The Red Dirt Road

by Alissa Callen

  Fliss pushed back her chair. What Edna had failed to mention was that she’d been warned by Dr Sam that unless she lost weight and exercised to lower her LDL cholesterol, the next step would be medication. ‘How about I rustle up something?’

  ‘That would be fabulous. Hewitt and I can get to know each other a little better.’

  Fliss collected two carrots from the vegetable crisper and a tub of hummus dip.

  ‘So, Hewitt,’ Edna said, tone smug. ‘You’re still with us.’

  ‘Yes. I am.’

  As she peeled the carrots, Fliss snuck a look at Hewitt. His dry tone matched his closed expression.

  Edna continued unfazed. ‘My personal invitation still stands to attend the trail ride. As much as I have faith in Tanner, there are three Ridley boys to keep an eye on.’

  ‘I’m flattered you believe I’ll be of use, but unfortunately I came off second best with a motorbike and am not as fit as I should be. I’ve no doubt Tanner will have everything under control.’

  Fliss stopped slicing. Hewitt’s words were genuine but a note of steel was embedded in his tone. She took a better look at him. She also could have sworn self-disgust had rasped in his voice when he’d mentioned his accident.

  ‘Oh dear.’ Edna’s formidable frown would have made a lesser man reconsider his response. ‘You don’t look like you’re injured.’

  Fliss spoke. ‘Hewitt has a fractured scapula.’

  Edna barely glanced at her. ‘Thank you, Felicity.’

  Fliss sliced another carrot. One day Edna would forgive her for dumping her precious Rodger when they were thirteen. Rodger had had a crush on another girl so they’d pretended that Fliss dumped him to give him some street cred. He’d won the girl of his dreams only to have his heart broken for real two days later.

  Fliss placed the platter of carrots and hummus on the table and returned to her seat. Edna’s lips pursed before she selected the thickest carrot stick.

  She again focused on Hewitt, eyes narrowed. ‘We’re also having a ball to raise money for the hospital’s portable ultrasound. I’m sure you’ll be able to dance with a broken shoulder, especially if you have a partner like my Bethany; she’s so light on her feet.’

  Hewitt took a slow swallow of coffee. ‘I’m sure your daughter’s very light on her feet. But I’m not willing to commit to anything. I’ve a family farm to return to.’

  ‘That’s most … inconvenient.’

  Fliss caught the deflated note in Edna’s reply and almost felt sorry for her. It wasn’t often Edna had her wishes thwarted.

  Her phone vibrated and she took it out of her pocket. When she saw the caller was Lewis, she looked across at Edna and Hewitt. ‘Sorry, I need to take this.’

  She left for the privacy of the sparsely furnished dining room.

  ‘Hi, Lewis.’

  ‘Hello, Fliss.’

  Her stomach dropped. Lewis’s refined voice sounded ragged and rough.

  He spoke again. ‘Jean’s gone. This time it was an irreversible stroke, not a transient ischaemic attack.’

  Fliss closed her eyes against the sting of hot tears. ‘I’m so, so sorry.’

  ‘I knew this day would come. Jean’s battled on so many fronts, but now she’s not here … it’s harder than I ever imagined.’

  Fliss dashed a tear from her cheek and turned towards the door. ‘If Meredith and I leave soon, we’ll make it to Sydney by dinner.’

  ‘Meredith said the same thing but I feel bad you both dropping everything.’

  ‘Don’t be silly.’ Her hurried footsteps echoed in the hallway as she made her way towards her bedroom to pack. ‘I’ll pick up Meredith and we’ll be there to stay and to keep you company as soon as we can.’

  Hewitt took a seat on the top veranda step where the border collie had waited since breakfast, her head on her paws and eyes on the front door. It hadn’t even been two days since Fliss had left, and they both missed her.

  He hadn’t realised how much she’d become part of his life at Bundara. Her ready laughter and quick wit made him smile. Her beauty, even when dressed in gardening clothes, stole his breath. Her strength and determination humbled him. She continued to fight her self-doubts and fears with a resolute single-mindedness.

  It hadn’t only been sadness tensing her mouth when she’d driven away. Her hands had been unsteady as she’d loaded her car. Even though she’d channelled her shock at not being Cressy’s full sister into the search for her father, loss continued to add a distant look to her eyes. But ever since Lewis’s call her only focus had been on helping her university mentor through his grief.

  Hewitt stroked the border collie’s nose as she rested her head on his lap.

  ‘We need to keep busy, otherwise the five days Fliss is away will feel even longer.’

  He came to his feet and walked around the homestead, taking note of what needed to be done. The border collie stayed by his side until a chorus of hungry yips drew her back to her puppies.

  The sun put in a brief appearance as he climbed over the rusted roof to inspect the gutters and to clean out the accumulated leaves and twigs. Just as well it was a wet spring and not a hot summer—Fliss’s home was far from bushfire ready even if her garden was no longer choked with weeds. Since she’d been gone daffodils had flowered beside the veranda steps and the camellia tucked next to the water tank had burst into brilliant red blooms.

  He stepped off the bottom rung of the ladder when his phone rang. He ignored the kick in his pulse and took his time to answer. Fliss had texted several times and said she’d call when she got a chance to see how the dogs were doing. If this was Fliss, he didn’t want to appear eager to answer. She didn’t need to know how much he missed hearing her voice.

  When he checked the screen, he recognised Ella’s number.

  ‘Hi, Hewitt.’

  Frenzied dog barking sounded in the background.

  ‘Hi. Someone sounds happy?’

  ‘Sorry, that’s little Goose. She loves coming in. Thankfully she’s only here to have her yearly shots. Last time she had a grass seed in her ear and it was impossible to keep her still.’

  Whatever breed little Goose was, from her high-pitched barks, he had no doubt it was an excitable one.

  ‘Hang on …’ Ella spoke again. ‘I’ll shut the door. There, that’s better. So how are you going holding down the fort?’

  ‘So far, there’s been no dramas. But by the time Fliss returns, the puppies will have their eyes open.’

  ‘Which means the days of leaving boots on the veranda are numbered.’

  ‘Along with the washing staying on the line.’

  Ella chuckled. ‘For all their mischief nothing melts hearts faster than a gaggle of fluffy border collie puppies.’

  ‘True.’ He looked to where the border collie lay beside his boots, watching him with her bright brown eyes. ‘Any hits on the interstate databases?’

  ‘That’s why I’m calling. I don’t want to bother Fliss right now, so can you please pass on I have both good and bad news?’

  ‘I will. So does our mystery guest have a name?’

  ‘Yes, I finally found a match on a Victorian microchip database. Her registered pedigree name is Bonnyrigg Golly Miss Molly and it’s no surprise her name’s Molly for short.’

  ‘Molly … it suits her.’

  ‘The bad news is I’ve left three messages with the contact numbers with no response. At least she’s microchipped, which gives us another week to find her owners.’

  ‘They could be away?’

  ‘I’m thinking that as well. She comes from a property in the high country, so I’ve called in a favour from a university friend who works down south and he’ll visit the farm on his day off.’

  ‘The neighbours could know something.’

  ‘Fingers crossed. I’ll keep you and Fliss posted.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘Anytime. Enjoy those puppies and guard those boots of yours.’

  ‘Will do.’
/>   Hewitt ended the call before sending Fliss a text. He returned the phone to his shirt pocket.

  ‘So Miss Molly … you have a name. I’ve no doubt if your owners knew you were missing they’d be looking for you.’ He rubbed behind her ears as she leaned against his jeans. ‘You wouldn’t have just been a working dog, you would have been their best mate.’

  He returned to the roof to remove the debris from the front corner gutter. With the original bluestone stables now being living quarters, alternative stables had been built beside a round yard. From where he was, he could see straight into the three stalls. On his farm, whenever Garnet would see him, she’d hang her head over her stable half door and whicker.

  He braced himself, but the usual cold ball of tension at the thought of Garnet and of riding didn’t lodge in his stomach. Instead a yearning to see his blood-red bay mare coursed through him.

  He went back to cleaning the gutter, every so often glancing at the empty stables.

  Once the ladder had been returned to the shed, he made a coffee and sat on the top veranda step to keep Molly company. He checked his phone and there’d been a text from Fliss.

  He tickled behind the border collie’s ears. ‘Fliss thinks your name’s perfect. She reckons Lizzie would approve.’

  He hadn’t started on his coffee when Molly’s ears pricked and she stared at the road into Bundara. A growl rumbled in her throat as a white Land Cruiser ute negotiated the narrow causeway that was now free of water.

  ‘It’s okay. It’s only Denham. You’ll like him. He’s not a threat to you or your babies.’

  As Hewitt had predicted, when the border collie met Denham, she took to him straight away.

  Denham grinned as he patted her. ‘No wonder you have Fliss wrapped around your doggy paw, you’re a sweetheart.’

  Denham passed Hewitt a cold six-pack of beer. ‘These are from me and this esky full of food is from Cressy. Anyone would think you were out here by yourself for a year.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Hewitt accepted the beer and fell into step beside Denham as they made their way to the bluestone stables.

  With a beer in hand, they returned outside to take advantage of the sunshine. Next week the heavy cloud cover and rain squalls would return.

  Hewitt settled himself on the veranda steps. ‘Fliss needs some outdoor furniture. I found an old door that would make a decent-sized table.’

  Denham too sat on the steps and rubbed Molly’s tummy as she lay beside him. ‘I like your thinking. I happen to know of a shed that has all the boy’s toys you’ll need.’

  Hewitt chuckled. ‘I bet you do. How’s that offset plough coming along?’

  ‘Slowly. I’ve had to replace the axles and bearings.’

  ‘When I come round to make the table, I’ll help speed things up.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Denham took a swig of beer and looked out over the tidy garden. ‘This place is unrecognisable. Cressy sleeps easier knowing Fliss isn’t sharing her garden with any snakes.’

  ‘Being here has helped me sleep a little easier too.’

  ‘You do seem more relaxed.’

  ‘I’m working on it. I still need to deal with losing Brody but you’re right … I’m not in the same place I was before I fell off the bike.’

  ‘You look like you’re moving easier … your shoulder must be healing?’

  Hewitt stilled, his beer halfway to his mouth. Even with Denham, he hadn’t gone into detail about the extent of his motorbike injuries.

  Denham shook his head. ‘Don’t think I didn’t know how much pain you were in.’

  ‘Not you too. Fliss picked it the moment I got here.’

  ‘Welcome to my world. I’m not sure what the hardest thing was, falling off a bull or taking the call when Fliss knew I’d been injured.’

  ‘I can only imagine Fliss’s reaction. I thought Cressy had a strong will …’

  ‘She does. They both do.’

  Denham’s intent blue stare confirmed he hadn’t missed Hewitt’s awareness of Fliss at Cressy’s barbeque or when Fliss had visited last week. But instead of making any further comment, he lifted his beer and clinked the bottle against Hewitt’s.

  ‘To strong Knight girls.’

  It wasn’t Denham’s words that stayed with Hewitt that night and the following day as he kept himself busy but the memory of his tone. When Denham had toasted Fliss and Cressy his voice had been tender and solemn. His meaning had been clear: both women were special.

  The message hadn’t been lost on Hewitt. Since he’d arrived he’d struggled to repress the realisation he’d never again meet a woman like Fliss. But it didn’t matter how much she affected him, or how much he was drawn to her. Ava and the twins were counting on him. Even after coming clean to Fliss about his true role in Brody’s death, the weight of his guilt hadn’t lessened. With Fliss away he now had a chance, and the space, to regroup and to refocus. Somehow he had to find a way to say goodbye to his twin and to move on.

  He threw himself into sanding the old door so it would be ready for when he worked on it in Denham’s shed. Then he drew up plans for a fire pit to weld before finishing the empty garden bed along the side of the stables. He dug up the agapanthus filling the overgrown bed at the back of the house, split them into clumps, and repositioned them. When the last of the plants had been watered in, he gave in to the ache in his shoulder and sat on the veranda to watch the sunset.

  A tiny black-and-white face appeared at the garden shed. The puppies had opened their eyes and every day grew more adventurous. Molly licked his hand before returning to her babies. The puppy, who Quinn had named John Deere after his favourite tractor, scampered out the shed door on chubby legs to meet her.

  It wasn’t only the puppies that had changed. He felt himself changing as well. With its serenity and its rugged beauty, Bundara had drawn him in and held him tight. Bringing the derelict farm back to what it had once been filled him with a sense of peace and achievement.

  He stared at the pastures beyond the post-and-rail fence that had become as familiar as his family farm. He didn’t know if it was because it was spring and he was surrounded by new life, but he felt a renewed sense of hope.

  After the grey hues of the overcast weather, tonight’s sunset proved spectacular. Vivid yellows, crimsons and oranges splashed across the sky in bold streaks of colour. He traced the jagged silhouette of the western ridge that would only be accessible by horseback. From the high granite slopes the sunset would prove even more brilliant. Something unravelled deep inside.

  When they’d been young, and life had been simple, he and Brody would ride their ponies to the highest point on Mayfield to watch the sun descend. They’d used to feel like they could touch the sky and as though they too had been painted in colour. A breeze brushed over his skin as if offering encouragement. He stared at the ridge and acknowledged the emotions thrashing within him. He needed to feel the chill air as he and Garnet climbed the timbered slopes and looked down on a still and silent world. He needed to sit in silence and to watch the sun slowly sink in the sky.

  He came to his feet and slid his phone free from his shirt pocket to call Ava. Bundara’s stables would no longer stand empty. It was time to reclaim what he’d lost.

  CHAPTER

  8

  Mid-morning sun streamed through the kitchen window of Lewis’s city home and bathed the minimalistic room in light.

  ‘How does this look?’ Fliss asked Meredith, as she smoothed melted chocolate over a creamy layer of caramel that covered a biscuit base. It was her second attempt at melting the chocolate as the first packet had congealed into a crumbly mess in the microwave jug.

  ‘Wonderful. Caramel slice always goes down a treat.’

  Fliss and Meredith had helped with the funeral plans and had sorted through Jean’s clothes and personal items. With the funeral on tomorrow, they were now spending the day preparing for the wake. Jean had only wanted a simple affair so family and friends were to be invited back to Lewis’s home
after the church service.

  Fliss ran a sink full of hot water to wash up the latest round of cooking utensils. She glanced to where Meredith was assembling the ingredients for her famous sponge cake that Fliss’s mother had included in her own recipe book.

  ‘I know we talked about this on the way down here, but why did you suspect I wasn’t a honeymoon baby? I’ve looked at the dates on my birth certificate, and on Mum and Dad’s marriage certificate, and the timeline is plausible.’

  ‘It wasn’t anything specific your mother said or did, it was more a result of my own situation.’

  Fliss nodded. Many years ago, Meredith had been forced by her family to give up her precious son that she’d had with the jackaroo she’d loved and lost to a riding accident.

  The older woman’s expression grew pensive as she sifted flour into a large glass bowl. ‘Those early years after losing Simon and giving up Tanner, I was consumed with grief and guilt … and I was sure sometimes I’d see a similar expression in Ruth’s eyes when she’d look at you. Which made no sense. But after Cressy was born I started to believe something wasn’t right. It was always assumed you’d been in a hurry to enter the world. You also were a small baby so this fitted in with you being early. However, when Cressy arrived she went full term and was still smaller than you.’

  ‘Mum always said I wore her out so she didn’t put on as much weight with Cressy as she did with me.’

  ‘Which made perfect sense as you were a very … energetic toddler.’

  ‘Which is your nice way of saying I was a horror.’

  ‘Let’s just say Cressy slept more in her first month than you did in your first two years and I suspect more than you sleep even now.’

  ‘Sorry, did I wake you?’ She’d hoped Meredith hadn’t heard her walking around last night. ‘I tried to be quiet when I went downstairs for another book but that first floorboard always squeaks.’

  ‘It’s no problem, I was reading too. I know I once lived in Sydney, but the traffic noise still keeps me awake.’

  Fliss finished the last of the dishes and wiped her hands on a red tea towel. ‘I’ll see if Lewis wants a cuppa and then I’ll walk to the shops for some more eggs.’