Right As Rain (39 page)

“Are you sure you didn't misunderstand?”

“No. My parents think the place should be Patrick's.”

“What does Patrick think?”

“Probably that he's landed on his feet. He'll get a farm for little effort but he won't find it's that easy.”

“Your dad's health is good now, isn't it?”

“As far as I know.”

“Then aren't we talking about something that won't happen for a long time?”

“Yes, I hope so, but that's not the point. Woolly Swamp is making great improvements and even if money is tight right now, I don't imagine it will always be. I know it sounds like I'm blowing my own trumpet but at least some of it's due to me. If anything happens to Dad, Patrick can walk in and have the lot. I could work half my life and be left with nothing to show for it.”

“Patrick's spoken to me about his work and how much he enjoys it. I've never had the feeling he sees a permanent place for himself here.”

Mackenna thought about that. She remembered a conversation before her parents went to New Zealand. Patrick had hinted then that Louise had some plan in mind. Sometimes he'd become antsy during the last few months when she'd tried to tell him what to do but he'd never been cocky. Now she'd discovered he'd been blamed for several issues that had turned out to be due to Cam's poor workmanship. She put her hands to her head.

“I don't know,” she growled. “Nothing's been the same since I came back from holidays.”

A vehicle pulled up. She looked out the door and came back.

“It's Patrick and Yasmine.”

“I don't think he knows any more about this than you did.” Adam put a hand on her shoulder. “You've prepared a great meal,” he said. “Let's enjoy it and worry about what might be tomorrow.”

“You sound so like my dad.”

“Lyle's a good bloke.” Adam went back to his mixing bowl. “I guess I'm not making apricot puddings,” he said.

Mackenna gave him a coy smile. “I've got frozen berries.” “They'll do,” he said.

“Open it up, please.” Yasmine hopped from one leg to the other. Her face glowed. There was no sign of her earlier light-headedness.

They were standing around Mackenna's kitchen table and in the centre lay a large, paper wrapped parcel tied with a bow. Patrick had carried it in and set it down carefully.

Mackenna studied the gift. It had to be some kind of picture. Adam had encouraged her to make the best of the evening and that's what she'd determined to do but it wasn't so easy with Patrick right beside her.

His eyes were bright like Yasmine's, full of expectation, with no sign of deceit. Perhaps Adam was right. Patrick was unaware of their parents' plans.

She pulled the soft green bow from the paper and began to pick at the sticky tape.

“Just rip it off,” Patrick said leaning forward to help her.

“Patrick.” Yasmine put a restraining hand on his arm. “This is Mackenna's gift.”

“You didn't need . . .” The words dried in her mouth as she slid the framed photograph from its cover. It was a black and white picture of her with her father in the yards. Neither of them was looking at the camera, they were intent on the sheep they were drafting.

“Do you like it?”

“It's . . . when did you . . .?”

Patrick chuckled. “Yasmine's taken hundreds of photos. Sit at the table. She's got something else to show you.”

Adam came and stood behind Mackenna. “That's a great photo, Yassie,” he said.

“I thought you might like it for your dining room wall.” Yasmine smiled at Mackenna.

“It's perfect.” Mackenna gave Yasmine a quick hug. “Thanks. I love it.”

Patrick opened the laptop and placed it on the table between the two women.

Mackenna was nervous. What were they going to show her now? “I've got food to prepare,” she said.

“Everything's done until we're ready to eat.” Adam placed a gentle hand on her shoulder.

Yasmine was busy typing. A web browser opened and then a page with the heading
Woolly Swamp Corriedales
across the top. Various photos of their sheep and the farm rolled across the bottom of the page and then some smaller headings and a welcome message.

“What do you think?” Patrick asked.

“It's not finished,” Yasmine added. “I can change it any way you like, but Patrick said you need a new web presence.”

“What are you all looking at?”

Mackenna glanced up as her mother came through the door, closely followed by Lyle carrying a shopping bag.

“The new Woolly Swamp website,” Patrick said.

A frown creased Louise's face. “I thought we agreed it was too expensive to get one made.” She glared at Mackenna.

“There's no cost except the hosting,”Yasmine said. “I make them for people but for family it's free.”

“That's very generous,” Lyle said. “I'd like to look at it.”

Louise shivered and rubbed her hands together.

“Why don't you head into the dining room?” Mackenna said. “Take the laptop with you. Adam and I will bring down the soup.”

“I've got parcels for everyone from New Zealand,” Louise said. “Don't be long with the soup. Yasmine needs feeding up.”

Mackenna clenched her nails into her palms as she watched her mother herd the others towards the dining room.

“Breathe,” Adam whispered in her ear.

“I'm determined not to let her get under my skin.”

“Your lamb and barley soup will be a hit.”

“I think we'll need more than that.” Mackenna glanced from the soup she was serving to Adam. “You make sure their glasses are topped up . . . and mine.”

Adam was right about the soup. By the time everyone had emptied their bowls and had some wine the conversation flowed easily. Louise and Lyle were full of holiday stories and they handed out small gifts for everyone.

Mackenna and Yasmine got jade bracelets. Patrick and Adam had wool and possum blend socks.

“You've probably got several pairs already but you might need them for our winter if you're planning to stay,” Louise said.

“Thank you,” he replied and winked at Mackenna. “I'm planning to make Mackenna's home my home.”

Mackenna felt her knees tremble. How had she lived without him? “I'm not sure where that home might be, though.” She looked at her mother.

“You've always got a home here,” Lyle said.

“As have you and Yasmine,” Louise said, nodding at Patrick.

“Right.” Adam jumped up. “Pass those plates and I'll get the next course.”

“I'll help you,” Mackenna said.

“No. My treat. You spend time with your family. Everything's ready, I just have to cook the lamb chops.”

“Let me carry something,” Yasmine said. “You've only got one arm.”

“It's amazing how much I've learnt to do that way.”

Their voices faded away down the passage. Mackenna got up to put more wood on the fire.

“Perhaps you can tell us why you needed to fire our working man,” Louise said as Mackenna came back to the table.

Instantly the tension was back in her chest. “He was stealing from us.”

“Taking the odd extra run in the truck,” Louise said.

“You're the one counting the money,” Mackenna snapped.

They glared at each other.

“He did disappear from time to time,” Lyle said.

“He blamed me for jobs he messed up.” Patrick poured them all more wine. Mackenna took a big mouthful.

“I agree that wasn't very sensible but not a sackable offence,” Louise said. “Anyway, we've got everyone here now. In some ways it's good not to have to pay that extra wage with money being a bit tight.”

“Well if I'm not here you might need to.” Mackenna pushed back her chair.

“That's enough.” Lyle barked. “Sit down, Mackenna. We need to sort this out once and for all.”

“Not now, Lyle,” Louise said. “Don't get yourself worked up.”

“Yes, now.” He picked up his wife's hand. “I know we thought we were doing the right thing back when I was sick . . .” His voice trailed off.

“What's going on?” Patrick asked. He screwed up his face and sent a pleading look to Mackenna.

“We need to make some decisions about the future of Woolly Swamp, should anything happen to me,” Lyle finished.

“But you're much better, Dad,” Patrick said.

“Yes, and I hope to be around to watch you all go grey, but we still need a plan for the future. You both need security.”

“And they've got it,” Louise warned.

“Wait a minute,” Patrick said. “This isn't still about me having a piece of Woolly Swamp, is it?”

“You're entitled.” Louise said.

A surge of anger coursed through Mackenna.

“I thought you were just being generous because I'd helped out a bit.” Patrick looked at his father. “I'm happy to help and I'm grateful for the support with the car but I'm not a farmer, Dad. You know that.”

“You haven't had the opportunity, Patrick.” Louise's tone had softened.

“I don't get it.” Patrick shook his head.

“Oh for goodness sake.” Mackenna thumped the table. “They're leaving everything to you – the farm, the whole kit and caboodle.” She stood up again.

“You can't be serious?”

“Nothing's set in concrete,” Lyle said quietly.

“I could do with a bigger income,” Patrick said with a smirk.

“Good luck with that,” Mackenna snarled. “The only thing they can't leave you is my slave labour. From now on I want to earn a decent wage for all I do.”

Mackenna glared from her mother's stony face to the shocked faces of her brother and father. There was a tiny sound from the doorway.

“The dinner is ready.” Yasmine came through carrying plates of lamb cutlets and steaming vegetables.

Mackenna stepped round her and out the door.

“Wait, Mackenna.”

She ignored Patrick's call and stormed into the kitchen, where Adam was serving up the last of the plates. He looked up.

“What's happened?”

“They've finally admitted it.”

“Who? What?”

“My parents are giving Patrick the farm and he thinks it's a good idea.”

“Mackenna, I was joking.” Patrick had followed her. He stood framed in the doorway, hands on hips, his face in a worried smile.

“I don't find it funny,” she snapped.

“You've never had much of a sense of humour. Work's the only thing that makes you happy.”

She opened her mouth to retort but nothing came to mind. Was that how he saw her – a humourless workaholic?

“Can't we just enjoy our food?” Adam said. He passed them a plate each and picked up the last one for himself. “It's a welcome home dinner. Maybe you should have your business meeting tomorrow and Yas and I will disappear for a while.”

Mackenna could have hugged him. It felt so good to have someone watching her back. He brushed his lips across her cheek as he passed.

“Food's getting cold, guys.”

She followed him to the dining room, Patrick's footsteps echoing behind her.

Adam put another log on the fire. As family dinners went it had been stiff and stilted. He was proud of the way Mackenna had held it together in the end. He knew how much she loved Woolly Swamp and the turmoil she was going through.

Louise and Lyle had left as soon as they'd eaten their main course. They were both weary and Adam could see the extra distress the family argument had put on them. Patrick had stayed for dessert. It was Yasmine's favourite part of the meal. She still didn't eat much meat.

Since they'd left, Adam and Mackenna had said little to each other. They'd moved in tandem, clearing dishes, stripping the table, cleaning up. He turned as he heard her cross the dining room floor. He held out his good arm and she stepped into it.

“Thank God I have you,” she mumbled into his neck.

“Let's sit down,” he said. “I'm guessing you want to talk.”

Mackenna sank onto the couch and put her head in her hands.

“We could leave them to it,” he said. “Make a whole new start somewhere else.”

She turned her head. “You're right. Maybe even Mum's right. This is no life for me. You and I could run a restaurant together instead, maybe in New Zealand. As long as I'm with you I don't care.”

Adam studied her face. He'd never wanted the tie or responsibility of running his own place before, but maybe together they could make a go of it. She cuddled in. He ran his fingers over her curls and stared into the fire. He'd never had a lot of ambition. He'd gone where life had taken him. Happy to work and travel, try different places, meet new people, but when he met Mackenna he knew that she was where he wanted to be, regardless of wherever that was.

He liked being at Woolly Swamp and he'd enjoyed sharing the Gatehouse tasting room concept with her. For the first time in a long time he felt real pleasure in creating food for people. If they left here, they might be able to find something similar they could do together.

“What about your family?” he said. “I know this has been a tough time but you're close. If we move away you'll miss them.”

“You've moved away.”

“Mum and I catch up on the phone most of the time. I spent time with her while Grandpa was sick. My step-dad couldn't be there until the funeral.”

“I feel so selfish.”

“Why?”

“I've hardly asked you about your family and you know all the ins and outs of mine, warts and all.”

“There's nothing much to tell. I'm an only child. My parents divorced when I was young. I don't see my dad much. We've nothing in common and I haven't lived at Mum's for a long time.”