Mountain Ash (3 page)

‘Your scans are all clear. You are one very lucky campdrafter.'

Jodie could barely take his words in. She was okay! She was fine!

‘We'll need to keep you in here …'

She was fine, which meant she could go home.

‘… another four hours …'

‘But I've already been here that long!'

The doctor looked grim. ‘You have had a very serious head injury with loss of consciousness and we still haven't determined if your laceration will need stitches …' He stopped and seemed to be deciding what to say next.

Jodie started plucking at the straps still holding her to the bed.

The doctor spoke in a no-nonsense tone. ‘Listen, young lady, you need to slow down. I had a fellow last week who presented identically and he was paralysed from the waist down. You're fortunate you didn't end up in the same situation.'

Jodie stopped her plucking and saw he was deadly serious. Things could have been a whole lot worse than spending a few hours strapped to a hospital bed.

‘Yes, Brian,' she said in a small voice.

Brian's face softened and he patted her shoulder. ‘You have a lot of living left to do. And you have a beautiful daughter here.' He swung to include Milly in the conversation. ‘You need to stay in one piece to look after her.'

Guilt swamped Jodie's mind. Milly. She would do anything for her.

‘Yes, Brian,' Jodie said again.

‘We'll sort out your head wound. Either do stitches or glue it. Do you have anyone who you can stay with tonight, so you're not alone?'

Alex? But he still hadn't arrived.

‘I'll look after them,' said Mue, who was leaning forwards in her chair, listening to everything the doctor was saying. ‘They can come home with me.'

‘Oh Muey, are you sure?' said Jodie. ‘We don't want to be any trouble.'

‘No trouble at all,' said the older woman, turning to the doctor. ‘What do I need to watch for?'

‘Vomiting, increasing headache, blurred vision, photophobia …' At Mue's questioning look he explained. ‘I mean light hurting her eyes. And she needs someone to keep an eye on her, at least for the next twenty-four hours.'

Mue was nodding. ‘Right. Done.'

Jodie could have kissed the woman. Except she was still strapped down. ‘And the strapping?' she said to the doctor.

Brian finally gave a small smile. ‘It can come off. I'll organise a nurse to do it right now.' He swung to move away then turned
back. ‘And remember what I said. Take it easy. You're going to be very sore tomorrow. Rest up a bit.'

Jodie gave a small reassuring grimace of her own. ‘Okay, I will.'

As if.
She had a million things to organise – but she wasn't going to tell Dr Brian that.

She'd been giving Nathaniel the come-on look all week, and those big brown eyes were playing hell with his libido. He shifted in the saddle, trying to get more comfortable. The girl shouldn't have been let loose on the ringers, that's for sure. He looked behind him towards the dissipating mob of cattle and could see the final stragglers coming towards the yards. Thank God for that. He could get out of here real quick.

He glanced at the new governess again. She'd arrived at Mount Elizabeth station on the bus from Alice Springs. The boss's wife's niece apparently, from Melbourne's inner east. Why the hell he remembered that, he had no idea. Guessed it was because that was a lot closer to his own childhood home, Glenevelyn, far, far east of the capital of Victoria, than they were up in the territory. Glenevelyn was a sprawling mansion in a remote valley, surrounded by thousands of acres of bush – also vastly different from the dust of Mount Elizabeth.

He glanced at Danielle once more. Those scraps of clothes showed off a figure that was so good it was insane to think anything could look that perfect.

He shook himself. He was thirty-four years old. The girl barely nineteen. This place was playing with his head. Women like Danielle weren't exactly common out on a cattle station in the Northern Territory. He took another look down the paddock. He could see the top of Wally Price's high-topped Akubra hat. Good. That meant a cold shower was at least within reach. Maybe another fifteen minutes and he'd be there …

A soft hand clasped his forearm. He jumped slightly before turning to look down into what even
he
thought was an indecent amount of cleavage. What did teenage girls
do
these days to get knockers that big?

‘You look hot and bothered, Nate.'

And how did they do
that
? Pout those full lips just so …

‘Perhaps you need a bit of cooling down? I can be waiting by the homestead swimming pool in ten.'

Nate managed to lift his eyes from the decadent bosom and stare at the girl. ‘Staff aren't allowed in the boss's pool.' That wasn't strictly true but it would do for now.

‘Oh.' Danielle looked momentarily beaten. She stroked his arm with her long nails. ‘Where do you go to cool down then?' she asked.

Nate threw out an arm, waving vaguely towards his donga and the river. ‘A shower, the waterhole, wherever.'

The girl stood up straighter and leaned into his stirrup leather, a swinging fender setup that threatened to be swallowed by her bust. He tried not to think about how it would feel to be that slip of leather in all that cushiony warmth.

‘I could scrub your back?' There was a whisper of a smile, enough to make you want more …

Fuck it! ‘Errr, I don't think that'll be necessary,' he said, forcing a grin and glancing wildly around. He needed to exit this conversation pronto. ‘Plus it seems like the missus is looking for you.'

Together they turned to the right, away from the cattle-yards and pens of bellowing cattle.

He stuck up a hand, waved and yelled real loud towards the homestead grounds where he could see Marion Van Over coming from the main house. ‘She's over here!'

Danielle looked pissed. He knew
he
looked relieved, which wasn't good.

He glanced down again and saw he was right. Her face had tightened and those lovely soft brown eyes were now bruised by his rejection.

He'd seen too many chicks like her and how they worked. The Van Overs might think butter didn't melt in her mouth, but he and the boys had a fair idea. The fellas were busting their guts to jump her bones. But him? Well, he was over having a different woman in his bed every week. The ones he'd met either wanted to use him until someone better came along – a man who
owned
a property rather than just worked one, he thought in his most cynical moments – or they wanted a ring on their third finger and someone to support them. He'd never managed to find the lovely women some of his mates had, the ones who wanted you for yourself rather than for what you did - or didn't - have. He wasn't sure what he was doing wrong to only attract the likes of Danielle, but he sure as hell wished he could figure it out. In the meantime he was done with women. Casual sex was more trouble than it was worth.

‘You slackin'?' Wally Price pulled up on his horse in front of Nate, grinning, showing that he had only two remaining front teeth, courtesy of a buck-jumping career long past. Thank the Lord the old fella still had his back molars, otherwise he'd have been shovelling gruel into that gob for the rest of his life.

‘Nup. Just avoiding going fishing.'

Wally's deep-set eyes moved to follow Danielle as she stomped across to her aunt. ‘You don't like the fishies in these parts?'

Nate gave a half laugh. ‘It's not that I don't like them: I can't afford the fine. Going fishing without a licence is too risky.'

Old Wally gave a cynical cough. ‘You're not down south now, McGregor. You don't need a licence to fish up here, as you well know. Anyway, since when have you worried about doing things legally?'

Nate pulled the head of his horse around. Kicked him forwards. ‘Since I grew up,' he called. Nate heard Wally burst into laughter. He swung back around in the saddle. ‘You got a problem with “grown up”?'

The deep lines on Wally's face had collapsed into one another as he laughed, but the old man quickly sobered when he saw Nate's fixed expression. ‘Nope. But what's with the no-women policy, McGregor? You knocked back that girl, Jasmine, last week at the bar in Alice, and now you're getting all prissy over the govie.'

Nate kept his horse walking towards the stables – a corrugated iron shed held up with Mulga posts. It was an amazing tree, the Mulga. The white ants didn't touch the stuff. He decided he could take a lesson from that.

Wally plodded up from behind. His horse was his own and the gelding was an ambler, a great walker, whereas Nate's plant
horses left a lot to be desired. That's one thing he wouldn't miss here on Mount Elizabeth when he finally left. The crappy horseflesh.

‘So?' prompted Wally.

‘Yeah, well, I'm just sick of having a new woman in my bed every –'

‘Aha,' interrupted Wal. ‘Wondered how long it'd take you.'

‘Take me to do what?'

Wally pulled his horse into the hitching rail outside the stables. Slid off the old gelding's back in one swift movement and started to unhitch the girth.

‘Wally?' He hated it when the old man talked in riddles. It reminded Nate of his father, Alex. As if he wanted to be reminded about him! Especially after what that old fool had gone and done now.

‘Wally! You can't just put a line out there like that and not explain what the fuck you mean!'

‘Can't I?' Wally carried his saddle into the shade of the shed. ‘Last I heard I could do what I liked. I'm grown up too and old enough, although lookin' at me teeth you mightn't say that.' He gave another gummy grin as he walked back out into the burning sun.

‘C'mon,' said Nate, still sitting on his horse, peering down at the other bloke. ‘What took me so long to do what?'

Wally Price sighed and pushed his battered Akubra sideways to scratch his bald head. ‘I'm just saying that there comes a time in your life when ya decide to either choose a woman for keeps or be alone.' The old man pulled his hat back down tight across his forehead. ‘Me? I chose the woman. The woman I chose then wanted another bloke, someone with more dosh than me. So then I figured on finding another one,
but that took too much effort. All them flowers, teas and shit. I couldn't be fucked. So here I am, thirty years on, single and, well, reasonably happy. I got a roof over me head, three meals a day, work to do and a bit of cash at the end of the week to piss up against the wall. What more do I want, I ask you?'

The man fixed Nate with another gummy smile. ‘But you? Well, you're different. You need a woman. A good one, mind you, and I think you've just made the right choice.'

‘What? Danielle?!'

‘Fuck no! Not her.' Wally almost looked aghast, which was saying something. His expressions usually only shifted from mild surprise to a grin. ‘She's a baby. You gunna wait until you get the right one, a good one, and then you'll settle down on that fancy property of your dad's up in them hills and have billy lids until your dick falls off.'

‘Hardly,' said Nate, with a laugh. ‘I'm rather attached to my appendage.'

‘Yeah, well, that's if you can find it,' said Wally.

Nate was off his horse and had the old man in a headlock, scruffing him before Wally could say ‘Here comes the boss.'

‘McGregor! Let him go.' Ferris Van Over walked up to the two men. ‘You finished yarding those steers?'

Nate released Wally and grabbed his hat from the dirt where it had fallen. ‘Yes, sir.' One did not call Mr Van Over ‘Ferris'. Usually he was a fly-in, fly-out boss, lived in Brisbane most of the time. But recently, for some reason, he'd decided it was time his children had a taste of rural life. The fellas suspected the oldest kid, a sly little bugger, had got into some kind of trouble in town.

Nate belted his hat against the hitching rail to dust off the worst of the grunge and slapped it back on his head. ‘What would you like us to do now, boss?'

‘Take a break. The road train will be here at six tonight. I want those cattle loaded and out of here.'

‘Yes, Mr Van Over.' This came from Wally. He was looking anywhere but at the big boss. He obviously hated being caught doing the wrong thing and Van Over wasn't a Territorian – if he was he'd take skylarking in the vein that it was meant. The station owner was too city for that.

‘Nate and me'll make sure those decks are loaded,' said Wally. His tone was one step short of grovelling; Nate guessed that came from the man's recently professed need for security. Mount Elizabeth was Wally's home, a roof over his head plus board and keep. And it was all right for Nate. He could just head south back down to the mountains of East Gippsland if he had to. Regardless of what his old man had said in the past, he wasn't the type of bloke to turn his son away. Especially when said son was the heir apparent.

‘Where's Trumby?' snapped Van Over.

Wally took up the challenge. ‘Gone to town, boss. We needed more fencing materials.'

Nate waited to see if Wally was going to mention the head stockman was also trying to find his missus and patch up a fight they'd had the previous night. Living remote was tough on relationships.

But Wally didn't. He stayed silent, protecting the man they both liked and spent most of their time working for. Until recently Ferris Van Over had only appeared every month or so, flying in for a few days and then going again, leaving the station in the hands of Trumby Laws. Ferris had little idea of what was going on apart from the bottom line of the balance sheets.

‘Send him over to me when he gets back. You two go take a break … And, McGregor?'

‘Yes, Mr Van Over?'

‘Stay the hell away from my niece. She's not for the likes of you.'

‘Bu–' Nate felt something come hard down on his toes. Wally's size-twelve boot.

‘I'll see he behaves himself, boss,' said Wal, nodding, not looking at Nate.

Ferris Van Over gave them both a hard glare.

Nate lifted his chin and stared right back. Arrogant bastard. Van Over was just like his father. He didn't know who his crew were or where they came from. He didn't care just so long as the work got done. It was all about money. And it didn't matter that his niece was raring to go. The family obviously thought she was in the same league as Mother Teresa.

Van Over went to walk off, slinging words over his shoulder as he left, ‘Be back at those yards by six.'

‘Yes,
sir
,' muttered Nathaniel under his breath.

Van Over halted mid-step, went to turn, then obviously thought better of it and kept stalking away.