by Janet Gover
The flat tone of her voice made Carrie want to cry.
There wasn’t time left for any more conversation. Justin had the truck in position. Carrie opened the back and stepped back. There was nothing for a few moments, just the noise of shuffling hooves inside the truck. Then a brown nose appeared in the doorway, sniffing the air. One of the mares stepped hesitantly out. Her foal followed with a giant leap that made Carrie and Justin laugh.
Quinn of course was taking photos, but it seemed to Carrie her usual joy and enthusiasm was missing.
A few more seconds and the horses were all streaming out into Justin’s securely fenced paddock. The stallion immediately raised his voice in a strident whinny. An equally loud challenge echoed from the stables.
‘I guess Beckett knows there’s a new man in town,’ Justin said with a smile.
‘Beckett?’ Quinn asked, although Carrie could tell her mind was elsewhere.
‘He’s Justin’s current stud,’ she explained. ‘But he’s getting on in years.’
‘What are you going to do with him? You won’t …’ Quinn asked, suddenly pensive.
‘Of course not,’ Justin said. ‘I’d never do that. I know someone who has admired him for a while. One phone call and I’m sure I’ll find a buyer for him.’
‘That’s good.’
The three of them stood for a few moments watching the horses as they began to explore their new home. The mares were mostly interested in the water trough and in tasting the sweet green grass. The foals skittered about, short fluffy tails wagging in excitement. As for the stallion, he began to check out the fence line. He broke into a long flowing trot, head held high, his knotted mane and tail streaming out behind him. He looked magnificent and very much a blue blood. Carrie squeezed Justin’s hand. This should have been a joyous moment, but it wasn’t. At last Quinn broke the silence.
‘The other trucks will be here soon with the rest of the mob, but I think I’d better get going. I have a long drive in front of me.’
‘You’re heading back tonight?’ Carrie asked, really beginning to understand just how much she was going to miss Quinn.
‘It’ll be easier that way.’
Carrie threw her arms around Quinn and hugged her hard. ‘Are you sure?’ she whispered.
She felt Quinn nod. ‘I’ll stay in touch,’ Quinn said. ‘And … look after him.’ Her voice broke.
She wasn’t talking about the stallion.
‘I will,’ Carrie said. ‘You take care of yourself.’
Justin hugged Quinn too, and then she climbed into her golden Humvee and drove away. The last thing they saw was a hand waving through the window as the vehicle was enveloped in a cloud of dust.
‘I can’t believe she’s gone,’ Carrie said softly. ‘There’s so much I have to thank her for.’
‘We both do,’ Justin said, squeezing her hand. ‘Maybe she’ll come back for a visit sometime.’
They both knew she probably wouldn’t.
A sound behind them brought their attention back to the horses. The stallion was standing close to the fence, his head raised as he surveyed his surroundings. His ears twitched as he heard the sound of another truck approaching. He whinnied loudly.
‘Here comes the rest of his harem,’ Justin said.
Within a couple of hours, it was over. The brumbies were all safe in Justin’s well-fenced paddocks. The foals were sleeping off the exhausting journey. The mares were enjoying grazing the sweet grass. Even Mariah’s Son had begun to settle. One by one the other trucks had left, with agreement to meet up at Tyangi next day to undo any damage done to the park.
But Carrie didn’t want to wait that long. ‘Let’s get back there,’ she said and Justin agreed, knowing it wasn’t the brumbies or the work she was thinking about.
The drive to the national park had never seemed longer. When they got to the gorge, Dan’s Land Rover wasn’t there.
The campsite was barely recognisable. There was just an empty place where Quinn’s tent had been. Her camp stove and other little luxuries were gone. The fire pit was black and cold. Only Dan’s tent remained, standing alone on the bare earth.
‘I wonder where he’s gone?’ Justin said.
‘Maybe he went back to the ranger station,’ Carrie responded. ‘We could stop there on the way out. Make sure he’s all right.’
‘He’s not all right,’ Justin said, moving close to her and placing a comforting arm around her shoulders. ‘I wouldn’t be if you left.’
‘There must be something we can do to help him.’
‘There’s nothing you can do.’ Justin squeezed her gently. ‘I love that you want to try. But you’re not the one he needs right now.’
Carrie nodded, knowing he was right.
‘Let’s give him a day or two. Then we can make sure he isn’t too lonely. Maybe you can get him riding again or something.’
She didn’t think that was likely. She was afraid Dan would slide back into the solitary life he had led before Quinn came. She was determined that was not going to happen. After all, she had made a promise to Quinn, and she intended to keep it.
Chapter Thirty-Four
It didn’t take long for nature to take back her own.
Dan stood in the gorge, looking for some sign of what had happened there. The stockyard was gone. He’d taken that down in a fury of hard work in the first few days after Quinn left. He’d hoped that sweat and exhaustion would help him sleep at night.
It hadn’t.
He’d lain in his bed, listening to the sounds of the night, and thinking of that last night with Quinn. Wondering if there was anything more he could have said or done to hold her – and knowing that there was not.
Jack and Doctor Adam and some of the men from town had come to the park to help demolish the yard and cart the timber and iron back to the mine from where it had come. Dan had a feeling they had come to keep him company too. Justin and Carrie had seemed determined that he should not spend too much time alone. Even after the work was done, Carrie had dropped by to see him a couple of times. She had invited him to dinner with her and Justin. She’d even talked about continuing his riding lessons. He could feel her sympathy, and while he appreciated the efforts, he wanted none of it.
Since the yards had vanished, he had spent his days alone. Doing the job that he loved. Thomas Lawson had vanished back into whatever government office he’d come from, muttering darkly under his breath, but too afraid of adverse publicity to take action against Dan. There was a perverse irony in that. Once again, public opinion had saved him from retribution after disobeying an order.
He’d looked after some visiting tourists and cut another firebreak. The latter activity had made him more restless, not less. With each swing of the axe, he remembered the last time he’d cut a firebreak.
What sort of park ranger are you?
Quinn had been all fire and indignation in that second meeting. Who would have thought they would have ended up as lovers … not just lovers … in love.
There was nothing left of her now. Just his memories and her name scrawled in his book. He had found that the day after she left. How like Quinn to always keep her word.
Dan turned away from the place where the campsite had been and drove down to the billabong. Now that the brumbies were gone, the grass was growing quite lush and green by the waterhole. The kangaroos were enjoying having the place to themselves again. They were appearing now in even greater numbers than before. They turned their faces towards him as he approached, then bounded away, tails held high.
He sat on the high rock, from where he had once taken aim at the brumby stallion. He remembered the feelings as he raised the rifle to his eye. The sweating and the shakes had left him now. The memories still came in the dark of the night, when he was lying awake and alone. He still saw the little girl with the dark eyes, but the debilitating guilt had been replaced with a simple sadness. The accusing voices were not so loud now. They had no more power over him.
Tha
t was Quinn’s great gift to him – and he would always thank her for that.
Dan raised his eyes to squint at the sun almost directly above him in the cloudless blue arc of sky. Now that the roos had left, the billabong was his if he felt like a swim. But there were memories waiting for him down by the water as well. Feeling restless, he left the billabong and began driving further into the park. The wheel ruts were still there, perhaps a little more overgrown due to lack of use. He hadn’t been back to this special place since the night he came here with Quinn. He climbed to the edge of the escarpment, and sat down on the big flat rock.
He looked out over the vast plain to the sandstone monolith, which now seemed stripped of all its healing powers. He thought about the night he had brought Quinn here. How she listened when he told her about Fallujah. About the little girl who died. She hadn’t judged or condemned him. He loved her for that. Images began crowding his mind of Quinn as they made love here under the starlight. His body ached for her now. His heart ached. His very soul ached.
Dan got to his feet and left the high place. There was no peace for him there now, without Quinn.
He got back into his car and began driving. He headed out of the park and onto the road that lead to the Fraser Stud. When he arrived he didn’t have to look far to find Justin and Carrie. He walked over to the big exercise yard, and leaned on the fence to watch.
Justin was inside the wooden railed exercise yard, leaning back against the rails, his hat tipped back from his face. He was watching with critical eyes as Carrie guided her horse in wide, smooth circles in the centre of the yard. The brumby stallion was instantly recognisable – but he was a different animal now. His coat gleamed from regular brushing. His mane and tail floated on the air, free now of knots and dust. His hooves were neatly shod, and his muscular body exuded good health and loving care. But the change in him was more than just physical. The big horse was bending himself happily to Carrie’s gentle control. As he moved, his ears flicked back and forth listening for her voice. He was just as magnificent as he had been – but he was no longer a brumby. It was a remarkable transformation.
‘It’s hard to believe that he was wild such a short time ago,’ Dan said as he leaned on the fence rails beside Justin.
‘She’s some sort of witch,’ Justin said, waving Carrie over. ‘She has us both under her spell.’
‘Isn’t he wonderful.’ Carrie’s eyes shone as she slid down off the horse and patted his neck. She was rewarded with a playful shove that sent her cannoning into Justin, who caught her easily.
‘I sometimes think it isn’t me she loves, so much as the horse,’ Justin said with mock despair, as he draped his arm around Carrie’s shoulders.
Carrie jabbed him in the ribs with her elbow, and he laughed.
Dan was pleased to see them so happy, but it only served to heighten his own loneliness.
‘I don’t suppose you’ve heard from Quinn?’ The words were out before he could stop them.
Justin and Carrie exchanged a glance.
‘We e-mail,’ Carrie said hesitantly.
Dan clenched his fist. He wasn’t sure how that news made him feel. He was glad she hadn’t lost touch with her friends, but it hurt that the others still had something of her – while he had nothing.
‘It’s all right,’ he assured Carrie. ‘I was just wondering how she was doing.’
‘Fine, I think. She’s been staying with her parents between jobs, trying to reconnect with them a bit.’
He was so pleased to hear that. ‘And the story about the brumbies?’
‘It’s due to appear in Australian Geographic in a few weeks,’ Justin told him. ‘We are using that as a launch pad to bring Mariah’s Son out of hiding and back into the world.’
Justin’s voice was full of hope and enthusiasm. He was achieving his dream. Dan was happy for him.
Carrie glanced up at the sun. ‘It’s early, but we can finish this now,’ she said. ‘We’re so pleased to see you, Dan. Please stay for dinner.’
‘No. Thanks. I just came by to see how things were with the horses.’ That was a lie and they all knew it.
Justin and Carrie spent some time showing him how well the brumbies had settled. Some of the mares were gone. Justin had found their owners. The younger brumbies were starting to behave like civilised animals, and Carrie had high hopes that most would make good stock horses given time. They would never be stud book animals, but many did carry unofficial Fraser blood. They’d bring good money when they were ready to sell.
It seemed the story had a happy ending for almost everyone.
‘Do you want me to pass a message to Quinn when we e-mail?’ Carrie asked in a whisper as they said their goodbyes.
‘No,’ he said.
Driving back to the park, Dan paused at a crossroads. To his right was the park, where he could continue his solitary and safe existence. If he turned left, the road would lead him to Coorah Creek. He’d been uncomfortable around people ever since his return from Iraq. Apart from those days he had spent with Justin and Carrie and Quinn. Maybe it was time he re-joined the rest of the world. He slipped the vehicle into gear and turned left. He would go to the pub for a beer and some of Trish’s fine cooking. If there were people there he could talk to them. If not – well, he’d spent enough nights alone. Another one wasn’t going to kill him. At least he was making an effort. Quinn would be pleased if she knew.
Chapter Thirty-Five
‘Rachel, there’s some mail here for you.’
Quinn’s mother had always refused to call her daughter by anything other than the name she had given her at her christening. Quinn had long since become used to it.
She had often stayed with her parents between jobs. After all, she had no place of her own. The house she’d shared with her ex-husband had been sold long ago. It seemed foolish to spend money on another house, or even a flat, when she was never there. Her parents’ home in an affluent Brisbane suburb was large enough to accommodate her visits but this was the longest she’d ever stayed between jobs and she and her mother were starting to get on each other’s nerves. They’d always had this tendency to rub each other the wrong way. Especially since Kim’s short time with them.
Quinn’s agent had come up with some ideas for her next project. He’d also suggested a couple of magazine jobs. They only took a few days and they paid well. Quinn had accepted a couple of them, just to get away for a while. She’d done her job well as she always did, but nothing had inspired her. Her agent had looked at the photographs, which were good, but lacked her usual brilliance, and suggested some time off.
She’d rented a holiday flat at the beach for a few days, just to give herself and her parents a break from each other. But that had proved to be a pretty bad idea. During the day, she had sat on the beach, looking out at the vast expanse of shining blue water, thinking about Coorah Creek and the rugged beauty of the outback. At night, she had simply lain awake in the big, empty bed, thinking about Dan.
‘Rachel? Did you hear me?’ Her mother’s voice betrayed her impatience.
‘Coming,’ she called, and unwound herself from her position on the couch. She put her laptop on the coffee table and headed for the kitchen.
‘What is it?’ she asked as she walked into her mother’s immaculate domain. Like her daughter, Margaret Quinn liked to cook. But unlike her daughter, she cooked in a restrained and methodical fashion, so that even in mid-preparation the kitchen never seemed less than spotless. She was busy now preparing food to take to a neighbour’s party. Quinn guessed that like most of her mother’s meals, this would be wholesome and well presented, but unlikely to have people asking for the recipe.
‘Here you go.’
Quinn barely glanced at the brown manila envelope her mother had placed in the centre of the table. She had been expecting this for a few days now, and wasn’t at all sure she wanted to open it.
‘Thanks.’
‘Is that your latest article?’
‘Yes
.’
Quinn could feel her mother’s frustration
‘Aren’t you going to open it?’
‘Later, I guess.’ Quinn walked to the fridge and opened it, not looking for anything in particular, but rather trying to avoid the conversation she knew was coming.
‘May I see it?’
She wanted to say no. She really didn’t want to open the envelope. She knew exactly what she would see. She’d written the story and prepared the photographs soon after her return from Coorah Creek. There had been a lot of heartache in every one. Heartache that had not faded in the weeks since.
But refusing to open the envelope was not going to stop the pain.
‘Sure.’ She pulled the water jug from the fridge and went in search of a glass.
Her mother opened the envelope, her carefully manicured nails bright against the plain brown wrapper. She removed the glossy magazine and flicked quickly through the pages.
‘Oh. You’re the feature article!’
Quinn didn’t say anything. She tried to avert her eyes, but the pictures leaped off the page at her. The brumbies. Carrie and the stallion. Justin, every inch the stockman as he galloped behind the fleeing mob. And Dan …
‘Oh, my. These are very good, Rachel. But wasn’t it a bit difficult, camping out there in the wilds?’ Her mother was never happy if she was more than a kilometre from the nearest hair salon.
‘Not at all, Mum,’ she said. ‘It’s very beautiful out there.’
‘I don’t even want to think about what you had for a bathroom.’
Quinn drained her glass and rinsed it in the sink. There was no way she would ever discuss camping ablutions with her mother. Margaret would probably have palpitations.
‘The people look very nice,’ Margaret continued. ‘You talked about this girl, Carrie. And Justin. But you never said much about this ranger … Dan.’
Quinn saw the speculative look on her mother’s face. Margaret was no fool.
‘He’s a good man,’ Quinn said, trying to keep her voice sounding normal. ‘An ex-serviceman. He served in Iraq and it’s left him with some unpleasant memories.’