Inheritance (7 page)

He certainly aroused her curiosity. Why had he chosen to leave Sydney and come here? It wasn’t as if he wanted to work with the cattle, apparently he left the running of the station to his manager. And if he just wanted a holiday estate he could have found one closer to Sydney, where he could drive up without having to come by plane.

Hmm…was he really attracted to her or was he just charming to all women? After all, Rosie said he had been seen with several different women and ‘had quite a string of conquests’. Wouldn’t she be a fool to read too much into what may have been merely a pleasant morning ride for him? Besides, she needed to concentrate on Yallandoo and its problems. She didn’t need the distraction of an emotional involvement right now. Nevertheless, as she turned out the light and settled for sleep, she found it difficult to banish thoughts of Mark Pierce from her mind.

***

The noisy and unmistakable sound of kookaburras woke Cassie early. Slipping out of bed, she padded out through the French doors onto the verandah. Sure enough, there were two of them perched on a bough of the poinciana tree only metres away; first one, then the other, and then both together, were pouring out their cacophony of raucous laughter.
‘Ooh-hoo-aah-haah, ooh-hoo-aah-haah, ooh-hoo-aah-ha-ha-ha-ha,’
over and over. Cassie stood by the rail watching them.

The cool air caressed her bare arms. She rubbed them and then hugged them around herself.

How she loved this time of day. No one else stirring yet and the silence broken only by the birds. The first streaks of pink stained the pale dawn sky. The undulating land of the home paddock was just visible as it sloped gently down to the river, and across the paddocks, the rainforest still wore its dark night mantle.

The stillness brought home to her that she was alone and she felt once again the familiar ache at the loss of Len and Izzie. Len had often come out to join her in the early morning and they enjoyed their first cup of tea for the day together. They both relished the daybreak; the solitude, the stillness, the cool before the heat of day. Sometimes they talked; often they sat in companionable silence.

Cassie felt his presence strongly now.

He had left Yallandoo in her custody, to preserve for future generations. Her roots were here; each generation of Taylor’s had taken up the challenge, with pride, to make its own contribution to Yallandoo. These ranged from improving the original bark slab hut to the large, imposing homestead of today, to planting the gardens, and to improving the quality of the livestock.

Each generation had left its mark in some way.

As she stood there, feeling the very spirit of Yallandoo, Cassie felt a connection with those shadowy figures from the past. Oh, if only she could do something significant, something that would make a difference, something to justify her uncle’s faith in her!

She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. In that instant she made her decision, and opened her eyes.

No, she would not sell Yallandoo!

So, what should she do? Her mind went again to her idea of tourism. It was big business now and Far North Queensland was drawing more and more visitors.

She wanted to share in this growth.

And she wanted to contribute something of herself to Yallandoo, as previous generations had. Tom could manage the day to day running of the station; he didn’t need her input. If she could create another dimension to Yallandoo, then she, too, would leave her mark here.

Cassie let her gaze roam over the land. The sun rose abruptly, as if eager to start a new day.

The green of the rainforest showed now and the rising sun dappled the river with silver. On the lawn, she spied three kangaroos, heads down as they grazed. They were a familiar sight here, in the early morning and in the evening. They loved the tender green shoots of the lawn. One of them carried a joey in its pouch, its little head protruding. As the mother bent over to eat, the joey poked its head out further to nibble on the grass at the same time.

As she watched, the largest of the animals raised up to sit on its strong back legs and long, powerful tail, its short front legs close to its chest. It turned its head from side to side and gazed around, sniffing the air. Then, apparently satisfied that no danger threatened, it went back to cropping the grass.

Would other people appreciate this tropical beauty and the experience of nature they could share? And, importantly, would they pay to come and stay? What about cabins in the rainforest?

Cassie thought about what she could offer; the rainforest, the caves with their aboriginal paintings, the boulders and the rock pool, ideal for a picnic and swim.

Mark had seemed to think she had something marketable here.

Mark. Her heart beat a little faster as she remembered the feel of him with his arms around her. She could still smell the scent of him as he held her tightly. A mixture of horse, aftershave and his own subtle masculine quality. Mentally she shook herself. She didn’t need these kinds of thoughts to distract her from business. But she couldn’t prevent herself looking forward to seeing him again.

Cassie’s reverie was broken by the sight of Lorna and Tom coming across to the house. Quickly she slipped into her room and dressed.

When she entered the kitchen, Lorna was preparing a breakfast of sausages, eggs, bacon and tomatoes, while Rosie manned the toaster. As Cassie took her place at the table, Tom was already drinking his first cup of tea and munching on a piece of toast.

‘We’re going to be selecting and branding today, Cassie,’ he told her. ‘I wonder if you’d like to come along. I thought you’d be interested to see that we’ve still got a bit of good breeding stock coming on. We’ve got some seasonal boys to help but I could still use an extra pair of hands.’

‘Sure, I’ll come. What can I do?’

‘Stand with me and help select the calves.’

‘I guess it’s time I learnt the finer points. But it’ll be you doing it for many years yet, Tom. I want to tell you all that I’ve made up my mind. I’m not selling Yallandoo.’

Lorna beamed. ‘Oh Cassie, love, I’m so happy. This is what we’ve been hoping for.’

Rosie face lit up as she came over and hugged her. ‘I knew you’d come good. You wouldn’t let your old mates down. Besides, it’s in your blood. You’d never be happy knowing you couldn’t come back here.’

‘You’re right, Rosie. This place is part of me, I love it too much to let go of it. Things’ll go on as they always have. However, I do have some ideas I want to talk to you all about a bit later. A few ideas about…value adding, shall we call it.’

Tom frowned and looked puzzled but made no comment.

Rosie looked as if she would never stop grinning.

‘Well, the important thing is we’re all staying here on Yallandoo together.’

‘Yes, you’re right. Besides, I’d always feel I’d let Uncle Len down if I sold. He meant it to stay in the family.’

Rosie smirked. ‘Well then, maybe you’d better give some thought to continuing the family line. We wouldn’t want to disappoint Uncle Len! But then maybe you’ve already got some ideas about that!’ Rosie laughed as she passed a plate of breakfast across to Cassie.

Cassie’s cheeks flushed. ‘Rosie, shut up! Sit down and eat your breakfast. And it’s time you learnt to show respect for your elders.’

‘Huh, big deal. Seeing you’re all of a year older than me.’

Lorna scolded them. ‘Now girls, you sound like ten years old again. You’ve got a busy day ahead. Eat your breakfast before it goes cold.’

Silence reigned for a while as they did as they were told.

‘Well now, we’d better get going. Jessie will have fed the other lads.’ Tom pushed his chair back. ‘We’ve brought the mob up to the holding yards so we’re all ready.’

‘See you tonight, Lorna,’ Cassie said, as they left her collecting the plates from the table.

They crossed to the stables as a group of men came from the direction of the bunkhouses.

‘Hi, Daniel, I haven’t seen you since I arrived. How are you?’ Cassie asked the tallest of them, a good-looking young man with dark hair and eyes and a cheerful smile.

‘Great, thanks, Cassie. And you? Everything okay?’

‘Sure.’ She nodded to the other men, some of whom she already knew. ‘G’day.’

‘This is Jim,’ Tom introduced the newcomers, ‘Cliff, Mike and Charlie. Ray and Tony. And this is Larry, Tony’s son.

‘Hi, Larry. Coming along to help, too?’ Cassie asked the young aboriginal boy, who looked about eight years old. He nodded shyly.

Then Cassie caught sight of another figure moving slowly behind the others. His skin was black as the wings of a crow, his hair thick and white above a face seamed with age. Her face lit up. ‘Sam,’ she called and, going to him, threw her arms around him and hugged him.

A broad smile broke out on the old man’s face, deepening the wrinkles, and his dark eyes shone. ‘It’s been a long time since I saw you, Cassie. I was beginning to think you’d forgotten us all.’

‘I’d never do that,’ she replied, ‘and I’m going to be here all the time from now on, so you’ll be seeing plenty of me. But look at you.’ She stepped back to look at him. His tall, thin frame was clad in the stockman’s garb of checked shirt and jeans. His back had a slight stoop. His feet were bare. ‘You look great, but you look like you’re dressed for work. Don’t tell me you’re coming with us?’

Sam shook his head. ‘No, no. I leave that to the young ones now. I taught ’em well enough. They know what to do.’

Cassie looked around and saw the others heading for the stables.

‘Sam, I have to go now, but I’ll be over to have a long talk with you later on. Do you still remember all the stories you used to tell us when we were kids?’

‘‘Course I do. I might be old but I’m not feeble in the head.’ He chuckled as he shuffled away.

***

The group of riders reached the holding yards. In the yard closest to them, the calves jostled one another. A gate at one end opened into a race, leading to several vacant pens. Past these, the dip led to a paddock where a herd of cows milled about, lowing plaintively, upset at being separated from their calves. The restless moving of the cattle raised a haze of fine dust over everything.

One man positioned himself alongside the gate in the first yard. Tom and Cassie stood beyond it.

‘Now, Cassie, do you remember what we have to do?’

‘Sure. When the calf comes through, you decide whether it’s going to be a bull for breeding or a steer for meat. If it’s a bull, it goes straight through to Daniel and the others for branding; if it’s to be a steer, it goes into that yard to be knackered before it’s branded. Same for the females except that they’re all branded and then separated for breeding or meat. Am I right?’

‘Yep. Good on you. And your job is to put them through the right gates when I tell you. Give ’em a push to hurry ’em along. Now to work.’ Tom turned and raised his voice. ‘Okay, Cliff. Ready.’

Cliff prodded the first calf through the gate. Tom didn’t take long to decide this was not breeding material and signalled Cassie to put it in the largest pen for castrating. She grabbed it and pushed it along and through the correct gate. The same thing happened with the next four, which were quickly seized by the men waiting to neuter them.

Tom studied the next calf for a minute or two before deciding it had the qualifications for a breeder. He signalled Cassie to put it straight through to be branded. The procedure continued, with Tom sometimes deciding immediately on the fate of the calf and sometimes deliberating his decision.

Daniel was in charge of branding. His off-siders already had the gas hot plates ready with the branding irons. As the calf came to them for branding, the two men grabbed it and put it into an iron frame that they fastened around it. Then they lowered it sideways to the ground, held fast while Daniel applied the station brand and the calf’s number to its shoulder.

Rosie waited with a hypodermic at the ready to plunge an injection into the calf below its shoulder to guard against tetanus or other disease.

Then the calf was freed and shoved through the dip. At the other end the cows waited, and they all mingled around until each cow found her own calf.

It was hot and dirty work, accompanied by the noise of bellowing calves and complaining cows.

It continued at a fast pace until morning tea, when everyone slumped gratefully on to the ground with a mug of tea and a slab of cake, brought out to them by Jessie, Daniel’s mother, who assisted Lorna on busy days such as this.

‘Oh, great,’ Rosie said, as she wiped the perspiration from her face. ‘Mum’s sultana cake. Just what I feel like.’

‘Yep. She makes great cake.’ Cassie sat leaning against the fence drinking her tea thirstily. ‘This is hard work, but I’m glad I didn’t miss it. I’ve forgotten some of the workings of the station. Tom’s trying to teach me how to tell the difference between a good breeder and one that’s only good for meat. Not always easy. Even he takes a while to decide sometimes.’

‘Yeah, well, it doesn’t do to make a mistake, does it? Once those balls are gone, there’s nothing much anyone can do about it.’

Cassie laughed. ‘I couldn’t’ve put it better myself.’

Young Larry came over with his cake and tea. ‘Sit down with us, Larry,’ Cassie invited, patting the ground beside her. ‘I saw you working pretty hard there helping your dad push those calves through the dip. Do you enjoy working with the cattle?’

‘Yes, I do,’ he said earnestly as he sat down beside her. ‘My dad’s one of the best stockmen ’round and I’m going to be a stockman too when I’m older.’ He bit into his cake. ‘I’m learning as much as I can ’cos Dad says that’s the way to be a good cattleman.’

‘He’s quite right. And do you know why we don’t let all the males stay as bulls?’

‘Of course. Because the meat from bulls is no good for eating, it’s too tough. But if they’re good enough for breeding, then we actually get more money for them. Yep.’ He nodded his head. ‘Same with the females. Breeders bring the most money.’

Cassie suppressed a twitch of her lips at the adult savvy in the pint-size figure. ‘Ah. There speaks a real cattleman. You’re quite right. Your dad’s taught you well.’