“Morning,” she happily returned. The two women caught each other’s eye and flushed simultaneously. “Tch, look at us,” Maggie muttered. “Blushing like a couple of schoolgirls.”
Cadie chuckled. “Well, you have to admit, it’s not the most usual of situations,” she said, grinning as she watched Maggie push a lock of her hair behind her ear in a self-conscious gesture that Cadie recognized.
“True,” the older woman agreed. “I thought David was going to have an epileptic fit.” She grinned at Cadie.
“He obviously got over it,” Cadie quipped, laughing when Maggie covered her face with her hands in mortification. “Too late to get embarrassed now, Maggie.”
“Yes, I suppose it is, really.” She lifted the sizzling frying pan, showing Cadie the bacon and eggs. “Breakfast?”
“Mmmmm, yes please,” Cadie replied. “For some strange reason, I’m ravenous.”
Maggie snorted. “Fancy that.”
Cadie accepted the warm plate of food and sat down at the kitchen table, waiting while Maggie assembled her own breakfast and joined her. They chewed in companionable silence for a while before Cadie put down her fork.
“Jo and I figured out that we need to start heading back tomorrow,” she said quietly. She watched as Maggie slowly finished her mouthful and then put down her fork. “I know we've got another couple of weeks really till I need to go, but there are a lot of things we need to get squared away before we can leave again.” Maggie raised an eyebrow and Cadie continued. “Jo's going to come as far as Sydney with me.”
Maggie smiled. “Putting off the inevitable as long as possible, eh?” she said kindly. Cadie nodded silently, dropping her eyes against a sudden, and surprising, threat of tears. The older woman reached over and patted her hand. “It's okay, sweetie, I understand,” she said. There was another pause as both women contemplated the girls’ imminent departure. Cadie’s hand turned in Maggie’s larger one and returned the reassuring squeeze. “We've been delighted that you could both stay as long as you have. We've had a great visit.”
Cadie looked up again and broke into a wobbly smile. “We sure have,” she agreed. “Thank you for making me feel like part of the family. I’ve really appreciated that.”
“Tch, you are part of the family Cadie,” Maggie said firmly. “Even the Neanderthal I’m married to can see that.” She grinned.
“He’s been lovely,” Cadie replied, remembering David’s unexpected affection for her the night before. “And I don’t think he’s a Neanderthal at all,” she said. “It’s been an awful lot to absorb for him, I think.”
Maggie nodded. “That’s true. It took him a bit longer than I would have liked but I think he’s with the program now.” That provoked a laugh from Cadie. “The Maggie Madison Diversity Acceptance Program.” She grinned as the American spluttered around a mouthful of bacon. “Try not to choke, sweetie. That would be really hard to explain to Josie.”
David glanced across at his silent daughter. They’d barely said a word to each other since grabbing a quick bacon sandwich each and heading out for the back lots of the property. He wasn’t too concerned though. As far as he could figure out the silence wasn’t about last night’s revelations, but more about fatigue. David stifled a yawn. God knows, neither of us got much in the way of sleep, he thought. Boy, I hope that doesn’t come up in conversation. Somehow he doubted that it would. I like knowing we can be honest with each other from now on, though, he decided. It’s a good feeling. He stifled a grin as he caught Jo’s head drooping and he deliberately dipped the ute into a pothole, jolting them both.
“Ow, shit,” Jo yelped as her temple hit the metal stanchion of the ute’s door none too gently. “What did we hit?” she asked, looking at her father. “And what are you grinning about?” She rubbed at the sore spot.
“You wouldn’t have been falling asleep there would ya now, Josie?” David asked. “Expect you to be looking out for things we need to fix, not taking a nap.” He tried to sound severe, but he was just in too good a mood.
“I wasn’t asleep,” Jo denied. She grinned back at him. “I was just resting my eyes for a second.”
“Riiight.”
“No, really.”
“Resting them pretty well, then. They were snoring.”
“I was NOT snoring,” Jo yelled. She glared at the older man for a few seconds but neither of them could keep up the pretence any longer. Laughter exploded out of them both and David reached across and shoved his daughter’s shoulder playfully. Wow, he’s in a good mood, she thought. “So what’s got you all blissy?” she asked cheekily.
David shrugged. “It’s a beautiful morning, we don’t have a hell of a lot of work we need to do out here and,” he turned his head and looked deliberately into the blue eyes gazing back at him. “I have my daughter back.” He smiled, facing the front again as he guided the ute around a fallen tree.
Jo dropped her eyes. “Well, unfortunately, we pretty much figured out that we need to start heading back, probably tomorrow,” she said quietly.
“That’s not what I meant,” David answered.
Jo felt herself blushing. “I know,” she muttered. There was a pregnant pause as she thought about the previous evening. Such a simple conversation, really, she thought. But look at the effect it’s already had. She glanced over at her father again. Maybe now I can talk to him about money and he might actually listen.
Her train of thought was interrupted by their arrival at the day’s destination, a small, derelict storage shed that was in dire need of rebuilding. Jo sighed, knowing that her father was likely to push pretty hard to get the job done. She mentally rolled up her sleeves.
“Come on, girl,” David said gruffly as he opened his door and slid out of the truck. “Work to be done.”
Naomi slowly swirled the scotch in her glass, watching the ice cubes clink together as the amber liquid washed around them. It was her fourth scotch of the evening, not that she was counting. The alcohol hadn’t come close to touching the cold knot of fury in her stomach, however. It was just one more thing that was driving the senator to distraction.
A long, tedious day in her DC office had ended with an infuriating conversation with her public relations staff, Jason and Toby. Ex-staff, she reminded herself. Treacherous bastards. She knocked back the last of the drink in one angry gulp before reaching again for the half-empty scotch bottle balanced precariously on the arm of her chair. She poured another, this time turning a double into a triple.
Naomi looked around the darkened apartment. Her housekeeper had handed in her notice the week before and already the place was beginning to look like a bomb had hit it. Treacherous bitch. Over by the front door, the remains of a crystal vase – she vaguely recalled it being a present from Cadie’s mother – lay scattered on the carpet, the remnants of her conversation with Jason and Toby. It had missed them by inches.
“What is it with everyone?” Naomi muttered, tilting her glass and taking another swallow. The harsh heat of the scotch burned its way down her throat and settled in the pit of her stomach. Instead of the calming effect she was hoping for, a rolling ball of nausea made her wince. Everybody’s leaving me, she thought morosely. Self-pity welled up in her momentarily but was soon replaced by another wave of anger and resentment. Fuck them. Fuck them all.
She stood and carried her glass over to the big bay window that looked out on the city streets. I don’t need a goddamn single one of them. New people, that’s what I need around me. New people and new plans. She took another drink. Except Cadie. She’s the only thing I want back. She smiled grimly as the plan she had been hatching for weeks formed itself in her mind once more. The details had been lovingly crafted through many sleepless nights and the time was rapidly approaching when she could actually make it happen.
And then Cadie will be back here, where she belongs, Naomi thought, a tiny kernel of anticipation warming through the nausea. That’s all it will take. Once she’s back here and away from that Australian b
itch, she’ll see that she made a mistake and that she really belongs here. “She’ll see.”
A giggle escaped, its sound hollow and eerie in the empty room. “She’ll see.”
“Cadie!” Maggie leaned out the back door of the homestead, hoping her voice would carry to the stables. She was in the middle of a marathon baking session and didn’t feel inclined to leave her scone mixture while she traipsed down to the barn. She held still for a moment, listening for a response from the American, but none was forthcoming. “Damn it,” she muttered.
She picked up the phone again. “I’m sorry, but Cadie’s not within shouting range at the moment. Can I take a message?”
The man on the other end of the phone cleared his throat hesitantly. “Um, yes please,” he said, his American accent curling around the words intriguingly. “Could you ask her to call Toby Maguire at home, please? She has my number, I’m sure.”
Maggie wrote the name down. “Is it urgent?” she asked, conscious of the long-distance call and the time difference.
There was a long pause as if the man couldn’t quite decide. “No, not urgent exactly,” he said finally. “But she needn’t worry about waiting till its morning here. She can call any time.”
Sounds pretty urgent to me, Maggie thought. “Okay, well, I’ll get her to call you as soon as she gets back to the house,” she replied.
“Thanks,” Toby said.
“No worries.” The line went dead and Maggie pondered the latest development in her daughters’ lives. “Hmmm.” She went back to her baking and began kneading the ball of dough that was sitting on the wooden countertop. “Maybe I should go and find Cadie,” she muttered to herself.
The woman in question was knee-deep in horse manure at that moment. Cadie wielded the shovel enthusiastically as she mucked out the stables. Tilly and the two colts looked over their stall doors at the blonde who was dancing as she worked to the tune blaring from the small radio which rested on the top of the rail. It was late afternoon and after a day spent helping Maggie around the house, Cadie had volunteered to do one of the Hughie’s chores. The young Aborigine was out working on his own today, she knew, and would appreciate one less thing to do when he got back to the homestead.
“Wide open spaces,” she warbled, totally unconcerned that she was making the Dixie Chicks sound distinctly ordinary. Singing was not one of Cadie’s fortes, unlike her more musical partner, but that didn’t stop her, usually. Certainly not when there were only three horses to complain. Not that they were. She glanced over at the equines who gazed back at her placidly. “Pretty good, huh, guys?” she asked them rhetorically.
“Well, I’ve heard worse,” Tilly replied, startling the American no end. Cadie turned and grinned at her mother-in-law.
“You scared me out of about five years’ growth,” she said, provoking a chuckle from the older woman, who leaned on the doorpost of the stable.
“I guess that’s happened to you quite a few times, huh?” Maggie quipped, looking the petite blonde up and down.
Cadie’s eyes widened. “Was that a short joke?” she said, affecting mock outrage. “Boy, it’s not enough I get it from the younger one, now I have to put up with it from the older version as well?” She threw her hands in the air, breaking into a grin when she heard Maggie laugh.
“Sorry about that, shortie. No wonder you couldn’t hear me yelling,” Maggie said, reaching for the radio and turning it down.
“Oh, sorry,” Cadie said, abashed. “I got a bit carried away.”
“Mhmm.” Maggie smiled kindly at the blonde, loving the girl’s enthusiasm. “You just had a phone call from America,” she said. Cadie looked startled, as if it was the last thing in the world she expected. Interesting.
“My mother?” Cadie asked.
“Nope. A man called Toby Maguire,” Maggie replied, taking in the blonde’s reaction.
“Ah.” Cadie’s eyes took on a faraway look for a few seconds and then she refocused on Jo’s mother. “Sorry. Um, he’s my ex-partner’s PR guy,” she explained. “And whatever he’s calling for, it can’t be good news.”
“Oh dear,” Maggie responded. “He said it wasn’t necessarily urgent, but could you call him at home as soon as you can.”
Cadie sighed. This can’t be good, she thought. If it was a social call he would have just waited till we got back to Shute Harbor. And if he wanted to book another holiday he would have gone ahead and done that with Doris. Damn.
Maggie watched the range of emotions crossing Cadie’s expressive face.
“My guess is, Naomi’s gone and done something stupid and irrational,” Cadie muttered. “And the bad news is, he wouldn’t be bothering me with that unless it had some repercussions for Jo and I.”
“Ah,” Maggie replied noncommittally. “But she’s an awfully long way away, Cadie. What can she really do?”
Cadie leaned the shovel against the wall of the stable and pulled off the rubber work boots she had worn to clean out the stalls. There was no easy answer to that question. She really had no idea anymore just how far Naomi would go or how many strings she would, or could, pull.
“That is the sixty-four million dollar question,” she murmured.
Jo handed the hammer back to her father and watched him lovingly wrap it in an old rag and tuck it back into its proper place in the toolbox. He’s always been like that, she thought. So particular about his tools. She thought about her own habits when she was onboard Seawolf, recognizing for the first time the little traits she’d obviously inherited. No wonder Cadie keeps smirking at me like she’s got some secret, she realized, smiling at the thought. She’s seeing me through my parents for the first time. It was a minor revelation and she took a few seconds to look more closely at her father who was now wiping off his calloused hands.
They’d worked like demons through the morning, skipping lunch to get the barn back into a usable state. Jo was sore in places she’d forgotten she had muscles. They really could have used Hughie’s help with it but she was glad, in the end, that her father had opted to send the young man out on his own. It’ll make it easier for me to talk to Dad, she decided.
Wearily, she dropped down into the dirt and leaned against the side of the ute, grateful for the meager shade the vehicle provided. It was mid-afternoon and the sun was still wickedly hot. Her father eased down beside her and handed her a foil-wrapped package of sandwiches and a cold can he’d retrieved from the esky, a foam cooler tucked into a corner of the ute’s tray.
“There you go,” he said, cracking open the seal on his own soda with a satisfying whoosh of air.
“Thanks.” Jo swallowed long, cool draughts of the liquid, the first few mouthfuls barely touching the sides. “Mmm, that’s better,” she said with sigh as she took the edge off her thirst.
“We’ve done well there,” David said, nodding towards the barn. “Didn’t think we’d be as far along as we’ve gotten. Thanks for your help.”
Jo glanced at him quickly, then went back to her sandwich. “You don’t have to thank me, Dad,” she said. “It’s been fun. The whole visit has been fun, actually.”
He nodded silently, preferring to chew rather than talk. Jo hesitated, knowing that now was probably her best, last chance to talk with her father candidly about the state of the property. But she was also acutely aware that she was, in effect, a Johnny-come-lately, and telling her father how to run the farm was akin to teaching a grandmother to suck eggs. Not that she wanted to tell him how to run it, exactly.
“Dad?”
“Hmmm?” David was still looking over the barn between mouthfuls, figuring what, if anything, still needed to be done before they headed back to the homestead.
“Can I ask you something personal?” She watched as his eyes flicked quickly back to hers and he paled slightly. Jo raised a hand in quick reassurance. “Not personal, exactly,” she said hastily. God, I hope he doesn’t think I wanted to talk about… ugh, m’just not going there. “I mean, can I ask you about Coonyabby?”<
br />
David relaxed visibly and he shrugged. “Sure,” he answered. “Ask away.”
“Okay.” Jo thought carefully about how to approach this. “I know things have been pretty tough around here the last few years, what with the drought and all.”
Her father shrugged again. “Nothing much changes out here on the land, Josie, you know that,” he answered. “If it’s not a drought then it’s a flood. If it’s not a flood it’s the salinity. If it’s not salinity it’s erosion. There’s always something out here making it tough.”
Jo nodded. It was a familiar refrain that she’d heard from her father and his fellow farmers all through her childhood. “But I mean, it’s been tougher than usual though, hasn’t it?”
David looked at his daughter. He had a fair inkling of where she was going with this and he swallowed the urge to let his pride do his talking for him. Don’t get all up on your high horse with her now, mate.
“Yeah this has been a rough one,” he conceded. He could see she was trying to ask him outright just what the financial bottom line was, and he decided to put her out of her misery. “We’re not making money, that’s for sure,” he admitted. “Haven’t been for a long time.” He screwed up the foil that had been wrapped around his sandwiches and flicked it from hand to hand. “Last year I had to refinance just to keep the stock in feed through the winter.” That had been tough to swallow.
Jo listened in silence. Nothing she was hearing was surprising her any. She only had to look around Coonyabby to know that her parents were barely keeping their heads above water.
“Cadie and I have been talking a lot about this,” she started. “We’ve… um… we’ve got quite a bit of money put away and… well… basically, Dad,” she took a deep breath and ploughed on, “basically, we want to help, any way we can.” Jo saw her father open his mouth to respond and she rushed on. “We can afford it and it would mean a lot to us both… it would mean a lot to me… if you’d let us.”
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