‘Maureen and Don dropped everything to search for Seth,’ she continued, ‘so the least I can do is offer to take Seth’s place and look after Berridale while they’re away. Knowing my brother, after his days alone, he’ll want to head to the bright lights of Sydney. A family friend of ours, Sally, has offered to have him stay.’
Ewan briefly glanced over his shoulder towards her. ‘I can understand why he’d want to be around people but there’s no reason why you shouldn’t go to Sydney, too. After everything that’s happened, the Tylers would understand and wouldn’t hold you to Seth’s deal.’
Kree caught her frown before it creased her brow. Did Ewan not want her to stay? Not that it should matter either way but a part of her – the sleep-deprived emotional part – wanted him to be pleased she’d be around longer. She wasn’t yet ready to discover the connection she believed they’d shared was an illusion, and simply born of desperation.
Kree gave Whiskey a final pat and lifted her forearms from the side of the ute. ‘They do understand, but even though Don hasn’t said anything I can tell he’s worried about leaving next week and not having anyone to look after the farm. He talks a lot about the ewes he hand fed through the drought, which are soon to lamb. It seems it took a while to find Seth to farm-sit and now it might be impossible to get a replacement.’
A zipper sounded as Ewan closed his duffle bag. He faced her, a phone charger in his left hand. ‘The ewes are the last of his breeding flock. If it wasn’t his own son getting married in Greece, I’ve no doubt he’d cancel the trip.’
‘Well, I’d love to help so I’ll talk to them when I get the chance.’
‘You don’t have a job or … anyone who’ll miss you for six weeks?’
‘No, to both. I close my art gallery in winter as there are so few tourists and my neighbours will keep an eye on my mountain cabin. As for anyone who might be missing me, let’s just say they no longer have such a right.’
Something indefinable flickered across his eyes. ‘Fair enough.’
‘Exactly. So, once Seth is settled in Sydney, I’ll be more than free to help the Tylers. Mrs Butler tells me they have an adorable kid goat who thinks she’s a dog.’
‘They do. Her name’s Fudge and you might want to revise your adorable description.’ A rare smile touched the corners of his mouth. ‘They also have a red-heeler pup called Freckle and between the two of them they cause plenty of mischief. No wonder Seth had to go for a jog – if I were looking after them I’d need to as well.’
Kree took a moment to answer. The white flash of Ewan’s grin proved as distracting as the cloud-draped hills, which had reminded her of when life had been complete. ‘Funny, Seth hadn’t mentioned any animals. All he spoke about were V8 utes, motorbikes and bull bars.’
‘Well, they are the important things,’ Ewan said, nodding towards his glossy silver ute, which she knew firsthand was immaculate inside.
She laughed and shook her head. ‘Australia or America, boys still love their toys.’
His smile broadened. ‘They sure do.’
‘On that note, I’m going.’ She stepped away from the ute, her eyes not leaving his. ‘Ewan, don’t be a stranger. You know where I’m planning to be. Please tell Travis I owe you both a thank you dinner. I cook a mean pot roast, if I do say so myself.’
He dipped his dark head. ‘I’ll be sure to pass your dinner offer on to Trav.’
As she strode away, scanning the cloudless sky for the rescue chopper, she knew the odds weren’t in her favour that Ewan would be visiting her anytime soon. He may have nodded at her dinner suggestion but the compressed line of his mouth suggested he’d only done so out of politeness. She resisted the urge to turn and see whether he was still watching her or was already in his ute, thoughts of her the last thing on his mind. She was sure that had she not sought him out, he would have left the command post without saying goodbye.
She swallowed past the sudden ache in her throat. The worry and stress of Seth’s disappearance must be catching up with her. There was no other reason why the prospect of not seeing Ewan again left her feeling hollow and somehow … lost.
She quickened her pace towards the makeshift heli-pad on the clay tennis courts beside the tin hall. Seth had been found. Alive. He hadn’t been bitten by a snake or suffered a wild pig or dog attack. That was all that mattered. Not her feelings.
She couldn’t allow emotions to dilute her focus or prevent her from fulfilling the promise she’d made at her parents’ graveside seven years ago. Life had a way of extracting a heavy price for any lapse in control. Seth may have wanted a gap year between school and college to prove he could take care of himself, but she was a fool for not insisting he keep in regular contact. If she’d talked to him more than the four short phone calls he’d made in the month he’d been at the Tylers’ she might have known where he liked to run.
In the vast sky sunlight glinted off metal. She stopped and shaded her eyes with her hand to double-check that her urgency to see her baby brother hadn’t caused her to imagine things. Metal again flashed. Unshed tears welled, threatening to corrode the iron control she’d worked so hard to maintain. She wrapped her arms around her chest to still the tremors shaking her.
She wouldn’t fail her parents again by not keeping close tabs on Seth. Her responsibility to care for him came before the fiancé who had forced her to choose between him and her brother six months ago. And now her family duty had to come before this slow-smiling Aussie country-boy who’d held her tight and made her feel, for a too-brief time, that she wasn’t alone.
Leticia Mackenzie rested her head against the white, wooden verandah post of the Marellen homestead. It wouldn’t be long until her brother-in-law was home. Ewan had called to let her know that Travis had found the missing American.
She stared at the long driveway and willed a plume of ochre dust to appear. Ewan had been gone for two long days and the twins had missed him deeply. Tonight she wouldn’t have to cuddle Darby until he fell asleep. This afternoon she wouldn’t have to brave the wrath of rooster Lancelot in the chook pen to collect eggs with Braye. Ewan might be the five-year-old boys’ uncle, but he’d been more of a father than their own had ever been. And to her, he’d become the brother she’d never had. His friendship and support had given her the courage to survive, long before she’d become a widow.
She closed her eyes to shut out the image of the small house at the end of the garden, where she’d begun her married life with Fergus. A fragrant perfume drifted to her and she opened her eyes to focus on the beauty of the pink standard roses lining the sandstone path before her. The heady blooms were the last flush of autumn growth. During the drought, she’d laboured over keeping those ten plants alive. She’d rationed the boys’ bath-water and the washing machine greywater between the roses and her precious vegetable garden and somehow everything had survived. She wouldn’t ever again take water for granted.
Or love.
The unbidden thought shouldered its way to the front of her subconscious.
She straightened. Today was not a day for regrets but a day for looking forward, and for celebrating that a life had been saved. Careful not to glance at the garden cottage, she walked down the verandah steps and turned her face to the sky to examine the brilliant blue canopy. Warmth, and not from the midday sun, heated her skin. Travis would be flying over Marellen on his way to his own property, further south. Would he glance at the sprawling homestead roof and four-lane pool?
Would he be looking for her?
She smothered her sadness. Not a chance. She was no longer any sort of catch.
She inspected her hands; once city-soft and manicured they were now cracked and callused. Her mother would have a coronary over her blunt nails, let alone her un-highlighted blonde hair, which she’d taken to cutting herself. No longer was she designer-dressed Leticia MacTavish-West, social darling of the Sydney Eastern Suburbs. She was Tish Mackenzie. Widow. She heard the sound of small booted feet ring out on the back
verandah floorboards. She smiled. She also was a mother and that was enough. She wasn’t brave enough to ask life for any second chances.
With a last lingering look skyward, she headed up the steps to meet the twins. Braye tore around the corner. Dark hair awry, mud on his shorts and knees, and his sockless feet stuffed into scuffed brown boots. Midget, the Jack Russell terrier, was close on his heels, her doggy grin wide and deliriously happy. Seconds passed before Darby came into sight. Identical in looks to Braye, it was the subtle differences that hinted at his quieter nature. His navy shorts and red tee were clean and matching socks poked out of his polished boots.
‘When’s Uncy Ewy getting here?’ Braye asked, his voice breathless.
Tish tousled his hair and sand showered the floorboards. In an attempt to distract the boys, she’d sent them to dig in the sandpit Ewan had made them last Christmas. She’d have to remember to shake out their boots before they snuck inside, took off their socks and made their own personal beach.
‘He’ll be here soon, possum.’ She answered Braye, but smiled at Darby, sensing both his worry and his excitement, too. Braye always spoke for the two of them.
‘Now, when he does get here,’ she added, ‘Ewan will be tired. He’ll want a shower, something to eat and then to sit in his favourite chair on the back verandah.’
Braye scowled. ‘And a wrestle … he’ll want a wrestle.’
She caught the faint whiff of roast chicken from inside. She needed to turn off the oven or Ewan would be eating another of her over-cooked and leather-dry offerings. Her fancy French cooking classes in the city hadn’t equipped her to perfect family-friendly dishes that didn’t require much attention.
‘I’m sure he will, afterwards.’ She dropped a kiss on Braye’s head as she walked past to take Darby’s hand and lead him into the kitchen. She stopped midstride to turn and face Braye. ‘And I mean afterwards. If I see you tackling him before he’s ready, you can go upstairs and fold all those towels you used to make your bedroom fort – by yourself.’
Braye wrinkled his nose, but as Darby nodded beside her, she knew Ewan would be safe for the moment. Sensitive Darby would make sure impulsive Braye gave Ewan at least an hour before he’d have two delighted and squealing bodies climbing all over him.
At the kitchen screen door, she checked the driveway and glimpsed a smudge of dust.
‘Guess who I can see?’ She pointed in the direction of the cattle-grid towards a distant vehicle.
Midget raced down the verandah steps to wait on the driveway. She’d missed chasing birds in the garden with Whiskey as much as the boys had missed kicking a football with their uncle. Even though the terrier had unearthed the bone Whiskey had buried in the orchard within five minutes of him leaving.
The gleam of sun on the tin roof of the garden cottage caught Tish’s eye. Her smile ebbed. Memories of her brief marriage didn’t usually disturb her so much. The fate of the missing backpacker and the dwindling hope he’d be found alive had weighed heavily upon her. The spectre of death had again seemed so near.
Midget barked a loud and happy chorus. Ewan’s silver ute was now a rectangular form instead of an irregular blur. He’d soon reach the end of the long drive from the side gate into the farm. Darby let go of her hand and ran along the path between the roses to join the happy-dancing Braye and Midget.
Tish could just make out Ewan’s grim expression as he drove over the cattle-grid. Her heart clenched. No matter how much he honked the ute horn and waved his hat out the window at the now jumping boys, she knew the truth.
She wasn’t the only one whose scars had never healed.
CHAPTER TWO
‘Sis, will you stop fussing?’
Kree plumped up Seth’s hospital pillow and settled it behind him. She sat next to him on the bed, careful not to disturb his bandaged left arm.
‘Are you sure you’re okay?’
‘I’m fine.’ Seth smiled but his attempt to reassure her only highlighted the gaunt angles of his face. ‘Honestly, I am.’
Kree frowned and took hold of his bony right hand. The teenage years had taught her he was a master of one-word grunts and understatements. The word ‘fine’ could just as easily mean ‘I’m about to pass out’.
‘I’ve seen you look better.’ She examined his drawn features. Despite the ten years between them, it would be obvious they were siblings. Both possessed their father’s brown hair and their mother’s midnight-blue eyes but that was where their similarities ended. Kree still didn’t know from which distant ancestor Seth had inherited his impulsivity and strong will. Their quietly spoken, patient parents had been content to sit for hours painting. But the qualities that had led to Seth being lost had also proved his salvation. He’d clung stubbornly to the hope he’d be found.
‘I know I’ve said it before,’ Seth said, voice low, ‘but I really am sorry. I didn’t think. I took off for a run without telling anybody where I was going.’
‘It’s okay. You’re alive and that’s what’s important.’ Kree lifted their clasped hands and kissed his knuckles. ‘I know you want to enter the Sydney City2Surf run, so it’s understandable you need to keep fit. At least you had the common sense to take water and snacks with you.’
His expression turned sheepish. ‘It was more laziness – I hadn’t cleaned out my backpack.’ He carefully pulled his hand from her grasp and his fingers toyed with the edge of the white bed sheet. ‘I’m the first to admit I should have told Don or Maureen where I was headed. I should also have known better than to leap over a fallen tree like superman.’
‘True. I seem to remember an incident when you leapfrogged over a pole at the Denver mall and came off second best. I thought I wouldn’t ever be getting any nieces and nephews.’
Seth grimaced. ‘Man, that hurt. But in my defence, I was only fourteen and I thought my legs were long enough to jump clear.’
Kree swallowed as Seth’s hollowed cheeks reminded her how close she’d come this time to losing him. Seth’s leap over the fallen tree had caused the creek bank to collapse. When the ground had given way, both Seth and the tree had slid into the dry creek bed and he’d become trapped beneath the debris. He’d managed to manoeuvre his legs free but his left arm had remained pinned. Only the bright flash of the red backpack he’d hooked onto a branch had alerted Travis to his whereabouts. Thankfully, his two water bottles had kept him hydrated and his bruised apple and half-a-box of muesli bars had kept him nourished.
She hitched herself a little higher on his bed until her arm touched his. The warmth of his skin thawed the lingering remnants of her fear she’d never see him again.
‘So, superman,’ she teased, gently nudging him with her shoulder, ‘lay off leaping over tall buildings and fallen trees and you’ll survive your gap year, yet.’
‘But will my gap year survive me?’
‘Absolutely. All’s well that ends well. I’ll look after the Tylers’ place.’
Seth’s chin jutted. ‘It’s my mess. I need to stay and make things right.’
‘Normally I’d agree, but this time it’s fine. I haven’t anything to rush home to. Maureen has run through everything I’ll need to know and has said she’ll leave notes. I brought my sketchbook and am looking forward to doing the chillaxing you always say I need.’
Seth’s jaw didn’t lower.
‘The time will also give me a chance to work out something special to do to thank the Glenalla community.’ Kree risked taking his hand again. ‘You go to Sydney, rest and let your arm heal. Sally can’t wait to show you around. She also thinks there’s a landscaping place nearby that needs a casual labourer, when you’re ready. I’ll take care of things here. You go and make the most of your gap year.’
He briefly leaned against her shoulder. ‘Thanks.’
As a small boy he’d clung to her when their world had shattered, not once but twice. First, when a sudden cardiac arrest had robbed them of their mother. And second, when a skidding car on an icy road had stolen their
father.
She squeezed his fingers before letting go of his hand. ‘But don’t get used to me cleaning up after you. This is a one time deal. Got it?’
‘Loud and clear.’ He lifted a dark brow. ‘So does that mean bungy jumping in New Zealand is still on the table?’
Kree opened her mouth but remained silent. Her control-freak side might make her averse to taking risks, but Seth needed to embrace the life he’d nearly lost. His gap year was a chance to take responsibility for himself, to find out who he was and spread his restless wings. Even if that meant jumping off a bridge attached to what appeared to be nothing more than a thick rubber band.
‘Sure. Just tell me about it afterwards.’
His familiar, cheeky grin chased the last of the fear from her heart. He reached for the glossy car magazine beside him. ‘Does spending longer Down Under have anything to do with Ray trying to convince you to take him back?’
‘Not at all. I’ve made it perfectly clear we’re done. Our relationship ended long before it was officially over.’
‘I never liked him.’
Kree repressed a smile. Suited-up Ray hadn’t ever clicked with her energetic, free-spirited baby brother. ‘Who would have known? I don’t think Ray ever recovered from you shooting an arrow into the side of his Italian leather briefcase.’
‘That wasn’t on purpose.’
‘Sure, but setting up your target near the house wasn’t the best idea you’ve ever had. You could have hit a window.’
‘I wasn’t aiming at the house …’
‘Seth Garrett!’
He grinned. ‘Just joking. I didn’t know Ray had left his briefcase on the porch table, even if it did make a perfect target. Cross my heart.’
Kree stood. ‘Well, you don’t have to worry about Ray lecturing you anymore about making a five-year plan. He did teach me one valuable lesson, though. There’s only room for one male in my life.’ She leaned forward to kiss his forehead. ‘You.’
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