Taming the Outback (13 page)

“Hey, Libby, how about another beer?” Tom called. Pushing aside the lust and plastering a smile to her face, Libby joined the others for a celebration, country-style.

_***

In the morning, Libby and Tom waved off the shearers with promised booking for the next shearing. After seeing the kids off on the school bus, she followed Tom to the yards to start the job she was dreading the most: docking the tails and testicles of the lambs who were now running with their mothers.

Running them through the race, Tom grabbed the first lamb and showed her how to flip it onto its back and place a ring on its tail.

“You have to hold them tight and be quick about it.” He demonstrated on the wriggling animal and handed her the docking tool. Letting the lamb go, he motioned to Libby to take his place. Grabbing a handful of wiry, short wool, Libby lifted the next lamb onto the makeshift table, flipping it over.

“It’s a boy.” She grimaced in Tom’s direction.

“You can do it Lib, pull the sac up and slip the ring on it at the base. See, easy,” he said as she followed his instructions. “Now do the tail.”

Letting the lamb go, she grabbed another, and soon, they were powering through the herd.

The sky was darkening by the time the last lamb had been done. With no time for a sit-down lunch to rest her weary back, Libby grabbed a couple of apples and water bottles and met Tom at the stable to find he’d already saddled her horse.

“We need to get the cattle to higher ground first, and then if we have time, I want to move the pump up as well. Damned thing is a pain to clean out if it goes under water, which is more than likely by all accounts.”

“What makes you think this is going to be worse than any other wet season?”

“I’ve got a mate in Longreach, Kerry Doyle. His thing is the weather, studies it like some people study the stars. The high hanging over the top end of Australia is going to bring massive amounts of water according to him. He reckons there will be a lot of flooding in some of the low-lying areas, and we could be isolated from town if we’re unlucky. He seems to think we will be, so I want to be prepared for anything, and he’s usually right.” Tom gazed around at the stock they needed to herd into the top paddock. “I’ve told all the neighbors, so it’s now a case of every man for himself. Can you ride around the top side, Libby, and I’ll open the gate and meet you round the back of the stock.”

Libby cantered off on her horse to do Toms bidding, yelling at the cattle to move them on to the next paddock and higher ground as the rain started to fall steadily in thick sheets.

By the time they had the pump up out of the path of the water, it was late afternoon, and they were both chilled to the bone. The rain was getting heavier, and the thunder was getting closer, making the late afternoon sky dark, broken only by flashes of lightening.

“The kids will be wondering where we are.” She cast her eyes skyward, the chill getting into her bones.

“They’ll be all right. Winton will know we’re out getting ready for the storm, and he’s seen it all before. Besides, they’re safe together at the house,” Tom said.

Libby headed for the bathroom for a long soak in the deep, old-fashioned bath. She was frozen from the rain, and her back was hurting in places she didn’t know she had. She just needed to soak and relax for an hour before she started dinner.

She filled the bath with hot water, adding a generous amount of scented bath oil, and gingerly lowered herself in. A great sigh escaped her lips as she leaned back in the tub. Grabbing a soft cloth, Libby soaped it up and ran it along her arms and shoulders, the suds clinging to her throat before sliding down her wet body and collecting on her nipples before floating onto the water’s surface.

Libby soaped her hands and ran her fingers over her now perky nipples, her eyes closing as she relaxed. The image in her mind was of Nathan whipping her body into a frenzy, and she slipped lower in the water, her fingers sliding down her body.

_***

“Mum, Mum, wake up.” Holly was shaking Libby’s arm.

She sat up, the water around her now almost cold. Libby looked at her daughter standing beside the bath and groaned.

“Mmm, must have fallen asleep, baby,” she mumbled. She sat up and pulled the plug from the bath, sitting in the cool receding water until she got her bearings. Libby pulled a towel from the rack beside her and stood. She wrapped herself in it before stepping from the tub. She dried off and walked to her room, her weary aching body screaming for sleep. Ignoring her soft, inviting bed, she walked past it and pulled some clothes out of her dresser, mechanically pulling them on. Running her hand through her hair, she twisted it up and clipped it in a knot. She padded barefoot to the kitchen with Holly and Henry beside her.

“Tom, I am so sorry.” She glanced guiltily at the dinner he’d cooked while she had languished in the tub. ‘”You worked harder than me, and you should be the one resting, not me.”

“Stop beating yourself up, woman.” He grabbed plates from the sideboard and laid them out on the table. He then dished up a big feed of bacon and eggs and chips. “The world won’t fall apart if you don’t have everything under control, you know.”

“I know you’re right, but I’m not used to having anyone doing for me.” She gladly accepted the food, the smell waking her and making her stomach rumble loudly.

“Deal with it.” Tom smiled. “If it makes you feel any better, you can do the dishes.”

“Done,” she agreed, tucking into her food. It had been a hard few days, and tomorrow wouldn’t be any easier, with the house to batten down and the shed to clear in case the water swamped that as well.

_***

When they woke the next morning, it was to the sound of heavy rain tattooing a steady beat on the old tin roof. The water overfilled the gutters and fell in sheets around the house. The humidity in the ground and the rain combined to fog up the windows Holly was drawing stick fingers on.

Tom advised Libby to keep the kids home from school, much to their delight. They would be more use on the station, anyway, as the amount of stock needing to be moved was more than Tom and Libby could cope with on their own.

Tom sent Josh and Winton with two of the dogs in one direction, while he saddled up to go in another.

“Please, Tom,” Holly begged. “Let me come too. I can ride good enough now.”

Tom looked over her head to where Libby was shaking her head. He was fast becoming her favorite person, and she dogged his every step.

“Do you think it’ll be safe?” she asked, trying to avoid the pleading look in her baby’s eyes.

“I’d never take her if it wasn’t, Libby,” he said. “I want to stay this side of the creek if I can, but she should be fine if she’s rugged up against the wet. I don’t expect any flooding to hit us until tomorrow at any rate.”

“Get your coat, Holly, and your hat.” Libby’s stomach clenched at the thought of a flood now that the possibility was here. Turning back to Tom, she asked, “What should I do here?”

“If you could lug the stock feed bags up into the shearing shed in case the water comes in here; that would save us a heap of money. Any tools that are lying around can be put up high. Move the truck out onto the high side of the driveway too.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. “The water pump on the house tanks could be put up on something, just in case, there are some old, concrete blocks out the back of the stables you can use. You might want to fill some jugs with water in case the pump gets caught. Fill the generator with diesel and make sure you put candles and torches where we can find them easily enough. Fairly good chance we could lose power too if we get enough of a storm tonight. That should take care of things until I get back.”

Libby helped to saddle up Puddin’ and watched as they headed out, the older dog with Tom. She headed back to the kitchen for a quick coffee and to get out the torches and candles as Tom had suggested. Deciding a casserole was a good idea for dinner, she put some steak and vegetables in the slow cooker and putting her hat on her head, ran through the rain to move the feed up into the shearing shed.

Libby found a small trolley and moved the heavy sacks of grain, one at a time, struggling with the weight of them while her mind ran over the dangers heading their way. She kept her eye on the door, looking for Tom and Holly to come back through the downpour. The rain grew heavier as the morning progressed. Libby stood and looked in the direction they had ridden hours before, and a small seed of doubt niggled in the back her mind. She squinted to see through the rain, but nothing was moving in her direction. Even the stock was huddled with their backs to the rain, heads down as they waited it out.

He knows what he’s doing
.

Winton was brought up in this environment too, and Josh could ride well enough. Tom knew more about the place than anyone else, and her baby would be safe with him. She knew that, but still, a small trickle of fear shivered up and down her spine as she looked out into the worsening weather.

She ran back through the rain to grab a coffee and sandwich and see to the pups that were at a loss without the kids. They whimpered at the door, pacing and unable to settle down, making her already unsettled nerves ratchet up a notch. She stared at the phone on the wall with the neighbor’s numbers beside it.

Should I call someone? Pull yourself together, Libby. What are you going to say?
“Hi, Nathan, it’s Libby. Tom and the kids are out in the rain bringing in the stock, and I have a funny feeling.”

Deal with it.

They have a lot of ground to cover, and it’s pouring down rain. Go do something and make yourself useful.
She had never been a drama queen, and now wasn’t the time to start; there was still too much to do.

Libby jammed her sodden hat back on her head. She ran over to the shed again, slipping and landing in puddles deeper than they looked. Her boots filled with cold, muddy water, squelching as she ran. The shed was getting that musty, wet smell she remembered from rainy school lunch breaks when everyone had to eat in the covered, outdoor area with wet socks and shoes.

The stock feed had been moved, and she’d sorted out most of the tools. The lambs could do with a feed by the noise they were making. She made up their bottles and ran through the rain around to the stable, sat herself down on a bale of damp hay, held the bottles out to them and watched, fascinated, as they drained bottle after bottle.

The loud sound of horse’s hooves striking through water attracted her attention, and she looked up to see Josh and Winton cantering down the drive through the puddles and pouring rain toward the shed. Dropping the bottles on the straw-strewn floor, she ran out to meet them.

Both boys were dripping with rain, and their eyes were huge in their frightened faces. Libby’s heart dropped to her stomach as she grabbed the reins of the closest horse.

“Mum, the creeks come up, and we can’t find Tom and Libby,” Josh cried. “They must’ve crossed over.”

“No.” The fear gripped her stomach into a tight knot, which threatened to bring up her coffee.

“Call Nathan, missus,” Winton yelled over the noise of the storm as he turned his horse back to the drive. “We’ll ride over to his place and see if we can get to them from that side. Come on, Josh.”

They trotted off down the driveway toward the road, working up to a full gallop before Libby could move. She ran toward the house, suddenly oblivious to the weather.

Please, be there. Oh God, please, be there.
With cold hands, she grabbed the phone off the wall and punched in his number.

The phone rang and rang before a stranger answered. He was one of the farm workers, and he told her Nathan was bringing in his cows to the house paddocks but promised to get someone to tell him straight away.

“Stay by the phone; I’ll get the boss to call you back,” he said before hanging up on her.

Libby hung the phone up and slid down the wall to sit on the floor, her arms wrapped around her knees as her body trembled.

She would never forgive herself if something happened to them.
My baby and Tom, I couldn’t bear it if they don’t come back. I should never have let them go out there.

The shrill ring of the phone jolted her out of her horror, and she jumped up, pulling it roughly to her ear.

“Nathan,” she begged, the tears falling now. “Help me, please.”

“Where did they go?” he asked, his voice hard.

“To bring in the cows by the creek.” She winced at his tone. “He said he wasn’t going to cross it, but the boys couldn’t find him. He’s taken Holly with him, Nathan. What am I going to do?”

“For God’s sake, I can’t believe you let them go out in this. She’s just a little kid. Stay put and wait for me to call you back,” he stated. “I’ll take some of my men out, and we’ll find them.” He hung up without another word.

Libby walked around the kitchen, moving cups and running her hand over the table while constantly looking out the door into the rain. She couldn’t see across the driveway to the shed now. The rain was falling so hard. Before she could talk herself out of it, she grabbed the keys and ran out to the truck. She drove slowly, scared when she saw how much rain was on the road and in the front paddocks. The stock grate at the end of the driveway was full and overflowing. The dips on the sides of the road were gushing like tiny torrents into any low areas in the paddocks, pushing new rivers through the long grasses. Fences were almost under in some places, and she thanked God they had moved most of their stock in time. The amount of water coming down horrified her, but she pushed on toward Nathan’s farm.