by Mandy Magro
But neither then, nor now, would Mister Casanova ever give her the commitment she’d expect from a man she was intimate with, so it just wasn’t an option. She really needed to get a grip before she saw him at the funeral. Shaking her head, she tossed her ponytail over her shoulder and got back on the quad bike, followed by Tiny. Swiftly changing gears, she headed down the long gravel drive, away from the memories of Zane, and towards the bottom paddock, keen to get everything done before sundown.
CHAPTER 5
Waking super early, with her mind troubled, experience had taught Emma that the best way to heal and deal was to go deep into nature, on the back of a horse. So, the slashing finished, the quad bike serviced, her old girl topped up with oil, the cattle checked, and all the horses fed, she felt a little more in control and had achieved a lot more than this time yesterday. Totally in the moment as she and Bundy cantered across the flats, she startled when Johnny Cash’s ‘I Walk the Line’ rang out through the serenity of the scrub.
Giving Bundy a gentle cue to woo up, she grabbed her mobile from the saddlebag. She smiled knowing she was about to hear Renee’s voice. ‘Hey, my beautiful soul sister, about bloody time, I thought you’d slipped off the edge of the earth or been abducted by aliens.’
‘Hey, Em, half my bloody luck. Sorry I’ve taken so long to call you. I’ve been doing back-to-back shifts and I’ve finally come up for some air.’
Renee groaned melodramatically and Emma could picture her rolling her big brown eyes. Two long weeks between coffee catchups was almost a record for them. ‘No worries, hun, I know you’re a busy gal. The way the hospital has to run with so little staff is a joke.’
‘You’re not telling me anything I don’t already know. I feel like I’m one of those zombies out of The Walking Dead at the moment.’ She chortled then snorted. ‘But anyways, enough about my problems … tell me, has everything eased off a bit now?’
‘Yeah, sort of. I still find it hard to believe he’s gone, just like that, and as harsh as it sounds, I’m not really upset about it. More relieved in a way.’ She huffed. ‘I’m going to hell for saying that out loud, aren’t I?’
‘No way, Em, and if you do, I’ll come with you.’
They both laughed.
‘Why should you be grieving when the man put you through hell and back the entire time you were married to Mister Idiot Features? It’s no wonder you’re feeling a weight lift.’
Emma bit back a cynical laugh – little did Renee know just how much Peter had put her through. She’d wanted to confide in her bestie for years, but Peter’s threat had stopped her. ‘I just feel for Riley, especially as it seems to be the only thing people are talking about around town. She really did love the man, warts and all.’
‘Understandably so; he was her grandfather. Can’t pick your family.’ Renee sighed. ‘So how are things with her now? Have they calmed down at all?’
Cradling the phone between her shoulder and ear, Emma readjusted the reins. ‘Not really, we had a doozy of an argument the other night, over her boyfriend, again – two days later and she still can’t stand the sight of me.’
‘Oh, Em, it will get better – just hang in there. You’re a good mum and you do your best for her. Maybe not now, but one day she’ll look back and be grateful for all the tough love you’ve had to dish out of late.’
‘I hope you’re right, Rennie. It breaks my heart, us being like this, but I can’t let her get away with things when she’s in the wrong.’
‘I know, it’s hard, but you’re strong and you got this.’
‘Thanks for the vote of confidence.’
‘My pleasure, treasure … that little ratbag doesn’t know how good she’s got it, having a cool mum like you.’ The sound of the whistling kettle Emma had bought Renee for Christmas carried down the line. ‘Do you think it’d help if I tried to talk to her?’
Emma hadn’t even thought about it. ‘You’d do that?’
‘Of course, especially seeing as she’s my godchild. With Michael out of the picture, I kinda feel it’s my place to step in if you need help.’
‘I think it might be worth a shot.’
‘Well, in that case, consider it done.’
Emma bit back a sob. ‘Thanks, Rennie, I don’t know where I’d be without you.’
‘Probably up shit creek without a paddle.’ Renee chuckled. ‘I’ve always got your back, and anytime you have one too many, I’ll hold your hair back too, if need be.’
Hazy memories of paying the price after one too many down the pub with Renee made Emma grin and grimace at the same time – those days were long gone. ‘Ditto, and speaking of that …’ Emma’s throat closed up and it took her a moment to free her voice.
‘Yeah?’ It was said with concerned caution.
‘I have something I really need to talk to you about.’ Emma spat the words out as if toxic.
‘Shoot, hun, I’m all ears.’
Emma frowned, and even though she was in the middle of the scrub, very much alone, she still glanced over her shoulder – a habit she’d never been able to shake since that fateful night. ‘No, not right now … I can’t talk about it on the phone.’ Her heart thumped so hard she could hear it over the clip clop of Bundy’s new shoes, ones she’d spent the good part of the morning putting on.
‘Oh shit, this sounds serious. Has Michael gone and upset you again, because if he has, I’d be more than happy to go and kick him in the nuts. I’ve wanted to do it for years …’
‘There’ll be no need for that, but thanks.’ Smiling, Emma sucked in a desperate breath.
‘You okay, Em?’
‘Yes and no.’
The line was quiet for a few moments; the ding of a teaspoon hitting the side of a cup broke the silence. ‘Right, well, now I’m really worried about you, so let me scull a strong coffee so I can get my wits about me and put some clothes on so I don’t walk out the front door butt naked, and I’ll be there in about half an hour.’
Renee had always been a bit of a nudist, much to Emma’s amusement, and the postman’s, who had arrived at Renee’s door to find her half asleep and totally naked – it had been the talk of the town for weeks. ‘No, don’t rush. How bouts you come over around six and I’ll cook us some dinner, if you like.’
‘Yeah, I’d like that a lot. I’ll bring the wine – sounds like we’re gonna need it.’
The memory of the last time she and Renee had caught up for a wine and had ended up drinking almost two bottles between them made Emma’s stomach turn. ‘It’s a date.’
‘You sure whatever you need to talk to me about can wait a few hours?’
She’d already waited almost half her life, so a few hours weren’t going to make a world of difference. ‘A hundred and ten percent positive, Rennie … and don’t drive like a maniac to get over here either; the roos have been out in force the past week.’
‘Okay, I promise to drive like Granny May, minus the two phone books she sits on to see over the steering wheel. I’ll see you around six.’
‘Ha-ha, there’s no denying you’ve got a groovy granny. Love ya, hun.’
‘Love you too, Em. See you soon. Bye.’
‘Bye, lovely.’ Slipping her phone into the saddlebag, Emma dragged in a deep breath, and slowly blew it away. Just revealing to Renee she had something important to talk about with her made her feel a little lighter. She could only imagine what actually saying it out loud was going to feel like – terrifying and liberating all at once.
At this time of the day there was too much sun to see into the distance, but she could just make out the tops of the mountains that cradled the aqua-blue sea that rolled into the white-sand shoreline Silvergum was famous for. She really needed to get down to Crystal Beach more often, but the recent sighting of a massive saltwater croc had scared her, and almost every other local, off swimming there. Even wandering along the beach wasn’t the safest – the joys of living in Northern Queensland where everything wanted to bite you. With the roof of the h
omestead coming into sight, Bundy picked up pace. His steps rhythmic, the saddle creaked beneath Emma. She looked to where her lasso hung at the ready from the saddlebag. Hopefully, she’d get one last chance to put it to work before heading home.
Spotting a large tree stump poking out of the long grass, a shiver charged through her fingertips as they coiled around the rope. To be able to lasso from a horse was a talent she’d learnt from her father many years ago, and one she found brought her clear-headedness when she needed it. Today was one of those times, which was why she’d spent the last two hours riding and lassoing everything in sight. Securing her seat in the saddle with her thighs, she twirled the rope above her head, her gaze focused on her target. Three whirls and she let it fly. Bundy didn’t flinch, the horse accustomed to the movements. The rope sailed through the air and landed dead on. Hot dang, she was good. With a gentle nudge, Bundy trotted over to let her retrieve it. She gave it a tug, cursing when she saw it was hooked up. In seconds she’d swung out of the saddle and was on the ground sorting it out.
Parched, she grabbed her water bottle from the saddlebag and took a swig. Then, taking off her wide-brimmed hat and tipping some water into it, she offered it to Bundy to wet his lips – and he did, with comical vigour. Popping it back on her head, the dampness cooled her off a little. Reaching out, she wrapped her arms around his neck, inhaling his horsey scent – earthy and wholesome. If someone could come up with a way to bottle it, she was sure they’d be a squillionaire. Give her a hardworking man that smelt of horse and leather over a bottle of aftershave any day.
Strolling down to the trickling waterfall that descended to the valley behind them, she bent, washed her face and filled her water bottle. This stuff tasted like fine wine compared to the town water. Drawing in the aromas of the bush, she wandered over to Bundy and climbed back into the saddle. The scent of impending rain made her look up to the sky. Black clouds were quickly swallowing up the blue, and she worked out she had about ten minutes to get home before it bucketed down. Giving Bundy the cue to run wild and free, her horse widened his gait and within seconds they were galloping towards home.
Just as they reached the stables, a reverberating crack of thunder shook the ground beneath them, and not long after a flash of iridescent lightning zoomed across the sky. Then the heavens rained down. Emma smiled from the heart. Tonight, she would hopefully be able to sleep a little easier with the pitter-patter of raindrops on the tin roof – her definition of bliss. Dismounting under the awning, she quickly got to work unsaddling Bundy, brushing him down and then giving him a special treat of lucerne with a trickle of molasses.
Racing towards the homestead, across the back lawn, then climbing the steps two at a time, Emma paused to give Tiny a pat before kicking her boots off and making a beeline for the drinks fridge. She needed an icy cold beer to wash the dust of the day from her parched throat while watching from the verandah as the storm did the same for Mother Earth. Peering through the kitchen window, she looked for any signs of life – lights, the sounds of the telly, footsteps, anything. The homestead was as quiet and dark as she’d left it.
Glancing at the empty rack near the back door where Riley usually dropped her shoes, she then looked at her watch, shaking her head. Riley was late home. Again. A distant memory claimed her as she stared down the driveway, bringing tears to her eyes. Year after year, she’d stood in this exact spot, her heart swelling as she’d watched Riley wander down the drive, Tiny loyally beside her, and her head buried in a book. When Riley finally did look up, a broad smile would claim her pretty little face, and she would run into Emma’s arms, excited to tell her about her day. Back then, she’d thought they’d always remain so close, so tightly knit that nothing could ever come between them – if only that were so.
Grabbing her mobile from her pocket, she looked to see if there were any missed called or texts, and wasn’t surprised when there weren’t any. She dialled Riley’s number. As usual, it went to message bank. Huffing, she hung up and dialled it again, in the desperate hope Riley simply hadn’t heard the incoming call. Once again, message bank.
‘Hi, Riley here, you know the drill …’
Keeping her voice as calm as she possibly could given her rising exasperation, Emma closed her eyes and fought off the urge to explode. ‘Riley, it’s Mum, you were meant to come home straight after school. Can you please give me a call and let me know what you’re doing? Aunty Rennie is coming for dinner and I’m sure she’d love to see you, and so would I sometimes, you know. I love you.’ Hitting end, she tossed the phone onto the outdoor settee.
And then she paced, beer in hand, wondering if she should do the desperate-mother thing and go looking for her. Lord only knew what she could be up to, with the unruly mob she was hanging around these days, her boyfriend’s mates not ones Emma liked or approved of. Making a snap decision, she stormed down the front steps and towards her Land Rover, no longer caring about the rain. Enough was enough. Still her little girl, Riley needed to learn some respect, come hell or high water, and if that meant Emma had to be the bad guy for now, then so be it.
Driving over the bridge that led into town, a known hangout for the rebellious kids of the area, she made sure to keep her eyes peeled. A glimpse of shadows beneath it had her making a quick U-turn. She parked off to the side, out of sight. The rain was easing off now to a light sprinkle, the dark clouds that had consumed the blue now thundering into the distance. As she stepped from the four-wheel drive the stench of marijuana struck her first, followed by raucous laughter. Her breath tightened even more. Would her sweet, innocent girl be here, smoking pot? She doubted it, but with everything going on right now, anything was possible. Panic fuelled the determination in her steps as she stormed down the bank. Ben Lewis’s sticker-clad, aerial-overloaded ute came into her line of sight and confirmed her fears in an instant. Riley wouldn’t be far from her boyfriend’s side. A well-known rogue, Emma knew Ben was bad news, but she didn’t even stop to think about that he might be into drugs. With the incoming adult being spotted by the group, teenagers ran left, right and centre. Riley jumped into the passenger seat as Ben revved the V8 to life.
‘Riley Jane Wolfe, you get out of that ute, missy, or you can kiss next weekend’s gymkhana goodbye,’ Emma called out, every word choked by stormy emotions.
Her expression one of defiance, Riley completely ignored Emma’s words.
‘Don’t you dare drive off, Ben, or I’ll make damn sure the police know you’ve been here smoking pot.’ Glaring at the copper-haired boy behind the wheel, and then to the deathly quiet teenagers now piled in the tray, Emma stormed over to them. Her hands coming down hard on the driver’s window, she stuck her head through until she was only inches from Ben’s face. ‘You stay the hell away from my daughter, you got it?’
‘Mum, please.’ Riley’s red-rimmed eyes were as wide as saucers.
The acne-faced eighteen-year-old flashed Emma a smartarse smile. ‘Make me.’
She had to fight from grabbing him by the ear and dragging him from the car. ‘Oh, trust me, Ben, I’ve got a really big shotgun at home that I’m not afraid to use, so don’t even try me.’
He sniggered and shook his head. ‘Yeah, right, pull the other one.’
With Ben getting it over her, because yes, she’d never pull a gun on anyone, let alone a teenage boy, Emma stepped back before she did something she could get charged for. ‘Riley, get out of the car, right now.’ If it were possible, smoke would have been billowing from her ears she was so furious.
With an almighty huff, Riley went to do as she was told, but Ben grabbed her arm, squeezing it so tight Riley winced in pain. ‘If you get out, we’re finished.’
‘Let go, Ben, you’re hurting me.’
But he squeezed even tighter. ‘It’s me or her.’ His tone was menacing.
‘Ben, please stop it, you’re scaring me,’ Riley cried out as she tried to yank her arm free.
Emma reached back through the window and grabbed his shir
t collar. ‘Let her go, you bastard.’ Who did this little shit think he was?
The distraction had him freeing Riley from his vice-like grip, allowing her to tumble from the passenger door.
‘She wouldn’t give out anyway, so no loss to me,’ Ben said, snarling in Emma’s face. His foot slamming to the floor, the wheels spun and gravel flew out behind as the four-wheel drive fishtailed up the bank and screeched onto the bitumen of the main road into town, all the teenagers in the back hanging on for dear life.
Spinning around to face her daughter, Emma did her very best not to lose her temper – it would get them nowhere fast. ‘You okay?’ She rushed to Riley’s side, but noting how her daughter took a step back from her, she resisted the urge to take her into her arms and comfort her.
Shaking, Riley nodded, her eyes as bloodshot as they come.
‘I hope you can see how much of an arsehole he is now.’
Unmoving, Riley remained mute.
‘So you’re smoking pot now?’ As sorry as she felt for Riley, Emma couldn’t help the icy tone.
Riley’s face scrunched up. ‘You’ve just embarrassed me in front of all of my friends.’
‘I don’t give two hoots, Riley.’ She folded her arms. ‘Answer my goddamn question.’
‘So what if I was smoking pot, Mum?’ Her blue eyes flashing, Riley stood her ground. Although trying to look as if she were okay, her bottom lip twitched and she was clearly fighting back tears.
Emma couldn’t believe what she was hearing. ‘So what? Oh my god. Are you being serious right now?’
Other than a hefty sigh – a common occurrence of late, and a habit that really got under Emma’s skin almost as much as the whatever shoulder shrug – Riley remained silent.