Читать книгу Australian Affairs: Wed: Second Chance with Her Soldier / The Firefighter to Heal Her Heart / Wedding at Sunday Creek - Barbara Hannay - Страница 11
ОглавлениеWHEN ELLIE’S PHONE rang early next morning, Jacko was refusing to eat his porridge and he was banging his spoon on his high chair’s tray, demanding. ‘Eggie,’ at the top of his voice.
For weeks now, Nina, the nanny, had supervised Jacko’s breakfast while Ellie was out at the crack of dawn, delivering supplements to the cattle and checking on the newborn calves and their mothers.
Now Nina was in Cairns with her family for Christmas and as the phone trilled, Ellie shot a despairing glance to the rooster-shaped kitchen wall clock. No one she knew would call at this early hour.
Jacko shrieked again for his boiled egg.
Ellie was already in a bad mood when she answered. ‘Hello? This is Karinya.’
‘Good morning.’ It was Joe, sounding gruff and businesslike. Very military.
‘Good morning, Joe.’ Behind Ellie, Jacko wailed, ‘Eggie,’ more loudly than ever.
‘Would Friday suit?’
She frowned. Did Joe have to be so clipped and cryptic? ‘To come here?’
‘Yes.’
Friday was only the day after tomorrow. It wasn’t much warning. Ellie’s heart began an unhelpful drumming, followed by a flash of heat, as if her body had a mind of its own, as if it was remembering, without her permission, the fireworks Joe used to rouse in her. His kisses, his touch, the sparks a single look from him could light.
In the early days of their marriage, they hadn’t been able to keep their hands off each other. Back in the heady days before everything went wrong, before their relationship exploded into a thousand painful pieces.
‘I could catch a flight that arrives in Townsville around eight a.m.,’ Joe said. ‘If I hire a car, I could probably get to Karinya around mid-afternoon.’
‘Eggie!’ Jacko bawled in a fully-fledged bellow.
‘Is that the kid crying?’
His name’s Jacko, Ellie wanted to remind Joe. Why did he have to call him ‘the kid’?
Holding the receiver to one ear, she filled a cup with juice and handed it to Jacko, hoping it would calm him. ‘He’s waiting for his breakfast.’
Jacko accepted the juice somewhat disconsolately, and at last the room was blessedly silent.
‘So how about Friday?’ Joe asked again.
At the thought of seeing him in less than forty-eight hours, Ellie took a deep, very necessary breath. ‘Friday will be fine.’
It would have to be fine. They had to do this. They had to get it over and behind them. Only then could they both finally move on.
* * *
Joe was an hour away from Karinya when he noticed the gathering clouds. The journey had taken him west from Townsville to Charters Towers and then north through Queensland’s more remote cattle country. It was an unhappily nostalgic drive, over familiar long, straight roads and sweeping open country, broken by occasional rocky ridges or the sandy dip of a dry creek bed.
The red earth and pale, drought-bleached grass were dotted with cattle and clumps of acacia and ironbark trees. It was a landscape Joe knew as well as his own reflection, but he’d rarely allowed himself to think about it since he’d left Queensland five and a half years ago.
Now, he worked hard to block out the memories of his life here with Ellie. And yet every signpost and landmark seemed to trigger an unstoppable flow.
He was reliving the day he and Ellie had first travelled up here, driving up from Ridgelands in his old battered ute. No one else in either of their families had ventured this far north, and the journey had felt like an adventure, as if they were pioneers pushing into new frontiers.
He remembered their first sight of Karinya—coming over a rise and seeing the simple iron-roofed homestead set in the middle of grassy plains. On the day they’d signed up for the long-term lease they’d been buzzing with excitement.
On the day their furniture arrived, Ellie had raced around like an enthusiastic kid. She’d wanted to help shift the furniture, but of course Joe wouldn’t let her. She was pregnant, after all. So she’d unpacked boxes and filled cupboards. She’d made up their bed and she’d scrubbed the bathroom and the kitchen, even though they’d been perfectly clean.
She’d baked a roast dinner, which was a bit burnt, but they’d laughed about it and picked off the black bits. And Ellie had been incredibly happy, as if their simple house in the middle of hundreds of empty acres represented a long and cherished dream that had finally come true.
When they made love on that first night it was as if being in their new bed, in their new home, had brought them a new level of connection and closeness they hadn’t dreamed was possible.
Afterwards they’d lain close and together they’d watched the stars outside through the as yet uncurtained bedroom window.
Joe had seen a shooting star. ‘Look!’ he’d said, sitting up quickly. ‘Did you see it?’
‘Yes!’ Ellie’s eyes were shining.
‘We should make a wish,’ he said and, almost without thinking, he wished that they could always be as happy as they were on this night.
Ellie, however, was frowning. ‘Have you made your wish?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ He smiled at her. ‘What about you?’
‘No, I haven’t. I...I don’t know if I want to.’ She sounded perplexingly frightened. ‘I...I don’t really like making wishes. It’s too much like tempting fate.’
Surprised, Joe laughed at her fears. He ran a gentle hand down her arm and lightly touched her stomach, where their tiny baby lay.
‘Do you think I should make a wish?’ Ellie’s expression was serious now.
‘Sure.’ Joe was on top of the world that night. ‘What harm can it do?’
She smiled and nestled into his embrace. ‘OK. I wish for a boy. A cute little version of you.’
Three weeks later, Ellie had a miscarriage.
Remembering, Joe let out an involuntary sigh. Enough.
Don’t go there.
He forced his attention back to the country stretching away to the horizon on either side of the road. Having grown up on a cattle property, he was able to assess the condition of the cattle he passed and the scant remaining fodder. There was no question that the country needed rain.
Everywhere, he saw signs of drought and stress. Although Ellie would have employed contract fencers and ringers for mustering, she must have worked like a demon to keep up with the demands of the prolonged drought.
He found himself questioning, as he had many times, why she’d been so stubbornly determined to stay out here. Alone.
He stopped for bad coffee and a greasy hamburger in a tiny isolated Outback servo, and it was only when he came outside again that he saw the dark clouds gathering on the northern horizon. Too often in December, clouds like these merely taunted graziers without bringing rain, but, as he drove on, drawing closer to Karinya, the clouds closed in.
Within thirty minutes the clouds covered the entire spread of the sky, hovering low to the earth like a cotton wool dressing pressed down over a wound.
As Joe turned off the main road and rattled over the cattle grid onto the track that led to the homestead, the first heavy drops began to fall, splattering the hire vehicle’s dusty windscreen. By the time he reached the house the rain was pelting down.
To his faint surprise, Ellie was on the front veranda, waiting for him. She was wearing an Akubra hat and a Drizabone coat over jeans but, despite the masculine gear, she looked as slim and girlish as ever.
She had another coat over her arm and she hurried down the front steps, holding it out to him. Peering through the heavy curtain of rain, Joe saw unmistakable worry in her dark brown eyes.
‘Here,’ she yelled, raising her voice above the thundering noise on the homestead’s iron roof, and as soon as he opened the driver’s door, she shoved the coat through the chink.
A moment later, he was out of the vehicle, with the coat over his head, and the two of them were dashing through the rain and up the steps.
‘This is incredible, isn’t it?’ Ellie gasped as they reached the veranda. ‘Such lousy timing.’ She turned to Joe. Beneath the dripping brim of her hat, her dark eyes were wide with concern.
He wondered if he was the cause.
‘Have you heard the weather report?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘Not a word. I haven’t had the radio on. Why? What’s happening?’
‘A cyclone. Cyclone Peta. It started up in the Gulf yesterday afternoon, and crossed the coast mid-morning. It’s dumping masses of rain further north.’
‘I guess that’s good news.’
‘Well, yes, it is. We certainly need the rain.’ She frowned. ‘But I have a paddock full of cattle down by the river.’
‘The Hopkins paddock,’ Joe said, remembering the section of their land that had flooded nearly every wet season.
Ellie nodded.
‘We need to get them out of there,’ he said.
‘I know.’ Her soft pink mouth twisted into an apologetic wincing smile. ‘Joe, I hate to do this to you when you’ve just arrived, but you know how quickly these rivers can rise. I’d like to shift the cattle this afternoon. Now, actually.’
‘OK. Let’s get going, then.’
‘You don’t mind?’
‘’Course I don’t.’ In truth, he was relieved to have something practical to do. A mission to rescue cattle was a darn sight more appealing than sitting around drinking tea and trying to make polite conversation with his beautiful soon-to-be ex.
‘It’s flat country, so we won’t need horses. I’ll have to take Jacko, though, so I thought I’d take the ute with the trail bike in the back.’
Joe nodded.
‘One problem. I’d probably have to stay in the ute with Jacko.’ Ellie swallowed, as if she was nervous. ‘Would you mind...um...looking after the round-up?’
‘Sure. Sounds like a plan.’ He chanced a quick smile. ‘As long as I haven’t lost my touch.’
As he said this, Ellie stared at him for longer than necessary, her expression slightly puzzled and questioning. She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something in response, but then she shook her head as if she’d changed her mind.
‘I’ll get Jacko. He’s having an afternoon nap.’ She shrugged out of her coat and beneath it she was wearing a neat blue and white striped shirt tucked into jeans. Her waistline was still as trim as a schoolgirl’s.
When she took off her hat, Joe’s gaze fixed on her thick dark hair, pulled back into a glossy braid. Her hair had always been soft to touch despite its thickness.
‘Come on in,’ she said awkwardly over her shoulder. ‘You don’t mind if we leave your gear in your car until later?’
He shrugged. ‘It’s only Christmas presents.’
‘Would you...ah...like a cup of tea or anything?’
‘No, I’m fine.’ The muddy coffee he’d had on the road would take a while to digest. ‘Let’s collect the kid and get this job done.’
They took off their boots and hung their wet coats on the row of pegs that Joe had mounted beside the front door when they’d first moved in here. To his surprise, his own battered elderly Akubra still hung on the end peg.
Of course, he’d known it would feel strange to follow Ellie into the house as her guest rather than her partner, but the knife thrust in his gut was an unpleasant addition.
The house was full of the furniture they’d chosen together in Townsville—the tan leather sofa and the oval dining table, the rocking chair Ellie had insisted on buying when she was first pregnant.
Joe wouldn’t take a stick of this furniture when they divorced. He was striking new trails.
‘I’ll fetch Jacko,’ Ellie said nervously. ‘I reckon he’ll be awake by now.’
Unsure if he was expected to follow her, Joe remained standing, almost to attention, in the centre of the lounge room. He heard the creak of a floorboard down the hall and the soft warmth in Ellie’s voice as she greeted their son. Then he heard the boy’s happy crow of delight.
‘Mummy, Mummy!’
Joe felt his heart twist.
Moments later, Ellie appeared in the doorway with Jacko in her arms. The boy was a sturdy little fellow, with glowing blue eyes and cheeks still pink and flushed with sleep. He was cuteness personified. Very blond—Joe had been blond until he was six and then his hair had turned dark.
The last time Joe had seen his son, he’d been a sleepy baby, barely able to hold his head up. Now he was a little man.
And he and Ellie were a winsome pair. Joe couldn’t help noticing how happy Ellie looked now, with an extra aura of softness and womanly warmth about her that made her lovelier than ever.
She was complete now, he decided. She had what she’d so badly wanted, and he was truly happy for her. Perhaps it was fitting that this miracle had only occurred after Joe had stepped out of the picture.
Jacko was grinning at him. ‘Man!’ he announced in noisy delight.
‘This is Joe,’ Ellie told him, her voice a tad shaky. ‘You can say Joe, can’t you, big boy?’
‘Joe!’ the boy echoed with a triumphant grin.
‘So he’s going to call me Joe? Not Dad?’
Ellie frowned as if he’d let fly with a swear word.
‘You’ve been away,’ she said tightly. ‘And you’re going away again. Jacko’s only two, and if you’re not going to be around us he can’t be expected to understand the concept of a father. Calling you Daddy would only confuse him.’
Joe’s teeth clenched. He almost demanded to know if she had another guy already waiting in the wings. A stepfather?
‘Jacko’s bound to understand about fathers eventually,’ he said tersely.
‘And we’ll face that explanation when the time is right.’ A battle light glowed in Ellie’s dark eyes.
Damn it, they were at it already. Joe gave a carefully exaggerated shrug. Whatever. He’d had enough of war at home and abroad. On this visit he was determined to remain peaceful.
He turned his attention to his son. ‘So how are you, Jacko?’
The boy squirmed and held out his arms. ‘Down,’ he demanded. ‘I want Man.’
With an anxious smile, Ellie released him.
The little boy rushed at Joe’s legs and looked up at him with big blue eyes and a grin of triumph.
What now? Joe thought awkwardly. He reached down and took his son’s tiny plump hand and gave it a shake. ‘Pleased to meet you, Jacko.’
He deliberately avoided noting Ellie’s reaction.
* * *
They drove down to the river flats with their son strapped into the toddler seat between them, and Ellie tried not to mind that Jacko seemed to be obsessed with Joe.
The whole way, the little boy kept giggling and making eyes at the tall dark figure beside him, and he squealed with delight when Joe pulled faces.
A man’s presence at Karinya was a novelty, of course, and Ellie knew that Jacko had been starved of masculine company. He was always intrigued by any male visitor.
Problem was that today Ellie was almost as intrigued as her son, especially when she watched Joe take off on the trail bike through the rain and the mud. He looked so spectacularly athletic and fit and so totally at home on the back of a motorbike, rounding up the herd, ducking and weaving through patches of scrub.
He certainly hadn’t lost his touch.
‘Show-off,’ she muttered with a reluctant grim smile as he jumped the bike over a pile of fallen timber and then skilfully edged the stragglers forward into the mob, heading them up the slope towards the open gate where she was parked.
‘Joe!’ Jacko cried, bouncing in his car seat and pointing through the windscreen. He clapped his hands. ‘Look, Mummy! Joe!’
‘Yeah, he looks good, all right,’ Ellie had to admit. In terms of skill and getting the job done quickly, Joe might never have been away.
And that felt dangerous.
Out of the blue, she found herself remembering their wedding day and the short ceremony in the register office in Townsville. She and Joe had decided they didn’t want to go through awkward explanations about her pregnancy to their families, and neither of them had wanted the fuss of a big family wedding.
They’d both agreed they could deal with their families later. On that day, all they’d wanted was to commit to each other. Their elopement had seemed soooo romantic.
But it had also been reckless, Ellie thought now as she saw how brightly her son’s eyes shone as he watched Joe.
‘Don’t be too impressed, sweetheart. Take Mummy’s word; it’s simply not worth it. That man will only break your heart.’
Jacko merely chortled.
* * *
It was dark by the time Joe came into the kitchen, having showered and changed into dry clothes. Outside, the rain still pelted down, drumming on the roof and streaming over the edge of the guttering, but Ellie had closed the French windows leading onto the veranda and the kitchen was bright and cosy.
She tried not to notice how red-hot attractive Joe looked in a simple white T-shirt and blue jeans, with his dark hair damp from the shower, his bright eyes an unforgettable piercing blue. The man was still unlawfully sexy.
But Joe seemed to have acquired a lone wolf aura now. In addition to his imperfect nose that had been broken in a punch-up when he was seventeen, there was a hard don’t-mess-with-me look in his eyes that made her wonder what he’d been through over the past four years.
Almost certainly, he’d been required to kill people, and she couldn’t quite get her head around that. How had that changed him?
The Army had kept the Commandos’ deployments short and frequent in a bid to minimise post-traumatic stress, but no soldier returned from war unscarred. These days, everyone knew that. For Ellie, there was the extra, heavily weighing knowledge that their unhappy marriage had pushed Joe in the Army’s direction.
And now, here they were, standing in the same room, but she was painfully aware of the wide, unbridgeable chasm that gaped open between them.
She turned and lifted the lid on the slow cooker, giving its contents a stir, wishing she was more on top of this situation.
‘That smells amazing,’ said Joe.
She felt a small flush of satisfaction. She’d actually set their dinner simmering earlier in the day, hoping it would fill the kitchen with enticing aromas, but she responded to Joe’s compliment with a casual shrug and tried not to look too pleased. ‘It’s just a Spanish chicken dish.’
‘Spanish?’ Joe raised a quizzical eyebrow.
No doubt he was remembering her previously limited range of menus. ‘I’ve broadened my recipe repertoire.’
Joe almost smiled, but then he seemed to change his mind. Sinking his hands into his jeans pockets, he looked around the kitchen, taking in the table set with red and white gingham mats and the sparkling white cupboards and timber bench tops. ‘You’ve also been decorating.’
Ellie nodded. ‘Before I became pregnant with Jacko I painted just about every wall and cupboard in the house.’
‘The nesting instinct?’
‘Something like that.’
Joe frowned at this, his eyes taking on an ambiguous gleam as he stared hard at the cupboards. His Adam’s apple jerked in his throat. ‘It looks great,’ he said gruffly.
But Ellie felt suddenly upset. It felt wrong to be showing off her homemaker skills when she had absolutely no plans to share this home with him.
‘Where’s Jacko?’ he asked, abruptly changing the subject
‘Watching TV. Nina’s recorded his favourite programmes, and he’s happy to watch them over and over. It helps him to wind down at the end of the day.’
This was met by a slow nod but, instead of wandering off to check out his son, Joe continued to stand in the middle of the kitchen with his hands in his pockets, his gaze thoughtful.
‘He doesn’t watch a lot of TV,’ Ellie felt compelled to explain. ‘I...I usually read him story books as well.’
‘I’m sure he loves that.’ Joe’s blue eyes blazed. ‘Chill, Ellie. I’m not here to judge you. I’m sure you’re a great mum. Fantastic.’
Her smile wobbled uncertainly. Why would this compliment make her want to cry?
They should try to relax. She should offer Joe a pre-dinner beer or a glass of wine.
But, before she could suggest this, he said, ‘So, I guess this is as good a time as any for me to sign those divorce papers?’
Ellie’s stomach dropped as if she’d fallen from the top of a mountain. ‘Well...um...yes,’ she said, but she had to grip the bench behind her before her knees gave way. ‘You could sign now...or after dinner.’
‘It’s probably best to get it over with and out of the way.’
‘I guess.’ Her reply was barely a whisper. It was ridiculous. She’d been waiting for this moment for so long. They’d arranged an out of court settlement and their future plans were clear—she would keep on with the lease at Karinya, and Joe had full access to Jacko, although she wasn’t sure how often he planned to see his son.
This settlement was what she wanted, of course, and yet she felt suddenly bereft, as if a great hole had opened up in her life, almost as if someone had died.
What on earth was the matter with her? Joe’s signature would provide her with her ticket of leave.
Freedom beckoned.
The feeling of loss was nothing more than a temporary lapse, an aberration brought on by the unscheduled spot of cattle work that she and Joe had shared this afternoon. Rounding up the herd by the river had felt too dangerously like the good old days when they’d still been in love.
‘Ellie?’ Joe was standing stiffly to attention now, his eyes alert but cool, watching her intently. ‘You’re OK about this, aren’t you?’
‘Yes, of course. I’m totally fine.’ She spoke quickly, not quite meeting his gaze, and then she drew a deep, fortifying breath, hoping it would stop the trembling in her knees. ‘The papers are in the study.’
‘Ellie.’
The unexpected gentleness in his voice brought her spinning around. ‘Yes?’
‘I wish...’
‘What?’ She almost snapped this question.
What do you wish? Tell me quickly, Joe.
Did he wish they didn’t have to do this? Was he asking for another chance to save their marriage?
‘I wish you didn’t look so pale and upset.’
Her attempt to laugh came out as a hiccup. Horrified, she seized on the handiest weapon—anger. It was the weapon she’d used so often with this man, firing holes into the bedrock of their marriage. ‘If I’m upset, Joe, it’s because this is a weird situation.’
‘But we agreed.’ He seemed angry, too, but his anger was annoyingly cold and controlled. ‘It’s what you want, isn’t it?’
‘Sure, we agreed, and yes, it’s what I want. But it’s still weird. How many people agree to a divorce and then put it on hold for four years?’
‘You know why we did that—so you’d be looked after financially if I was killed.’
‘Yes, I know, and that was generous of you. Just the same, it hasn’t been a picnic here.’ Suddenly, Ellie could feel the long months of tension giving way inside her, rushing to the surface, hot and explosive. ‘While you were away being the hero in Afghanistan, you were distracted by everything over there. But I was here, supposed to be divorced, but surrounded by all of this.’
Flinging her arm dramatically, she gestured to the homestead and the paddocks beyond. ‘Every day, I was left with the remnants of our lives together. A constant reminder of everything that went wrong.’
‘So why did you stay?’ Joe asked coolly.
Ellie gasped, momentarily caught out. ‘I’m surprised you have to ask,’ she said quickly to cover her confusion.
He shrugged a cool, questioning eyebrow.
And Ellie looked away. She’d asked herself the same question often enough. She knew exactly why she’d stayed. Even now, she could hear her dad’s voice from all those years ago. If you start something, Ellie, you’ve got to see it through.
Her dad had told her this just before her thirteenth birthday. She’d been promised a horse for her birthday and he’d been building proper stables instead of the old two-sided tin shelter they’d had until then.
Ellie had helped him by holding hammers or the long pieces of timber and she’d handed up nails and screws. While they worked her dad had reminded her that owning a horse was a long-term project.
‘You can’t take up a responsibility like a horse and then lose interest,’ he’d said. ‘I’ve known people like that. They never stick at anything, always have to be trying something different, and they end up unhappy and wondering what went wrong.’
Tragically, her father had never finished those stables. He’d also he’d been mending a windmill and he’d fallen and died three days before Ellie’s birthday. In the bleak months that followed, Ellie’s mum had sold their farm and moved into town, and the horse that should have been Ellie’s had gone to another girl in her class at school.
In a matter of months, Ellie lost everything—her darling father, her beloved farm, her dreams of owning a horse. And the bittersweet irony of her father’s words had been seared into her brain.
If you start something, you’ve got to see it through.
Years later, with a failed marriage and failed attempts at parenthood weighing her down, she’d been determined that she wouldn’t let go of Karinya as well.
‘So why did you stay here?’ Joe repeated.
With her arms folded protectively over her chest, Ellie told him. ‘I love this place, Joe. I’m proud of it, and I’ve worked hard to improve it. It was hard enough giving up half a dream without giving up Karinya as well.’
Joe’s only reaction was to stand very still, watching her with a stern, unreadable gaze. If Ellie hadn’t been studying him with equal care, she might have missed the fleeting shadow that dimmed his bright blue eyes, or the telltale muscle twitching in his jaw.
But she did see these signs, and they made something unravel inside her.
Damn you, Joe. Tell me what you’re thinking.
Painful seconds ticked by, but neither of them moved nor spoke. Ellie almost reached out and said, Do we need to talk about this?
But it wasn’t an easy question to ask when it was Joe who’d originally suggested their divorce. He’d never shown any sign of backing down, so now her stubborn pride kept her silent.
Eventually, he said quietly, ‘So, about this signing?’
Depressed but resolute, Ellie pointed to the doorway to the study. ‘The papers are in here.’
As she reached the study, she didn’t look back to check that Joe was following her. Skirting the big old silky oak desk that they’d bought at an antique shop in Charters Towers, she marched straight to the shelves Joe had erected all those years ago and she lifted down a well-thumbed Manila folder.
She sensed Joe behind her but she didn’t look at him as she turned and placed the folder on the desk. In silence she opened it to reveal the sheaf of papers that she’d lodged with the courts.
‘I guess you’ll want to read these through,’ she said, eyes downcast.
‘There’s no need. Geoffrey Bligh has sent me a copy. I know what it says.’
‘Oh? All right.’ Ellie opened a drawer and selected a black pen. ‘So, I’ve served you with the papers, and all you need to do now is sign to acknowledge that you accept them.’ She still couldn’t look him in the eye.
She was trembling inside and she took a deep breath.
‘There,’ she said dully, setting the appropriate sheet of paper on the desk and then stepping away to make room for Joe.
His face was stonily grim as he approached the desk, but he showed no sign of hesitation as he picked up the pen.
As he leaned over the desk, Ellie watched the neat dark line of his hair across the back of his neck and she saw a vein pulsing just below his ear. She noticed how strong his hand looked as he gripped the pen.
Unhelpfully, she remembered his hand, those fingers touching her when they made love. It seemed so long ago and yet it was so unforgettable.
There’d been a time in their marriage when they’d been so good at sex.
Joe scrawled his spiky signature, then set the pen down and stood staring fiercely at the page now decorated with his handwriting.
It was over.
In the morning he would take this final piece of paper with him to their solicitor but, to all intents and purposes, they were officially and irrevocably divorced.
And now they had to eat dinner together. Ellie feared the Spanish chicken would taste like dust in her mouth.
