use this to buy your diesel, since you’re taking your own car,’ she said, handing it to Robyn. ‘I’ve written the PIN number on the back. Make sure you lock the gate and I’ll see you in Adelaide at the showgrounds. And girls?’ She turned back to look at them. ‘Make sure you look pretty. The people get judged too.’

  Chapter 12

  2008

  Laura was still streets away from the showground but she could hear the music and loud disembodied voices booming over the PA system.

  After unloading the rams into their pens in the shed and parking her ute close by so their feed and water were handy, she had walked the short distance to the motel she had booked into. She’d slept restlessly, with dreams of Howie judging the classes and her rams losing.

  From where she was now, if she looked up, she knew she’d see the Ferris wheel. But she didn’t look up. In fact, she’d be avoiding sideshow alley and the rides. To Laura, the show was about letting people know what was out in the community. It was a shop window for the state, so to speak.

 

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