The Last Mile Home (8 page)

‘But we're only kissing,' she'd answered.

He'd dropped his arms. ‘It's hard for blokes to . . . stop. You know . . .' But she didn't know. Instead she had been hurt, thinking he hadn't really liked kissing her. Then suddenly he'd got a new contract and was gone without a goodbye. Being a farm girl she knew about sexual reproduction but she was not worldly. She had a vague knowledge of contraception from her St John Ambulance course and simple questions she'd asked her mother. The Wedding Night — girls whispered about it, giggled and groaned and said it was worse than having a baby. But like she'd told Kevin, Abby just hoped that when the time came it would all come naturally and be as her mother had promised — special and wonderful.

Two days later, when Abby was helping her mother peg out the huge pile of washing, Shannon
appeared and asked Abby if she would go riding with her the following morning.

‘My horse is frisky and Mum and Dad won't allow me to go alone, can you come along? You can take Jolly the stockhorse out, he hasn't been exercised for a bit.'

Abby hesitated as it seemed more of an order than a request. Gwen spoke quickly. ‘You go ahead, luv. It'd be nice for you. I can manage around here.' She adjusted the fork of the wooden clothes prop under the sagging line, and Abby helped her push it upright and brace the heavy line of sheets, towels, shirts and trousers.

‘I'm supposed to be looking for a job, but I'd like that, Shannon.'

‘Good. Come up to the barn after breakfast. You'll probably have a devil of a job catching Jolly.'

But when Abby arrived at the Pembertons' barn which served as a stable, she found Jolly saddled and standing quietly next to a dark brown thoroughbred and sleek black Arabian.

‘Shannon?' called Abby.

‘Coming, Abby.' Shannon came out followed by Barney. ‘We have company. Barney couldn't come two days ago, now he can.' She gazed flirtaciously at him.

‘Oh. That's good,' said Abby, suddenly feeling
like the unwanted third that made a crowd. She eyed Shannon's smart beige jodhpurs, tartan shirt and elegant boots and felt uncomfortable in her faded jodhpurs, cotton jumper and old elastic-sided work boots. But Barney's gentle smile, which seemed to say ‘I'm glad you're here,' put her at ease.

They swung into the saddles and Shannon led the way as the horses lifted their heads, anxious to step out in the fresh morning air. Once they'd left the pasture and trotted along the dirt track that led towards the scrub-covered ridge, Shannon rode beside Barney, chattering all the while. Abby, bringing up the rear, relaxed and began to enjoy herself; she hadn't ridden just for pleasure in a long time. Generally she was on a horse to work and although she enjoyed it, riding for the sheer pleasure of it was a rare treat.

They rode for forty minutes then stopped and dismounted at the head of the small ridge. They sat and rested, admiring the view.

‘How you feeling, Abby? You've been very quiet,' commented Barney. He gave her a quick wink behind Shannon's back.

‘I've been enjoying the ride. It's pretty up here.'

‘Well, let's make a move,' said Shannon abruptly. ‘What say we take the steep side of the
hill back? Be a bit of a challenge rather than going down the way we came.'

‘You're dying to give that horse a bit of a test run, aren't you?' said Barney.

‘Why not? You game, Abby?'

‘Jolly seems sensible; we'll be right,' answered Abby, not about to be put down by Shannon.

The three set off, each finding their own trail down the steep hillside towards the gully and the road. Abby leaned back in the saddle letting Jolly have his head and find his own footing. When they reached the flat, they were flushed with exhilaration.

Shannon swung around in her saddle and shouted, ‘Race you home!' She kicked the horse into a gallop and Barney and Abby took off behind her.

They grouped together, the pounding of their horses' hooves and the cracking of twigs echoing through the bush lit by the strands of sunlight and melting dew.

Shannon rode close behind Barney, who glanced back at Abby and reined into a canter. ‘You all right, Abby?' he called.

She gave a wave and nodded. Shannon, who had been carrying a broken twig as a crop, leaned over to Barney's horse and teasingly whacked it under its arched tail. ‘Come on, Barney, get a move on!'

Barney's horse, highstrung and toey at the best of times, didn't race off as Shannon expected, but jammed its tail down and bucked in annoyance. It happened swiftly and Barney, caught unawares, lost his balance, and fell heavily to the ground.

Abby wheeled about and was off her horse before Shannon realised what had happened. By the time she turned and raced back, Abby was gently examining Barney, who appeared to be unconscious.

‘Oh my God, Barney!' Shannon screeched, sliding from her horse.

Abby lifted his limp hand and ran her hands over his neck and shoulders.

‘Is he all right? Oh God, he looks dead!' gasped Shannon.

‘He'll be all right, he's just knocked himself out for a minute,' said Abby.

‘Are you sure?' Shannon was shaking as she patted his hand. ‘Oh dear, what'11 we do?'

‘I'm just seeing if anything is broken before we move him.' Abby lifted one of Barney's eyelids and, as his eyes gradually focused, he groaned.

‘Barney, Barney, are you all right? Say something.' Shannon started again. She wrung her hands, knowing she was responsible for the accident.

‘Please, Shannon, go and get a car. We'll have to take him in to the doctor.'

‘Shouldn't he go to the hospital? What about the Flying Doctor?'

‘Shannon, go and get a car,' said Abby in exasperation.

Shannon silently remounted and galloped off.

After a minute or so, Barney stirred and lifted a hand to his head, mumbling, ‘Good grief, what happened? Did I take a spill?'

‘Don't try and get up. We'll get you in to the doctor, I think you've dislocated your shoulder.'

Barney tried to move and winced. ‘Feels broken.'

‘No, you'll be right. Be a bit of a painful trip in, unless you want me to snap it back in place now. I've done it before, but if you can wait, it will better for the doctor to do it with a needle. It hurts otherwise.'

‘You know something about all this then?'

‘I did a St John's course and I've had a bit of practice here and there,' smiled Abby.

Barney lay his head back down and closed his eyes as Abby stroked his forehead.

Soon the Pembertons' utility truck bumped erratically towards them.

‘That'll be Shannon. She was a bit hysterical. I think I'd better drive.'

Barney nodded.

Shannon stopped the truck and jumped out,
talking so fast they could barely understand her. ‘This is all I could get, couldn't find anyone, should I have phoned, what are we going to do, how are we going to get him in, are we going to fit?'

‘Listen, Shannon,' said Abby calmly, ‘I'll drive him in to town, he's damaged his shoulder, maybe his collarbone. Only two of us can fit in the seat of the ute. You look after the horses.'

Shannon didn't look pleased. She felt flustered and insecure in the face of Abby's calm and authoritative manner. She didn't like the idea of Abby taking control of Barney. ‘No, let me help.'

‘Please, Shannon, let Abby, she knows about medical stuff,' said Barney feebly.

The two girls helped him to his feet and, with Abby directing, they got him into the cabin. ‘Take the horses back, Shannon, and call the doctor and tell him we're on our way, and if you wouldn't mind, phone the Holtens and my mother as they might wonder where we are.'

Shannon nodded and turned her attention to the horses, looking very put out.

Doctor Malone concurred that it was indeed a dislocated shoulder, gave Barney an injection and relocated the shoulder. He was impressed with Abby's calmness and practical skill and looked
thoughtful as they chatted. ‘I've seen you and your family in church and at the community picnic. How about a cup of tea?'

‘That wouldn't go astray, that's for sure,' said Barney.

‘Can I help, Doctor Malone,' offered Abby. ‘Don't you have an assistant?'

‘Did have till three days ago when she took off for the city. Not a word of warning.' Doctor Malone suddenly looked at Abby. ‘You want a job? Can you type?'

Abby stared at him. ‘I am looking for work actually. My typing is a bit rusty, but I just need to practice a bit.'

‘I can recommend her nursing skills,' added Barney.

‘Bring the patient back in a week for a checkup and we'll talk about the details. I'll struggle on till then. It's nothing glamorous, no Florence Nightingale stuff, I'm afraid, Abby. Mainly making appointments, writing up files and so forth.'

‘It sounds perfect. I'm very grateful, Doctor Malone. I'll do my best.'

The doctor smiled at her. ‘Righto then. Get him home. Keep the arm in the sling till I see you next week, Barney, and take these painkillers — one now and one just in case you need it tonight.'

Despite his drowsiness in the car driving home,
Barney was enthusiastic about Abby's job offer. ‘If I hadn't fallen off, you wouldn't have been offered the job. So I'm glad this has happened.'

‘I'm glad about the job too. I hope it comes off.'

‘Listen, we have a typewriter in the shed; I'll look it out for you. It's an old Remington that came out of the ark, but you're welcome to bash away at it. How are you going to get into town every day? Drive Betsy?'

‘I've been thinking about that. I think I'll get the school bus and ask Doctor Malone whether I could leave at four to get the bus home if I took a short lunch break.'

‘I'm sure he'll agree. People are pretty accommodating round here, knowing the distances people have to travel.' Barney's head began to droop and soon he fell asleep, his head lolling and coming to rest on Abby's shoulder. She drove slowly, savouring the sensation of his closeness.

When they reached the gate leading to Amba, Abby sat in the car, reluctant to disturb Barney in order to get out and open the gate.

He stirred and glanced up at her, asking sleepily, ‘Are we home?' He realised he was leaning against her and he straightened up, looking into her eyes.

‘Yes, Barney, you're home,' she said softly. Barney leaned over and gently kissed her lips.
Surprised, a flush swept over Abby's cheeks. Before she could respond, Barney reached to touch her hair but winced in pain as he moved his shoulder.

Abby got out of the car and opened the gate, drove through, closed it and drove to the house in silence. She helped Barney down, he squeezed her hand and went into the house. Abby drove back to Anglesea, the taste and memory of Barney's kiss lingering on her lips.

A
BBY PLACED THE LAST PATIENT'S FILE IN THE
filing cabinet and slid the drawer shut. She smoothed her hair, unused to the neat French roll, and picked up her bag. The bell above the door tinkled as it was opened. Abby turned to say the doctor was out but instead gave a big smile as Barney came through the door holding his hat.

‘Hello, Abby. How's it going?'

‘Great. Are you here to see Doctor Malone or to make an appointment?'

‘Neither, actually. I was hoping you might be free at lunchtime. I'm in town today.'

‘I was just about to walk out the door for my lunch. I bring my own but eat it in the park.'

‘How about I pick up a sandwich, a couple of milkshakes and we eat together?'

‘That would be nice,' said Abby. ‘By the way, thanks for the loan of the typewriter. And how's the shoulder? I see you've dumped the sling.'

‘I'm coming along fine now.'

They strolled along the street, shaded from the midday sun by shop awnings.

‘So you're enjoying the job then?'

‘Yes. Doctor Malone is very nice. I'm learning all sorts of things and I'm meeting lots of people.'

Barney turned into the Athena Cafe. ‘What flavour milkshake?'

‘Chocolate, please.'

In the park they spread their little picnic between them on a broad bench shaded by a jacaranda tree.

‘Want half my corned beef and tomato?' offered Barney.

‘No thanks, I'll stick to my tuna. It's Friday,' smiled Abby.

‘Friday? Oh yes, no meat . . . So tell me who you've been meeting. Been invited out by all the young men in town?'

‘Not yet. I'm mainly meeting old blokes with crook knees and old ladies with arthritis.' Abby
gave a mock grimace, then brightened. ‘I have met Cheryl Maddocks again, though. She's asked me to join the local hockey team. I haven't played for years but I said I'd think about it. Though it would mean making time to train and for games every Saturday.'

‘Go on, be in it,' said Barney encouragingly. ‘You've got to have some fun too, Abby.'

Abby looked at him over her milkshake and smiled. ‘And what do you do for fun then, Barney?'

Barney stared into her large dark blue eyes. For a moment he couldn't think. He didn't seem to have much fun in his life, unlike the McBrides, who seemed collectively to get so much fun out of everything. ‘Well, I . . . er . . . play tennis and cricket occasionally. Get dragged to the odd ball.' He hesitated then went on, amazed at the rashness of his sudden decision. ‘I'll tell you what, though, I'll come and watch your first hockey game. Promise. Let me know when your first match is on.'

‘Watching girls' hockey might be seen as a bit odd, wouldn't it?' said Abby with a raised eyebrow. ‘People might get ideas.' She didn't add ‘about us' as it seemed presumptuous, but she knew how people liked to gossip in a small town.

‘I couldn't care less what people think. It'll be fun . . . if not funny perhaps.'

Abby gave him a playful shove. ‘Time to get back to work. Thanks for the company.'

He walked her back to the surgery and as she thanked him, he added, ‘Look, I'll be in town for a bit, appointments and such. Do you want a ride home?'

‘Oh, the bus is working out all right. Thanks just the same.'

‘But I'd like the company. You'd be doing me a favour. Phone the bus office and tell them you've got a ride so the kids won't worry and hold the bus for you. Please, Abby.'

She felt her resistance crumble. What was the harm? She did enjoy his company. ‘All right, Barney. Thanks.'

‘I'll be waiting here a bit after four.'

It was a pleasant ride home. Each felt relaxed and comfortable. They chatted easily and laughed often. As Barney recounted an anecdote about his first day on the job in Sydney, it suddenly struck Abby that she'd never felt so at ease with anyone before. By rights there should be something of a barrier between them, that unwritten, unspoken law of position in the town. Someone in Barney's position didn't socialise equally with the likes of Abby, pretty and pleasant as she may be. Of course there was friendly peer rapport, manners
and courtesies observed, but on a serious date, each class kept to their own.

Are we dating? Abby wondered. No, of course not. They were just two young people being friendly. Yet she knew that with anyone else with Barney's background she'd feel uncomfortable. With Barney she felt the deep pull of attraction coupled with a feeling of natural affinity which was hard to explain. She decided not to question it and instead relaxed in his company.

Barney felt the same. He found Abby unaffected, natural and easy to be with. He could tell she was not a girl to play games or be devious. Her freshness enchanted him and for the first time in an age he felt he was able to be himself. It was a heady feeling.

Both were in a buoyant mood as Abby waved him goodbye from the homestead garden gate and turned to chase after Kevin who had arrived home in time to give a loud wolf whistle as Barney drove off.

Abby's lunch with Barney and the lift home did not go unnoticed. Before the sun had set, almost the whole town knew about their meeting — thanks to party telephone lines and a few addicted gossip peddlers.

Shannon Pemberton heard it from a girlfriend
in town who couldn't wait to be first to tell her. Shannon dismissed it lightly. ‘You know Barney, he's always trying to help people . . .' But underneath she was furious and within a few days she found an excuse to ride over to the Holtens'.

Barney greeted her warmly and inspected her horse with a keen eye. ‘How are things going with your showjumper?' he asked cheerfully, bending down to run an expert hand over one of the horse's legs.

‘I was doing just fine till I heard you've been squiring your own little show pony around town.' Shannon said it lightly but the words were sharp. Barney stiffened and turned to face her. ‘What's going on, Barney?'

Barney looked utterly confused. Then suddenly he realised she was referring to Abby and his mouth and eyes hardened. ‘Listen to me, Shannon, what I do or do not do is my own business.'

‘Well it affects me too, Barney. I mean, what will people think? I don't like being treated this way. People think of us as a pair.'

‘Well I don't. Behaving like this is a pretty cheap shot, Shannon. You and I are friends but that's all. There is
no
commitment between us. I can see whom I want.'

‘Barney, you can't be serious!' Looking at his face she saw he was deadly serious. ‘It's all very
well to play around, but be discreet. I mean, if you're going to see someone seriously — other than me, then at least have the decency to make it someone from our circle — this is embarrassing for me. Everyone has always taken it for granted that you and I . . .'

‘Shannon, I will see whom I want. And you should do the same,' interjected Barney.

Shannon's temper snapped. ‘But she's a nobody! A paddy shearer's daughter! I thought you had more taste than that, Barney Holten.' She stormed off as Barney stemmed the retort that sprang to his lips. But as his anger cooled he did try to analyse his feelings for Abby. There was no doubting there was a strong attraction between them. He enjoyed her company, he delighted in the warmth and humour of her family, but there was no getting around the fact they came from opposite sides of the tracks. He knew his parents wouldn't approve, but then, in their eyes, there'd never be a girl good enough for the son of Amba. Best not to think beyond the present, and if that didn't include Shannon, it didn't bother him one bit.

Cheryl peeked around the surgery door. ‘Hi, Abby. You coming to practice this arvo?'

‘Yes. I brought Betsy. Dad said I could drive in two days a week.'

‘I'm really glad you decided to join our team. You can really whack that ball around. I reckon you're going to be a very useful winger.'

Abby grinned at her. ‘Just call me Speedy McBride.'

‘Yeah, you certainly are a speedy worker. I hear you've already snared Barney Holten for a date or two.'

Abby gasped. ‘What do you mean?'

‘It's all over town that you had lunch together and he drove you home for starters,' grinned Cheryl. ‘The rumours are flying thick and fast. I bet it's put Shannon's nose out of joint. Watch her, Abby, she's always had first claim on him.'

Abby flushed and turned away. ‘You can't beat a small town for gossip.'

Later, Abby drove home from hockey practice as the soft dusk turned the trees violet. She hated the idea of people in town gossiping about her, but she had lived in enough towns and outlying districts to know that small communities thrived on everyone else's business. However, it presented an extra dimension to her problem. Being practical, she knew she shouldn't see Barney again. Her head told her there was no future in it, that she was building Barney's neighbourly interest into more than it really was. But then she remembered the look in his eyes, the tenderness of his smile and
the warmth of his voice, and she tingled all over. She knew she couldn't help herself — she had to see him again.

Then, as if she had wished him there, when she drove up to the gates of Anglesea Barney was sitting on the fence, his horse tethered to the gatepost. He waved, jumped down and opened the gate for her. She stopped Betsy, her heart leaping at the sight of him, and got out as Barney closed the gate behind her.

‘Thanks, Barney. You're out for a late ride.'

‘Just heading back. I was hoping I'd catch you. I was wondering if your mum would like a fridge? Once I got into the shed for the typewriter I found an old Silent Knight kero fridge we had for the shearers for a time. It's old, a few nicks in it, but it runs well. What do you think?'

‘Why didn't you ask my mum?' She gave him a smile.

‘Because I'd rather talk to you.' He reached out and touched her hair.

‘I don't know if I should be talking to you,' she said quietly, suddenly serious.

‘Why?'

She took a deep breath. ‘I really like you. But I don't want you to think I'm just some simple girl you can . . .' Her bravado faltered and she stopped.

‘. . . fool around with?' he finished for her.

She nodded and he tipped a finger under her chin and tilted her face to look up at him. ‘Abby, I won't fool around. Or take advantage of you. You're different . . . special. It doesn't matter about anything else. So if we like each other, why don't we just enjoy being together?'

‘Because it's not that simple, Barney. If we were just fooling around it would be easier. But I like you . . . more than I should.' She glanced down, thinking that the word ‘like' inadequately expressed the tumbling, powerful feelings Barney aroused in her.

She took a breath and continued. ‘And let's be honest, I come from a different world to you. There's everything against us being more than casual friends — my family, my background, even my church.' She blushed. ‘I know there's nothing serious between us, but . . . I don't want to get hurt,' she finished in a whisper.

‘Oh Abby, I would never hurt you,' breathed Barney. He too was shaken by the surge of emotion he felt for this sweet and simple girl. He was starting to feel that they were in a small boat that had pushed off from shore without sail, engine or oars, and that they were drifting towards rapids. He was powerless to stop their inevitable flight forward; and in his heart, as he stared into her blue eyes, he was prepared to go wherever this
path took them. Suddenly he wanted to take Abby in his arms and kiss her wildly, but her reserve and hesitancy held him back.

‘And what about Shannon?' asked Abby.

‘She's a family friend. She's always been there and maybe before she went away we all did just sort of think one day . . . Well, it seemed what our families wanted; it made sense that we might end up together. It's sort of traditional, I suppose. But not now. Definitely not now,' said Barney vehemently. ‘We're different people.'

‘But won't people talk?' said Abby.

Barney sighed. ‘I wish people would mind their own business. Look, Abby, just let things be.'

Abby smiled. ‘What will be, will be, right?' She spoke lightly, not wanting to make an issue of things. Instinctively she knew that to put any pressure on him or to expect anything more from him was inviting trouble. But an inner voice whispered, ‘Tread softly, Abby, you're falling in love with this man and there can be no future for the likes of you and he.'

Barney gave her a grateful grin, feeling better for the openness of their discussion and surprised at its frankness. He was especially touched. ‘I suppose you always talk like this in your family, being so open and candid. I'm not used to it. But I'm glad we cleared the air.'

‘Come up to the house and talk to Mum about the fridge. She'd love it, I know. Stay for tea if you like.'