Mountain Ash (20 page)

‘Mummy!' a streak of pink yelled as it bolted towards the ute.

Jodie pulled the vehicle up beside the gutter and glanced at her daughter running across the grass.

‘Welcome home to mummy-hood,' said Stace with a grin. Her friend's demeanour had improved considerably in the last couple of hours. In fact you could barely tell that Stace had recently suffered a near-death experience. Jodie opened the car door and bailed out of the ute just as an energetic seven-year-old slammed into her.

‘I missed you, Mummy!' cried Milly. ‘But guess what?' The little girl jumped back, excitement in her eyes. ‘Muey and I have a secret. I can't tell you until Mue comes, but you're gunna love it.'

‘
Going to
love it,' Jodie corrected her daughter automatically, while her mind focused on the word secret.
I don't need any more surprises
.

Over her daughter's head, Jodie could see Muriel Bailey making her way across the lawn towards her. A slight smile was creasing her gentle face. She called out, ‘Millicent. Remember what I said? Mum mightn't agree so don't get your hopes up.'

Milly's smile disappeared, but she couldn't be subdued for long. She grabbed at her mother's hand and started to pull her along. ‘C'mon. If you see him, I know you'll love him.'

From behind Jodie, Stacey gave a loud laugh. ‘Better go see, Mum,' she said, unloading Jodie's stuff from the ute. ‘In fact, I might come too.'

Milly jumped up and down. ‘Purrrrfect,' she yelled, rolling her Rs. ‘You might want one too, Stacey. They're out the back.'

All four rounded the corner of the house, just in time to see Mue's little dog scoot across the back lawn with something in her mouth.

Milly ran after her. ‘Drop that kitten right now, you naughty doggy!' The dog dumped her catch, spun and bolted for the cat door into the house. She just made it before Milly kicked her bum. The size-four riding boot landed against the door instead. ‘Youch!' yelled Milly.

‘Millicent Ashton. You are not to kick a dog. Even a naughty one,' said Jodie, coming up behind her daughter. Her palm was just itching to whack Milly's behind, but that wasn't the best way of welcoming herself home.

To her credit, Milly looked repentant. ‘Sorry, Mum. It's just she thinks the kittens are hers and she tries to steal them. And the mummy cat isn't well enough to get them back!' The indignant note in the girl's voice was commendable. And really, what kind of mother couldn't relate to a protective instinct like that?

After casting another apologetic glance at her mother, Milly ran across the garden towards a mewling scrap of grey fur. Jodie
watched her child gently gather the kitten up. That was Milly. A rescuer. A nurturer.
A bit like herself.

‘Far out! Aren't they gorgeous?' said Stacey, who was by now peering into an old washing basket sitting under the shade of the back verandah. ‘How many are there? One, two, three, four …'

‘There's five, but the one I've got is the cutest,' said Milly, bringing the kitten to Jodie for inspection.

And Jodie had to admit that although she was a dog person, the furry double-coated, dark-eyed little poppet of a face peering out from her daughter's hands
was
cute. Very cute, in fact.

‘So can we have it?' Milly pleaded.

‘Whoa,' said Jodie. ‘It mightn't be available to have.'

‘But it is,' said her daughter. ‘The mum's from Mr McGregor's place and he doesn't want all these kittens.'

Jodie glanced across at Mue, a question in her eyes. The older woman nodded. ‘Alex doesn't like cats. This one was his wife's and she's really too old to be having kittens.'

‘Well, why doesn't he get her fixed up?'

Mue shrugged her shoulders. ‘That costs money. Cats don't pay their way.'

Not like cattle or sheep (on a good sale day) or even horses in some cases. Take, for instance, this horse Warrior that Alex was hankering to buy for her. He was a saleable commodity worth big bucks.

Not like these poor little buggers.

Milly was still looking up at her with urgent eyes. ‘I'll look after it, I promise, Mum.'

Jodie couldn't resist that double-whammy tug at her heart. Especially after the weekend she'd just had. It was time to get back on track. Recognise she was a mother, not a twenty-something
party-animal. Recognise the only animal allowed into her and Milly's life in the future was the tiny one in front of her. And the only party needed was a bunch of schoolkids to celebrate her daughter's birthday. That definitely excluded horses that cost big bucks and cowboys out to have a good time.

When Nate finally made it back to his ute to dump the swag, Wal was nowhere to be seen. There was evidence he'd made it home, though. A ten-gallon hat, a pile of spew and a pair of boots all mushed up together. Nate nearly vomited himself just seeing the mess. He looked around, further up the paddock, and it was then he saw what else wasn't there. A ute. A Holden Crewman. He started to run to the spot it had occupied, making it in double-quick time. And now he did really want to throw up.

She was gone.

He frantically swung around three-sixty degrees, looking for an explanation. Maybe they'd decided to shift closer to the grandstand? Maybe they'd driven to the showers? Maybe there was another patchworking day on? Neither she nor Wal had said anything about that. He needed to find the old man, ask him what he knew and what he'd seen.

He had to find her.

He searched the grandstand area, which was looking lonely and unkempt after last night's partying. He searched around each toilet block and shower trailer. He covered the whole showgrounds area without spotting one dual-cab Holden ute. They were in short supply across the board. Single cabs, Toyotas, Nissans, even the odd Hyundai, but there was no sign
of Ash and Stacey anywhere. He finally walked dejectedly back to his LandCruiser. She was gone. That was unless, of course, the patchworking idea held true. It was his only hope. But that slim possibility was dashed at the sight of Wal sitting cross-legged on the grass, leaning against a 44-gallon-drum rubbish bin. Eyes closed, grizzly face upturned to the sun, he didn't look like he was going anywhere, least of all to a hall full of gossiping women.

‘Morning,' said Wal. He didn't even open his eyes.

Nate grunted. He wasn't capable of saying anything. He felt so gutted. How could she leave? Just like that. No ‘I'll be seeing you sometime'. Not even a goodbye. How could she do this to him after such an incredible night? He didn't know where she came from. He didn't even know her last name, for fuck's sake.

His eyes landed on Wal still sitting, resting in the sun.

‘Did you see them go?'

‘Nup.'

The older man obviously knew what Nate was talking about.

‘Do you know where they came from?'

‘Nup.'

‘What their surnames were?'

‘Nup.'

‘In other words, you know jack-shit?'

‘Yup.'

Nate collapsed on the grass beside Wal. ‘Fuck it.'

Wal opened one eye briefly before grimacing and closing it again. ‘That good, huh?' was his only comment.

Nate leaned back against the drum and pulled his hat down. ‘You could say that,' he said, before closing his own eyes. Just when he thought he had her, he'd lost her. He couldn't
describe the feelings of devastation that were crashing through him. Now he knew how some of the women he'd made love to and nonchalantly fled felt like. He was a complete shit if it left them hurting like this.

How the hell was he going to find her?

‘There was only two of them in the ute.'

Nate heard Wal's voice but it took a few minutes to pierce through the self-recrimination for not pushing to find out more about her. ‘What? What did you say?'

‘Only two of them. The others have to be around somewhere.'

Nate was on his feet before he even knew where he was going. ‘Names, Wal?' He couldn't remember them for the life of him, he'd been so focused on Ash. Hell, even saying her name made him want to sink to his knees.

‘Now let me see,' and the old guy squinted. ‘Del? Danielle?' Wal chuckled to himself. ‘No, that's not right.' He opened his eyes and shot a piercing look at Nate. Then, seeing Nate's face, immediately looked contrite. ‘Let me think.' He closed his eyes again. Obviously it was easier to look at the insides of his eyelids than the agony on Nate's features.

‘You have two minutes …'

‘Geez, settle petal.' Seconds ticked by until: ‘Mel. That's it. Mel and Ange.'

Nate was gone before Wal even finished the sentence.

He returned two hours later. He couldn't find Mel or Ange anywhere. It didn't help that a lot of people were still in their swags, hungover. And he couldn't remember what the other
girls from Ash's party looked like. He'd only seen them yelling from the riverbank the day before.

Dejection must have been written on every part of him because Wal only cast one glance his way before shoving a can of rum into his hand. ‘Here. Drink.'

Nate drank. What else could he do? He pondered his diminished options. His eyes fell on Wal's sewing machine. A faint hope rose. He could try to find Beryl.

‘Don't even think about it,' said the old man, following Nate's thoughts.

‘Wal? C'mon, mate. You have to do it for me.'

‘Who says?'

Nate pursed his lips. ‘Consider it payback.'

‘What for?'

‘Bringing you home with me.'

‘A fucking huge price.'

‘C'mon. She wasn't that bad!'

‘You reckon? The woman tried to bail me up against the urn. There was more than water boiling in that kitchen.'

Nate couldn't even laugh he was so desperate. ‘Wal?' he pleaded.

Wal looked up at the sky, heaved a huge sigh. ‘Oh, for land's sake. Get in.'

‘What?'

‘I'll drive. You sure aren't in a fit state.'

Nate whistled. ‘Hey, kettle, the pot's calling.'

‘Get in the fucking truck, McGregor, before I change my mind.'

They drove to the CWA hall. Not a vehicle was to be found in the car park. Nate groaned and slumped in the seat, until he spotted something, jumped out of the vehicle and accosted a
little old lady wheeling her way down the street. She was obviously taken by his courtly manner because she told them where to find Beryl.

It was Wal's turn to slump into the seat when they pulled up outside Beryl's house. ‘Don't tell her I'm here, okay?' he whispered.

‘She can't hear you out here,' said Nate.

‘You better believe it. That woman could scent testosterone a mile away. Like a fucking bloodhound she is.'

Nate shook his head. ‘Go for a drive around the block. I'll meet you up at the corner.'

The look on Wal's face was pathetically grateful.

Beryl answered the door at the first knock. And she wouldn't tell him anything. Privacy issues, she said.

Leaning against the ute, waiting down at the corner, Wally didn't even ask. The look on Nate's face was enough.

Both men just got in and Wal drove them away.

Alex's BMW came up the drive the day after her return from Riverton and just as Jodie was getting dressed for work. Her sick leave as a result of the accident, plus some tacked-on holidays owing, were now over. And it wasn't bad timing either. She had to get her life back to normality. Milly had gone on the bus this morning. The family-day-carer would pick her up after school and Jodie would collect her at the end of her shift. When her father had been alive and retired, Milly had gone to him after school and he'd fed and cared for them both. Now though, well, things were different. The work days were long, for both mother and daughter. But they'd done it in the early years of Rhys's defection and so knew it could be done. It was what kept the world turning, food on the table and a roof over their heads.

Yet, if Alex had his way, she wouldn't have to do it much longer. The prospect, much as it made her feel guilty about not paying her own way, was certainly appealing.

The man in question was exiting his car. Tuesday morning and he was dressed in a suit. Obviously farming wasn't on his agenda for today.

‘Jodie?' he called. His voice caused a mixed reaction. Pleasure at the strong and confident way he said her name, fear at what he might read in her face. She schooled her features from their scrunch of trepidation to smooth and calm invitation.

‘Alex, how lovely to see you.' She glided to the screen door, opened it and was caught up in a hug so deep and firm she could barely breathe. ‘Alex. You'll squeeze the life out of me.' She laughed nervously.

With one last cinch she was let go and kissed somewhere near her mouth. ‘I missed you,' he said. And the way he moved forwards into the tight passage, herding her back inside and towards the bedroom, confirmed that.

‘Alex, I can't,' she said, dodging the door and moving towards the kitchen instead. A kitchen meant safety, or so she thought. Alex followed her in and pushed her up against the wooden table. So this was what going away did to him?

Okay, so there were two ways to handle this. One: have sex with him. But then, seeing she'd been in another man's bed two nights before, what did that make her? A slut, the label
some
of this small rural community would so like to stick on her?

Or two, push him away, but make sure he knows to return. Because she
needed
him to return. She wanted to marry him. To forget the insecurity. Forget the vulnerability. Forget that anybody she loved always drove away. Forget the fact a cowboy rode into her life three days ago and shot the world to hell.

‘Alex, I have to go to work, I'm sorry,' she said as she dodged his lips. She extracted her body from his arms firmly. ‘I'm due
at the nursing home in half an hour.' Actually, two hours – she was doing a split shift – but Alex didn't need to know that.

The man pursed his lips. ‘This is my homecoming?'

Who'd actually come home? Jodie sighed. She tried a smile. ‘Of course not. How about dinner? I'm working all week but the weekend's free.'

Alex was already frowning and shaking his head. ‘Unfortunately, I'm off to Melbourne. Meetings that can't be held during the week.'

And this would be her life if she married him.

Security, Jodes. For both you and your daughter. ‘Yes, of course. How about next week then?'

‘Surely we could make some time to get together before then?' said Alex, smoothing his face and moving towards her. She instinctively stepped back, hard up against the stainless-steel fridge door. He was holding out his hands. ‘I missed you, Jodie,' he said. ‘All I could think about these last few days was having you back in my arms.'

‘I'm sorry, but I have to go, Alex.' She slid out from between the fridge and the man. Picked up her handbag, keys and shopping list. Hopefully she'd still get to town in time to buy some groceries for the week. Alex took the hint and moved reluctantly towards the door, disappointment evident on his face. Taking pity on him she followed him, grabbed him around the waist and spun him back to her, planting a kiss on his lips, then quickly drew away before he got any more ideas. ‘Ring me?' she said.

Alex nodded, slowly at first then, at her smile, with more gusto. ‘Of course. I'm in town today and tomorrow. If anything happens with your work and you get some time off, ring me, will you? I'll come straight over.'

She knew exactly what he'd want to happen but she wasn't ready for that again, not yet. She told herself it was to prolong the anticipation, to make their ‘next time' all the more special. Like that sexual ‘fine wine' fairytale she'd misguidedly woven in her head. But she knew in her heart of hearts she wanted to hang on to her climb to heaven with Cowboy Nate. Holding on to the memories forever wasn't an option but until she was irrevocably Alex's and had to shutter such thoughts away, memories were all she had.

Dan Caldwell wasn't a big bloke, but judging by the respect he garnered from those standing around him at the Riverton bar, size didn't matter in the least. It was what he did and who he was that spoke volumes. The man ran his family property as a camp for troubled youth. Nate wasn't sure how he funded the operation but it had produced some hefty results, according to the barman, who wasn't shy in filling Nate in on his future employer's exploits.

‘He gets brumbies, wild horses, down from the mountains and teams them up with the kids,' said the barman, who'd introduced himself as Jake. ‘The kids work with the horses, training them and building their own skills, self-esteem and stuff. Works out well, most of the time.'

Nate nodded. His mind was only partly on the conversation but it was there enough to appreciate the time and commitment Dan must put into something so challenging. It was obviously his passion.

Passion and commitment had never bothered Nate up until now. He'd been happy to wander aimlessly and without any
real direction. But that was before Ash. He was seeing things differently now. What had he done in his thirty-four years that really counted? That was worthwhile? Like loving a woman like Ash? Like doing something which made a difference, like Dan Caldwell did? He'd wasted his life just pleasing himself and riding away.

It was time to change.

It was time to stand up and be counted.

He couldn't find Ash but maybe she might find him. Judging by how she'd left, though, that really wasn't very likely, was it?

Maybe he should help out Dan as he and Wal had planned; and if it worked out take the idea back to his father. Working with horses and kids was something Nate could really see himself doing. That was why he'd readily agreed to Wal's plan to come to the Snowy Mountains. Even though he'd never considered having any till recently, he loved children. Had been like a favourite uncle to a lot of station kids. And he loved his horses.

Ha! As if Alex McGregor would countenance having brumbies and troubled youth on his property. They didn't pay their way.

But then again, maybe they could? If Nate could find some way of a) making the project profitable or b) making his father look good to his constituents, preferably both, he'd have half a chance.

He took another look at Caldwell, who was talking to young Randall, the redheaded fella from the obstacle race who, when asked, hadn't known anything useful about Stacey and Ash either. Dan was a nice bloke and Nate knew from what the barman said that the man was trying to drum up more interest in his project, trying to extend it beyond his own family farm.

It was something worthwhile and he, Nate, had the time. He just needed Alex to agree.

Nate pondered those thoughts a while longer, while sucking on his can. The noise around the bar had increased. The barman had disappeared to the other end of the counter and was busy pouring drinks. It was the last night of the rodeo and the organisers of the whole weekend were now letting down their hair too. Good on them, they deserved it. It'd been a good weekend for some.

Shame he couldn't say the same for himself.

He slugged back some more rum, and amended that thought. It'd been good all right, the best weekend of his life. Until she left.

Wal was whistling at him, holding up a can, asking did he want another.

Nate nodded. Then made a decision. He and Wal would work with Dan for as long as it took. He'd let the beautiful Snowy Mountains weave their magic and see what came of it all.

Maybe he'd still find a will-o'-the-wisp with silver in her eyes too.