Where There Is Smoke

by Elisabeth Rose

  ‘Come on, you stupid thing. If we don’t get you out of here you’ll burn. Do you want that? No, you don’t. Come on.’

  The horse took a step forward but a skittering clump of burning leaves came through the fence and it sidestepped away, trailing the rope. Krista cursed under her breath but maintained the calm tone through gritted teeth.

  ‘Don’t do that. Let me catch you, for God’s sake.’

  This time she managed to get within arm’s reach but it backed away. Luckily it was now cornered by the fence and the wall of the stable, so she was able to grab the rope and lead it to the float.

  ‘Good work.’ Oliver smiled but it turned into a grimace as he tried to lift the ramp.

  ‘Sorry. You’ll have to do it.’

  Ignoring the pain in her hip, Krista bent and lifted. The ramp came up easily when it got going and it was a quick matter to lock it in place.

  ‘Shut the main doors,’ he said. ‘Stop random burning leaves blowing in.’

  She scampered to close them.

  ‘You’ll have to drive,’ Oliver said. ‘I can’t change gears.’

  ‘What about my car?’

  ‘Automatic?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I’ll drive it. Careful going out the gate with the float. Extra wide turn. You’ll be slow up hills.’

  ‘Okay. You follow me. What about the house?’

  ‘It takes its chances. Go.’ He turned away.

  Through the smoke, she watched him get awkwardly into her car. How much pain was he in? Would he manage? No time. Go.

  Heart in mouth, Krista got into Oliver’s car and started the engine. The big float loomed in the rear-view mirror. She’d never towed anything in her life. She put the car in gear, released the handbrake and clutch and nothing happened. The engine roared.

  ‘Come on. Go.’ She pressed harder on the accelerator, urging the car forward. Gradually the wheels gained traction. She was moving, slowly, but moving. ‘Thank God.’

  The trees along the drive thrashed furiously in the wind. If one came down they’d be stuck. Even more frightening was the fact she could barely see ahead through the dense smoke. She found the lights but they didn’t help much. A dull red glow lit the sky away to the right. How close was it? Perspiration ran down her cheeks and made her hands slippery on the steering wheel. She accelerated, anxious to get out onto the main road, clear of the trees which had now become threatening rather than welcoming.

  Burning twigs and leaves landed on the bonnet and stuck against the wiper blades. She switched the wipers on and the trapped pieces flew away. Suddenly the intersection was in front of her. She braked and felt the momentum of the float continuing behind her, pushing the car on. She braked again and this time the whole lot slowed enough for her to begin the turn. Slowly, Oliver said and now she knew why, and she also knew how Angus had ended up in that ditch.

  At least Oliver’s car was slow because it was struggling with the load. She straightened the car on what she thought was the correct side of the road. The centre line wasn’t visible and the guide posts were hazy on the edges of verge. She still had to be very careful on curves and especially going down those two hills. Her fingers gripped the steering wheel so tightly she had to consciously force herself to loosen the grip.

  She peered into the wing mirror to see if Oliver was in view and glimpsed lights which she hoped were the headlights of her car. All her bearings had gone with the visibility. She had no idea how far she’d driven and it wasn’t until the car began to slow on the first hill that she realised she was only about a third of the way to town. The whole run took her about twenty minutes in the BMW, breezing along a few k’s over the ninety-k speed limit. Quite a few k’s on the straights. Now she was probably averaging thirty, if that. This would take hours.

  The pace slowed as the rise continued, but the car chugged on bravely with her verbal encouragement and a few pats on the dashboard. Finally the strain decreased and another problem became apparent. As it had when she braked for the intersection, the weight she was towing created a power all its own and if she wasn’t really careful it would be out of control in an instant. She knew at the bottom of this hill the road curved right and then left, in two sweeping bends, before crossing the river on a single-lane bridge.

  What did cheer her marginally was the decrease in burning leaves and twigs showering onto the car. The smoke had thinned too. Suddenly, with a couple of toots on the horn, a vehicle rushed past, coming up behind her out of the gloom and disappearing into the haze ahead, the tail-lights glowing red and then fading.

  Somehow the sight of another vehicle boosted her spirits, and it was with renewed optimism she guided the car around the first of the bends and then the next. The white sides of the bridge came into sight next and she rattled across, confident no-one would be coming the other way. The next hill wasn’t as steep or as long and when she reached the top, the first of the orchards outside Taylor’s Bend were visible at the bottom of the slope. Here the smoke was a lighter bluey grey colour, and sky was visible when she looked ahead.

  Tears ran down her cheeks and this time they were pure relief. When she reached the town proper she wasn’t sure where to go. The showground wasn’t on this road she’d come in on and it wasn’t to the right, out where Oliver lived and Angus had crashed. She didn’t remember it on the other road in either but she’d only driven that way once and that was over a year ago. A showground wouldn’t have registered. She slowed and pulled to the side of the road near the primary school, waiting for Oliver to overtake and lead the way.

  He stopped level with her and she waved him past. He nodded and continued on, turning left at the main street. The Arts Centre was on the left a few doors from the pub, but that was the only thing she noticed as now there was traffic to negotiate and when she stopped at the lights and then waited at a pedestrian crossing, it took ages for the car to get going again.

  Nobody seemed to mind though, and a few people even gave her a wave as she went slowly by. Oliver turned right three blocks along from where they’d come in. She made the turn carefully, conscious that cars were waiting, but again no-one honked or yelled at her to get out of the way and again a couple of people smiled and waved.

  About five-hundred metres along, a big sign announced the ‘Taylor’s Bend Showground and Sports Field’. Oliver drove through the gate and round the large dry, brown oval to buildings on the far side where cars, a few caravans, tents and people were visible. When she reached the area, a woman appeared in jeans, a red-checked shirt, big sunglasses and a wide-brimmed straw hat. She had a clipboard and a friendly smile on her round face.

  ‘G’day. I’m Di Fuller.’

  ‘I’m Krista Laatonen. From The Grange.’

  ‘How many horses have you got there, Krista?’

  ‘Four.’

  ‘Bad out your way? Looks like it. Your rig’s covered in ash.’

  ‘I think so. It was …’ Words failed her and she had to wipe her eyes.

  ‘Don’t worry, darl. You’re here now and the firies are doing their best. Drive along there to the stables.’ She pointed. ‘Stalls four, five, six and seven. Okay? Les will help you unload. Are you on your own?’

  ‘No, Oliver is there. In my car. The blue one. He’s hurt.’ Not blue now. Filthy. But they’d made it.

  ‘I’ll take care of him.’ Di smiled. ‘Don’t worry. Take care of your horses and come back here for a cuppa and some brekkie when you’re done. Okay, darl.’ She stepped back.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Krista followed her instructions and drove carefully along the first row of empty stalls to the far end. Two empty floats were parked against the fence to the rear and two curious horses poked their heads out of the wooden stables. An elderly man in shorts sat on a camp chair next to a battered old truck and a camper trailer, reading the paper and nursing a cup of tea. A brown dog lay sprawled in the shade nearby.

  She switched off the engine and sat for a moment, eyes closed, wea
k with relief, relishing the quiet and the relatively sweet freshness of the air coming through the open window. Safe.

  ‘Need a hand, love?’

  The wiry, tanned paper-reader was next to the car, displaying missing teeth in a friendly smile. Close to eighty?

  Krista got out, wincing as her hip complained about the change of position. ‘Yes, please.’

  ‘Got a full load?’

  ‘Four.’ Where was Oliver? She shaded her eyes and looked back. Her car was still parked near where she’d talked to Di but no-one was in sight. Was he all right? She couldn’t tell when he passed her in town.

  ‘Let’s get this back down.’ He was already unlatching the rear door. ‘From The Grange, are you?’

  ‘Yes. Are these two your horses?’

  ‘One is. Old Blackie there. Brought the milking cow in too. And that lazy dog.’ He jerked his thumb in the direction of the camper. ‘The missus has taken the car in to Dot and Laurie’s to get some supplies. Might be here for a while.’

  Now she looked more clearly, his truck was loaded with possessions. He stood to lose everything yet here he was helping her and sounding as though he was on a camping trip.

  He expertly lowered the back and made sure the ramp was steady. Krista untied the first horse, the brown one with the white strip on its nose. The one that tried to escape.

  ‘See,’ she said. ‘You’re safe now.’ It nuzzled at her shoulder as she led it to a stall. ‘Now you’re all friendly, aren’t you?’ She stroked its neck and let it loose, closing and latching the half door carefully.

  Her other new friend was already leading the second horse out and within a few minutes all four were assessing their new surroundings from their temporary accommodation.

  ‘Sorry, love. Name’s Les,’ the man said, holding out a gnarled hand.

  She shook it firmly. ‘Krista. Thank you very much, Les.’

  ‘Hope your property makes it through. They’ve evacuated Jindalee.’

  ‘My goodness. I hope yours makes it too. Where do you live?’

  ‘Out your way but not as far. Just before the bridge. You left it a bit late.’

  ‘I know but we got held up catching a horse, and then it was very slow driving. I couldn’t see much.’

  ‘Yeah, it wasn’t too bad when we left. We were ready to go last night but Sal couldn’t sleep so we got going at four-thirty this morning.’

  ‘Do you think the fire will get as far as your place?’

  ‘Hard to say. The firies will do what they can but it depends on what the wind does. How close was it to The Grange?’

  ‘I don’t know. There was an orange glow off to the right but not close … I think. I don’t know. Burning leaves were blowing around. It’s terrifying.’

  ‘You’re safe here, love. And you got your horses out.’

  Krista wiped a hand across her eyes, conscious of her hand shaking uncontrollably, and the increasing ache in her hip.

  ‘Isn’t that the vet’s car?’ Shrewd eyes studied the car and then her.

  ‘Yes.’ She sucked in air and focused. ‘He drove my car in. It’s an automatic. He hurt his arm and couldn’t change gear.’

  Where was he? How badly was he injured? Those two men had been vicious in their attack.

  ‘Like me to unhook her for you?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The float, love.’ He grinned. ‘Can you back her up against the fence out of the way?’

  ‘I doubt it. It’s the first time I’ve towed anything.’

  ‘You did well. Give us a sec.’ He hopped into the car, took all of five minutes to position the float neatly against the fence, then got out, bent over and fiddled about with the connection. ‘Drive her forward a bit,’ he said.

  Krista got in and edged the now responsive car clear of the float. She leaned out the window.

  ‘That was impressive parking. Thanks very much for the help.’

  ‘No worries. I’ll keep an eye on the horses for you.’

  Did he swagger a little as he shrugged the praise off and went back to his tea and paper?

  Krista drove back to where her car was parked. Oliver wasn’t inside and neither was Lola. She got out and stared around at the parked cars and sundry caravans. A couple of goats and alpacas were housed in the open yards, along with three cows, two ponies and a donkey. Another horse float drove through the gate.

  Di came out of a white tent with her clipboard.

  ‘Oliver’s in here, darl,’ she said. ‘Looks like he’s been in a fight. So do you, for that matter. I rang the doc and told him to expect a visit. Reckon you should give Rupe a call too.’ Her eyes narrowed and her tone sharpened on the last comment. Did Di think she and Oliver had been fighting each other? What had Oliver told her? She must look a mess.

  ‘Um … thanks.’

  Krista pushed through the tent flap, blinking in the darker interior. Even though it was in the shade, the inside was hot and stuffy. Lola trotted across, wagging her tail.

  ‘Hello, little girl.’ Krista knelt to pat her and received a lick on the cheek. One bright note in the overall gloom of recent events.

  ‘G’day.’ Oliver prised himself off a folding chair. Dirty, dust in his hair, his left arm held uncomfortably in front of his body, the wrist swollen, a streak of blood on his cheek along with rising bruises, he looked … wonderful.

  ‘Hi.’

  A rush of emotion propelled her forward. She wanted to fling her arms around him and hold him as close as she could but his arm was a barrier so she stopped, unsure and suddenly embarrassed. What if he didn’t want …

  ‘Come here,’ he said gruffly and pulled her in to a hug with his good right arm—surprisingly firm and surprisingly, gratifyingly intense. She wanted to bury herself in his embrace but she slipped her arms carefully around his body and held him as tight as she dared, given he’d been punched in the stomach and generally beaten up.

  ‘You smell of smoke,’ he murmured into her hair.

  ‘So do you,’ she whispered. ‘And you’re filthy.

  ‘So are you but I don’t care.’

  ‘Neither do I.’ She sniffed hard at the tears clogging her throat and nose. It was true. For the first time in her life she genuinely didn’t care how she looked. And this man genuinely didn’t care either.

  He released her way too soon but she relinquished her hold, knowing he was probably in all sorts of pain.

  ‘Di said the doctor is expecting us,’ she said.

  ‘Yes. I didn’t have the energy to argue. Are the horses all right?’

  ‘Yes. Someone called Les said he’ll keep an eye on them for me. He and his wife have a camper there.’

  Oliver nodded. ‘Les and Sally. They’ll be fine then. Have they got water?’

  ‘No, the buckets are in my car.’

  ‘We should fix that before we go, and they’ll need a feed, too.’

  ‘I’ll do it. You wait here.’ She turned to leave.

  ‘Krista …’

  ‘What?’

  ‘You’re a champion.’

  The flood of pride was so intense she could only smile at him like an idiot. She ducked her head to hide the heat rushing to her cheeks, and after a little tussle with the tent flap, hurried to feed and water the horses.

  Chapter 12

  Krista left a bucket of water in each stall and fed the horses the mix Oliver had shown her the previous night. She parked her car next to the float, took her suitcase and handbag and walked back to where Oliver waited, leaning on his car. She’d have to drive to the doctor and then take him home. Then what? Borrow his car and try for a room at the motel or the pub?

  Should she stay here overnight? She had nothing to sleep in or on. Was it necessary? Perhaps it was. Those horses were valuable and two belonged to other people. They should come and collect them. She’d phone Rod later. And Hugh should know what had happened here.

  Oh! Her phone was lying smashed on the ground at the stables with all her contact details in
it. Possibly even melted by now.

  Oliver straightened when she came near. Lola sat at his feet, waiting. ‘Do you want tea and something to eat?’

  ‘Not yet. You should see the doctor. Your eye is swollen.’

  ‘I can see all right. I think it’s just bruising.’

  ‘Maybe you can see but I’ll drive,’ she said.

  ‘Thanks.’

  ‘How are you feeling?’ he asked when they were heading for the gate, but winced and hissed in air as the car bounced over the rough track.

  ‘Not as bad as you, but I think I hurt my ankle and my hip when he knocked me over.’

  ‘What about your cheek? He hit you pretty hard, the bastard.’ His hand landed on her shoulder briefly with a consoling squeeze.

  ‘It’s a bit tender. I haven’t thought about it. How are you?’

  ‘Bloody terrible. They were used to beating people up. I’m not.’

  ‘It was two against one, the cowards.’ She gave a low chuckle and glanced across to catch his curious eye on her. ‘I gave him a good whack with that bucket.’

  ‘Ha! You sure did.’

  Her laughter died. ‘What would have happened if the fire hadn’t frightened them off?’

  ‘I reckon we’d be a lot worse off than we are,’ he said grimly. ‘I’ll give Rupe a call and get him or Shannon to drive past my place.’

  ‘Do you think they’d go there?’

  ‘Hope not but you never know. Go left on the main road and two blocks down, left again.’

  He made the call and gave an edited version of events, answered a couple of questions and finished with a description of the red ute.

  ‘He’ll put out an alert for it but it’s pretty chaotic at the moment with the fire.’

  ‘Any news on that?’

  ‘They’ve closed the Jindalee Road but he didn’t know any more details about properties along there.’

  The doctor’s surgery was a squat red-brick building with big blue hydrangeas along the wall, wilting in the heat. A white sign stuck in the garden by the gate said ‘Doctor Gustav Jensen’ followed by a string of initials.

  ‘Danish,’ said Krista as they walked up the white concrete path to the steps with Lola trotting along behind.