The Red Dirt Road

by Alissa Callen

  It didn’t surprise Fliss that Hewitt had helped out, but what did shock her was Brody’s immaturity and selfishness. She’d always assumed he shared his twin’s kind and generous heart. ‘I can see how this would have caused tension.’

  Ava’s laugh sounded hollow. ‘You’re right. There’s only so many times a husband can come home drunk and wake two babies you’ve spent an hour getting to sleep. I hid from Hewitt, and his parents, how much trouble my marriage was in. I was the reason, not Hewitt, why Brody was bull riding.’

  Fliss stilled, her mug of tea halfway to her lips. ‘Hewitt’s convinced he’s the reason.’

  ‘I know. I’ve told him he isn’t, over and over. I’ve told him Brody made his own decisions and he wasn’t riding for the prize money to buy Hewitt out. The truth is, and this is part of what I need to tell Hewitt, is that Brody was only riding bulls to prove a point. We’d had a huge fight and he rode to show me he could live his life any way he wanted. He didn’t care if he had a family, he wanted to do the things he did before, even if they were high-risk.’

  Fliss shook her head. ‘Brody and Hewitt aren’t similar at all. The little I know about Hewitt makes me believe that once he has a family, they will always come first.’

  ‘They will. Hewitt has been more of a father to the twins than Brody ever was.’

  ‘Did Hewitt know Brody wasn’t the best father? He mentioned that Quinn used to follow Brody everywhere and work with him in the shed.’

  ‘He did … for five minutes until Quinn touched something he shouldn’t have. The only person Brody ever listened to was Hewitt. Hewitt would tell him to leave the rugby early to come home. Brody would look like he did, but really go to a mate’s place.’ Ava paused, her hands twisting together. ‘I haven’t been strong enough to make Hewitt realise once and for all that he wasn’t at fault for Brody being back on a bull. I’ve been battling my own guilt. But I am now. You see … I’ve found someone else.’

  ‘That’s wonderful.’

  ‘I just hope Hewitt doesn’t think I’m betraying Brody by moving on. He knows who it is. It’s our neighbour Dean who came to help with the crop when Hewitt had his motorbike accident.’

  ‘Is this Dean your eastern neighbour?’

  ‘Yes, the youngest brother.’

  ‘Hewitt will be happy for the both of you.’ Fliss reached over to squeeze Ava’s hand. ‘I’m sure.’

  Hewitt, Quinn and Lizzie entered the kitchen. Fliss let go of Ava’s hand but not before Hewitt’s concerned gaze swept between the two of them.

  Fliss gave the twins a sunny smile as she stood. ‘Who wants to meet the green frog that lives in the laundry? We can wash our hands while we see him and then have a drink and an Anzac biscuit.’

  In her peripheral vision, she saw Hewitt rub Ava’s back before he sat beside her.

  The afternoon passed in a flurry of activity. The twins rode Garnet and Flame and went in the ute with Hewitt to check the calves. They then named the three red hens and black-and-gold rooster scratching around in the chook pen. While Ava rested, Quinn helped Hewitt add fallen branches to the garden rubbish he’d stockpiled beneath a tarpaulin to keep dry. Tonight they’d light the pile and enjoy a bonfire. Lizzie let the puppies sleep and came over to the main house to bake with Fliss.

  After serious deliberation, Lizzie chose a vanilla fairy cupcake recipe from Fliss’s mother’s book. According to the handwritten notes, Fliss had enjoyed these cupcakes for her tenth birthday and the recipe had been passed on by Meredith.

  Fliss watched Lizzie’s cute face screw up in concentration as she stood on a stool and sifted flour into the mixing bowl. A longing to have her own little sweet Lizzie and energetic Quinn unfurled deep inside. A longing for children that she’d always repressed and had never had time to acknowledge before.

  High-pitched boyish laughter sounded from outside. Through the kitchen window she saw Hewitt tickling Quinn on the lawn.

  Lizzie rolled her eyes. ‘They do that all the time.’

  Fliss didn’t reply. Laughter relaxed Hewitt’s face and love for his nephew softened his mouth. The tug in her chest said it wasn’t only the twins who’d activated her biological clock. Hewitt would make a loving and committed father.

  When the shadows deepened and a chill stripped the warmth from the day, everyone sat around the table in the stables to enjoy the chicken Hewitt had roasted. Lizzie kept a watch for the first star through the kitchen window. When everyone’s plates were empty and starlight glimmered, she wriggled in her chair. ‘Uncle Hewy, is it dark enough for our bonfire yet?’

  ‘It sure is.’

  Fliss didn’t know which child was the quickest out of their seats.

  Around the wood pile Hewitt had set up hay bales that Fliss had covered with blankets. It wasn’t until the twins were safely perched on a bale that Hewitt lit the fire. Flames flickered and sparks soared skywards as the bonfire took hold.

  ‘Who’s for dessert?’ Fliss uncovered a tray of cones, marshmallows, bananas and chocolates she’d brought over from the main house.

  The twins’ excited chorus of ‘I am!’ made Fliss smile.

  Lizzie filled her cone with a sensible amount of ingredients while Quinn stuffed his so full it took an extra piece of aluminium foil to secure it closed. Lizzie made a cone for Fliss and Ava while Quinn made one for his uncle. Hewitt carefully put the foil-covered cones into the coals to melt.

  ‘And I thought maple syrup was sticky,’ Ava said as she used a serviette to wipe away the melted chocolate from Quinn’s chin.

  Lizzie finished her dessert, not a smear of chocolate on her hands or mouth.

  When the flames died down, and Quinn yawned from where he sat cuddled next to Hewitt, Ava got to her feet. ‘Bed time.’

  Despite their protests, the twins left their seats.

  ‘See you in the morning,’ she said to each sleepy five-year-old as they gave her a goodnight hug.

  Hewitt went to help Ava tuck the twins in. Fliss busied herself with cleaning up and taking their dessert ingredients to the main house. She returned to keep an eye on the fire. When all the lights in the stables were switched off except for the one in the kitchen, she guessed Ava would be having her talk with Hewitt.

  Grass rustled before Molly jumped up onto the hay bale. Fliss put an arm around the border collie and together they looked at the flames. Crickets chirped, frogs croaked and burning wood popped. Contentment filtered through her, silencing the whispers of her anxiety. She mightn’t have the blood of her father’s pioneering ancestors running through her, but she could still appreciate a campfire and the gentle touch of a balmy spring night. She could understand why her mother had said the bush was the best place to raise a family.

  Footsteps sounded and Hewitt walked into the firelight. Shoulders rigid, he didn’t speak as he circled the fire, tossing on the branches from the edge that had only burned part-way through. Molly yawned and jumped off the bale to head over to the shed where her babies slept. Fliss stayed quiet as Hewitt continued to stride around the bonfire. He tossed on a final log and after watching it for a moment, made his way over to her.

  When he sat on the hay bale he didn’t hide his grunt or the way he rubbed at his shoulder. Wrestling with Quinn had taken its toll on his shoulder.

  Hewitt glanced at her, his eyes dark hollows in his carved features. ‘Thanks for listening to Ava.’

  ‘You’re welcome.’

  The silence stretched as Fliss gave Hewitt the space to talk. ‘I’m so pleased for her and Dean and so … angry at myself. How could I not have seen that Brody wasn’t invested in his family?’

  Fliss turned towards him. ‘Because he didn’t want you to see. Because you love those twins so much it never occurred to you that he didn’t love them just as much.’

  ‘How could he not?’

  Fliss covered his hand with hers. For a moment he didn’t respond and then he turned his hand over so their fingers laced. The simplicity of the gesture and its implicit
message of thanks moved Fliss in a way words never could.

  Hewitt stared into the fire. ‘Dean’s a good bloke and if things keep going the way they are, he’ll be a wonderful father to Lizzie and Quinn.’

  Fliss squeezed his hand. Desolation had thickened his words. ‘Lizzie and Quinn love you. You will always be part of their lives no matter what the future holds. If Ava and Dean do get married then you’ll have a chance to do what you wanted and make your own way.’

  ‘Maybe. Mum and Dad have aged this past year and unless things change with Dad, I can’t see myself living anywhere else. Someone needs to run Mayfield. If Ava and Dean do end up together then Dean running the farm might be an option, but that’s not going to happen overnight.’

  Hewitt stopped to press a kiss to the back of her hand. ‘It’s late and I’d better let you get to bed. I’ll watch the fire. Quinn will be up before that new rooster of yours wakes us all at dawn.’

  ‘I swear Popcorn has his times mixed up. He crowed well before dawn this morning.’ Fliss worked hard to keep her voice even as Hewitt released her hand. The loss of his warmth was almost a physical wrench. She came to her feet. ‘Night.’

  Hewitt gazed at her but in the shadows she couldn’t gauge his expression. ‘Night, Fliss.’

  Sleep was about as easy to come by as it had been letting go of Fliss’s hand and watching her walk away. Hewitt sighed and flipped off the bedcovers. Even when the soothing sound of rain had fallen on the tin roof, he’d remained awake. He stood, raking both hands through his short hair.

  If it wasn’t enough Fliss slept across the hall, ever since his talk with Ava his emotions churned. Grief warred with anger. Loss merged with sadness. It broke his heart to think that Brody hadn’t been committed to his family. Sure, he’d always liked to drink with his mates and this had continued after his marriage, but Hewitt had always assumed that Ava and the twins came first.

  He reached for his jeans and slipped them on. Ava had confessed to keeping her misery private, instead trying to deal with Brody on her own. She hadn’t wanted to cause a rift between him and their parents and especially between Brody and Hewitt. Not only were they brothers and friends, they were business partners. She’d hoped one day Brody would enjoy being a father. But that day had never come.

  He could now understand Ava’s insistence he wasn’t to blame for Brody being back bull riding. But even though a layer of his guilt had been stripped away, he couldn’t so easily absolve himself of the guilt for not being there when Brody needed him. His plans to leave had still set in motion a tragic chain of events.

  He tugged on a black T-shirt, making sure he didn’t aggravate his shoulder. Where had Quinn learned to rugby tackle so hard? He crossed the room, the polished floorboards cold beneath his bare feet. He’d sit on the veranda and see if solitude settled his thoughts.

  As he walked along the darkened hallway, he noticed light peeping from under Fliss’s office door. He paused, about to knock, when Molly’s sharp bark cut through the night. Senses alert, he continued past Fliss’s door. At the front door he pulled on his boots before heading to the veranda.

  The rain had cleared. In the gloom, all he could see of the border collie were her white patches as she ran up the steps to him. He’d made the puppy panel low enough so she could jump out of the garden shed anytime she wanted to.

  He touched her head. ‘What’s up, Miss Molly?’

  He scanned the garden and stables before looking out over the front fence at the drive into Bundara. The screen door creaked and Fliss came to stand beside him. He shot her a quick sideways look, taking in her rugby top, grey pyjama shorts and alert gaze.

  She stared out into the night. ‘What is it?’

  ‘A car, lights off, just sitting there on the road.’

  ‘Where? I can’t see it.’

  ‘Before the dip.’

  ‘What are they doing?’

  ‘Checking us out.’

  He reached for Fliss’s hand and led her down the steps so she’d be less visible. He then waved his arm to activate the main house sensor lights. With Fliss following, and still holding his hand, he kept to the shadows. When they reached the stables, he again triggered the sensor lights before stepping back into the darkness. From beside him, Molly barked. He rubbed her ears to let her know everything was okay.

  ‘What would they be after?’ Fliss’s voice was quiet but calm. ‘Your quad bike?’

  ‘Nothing tonight. This would just be a reconnaissance mission. They now know you have a dog and sensor lights. They will have noted the padlocked gates and no trespassing signs. There’s also my ute, Ava’s four-wheel drive and your car, so they know there’s a few of us here.’

  ‘Which hopefully will make Bundara too hard a target. I wish I could see the rego plate.’

  Fliss still held his hand but the angle of her chin didn’t bode well for any would-be thieves. Fliss would be no damsel in distress. She would have dealt with intoxicated and aggressive patients in her city emergency department.

  ‘Have you had anyone stop and ask for directions or to see if you needed any odd jobs done?’ he asked, making a calculated guess as to the make and model of the car.

  ‘No. When I first moved in an old fellow came to see if he could have the grubs from the Kurrajong tree that had died along the fence line. He wanted to use them for fishing. I told him no as I was worried about insurance issues should he have an accident with his chainsaw. He came back a month later but since then I haven’t had any unknown visitors.’

  The slam of two car doors echoed through the thin night air. Hewitt eased his hand from Fliss’s. Whoever was in the car would have seen them but this hadn’t stopped them from leaving their vehicle. Molly growled low in her throat. He transferred his weight onto the balls of his feet.

  Fliss slipped her hand around his forearm. ‘Do I have to remind you about your broken shoulder?’

  He didn’t take his focus from the two blurred figures who’d moved to inspect a steel gate. A faint metal clink sounded. ‘If they cut the padlock, remind me after I’ve talked to them.’

  Fliss tightened her grip on his arm. ‘There’ll be no talking happening. You forget it wasn’t only Denham’s rodeo injuries I had to make sure he got help for.’

  Hewitt didn’t reply. No one was stealing anything from Bundara on his watch. The figures returned to their car. The engine rumbled into life before the sedan reversed, lights still off.

  ‘Good riddance,’ Fliss said, voice firm. ‘If they come back you have my full permission to nip their ankles, Miss Molly.’

  Hewitt looked at the border collie.

  Fliss stiffened. ‘Do you think they were after her and the puppies?’

  ‘More likely they’d be after easier things to steal. Ice would be as much of a problem here as it is elsewhere. Last harvest the UHF radio was stolen from my header. It wasn’t such a big deal, the radio isn’t worth much, but the broken header window took three days to fix.’

  ‘Harvest isn’t a time when you want delays.’

  ‘You can say that again. After he had a ute and tools stolen, Dean installed a camera that takes a picture whenever someone drives over his cattle grid.’

  The sensor light clicked off and Hewitt lifted his arm to reactivate it. Now that the car had left, standing close to Fliss in the darkness only increased the risk of something happening between them. All he needed to do was dip his head and his mouth would cover hers. He stepped into the pool of bright light. Fliss took a last look at the darkened road before following. Her hand remained in his, the clasp of her slender fingers warm and strong.

  He ran his thumb over her hand. ‘Maybe Reggie should come to stay? Denham swears he’s better than any watchdog.’

  ‘Poor Reggie, he’s much maligned. If you ever meet him you’ll see he’s a gentle giant.’

  Hewitt lifted an eyebrow. He’d heard the story about Reggie ramming a car of trespassing teenagers. ‘If I do meet him, I’m making sure he knows I’m at C
laremont by invitation.’

  Laughter kindled in Fliss’s eyes. ‘So you won’t be feeding him any carrots?’

  ‘Not if he thinks I shouldn’t be in his paddock.’

  Fliss took her hand from his to stifle a yawn. His fingers twitched at the sudden emptiness.

  ‘I should have gone to sleep hours ago. I think I’m ready now. I’ll shut down my computer and head to bed.’

  They moved towards the house. At the veranda steps he stopped to pat Molly.

  Fliss turned to face him. From where she stood on the second step their eyes were almost level. Beneath the sensor light she was all tousled hair, high cheekbones and large eyes.

  She touched his jaw, her caress as light as the night breeze that swirled around them. ‘I wouldn’t have let you talk to those men alone.’

  ‘I’ve no doubt you’d have had my back.’

  He lost the battle to look away from the soft sweep of her bottom lip. Silence shrouded them. His heartbeat thundered in his chest. They’d both agreed there could be no second kiss.

  Her hand slowly lowered. ‘Night.’

  ‘Night,’ he managed, before she disappeared through the front door.

  He scraped a hand over his face and waited until he could no longer hear the creak of the hallway floorboards before following her inside.

  He could have a rodeo ground between them and it still wouldn’t be enough to temper the awareness that he and Fliss were under the same roof. Fliss might now be able to sleep, but for him, sleep would be a long time coming.

  As Hewitt had predicted, Popcorn the rooster crowed at dawn and all too soon two small bodies stormed his room. He tried to keep the noise and laughter down so as to not wake Fliss, but it wasn’t long before she appeared at the bedroom doorway.

  ‘I thought I heard the sound of little feet,’ she said, voice sleepy.

  ‘Sorry.’

  She dragged her tousled hair off her face. ‘I was awake anyway. It could have been worse, they could have been furry little feet.’