Father Callaghan had come out of retirement, driving up from Toowoomba especially for the day. Bonnie had been vibrantly present in a shockingly bright, lime-green wrap-around dress, and the O’Donnells had filled their traditional family pew and were generally docile and respectful, as was their custom in church. Sue’s pretty eyes had been full of tears, but without the sorrow that usually resided in them. Instead they had twinkled with a clear blue contentment.
Hammerhead, Mushgang, Dan and Stretch had rolled up looking unusually tidy. Beryl Sawtell had cried, while Arthur held her hand affectionately. Ellen had wheeled Mr Collins into the church and he’d dozed throughout the ceremony, opening his eyes just long enough to make a muttered observation to his invisible comrade Cedric. The smiling Mesiti family, with a precious Keira in their midst, had commandeered a whole pew, and the ruddy-cheeked Fred Campbell had beamed from the front seat with Heidi clasping his arm. A grinning Ewan Webber, who had drifted into town for the weekend, sat with Jeremy’s old drinking buddies. They hadn’t anticipated a churchy wedding like this one for their King Jed; in fact, they had never expected a wedding at all. And Brandi was nowhere to be seen.
Swept up by the excitement of a wedding in the town, the Country Women’s Association ladies had overcome their feelings of disapproval towards the youngest O’Donnell and decked out the hall with leaves and flowers from their gardens. They had covered the trestle tables with crisp blue and white tablecloths and an afternoon feast.
When at last the newlyweds found themselves alone together, driving the dusty road out of town towards their home, Alice had given Jeremy some less than welcome tidings. There was to be no ‘wedding night’ at Redstone. She’d insisted they wait for a few more days until their first night out on the bush run.
They’d taken a tent, as rain was forecast for the week. It would be a tight squeeze with all their saddles if the sky did choose to open, but Jeremy was looking forward to cuddling up. He climbed inside and waited impatiently while Alice did some final jobs outside and checked on the loose ponies one last time. But when at last she lifted the flap and poked her head in through the door, it was to reach in and take his hand.
‘Not in there,’ she said, pulling on his arm. ‘Out here, under the evening star.’
Jeremy was suddenly anxious. She’d need some careful handling, this one. ‘Just like that touchy little Arab mare,’ he thought to himself. All at once he found that he was no longer in such a hurry. His nerves made him hesitant, so he was gentle and tentative with Alice. But after a few moments she took his hands and let him know that there was no need to be. He knew then that Alice was no longer afraid to love him. She’d truly given herself to him and was holding nothing back.
At long last King Jeremy had won his Queen. Sex with love. It was something new for Jeremy and it took him by complete surprise, someone who had believed he’d tried it all.
Finally he understood: ‘Making love,’ he sighed one night, lying in one of the old slab huts, the arms of his new wife wrapped tightly around him. Then another thought occurred to him. Before Alice, he too had been a virgin in some ways, never having really entered into the spirit of the thing. He was about to say so to Alice, but decided that she might have trouble seeing it from that angle. And was it any bloody wonder? No, he’d keep quiet for once. Warts and all, she loved him, even with full knowledge of what he really was. And she was the only person in the world to truly possess that.
Then, once again it was time to return to the real world. Their honeymoon bush run was over. Yet as they rode closer to the Redstone boundary Alice felt none of the usual regret. Instead her heart was full of anticipation. The medley of bush and cattle sounds combined, and the earth seemed to be singing with the same joy that the two of them were feeling.
They rode side by side behind the mob, content to let the dogs do all the legwork. The pack ponies were following loose, also happy to be on the home stretch. Alice and Jeremy rode along so close to one another that occasionally their knees brushed. A glossy willy-wagtail flew from tree to tree, staying just ahead of them, seeming to tease the young lovers with his cheeky swinging dance. At each new perch, he’d turn to look at them, taunting them with his grating chirp and insolent, stuck-up tail.
Their knees touched again and Alice looked across at Jeremy. She felt a sudden powerful thrill at the sight of the intense emotion in his eloquent blue eyes. For the first time, she experienced no hint of her usual hesitation or shyness. Instead she felt alight with pure, passionate love and desire for him.
Jeremy seemed to read her expression. He jerked impulsively on the reins and Carmen came to an abrupt halt, throwing her head up in indignation. The next moment he was off the big grey’s back and lifting a protesting Alice out of her saddle. Despite her show of annoyance, Alice wrapped her arms around his neck as he lifted her down. Rose skittered sideways in alarm; then, seeing that Carmen had dropped her head unconcernedly to graze, the dark mare followed suit.
Jeremy held Alice up off the ground triumphantly, like a treasured prize, squeezing her so tightly that the air was forced from her lungs. Then he lowered her a little so that her head was only slightly higher than his and grinned up into her face. But Alice was serious and thoughtful. She’d nearly lost him. How thankful she was to have him here with her now. Her husband. She stroked his cheek softly, and tears of joy sprang up in his eyes.
Neither of them noticed the cattle disperse a little and begin to crop the grass. The willy-wagtail wagged and scolded insistently from a branch above them, outraged that they were paying him so little attention. Darcy and the Bennet sisters lay down in a thick patch of shade and with panting smiles looked on tolerantly. But Alice and Jeremy were oblivious to everything but one another.
Tomorrow morning they would arrive back at Redstone. There was still so much to do, so many improvements to be made. It would take years. Their whole lives. Alice quivered with excitement at the thought of it. She and Jeremy. She could hardly wait to begin.
Acknowledgements
Firstly, I would like to thank all the splendid and inspiring bush people I have encountered since leaving Sydney in 2003. You are truly a special breed and have provided all the substance for the characters in this story. When I lived in Sydney, I only ever saw negative portrayals of people on the land. If they weren’t being presented as environmental vandals, they were poor helpless victims, struggling against the cruel elements and asking for a handout. Through this story I have attempted to provide a much more realistic, and positive image of rural communities to convey some sense of the resilience, ingenuity and grit that I have witnessed first hand.
My heroine Alice doesn’t just ride around the countryside on a pretty horse, she is a strong, scientific, progressive, ecological food producer, with the courage to adapt and make the changes necessary to be a true steward of the land in her care. I thank my mother-in-law, Ailsa, my cousins by marriage, Nancy and Helen Creed and all my women friends on properties, most particularly, Wendy Lynch, Shannen Rae, Melissa Miles, Roxanne Olive and Sharon Kingston, who have shown me that women can be superior farmers too.
Thanks always to my wonderful parents and my siblings, for their unconditional love, and for always building me up and encouraging me from afar, no matter what I happen to be attempting. Heartfelt thanks to Cath Wells, Marianne Hiron and Carole Kurz, for being in on the secret that I was writing a book by night, and for egging me on. And to Carole also for the hilarious photo shoot. Thanks also to Inga Stunzner for her great editorial advice just when I needed it, to Hazel Leahy, Danielle Norton, Sally Kirk, Jocelyn Creed, Janice McCamley, Megan Tribe and Leanne Rutherford for your ongoing support and friendship.
Thank you Louise Thurtell, Karen Ward, Kylie Westaway and Amy Milne, for babying and encouraging me throughout the confusing publication process, and for seeing potential in my story in the first place. To Julia Stiles and Clara Finlay for your sensitive, intuitive and meticulous editing and for all that you have taught me about wri
ting. To Wayland Holyfield for allowing me to use the lyrics from ‘Could I Have This Dance’. To my faithful furry companions, my horses and dogs who have humbly taught me so much about life, most especially, Murphy, Rani, Buck, Byron and Sue.
Most importantly, thank you to my husband Cedric for his patient faith in all my hare-brained schemes. Without his rock-like support, constant help with the kids, and ability to turn a blind eye to piles of washing and an extremely untidy house, this book would never have come into being. And to Cedric also, for providing plenty of material for the character of Jeremy. Lastly, to my four darling sons, thank you for understanding that ‘Sometimes Mum just has to write her book,’ and for your constant, hilarious, vibrant and upbeat companionship.
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