Home On the Station/Noah & Kate/Daniel & Lily/Luke & Erin

by Barbara Hannay

  ‘How lovely.’

  Noah’s smile grew warmer. ‘They were perfect for a lost and grieving little boy.’

  ‘And you chose one?’

  ‘Of course. A fat little blue-speckled ball of fluff. A cattle dog, with silky ears and a white tip on the end of his tail. And I loved Angus instantly, because he let me sleep with the pup tucked in bed with me.’

  After a pause, she said, ‘I think Angus was always a lot kinder than he liked to let on.’

  ‘No doubt about that. He was a true rough-diamond. A tough old cattleman with blunt manners and a soft heart.’

  ‘Some might say he had a soft head, leaving a girl half his property.’

  It wasn’t the most diplomatic thing to say. Noah, wisely, didn’t comment. Instead, he shifted his position. And the subject. With one foot hitched on the side of the log, he looked out at the water. ‘Look—black swans.’

  Kate followed his gaze. A pair of swans had come out of the shadows, gliding silently, elegantly, into the moonlight. ‘Swan Lake,’ she whispered.

  ‘Pity Liv’s asleep.’

  ‘Oh, yes. She’d love them.’

  They watched in silence as one of the swans lowered its long neck and fished underwater, dark feathers glistening in the moonlight.

  Noah said, ‘Liv claims that today has been her best birthday ever.’

  ‘I’m so glad she was able to ring Liane.’

  ‘Poor kid would have been cut up if we’d got all the way to the top of that hill and still couldn’t pick up a mobile connection.’ He let out a heavy sigh. ‘At least Liane came up trumps.’

  ‘How do you mean?’

  ‘For once, she didn’t upset Liv. She actually said the kinds of things a mother’s supposed to say to her daughter on her birthday.’

  Kate was shocked into silence.

  She remembered when she’d been Liv’s age. She would wake early on her birthday mornings and run to her mother’s bedroom to sit in the middle of the enormous double bed and open her presents. Her mother would hug her and tell her about the day she was born, and what a sweet little baby she’d been.

  Her mother always told her the same story—how her father had cried with happiness when he’d first seen her. And every year Kate would ask her mother the same question: ‘Did Daddy say I was cute?’

  ‘Cuter than a bug’s ear, my darling.’

  Those birthday mornings were stand-out golden memories from her childhood.

  Poor little Liv.

  She saw the unhappy set of Noah’s mouth, and her heart seemed to slip from its moorings.

  ‘Don’t worry about Liv,’ she said. ‘She’s very resilient and remarkably well-balanced, considering the upheavals in her recent life.’

  He laughed bitterly. ‘“Upheavals”. That’s a polite way of putting it.’

  Kate wasn’t sure how to respond. Discussing Noah’s marriage felt like an invasion of his privacy. But it had obviously caused him a great deal of grief, and she wondered if she should come right out and ask if he wanted to talk about it.

  As she watched the swans glide into the shadow of an overhanging tree, she said carefully, ‘I’m very sorry you’ve been so unhappy, Noah.’

  ‘It happens.’ Abruptly, he got to his feet and looked back towards the camp. ‘Looks like Steve’s finished the washing up. I think he’s hit the sack.’

  Kate stood too. So this was it. Their friendly conversation was over.

  It was perfectly understandable. Discussing Noah’s marriage was moving out of friendship territory. It wasn’t nearly as safe as sharing fond memories of their parents.

  She followed the direction of his gaze and saw the dull red glow of their campfire, the circle of rocks around the fire, and then the truck. She could see the triangular outline of the small tent where she and Liv slept and, on the ground nearby, the bulky shape of Steve in his swag.

  A little further away on a barbed-wire fence clothes-line, the jeans they’d washed out this evening were waiting for tomorrow’s sun.

  The little scene tugged at Kate’s heartstrings. She’d really begun to enjoy this simple, challenging lifestyle. She didn’t mind rising at dawn. She loved the early morning calls of magpies and kookaburras and the smell of bread toasting over an open fire.

  She’d become used to the simple daily rhythms of breaking camp and moving on, stopping for lunch and to rest the cattle in the heat of the day, and then pushing on to set up another camp.

  She knew it couldn’t last. Sooner or later, they would reach Roma, the cattle would be sold and she would fly back to England.

  She didn’t want to think about that. She turned to Noah. ‘Goodnight,’ she said softly, so softly it was almost a whisper.

  To her surprise, his hand clasped her elbow and he leaned in to her and kissed her cheek. ‘Thanks for everything, Kate.’

  As his lips touched her skin, a sweet shiver rushed over her, and she held her breath, expecting him to step away.

  He didn’t.

  An ache flowered inside her, sweeter and deeper than anything she’d known, a longing stronger than anything she’d believed possible. Without stopping to question the right or wrong of it, she put her arms around his neck and drew his head down to hers.

  His arms quickly encircled her, gathering her in. His lips found hers with a thrilling, hungry impatience, and he held her so tightly she could feel the wild beating of his heart.

  She wanted to stay here beside the billabong, locked in his arms for ever.

  But before their tender intimacy could give way to dangerous passion, Noah lifted away from her.

  ‘Kate… sweet Kate.’

  No!

  The fierce regret in his voice triggered a storm-burst inside her. Her knees buckled and she fell against him, burying her face in his shirt to hide her tears. How could she have made the same mistake twice? What must Noah think? This was so much like last time. Almost exactly like last time.

  His lips brushed her cheek with the gentlest of kisses.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she cried against the solid bulk of his shoulder. ‘I know you didn’t want—’

  ‘Shh. It was just a kiss.’ He cradled her head against him and he held her close.

  His fingers were in her hair, sifting strands, his lips against her forehead, and she felt a shuddering sigh reverberate through the length of his body.

  With unhappy prescience, Kate knew what that sigh meant. No matter how much Noah desired her, he could not love her. His heart was in shreds, torn apart by another, and any love he’d been able to salvage belonged to his daughter. He had nothing to spare for an English girl who kept dropping, uninvited, into his life.

  She stepped away, and gave a shaky little laugh to show that she’d stopped behaving like a watering pot.

  Without another word, Noah took her arm and linked it through his. ‘The moon’s gone behind the clouds. I can’t have you falling over in the dark.’

  She felt shaken and thoroughly miserable as he guided her back to the camp, skirting the fallen log that had been their seat.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  KATE KNEW SOMETHING was wrong as soon as she saw Noah the next afternoon. He strode into the camp, head down, mouth set, and without a word to her or to Liv he went straight to the truck and took out the maps of the stock routes. Crouching in the shade of a mulga bush, he studied them carefully.

  Finally, he looked up and his face was a picture of gloom as he shook his head.

  ‘Is there a problem?’ Kate asked.

  He stood, and tossed the maps back into the glove box. ‘The bore’s dry. Looks like the pump’s rusted out, so I can’t even try to fix it.’

  A dry bore meant no water for the cattle.

  ‘I was depending on getting water here.’ He took his hat off and wiped his perspiring forehead with his shirt sleeve. ‘I can’t see any hope of finding water until we get to Gidgee Creek, and that’s two days away.’

  ‘The cattle can last for three days without water, can�
�t they?’ Steve had told her that.

  ‘At a pinch. But there’s always a danger they’ll rush when they finally catch scent of the water. And, with only the two of us, it’s going to be hard to hold them.’

  Kate didn’t hesitate. ‘Can I help?’ A few days ago she’d finally convinced Noah that she could take over the lunch-time watch. While the cattle and men had rested, she’d mounted Missy and circled the mob, making sure that none escaped. She’d been thrilled to be allowed to make this small contribution, like a proper member of the droving team. It had become part of her daily routine.

  Now, however, Noah shook his head. ‘Don’t even think about it, Kate. I don’t want you anywhere near cattle if there’s any chance of a rush. We’re talking about a serious stampede. Your job will be to keep the truck and horse-float well out of the way. And keep Liv safe, too.’

  ‘Yes, of course.’ Kate looked down at Liv, smiled and ruffled her hair. ‘Let’s hope it doesn’t come to that.’

  When Kate reached Gidgee Creek two days later, she followed Noah’s instructions and set up the camp well off the main track. She was reading aloud to Liv, when she heard the roll of thunder in the distance.

  Her first reaction was to search the sky. It was blue and clear apart from a few fluffy white clouds on the horizon, but she didn’t know much about thunderstorms in the Outback. Could they arrive without clouds or rain?

  Liv jumped to her feet and stood with her head tilted, listening.

  ‘What do you think that is, Liv?’

  The little girl shook her head. ‘Maybe the cattle are coming too fast.’

  A rush? Kate jumped to her feet and looked again in the direction of the sound. Already a cloud of dust foamed on the horizon.

  ‘Quick,’ she told Liv, remembering Noah’s instructions. ‘We need to get into the truck.’

  Already, the thundering hooves were pounding closer. Leaning from the truck, Kate saw a roaring tide of beasts galloping down the track.

  Horrified, she watched helplessly. It was like watching a tsunami, a huge wall of water coming closer, and knowing there was nothing she could do to stop it.

  The noise was terrible. The ground shook. Slipping her arm around Liv, she couldn’t think of one comforting thing to say to the child. She had never imagined a stampede could be so terrifying. She was horrified to think that Noah and Steve were out there somewhere in that terrible fury.

  Then suddenly Liv screamed, ‘Daddy!’

  Kate heard the shotgun crack of a stockwhip and she saw the blur of a figure on horseback flying down the wings of the mob.

  ‘I think that’s Steve,’ she shouted to Liv. The rider was wirier than Noah.

  He was trying to turn the mob, and some of the beasts did appear to veer off as he confronted them, but it was like trying to turn back the ocean.

  Be careful, Steve. Please be careful.

  Almost obscured by the cloud of dust, Steve galloped on ahead of the tide of cattle. At high speed, he turned bravely, facing the herd with his long stockwhip snaking and cracking. Then, to Kate’s horror, his horse stumbled and Steve pitched heavily into the dust.

  She and Liv screamed in unison, but a split second later Kate shoved the truck door open and leapt out. The panicking herd would trample Steve where he lay, and she had to help.

  But what could she do out there?

  She stood, frozen by her horrifying dilemma, and then she saw another flashing shape appear out of the dust cloud.

  Noah.

  He flew down the flanks of the cattle.

  Pressing her fist to her mouth to hold back another scream, she watched Noah’s horse thunder up to Steve.

  Recklessly, Noah threw himself sideways. In one seamless, astonishing motion he reached down to grab Steve’s outstretched arm. The boy, clearly understanding the plan, struggled to his feet and managed to jump just in time for Noah to haul him up like a sack of potatoes.

  In a flash, the horse was off again, racing out of the path of the charging front line, while Steve clung to Noah’s back, one leg hanging limply.

  Swinging around in a wide arc, Noah galloped up to Kate.

  ‘Take him,’ he yelled.

  She was already there, helping poor Steve to stumble from the horse with a shriek of pain. She had often wondered how she would cope in a crisis. Being bogged in a creek was nothing compared with this potentially life-and-death moment.

  While Noah took off again, disappearing into the dust as he chased after the roaring mob, she was surprised to realise that her initial panic had frozen. No doubt later her fear would return, but for now her major focus was Steve. The poor fellow was slumping onto the ground, white-faced.

  She knelt beside him and took his hand. ‘Where do you hurt most?’

  ‘I think I’ve busted my leg.’ He spoke through clenched teeth, and he pointed to his right leg where his foot stuck out at a sickening angle.

  ‘What about your back, your neck?’

  ‘Shoulder hurts, but I think it’s just bruises.’ Bravely, he cracked a crooked grin. ‘Reckon I was lucky.’

  ‘I reckon you were, Steve. Now, let’s get your boots off.’

  That was easier said than done. Steve’s right foot and ankle had already started to swell, and Kate had to run for a knife to cut the elastic sides of his fine-leathered boot. ‘Sorry,’ she murmured as she eased it off, knowing it was agony for him.

  As she worked, her mind raced ahead. She would need to splint Steve’s leg and treat him for shock, so she had to get the first-aid kit and blankets. ‘Now, don’t move, while I see what I can find to make you more comfortable.’

  She hurried to the truck and she saw Liv staring wide-eyed from the cabin. ‘Is Steve going to die, Kate?

  ‘Of course not, darling. He’ll be fine.’

  Kate hoped this was true. She knew Steve was in terrible pain. He could have internal injuries, too, but she didn’t know how to check for them.

  When she got back, he was still trying to apologise. ‘I’ve let the boss down, and you too, Kate. Stupid to get hurt.’

  ‘Please, don’t worry about a thing. Just take it easy.’

  The boy groaned and covered his eyes with a grimy hand.

  ‘You mightn’t believe it, but that was my first buster in years. My horse stepped in a pothole and went down in the forequarters. Flipped me straight out of the saddle.’

  ‘There, there… It’s not your fault.’ Kate tried to sound reassuring. She could see beads of sweat on the boy’s brow and he looked paler than ever. He was agitated, talking faster than normal.

  And, true to form, he wasn’t nearly as concerned about his injuries as he was about the embarrassment of his fall and the disruption it might cause.

  She glanced back over her shoulder to the rushing mob and the crisis Noah was facing. How could he possibly handle the mob single-handed?

  What if he were hurt too?

  I mustn’t panic.

  For now, she had to concentrate on Steve.

  Noah’s heart pounded and he gulped sharp breaths of dusty air as he chased the head of the mob. He thanked God that he’d chosen his best stock-horse today. He needed every last ounce of the animal’s sure-footed, cattle-wise courage.

  When he reached the leaders, he turned his fearless mount straight into the pressing, maddened mob. Stockwhip cracking, he cut out a section of about a hundred beasts and headed them west. He needed to spread the herd along the creek, so they wouldn’t pile up and get hurt, or trample each other in their scramble to the water.

  As he turned back again to cut out another section, his attention was caught by the sound of a motor. He peered through the pall of dust and saw a trail-bike rider working the mob about a hundred metres away.

  Someone had come to help. Probably the owner of the property they were travelling through, attracted by all the noise and dust. Noah sent up quick thanks.

  Together, without wasting a single word or signal in greeting, horseman and bike rider worked the mob. The
trail bike whined and revved, its rider negotiating fallen logs and banks as skilfully as Noah on his horse, and they went back and forth, turning the cattle and spreading them along the watercourse.

  Finally the cattle were dispersed, all of them finding a place to drink.

  Finally, they should settle down.

  Only when he was confident that at last the worst was over, Noah rode up to his saviour—a sturdy, balding fellow of around forty with a grin as bright and wide as the moon. Noah dismounted and held out his hand. ‘Thanks so much, mate. I don’t know how this might have ended if you hadn’t turned up.’

  ‘I could see you were in a spot of bother.’ The stranger shook Noah’s hand. ‘Brad Jameson.’

  ‘Ah, yes. This is your land we’re passing through. Pleased to meet you. Noah Carmody. I’m bringing this mob through from Radnor station.’

  ‘Radnor? I heard that old Angus Harrington passed away.’

  ‘That’s right.’

  ‘Sorry to hear that. He was a good mate of my father’s.’

  Noah nodded, then cast an anxious glance back in the direction of Kate’s campsite. ‘The young fellow with me came off his horse. I’m a bit worried about him. If you don’t mind, I need to get back to see how he’s fairing.’

  ‘I’ll come with you,’ said Brad. ‘The homestead’s close by. You might need the Flying Doc.’

  Noah’s concern for Steve mounted as he raced back to the camp. The rush had been bad enough, but for Steve to be thrown in the front of the stampeding mob was unthinkable. Noah had never seen anything like it in all his years working cattle.

  He’d had no time to think.

  And now, as everything that had happened began to sink in, he realised that he could practice high speed pick-ups from horseback for another six months and never repeat today’s lucky fluke.

  Poor Steve.

  He wouldn’t be able to ride now. Noah had known, when he’d dropped the white-faced boy into Kate’s waiting arms, that the kid hadn’t a hope in hell of mounting up in a day’s time. And there was no way Noah could drive a thousand head of cattle into the Roma sale yards on his own. Which meant this could be it…