The Country Girl

by Cathryn Hein

  ‘I need to think about it.’ Her gaze returned to the room behind. ‘And I want to talk to Maddy.’

  ‘Of course.’ Grant rose and indicated for Nicola to do the same. ‘We’ll be in the kitchen if you need us.’

  Tash waited until they’d gathered the tea things and disappeared before she ventured through the French doors. It was silly, even strange, to be doing this when the conversation would be all one-sided, but Tash would never feel right if she didn’t.

  She pulled a stool close alongside Maddy’s bed and sat, arching forward to study her expression. It was no different to previous visits but Tash wanted to lock it in her mind. Any flicker of muscle, any reaction when she revealed Grant and Nicola’s plan, and Tash would run as fast from this as she could.

  She crossed her arms over her knotted belly. How could she phrase this? Where to start? She rubbed her forehead. ‘I don’t know what to do, Mad. I don’t know what’s right. I don’t know whether I’m being helpful or selfish, and I don’t want to do the wrong thing. By anyone.’ She choked down on a sob, not wanting Grant or Nicola to hear, and disturbed that even now, their rift remained raw.

  Tash took half a minute to control her shaky breathing and concentrated back on Maddy’s slack face. ‘They want to give me Khan, Mad. For the time I’m here. To look after, ride, whatever.’ She paused, hunting for a change in Maddy’s expression, and found none. ‘They think you would want it, that you wouldn’t want him going to waste in a paddock.’ Still nothing. ‘They think … they think I’m the best person. That I’m the only one you’d trust to look after him. Because we’re friends.’

  Her voice lowered to a choked whisper. ‘But I don’t know if you still see us that way. I don’t know if you’d have forgiven me for cutting you off the way I did.’ Hot tears leaking, she bent even closer, searching, praying for an excuse to say her apologies to Nicola and Grant and walk out. ‘I didn’t mean it to be forever. I just wanted you to experience what it was like to have someone you care about walk out of your life.’

  Which is what Mitch had done. Walked away from Tash and her generous heart.

  She wiped her wet cheeks and took a moment to calm herself. It was funny, but Tash had never looked twice at Mitch at high school. He was a latecomer, having moved to Emu Springs in Year Ten, which left him with the usual struggles of fitting in and making friends, and his natural reserve did him no favours. Back then Tash was too busy trying to attract the attentions of sporty boys like Clip to bother with Mitch beyond her usual friendliness. Then years later they’d bumped into each other, slightly drunk, in a favourite uni student bar in Melbourne, and what started out as a silly flirtation had led to a date and then a relationship.

  They’d only lasted five months, but that was more than enough time for Tash to fall in love. And there was plenty to fall in love with. Mitch wasn’t handsome like Patrick and Clip, but he was sweet and smart. Most of all he made her feel adored.

  ‘Don’t you think he’s a bit … you know …’ Maddy had said when Tash first phoned her about Mitch.

  ‘No, I don’t know.’ Although she did.

  ‘Don’t be a smartarse. You know exactly what I mean. He’s a geek, Tash.’

  ‘And as everyone knows, geeks inherit the earth. Or at least multi-billion dollar software companies.’ Tash didn’t have to see Maddy to know she’d be rolling her eyes at that. ‘So he’s a bit quiet. Haven’t you heard of still waters running deep? Anyway, he makes me feel special.’ Which had been more than the other men she’d hankered after did. They barely registered her existence.

  Maddy had sighed. ‘That’s because you are special, you nong.’

  Too busy with study, her part-time job and The Urban Ranger, Tash hadn’t worried about the conversation. Then Maddy came to Melbourne during one of Tash’s semester breaks and they’d spent days adventuring around the city, doing everything from perving on footballers at training, to kayaking around the Docklands, to pubbing and clubbing. Having avoided any of their other activities, despite both Tash and Maddy’s pleas, on the last night Tash managed to drag a reluctant Mitch out to a nightclub. It had been a disaster, but Tash had no idea how much of one until two days later, when he suddenly announced it’d never work between them.

  ‘I don’t understand,’ Tash had said. ‘What have I done?’

  ‘Nothing. It’s not you, it’s me.’

  If she hadn’t been so upset Tash would have laughed at the cliché.

  ‘But I thought we were happy. I thought you …’ She swallowed and looked away, searching her mind for what had gone wrong. She remembered the club, leaving him alone with Maddy at the bar while she’d tottered drunkenly off to the loo. Mitch telling her on her return that he was heading home. ‘It was Maddy, wasn’t it?’

  His silence answered the question.

  ‘What did she say?’

  Mitch shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter.’

  Incomprehension had given way to anger. ‘You’re dumping me because of something my friend said?’

  ‘I’m not dumping you, I’m just …’ He rubbed his hand over his head. ‘It’ll be better this way, in the long run.’ He opened the door and looked back at her. ‘You’re a great girl, Tash.’ He smiled sadly, and for a moment she was sure he was going to say more. Instead he crossed the room, cupped her face and pressed his forehead against hers. ‘Take care, pretty girl.’

  Then he kissed her and was gone.

  Maddy must have apologised a hundred times, but what good were apologies when Tash’s heart was broken? She refused Maddy’s offer to call Mitch and make it right. Mitch had made his choice and Tash didn’t want him back anyway. Why would she? He’d proved himself a coward, preferring to walk away from her love than risk it on a future that might never have happened.

  It would have ended there if not for Maddy commenting that the breakup was probably for the best. As she’d told Mitch that night, he wasn’t the man for Tash. The past few days had proved that. He was too indoorsy, too introverted, and while it worked for now, she’d outgrow him soon enough. And Tash, being Tash, would be too kind to dump him and end up miserable.

  Fuelled by heartache, Tash’s temper had exploded. The ensuing argument dragged up years of petty hurts and accusations, and concluded with Tash telling Maddy exactly where she could stick her paternalistic version of friendship. Tash could manage her own life without it, thanks very much.

  And so the cold war had begun. Only for Maddy it never ended.

  Weariness settled on Tash, a defeated feeling she hadn’t experienced in ages. She eased back and rubbed her face. All through the conversation Maddy’s gaze had continued its indeterminate circuit, circling left, right and nowhere. Her mouth barely moved beyond the usual meaningless twists. If understanding existed, it was buried so deep any response was impossible.

  Tash rested her cheek in her hand for a moment and regarded Maddy. ‘Pa’s right. It doesn’t matter anymore. That doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt. The truth is, I would love to have Khan, but whether I’d be taking him to help you or for my own ends I don’t know.’

  She stared out the doors to Khan. His head was down again, coat glossy in the sun. She looked back at Maddy, trying to imagine what it would be like if their positions were reversed, if it was Tash’s misfortune to be lying there, with Bubbles on the line. What would she want?

  The comparison wasn’t quite the same. Bubbles was never in Khan’s class. She was an old adored farm horse, and wouldn’t have cared where she lived as long as she remained well fed and watered. Endless days grazing on good pasture? No exercise? Horse nirvana for Bubbles, but it was impossible to know if the same could be said for Khan. For all his breeding he was still a dumb animal, unable to communicate. Yet Tash had visited Springbank enough times since the accident to notice how Khan followed cars up the drive and hung his head over the fence to watch their passengers alight, and whickered in delighted greeting when anyone approached. The horse was hungry for attention, any atte
ntion.

  Would Tash want Bubbles to be that lonely? No, and she would absolutely not want her in danger. Ever.

  ‘If I do this—and I still don’t know if I will—I promise you I’ll look after him. That he’ll get all the love and care you’d have given, and more. Because I want to think that, despite everything, if our lives were reversed you’d do the same for me and Bubbles. Maybe I’m wrong, I don’t know.’ She sniffed and swallowed. ‘I want to believe the friendship we had was worth something. It has to be, otherwise what was the point?’

  Out of things to say, she patted Maddy’s forearm and rose. The fear that she was exploiting someone who couldn’t defend herself remained, and even though it brought no answer, talking had at least felt like a kind of reconciliation.

  Nicola met her halfway across the room, her smile sympathetic when she saw Tash’s tear-stained face. ‘You okay?’

  ‘Not really.’ She held the older woman’s gaze. ‘I’m worried, Nicola.’

  ‘Don’t be. Grant and I have spent a long time discussing this and we honestly feel it’s for the best. We wouldn’t ask if we didn’t.’

  ‘I know. I just …’ She closed her eyes. God, this was horrible. ‘I don’t want to do the wrong thing by her.’

  Nicola took Tash’s hands. She looked at Maddy and back at Tash. ‘I’m sure you’ll make the right decision.’

  Yes, Tash would, but the question was: the right decision for who?

  Chapter 9

  It took Patrick a week to realise something wasn’t right at Springbank. Initially he put it down to Nicola and Grant’s new wariness. To his dismay, Nicola’s nervous regard had seemed to worsen rather than improve, despite Patrick’s best efforts to be cheerful and caring, and prove his lapse was an aberration.

  Early morning wasn’t Patrick’s usual visiting time but he’d been chatting to his dad earlier about Beef Expo—a major agricultural event in the district’s calendar scheduled for early the next month—and it had felt right to ask Grant if he wanted to travel to the main day with them. They’d done so in the past, before Maddy’s accident, and both Patrick and his dad agreed it’d do Grant good to get out and catch up with old friends. Patrick was heading into the ag supplies in town anyway. A call into Springbank wouldn’t cost him anything and it’d be harder for Grant to say no in person than on the phone.

  If it weren’t for this spontaneous decision, Patrick would probably still have had no idea what was wrong. But as he steered his ute to Springbank’s remaining swamp paddock where Nicola had said Grant was working, the feeling he was missing something deepened.

  Then it clicked.

  It was nine thirty in the morning and Khan wasn’t near the house. In fact, the horse was nowhere to be seen. Patrick knew they moved him out of sight during his visits but the horse was otherwise kept close. The eastern side of Khan’s paddock bordered Castlereagh Road and Patrick would glimpse him on his trips into town, his gaze drawn to the animal along with his hatred and guilt. Now that he thought about it, he hadn’t seen the horse for days, perhaps longer. A quick inspection of the lower paddocks revealed only grazing cattle.

  ‘Where’s Khan?’ he asked Grant, who was digging up thistles by hand. At Wiruna they spot-burned or sprayed, depending on the growing cycle, but in the baking summer it was too dangerous for the former and too late for the latter.

  ‘He’s not here.’

  Prickling awareness turned to alarm as Grant kept his gaze deliberately averted.

  ‘What do you mean he’s not here?’ If something had happened to the horse Patrick would be sick. Having Khan harmed so close to his ‘episode’ would be like he’d willed it to happen.

  Stabbing the spade into the dirt, Grant stopped digging and faced Patrick square-on. ‘He’s at Castlereagh. Tash’s taken him.’

  For a long hot moment Patrick was too gobsmacked to speak. Tash? Castlereagh? Why would they do that? Especially after Grant’s talk about how much losing Khan would hurt Maddy.

  ‘What about Maddy?’

  Grant’s mouth thinned and he shook his head.

  Patrick took a step closer, fists clenched. ‘What about Maddy, Grant?’

  ‘You know as well as I do she doesn’t care. How could she?’

  It was Patrick’s turn to shake his head. ‘Don’t say that.’ Tightness threatened to cut off his air. ‘She knows.’ There were things he was certain she didn’t know—him, for starters—but she knew Khan. ‘You said yourself that losing him would hurt her.’

  Grant’s shoulders dropped and he rubbed his face. ‘Saying that was the only way to stop you. You’d never have forgiven yourself if you’d shot him.’

  Patrick stepped away. This was his fault. They’d taken Khan from Maddy and he was the cause. He didn’t know why he was so upset. He’d hated the horse since the accident, harboured violent thoughts towards it, yet here he was in knots because it was gone.

  ‘Tash is a good girl,’ continued Grant. ‘She’ll take care of him. Too much of a waste to have a horse like that doing nothing. Maddy would have hated seeing him unworked. Tash has promised to bring him over every week or so. Not that it’ll do much good, but you never know. He’ll probably become a star of her show like the dog. Did you know Liz’s dog has its own Facebook page? The world’s crazy.’

  Patrick said nothing. He couldn’t. Guilt was scrambling his brain.

  Grant sighed and pulled the spade from the dirt. ‘We thought it’d make it easier on you.’

  ‘I’m not the one that matters. Maddy is.’

  ‘Patrick, son, you can’t keep acting like your life hasn’t changed.’

  He held up his palm. ‘Don’t start this. Not now.’

  ‘You’re a young man.’

  ‘I said don’t.’ Not again. Not while he was reeling.

  Grant’s expression sagged with sorrow and reproof but he remained silent.

  ‘When? When did Tash take him?’

  ‘Tuesday. We spoke to her Monday afternoon.’

  Patrick swallowed and nodded. A week. A whole week and he hadn’t noticed. And he should have, for Maddy. His chest ached as the implications of what they’d done hit him.

  ‘You didn’t ask me.’

  ‘No.’

  Patrick had expected an excuse, an apology that it was a spur of the moment decision or that they didn’t think he’d mind, but the simple ‘no’ was it. He knew why. The day with the rifle had made them think he had no right when it came to Khan, but he had every right. If it weren’t for that horse he’d still have Maddy, still have a future, with all its dreams and glories waiting to unfold.

  ‘I didn’t—’ Patrick closed his eyes. Why lie? In those horrible heartbeats he had absolutely meant to shoot Khan. The intention had been like a rampaging fire in his head and heart. But it was on impulse, a fevered moment devoid of reason. ‘She’s still my fiancée, Grant.’

  ‘Yeah, and we’re her parents.’

  There was an edge to Grant’s voice that Patrick didn’t like. ‘What’s that supposed to mean?’

  ‘Just what I said.’

  He kept staring, his words careful. ‘Your daughter is still my life.’

  ‘We know.’

  ‘So why not consult me about Khan?’

  ‘You know why, son.’ He turned away and resumed digging.

  Patrick regarded Grant’s bent back with something akin to panic. He wanted to keep chasing the hidden meaning but fear and shame held him back. This was his own fault. He should have shown more control.

  He looked north, towards Castlereagh, and wondered what Tash thought she was going to do with the animal. He swung suddenly back to Grant. ‘She’s not planning to ride him, is she?’

  Grant gave him a look like he was crazy. ‘I imagine so.’

  ‘Jesus Christ.’ Patrick strode for the ute and yanked open the door.

  ‘Don’t be an idiot. You know Tash. She’ll be fine.’

  Patrick slammed the door and started the engine. Horrific thoughts were crowdi
ng his head. Thoughts of another person lying hurt because of that horse. He reversed away from Grant. The older man had abandoned his spade and was standing with his hands on his hips. When Patrick dropped the car into first, Grant flung up an arm in exasperation, the gesture clear—go make a fool of yourself then, what did he care.

  Which was pretty frigging rich. Patrick was trying to do the right thing. They’d given Khan to a girl who’d barely been near a horse since she’d left home. A girl who probably had no idea how dangerous the animal could be.

  He breathed through his nostrils in an effort to control himself but there was no control. His head was crowded and his chest tight. Things were slipping away, he could feel it, and it frightened him. Grant’s sharp-edged words about being Maddy’s parents, as though Patrick had no rights, no say, no part. Maddy was to be his wife. A few months’ difference and she would have been. He had every right, every say, every part. She was his frigging life, for better or worse, like it was meant to be.

  He took the turn into Castlereagh too fast, the ute fishtailing momentarily. Realising he needed to calm down, he slowed to a more sensible pace, and drove with his head and window lowered to peer through the windscreen and out the side, heart pounding as he searched for the horse.

  The house appeared empty, which was no surprise. Liz worked during the week and, like his own dad, Peter would be out somewhere on the farm.

  Patrick circled past the shed and around the back of the house. Between his mum and Nicola, he had more than a vague idea about Tash’s arrangements. Basil’s old place had been cleaned up and renovated for Tash to live in and run her business. He hoped that was where she was, safe inside and nowhere near Khan.

  A small hatchback was under the carport. He parked behind it and stepped out, pausing to check his surrounds, but if the horse was nearby, he couldn’t see it. Then a flicker of bright pink caught the corner of his eye. Patrick squinted towards the swamp. Just below the slope something moved slowly. Something … odd. A torso, dressed in pink, floating just above the fringed edges of the golden grass.

  ‘What the?’