The Cattleman's Daughter Page 15

  Luke’s final splurge was buying two of the best-bred Australian stockhorses he could find in Horse Deals. He’d trialled them both on his way to Dargo, after packing up and leaving Melbourne. Like the house, Luke had bought the horses on the spot. He thought he’d ride one and breed from the other, depending on which one he bonded with best.

  The owner had trucked them up the very next day, throwing in a third horse for only a couple of hundred dollars extra, because he could no longer afford to keep them.

  The bonus gelding had fantastic stockhorse breeding but was a green-broke baby with no experience. Luke didn’t need three horses, and certainly not a youngster. But there was something in the eyes of that young chestnut that attracted him. He could always sell it on. So now he had two chestnut mares with pretty white markings on their legs and faces and the matching three-year-old in his yards.

  Today he’d have to fix some of the fences and get the waterlines sorted before he could let the horses out into the paddock, but he was looking forward to watching them discover their new home.

  The first night in the cottage he’d barely slept at all as he lay on his back in his swag taking in the sag of the ceiling and the lean of the doorframe. All things he could fix eventually, or paint over, or tear out. It would take many hours of work, but for the first time in years Luke felt excited, like his life had some momentum and purpose.

  In the past few days he’d spent some time with the outgoing ranger, Darcy. Luke came to see the rotund man with few words as a knowledgeable bushman but one who had become jaded with the hierarchy over the years and was now on the lazy side, comfortable in a government job. He’d shown Luke all over the mountainside, going over the day-to-day tasks like which rubbish bins to empty in the parks, where the huts were, which boomgates needed shutting when snow fell.

  Luke sighed. He started work officially next week but he didn’t want to think of that now. He had two beautiful new horses to get to know and his very own horse arena, set up by the previous owner. With a spring in his step, he set off to the stables to get his new saddle, reminding himself of his vow not to think of the one thing weighing down his mind. Emily. He wasn’t going to walk into a complicated situation like that – a mother of two little kids with a psycho ex-husband. Him a ranger in a tiny town and she a soon-to-be evicted cattleman, if the Bill went through. But, no matter how hard he tried, Luke’s thoughts returned again and again to Emily.

  That same Saturday morning, Emily was standing at the bar of the Dargo Hotel while Donna waited, not so patiently, for her to make up her mind.

  ‘Bottle of Bundy? No! Carton of beer? No! Bottle of vodka? No! Oh, hell, I don’t know what he likes,’ said Emily.

  Emily had been back from the protest ride in Melbourne for a week now, but the guilt she felt about Luke getting clobbered by Clancy had trailed her all the way from Dargo to Melbourne and back up to the high plains.

  When she heard Luke had bought a house and some land, she was utterly surprised. No other young ranger who’d been stationed with Darcy had ever shown any interest in staying on. They were only doing time to earn points so they could get a job closer to Melbourne. Dargo was a place to bolt from when the weekend rolled round.

  So Luke’s purchase was the talk of the town. Still, Emily thought, it gave her a good excuse to visit him so she could give him a housewarming present and an apology.

  Earlier that morning, on her way down from the plains, she had dropped the girls into Evie’s with the float in tow to deliver for Flo’s weekend campdraft.

  Emily was looking forward to a day just to herself. As much as she adored her girls, it was also a treat to have some time out. She had set out down the mountain in a buoyant mood, but at the thought of coming face to face with Luke again, her palms grew sweaty and her heart beat faster. Was she nervous because she thought he didn’t like her anymore – or scared because she thought he did like her? As she stood at the bar, Emily realised she knew nothing about him. What did he like to drink? She did know he drank beer.

  ‘Make it a carton.’

  ‘Stubbies or cans?’ asked Donna.

  ‘Er? Um?’ Donna rolled her eyes. ‘Cans? No! Stubbies? No! Oh! Stubbies.’

  ‘Stubbies,’ said Donna. ‘Light or full strength? Draught or Bitter? VB or Cascade? Crown or Blonde?’

  Emily squirmed with uncertainty until she saw the teasing look on Donna’s face.

  ‘Beer, Donna. Just bloody beer!’

  Donna heaved a carton up onto the bar. Emily frowned. It wasn’t the most glamorous apology gift.

  ‘Nah. Sorry, Donna. Not a carton. Make it a bottle of Bundy.’

  Donna gave a loud sigh and narrowed her eyes. ‘He must be some fella.’

  Emily sat the Bundy bottle on the passenger seat of the farm ute and drove towards the old river road. It’d been years since she’d been out past the big bend and she barely remembered the little house tucked away in the bush. When she saw the For Sale sign with the sold sticker on it, she realised the drive got very steep. She should’ve thought earlier to ditch the float. Not knowing if there was any place to turn around, she pulled over onto a flat patch of paddock inside the gate and set out to walk the last little way, glad she’d chosen Bundy and not a heavy carton. She called Rousie to her heels and strode up the steep hill, her body protesting at the sudden burst of exercise after her long recuperation.

  At the top of the rise she saw, nestled in a pretty spot, the rust-blotched tin roof of the house with smoke drifting lazily from the chimney. Dargo was full of these discoveries. Each river bend or hill revealed another patch where some old-timer had died along with their small farming dreams, leaving a meagre mark in the form of a cottage, a shed or two and some yards. These dilapidated dwellings were gradually getting bought up by city folk for their bush hideaways. It had begun to give Dargo a transient, seasonal feel, but the tourists also brought jobs, drinkers, spenders and a bit of interest to the town.

  The future for Dargo now lay not in cattle or timber or gold but in tourism. But judging from the weeds, absentee city owners spelled trouble for the land in some cases. The place was a fire hazard. Emily hoped Luke would get the place straight before the next summer fire season.

  There was a patch of yellowbox on a levelled knoll just above the house and Emily caught a glimmer of movement there. As she neared she could see it was a rider on a horse in an arena.

  A young chestnut gelding with a wide blaze and white stockings was drifting around the sandy spot on the knoll in a collected canter. Emily quietly moved closer, and leaned back on a tree to watch.

  What she saw took her breath away. The rider, Luke, sat deep in the saddle, moving as one with the horse. The gelding’s effortless movement told Emily Luke had gentle and skilful hands. He wore a wide-brimmed hat pulled down low and a blue singlet that showed off his muscular arms. His broad shoulders looked as if they would swing an axe well, Emily thought, and his denim jeans, Wranglers, accentuated his long, strong legs. His boots, held heel down in perfect cowboy rider position, were scuffed and old.

  Luke turned the gelding in a dreamy figure-of-eight then dropped his weight back in the saddle so the young horse stopped in an almost flawless halt. Then Luke stroked the horse. The way he smoothed his palm over the gelding’s glossy neck made Emily melt. She tried to keep her eyes on the horse, taking in its conformation and style, but she couldn’t stop staring at Luke. He was pure magic on a horse. She felt like a perve, watching him from the trees, and wondered whether she should walk back now and get the float. But what if he saw her leaving? She decided she would call out to him, so as not to startle his young mount.

  ‘Hello!’ She began to walk over to him, Rousie close at her heels.

  Luke was shocked to see Emily there. It was like he’d conjured her up with his thoughts. He rode towards her, his face in shadow under his hat, the gelding’s ears pricked and eyes bright at the approach of the stranger.

  Emily glanced down at the ground over which sh
e walked, so that when she looked up again, Luke was right beside her.

  ‘A vision splendid,’ she said, looking at the glossy chestnut horse, but thinking of Luke.

  ‘He’s for sale.’

  ‘He is? But I didn’t know you …’ Emily’s voice trailed away.

  ‘You didn’t know what?’

  ‘I didn’t know you could ride. City boys don’t ride like that.’

  ‘That’s a bit discriminatory.’

  Emily gently stroked the gelding’s neck, thinking of Evie and her advice on not judging others.

  ‘Yeah, it is a bit. I’m sorry. I’ve been really condescending, haven’t I? It shouldn’t matter that you come from the city.’

  ‘Not anymore. Besides, I was only ever a city boy temporarily. I was a Wimmera wheatbelt boy before that.’

  ‘Wimmera!’ Emily thought of the wide expanse of flat farming country, so different to her own farmland. She could picture his dark good looks and lean body in that dry, sun-drenched landscape. So he was a country boy! Something inside Emily lit up. It was like finding out he wasn’t gay. Suddenly Luke was so much more appealing to her, a real possibility. She shook her head and cringed.

  ‘That’s two apologies I owe you. One for taking you for a city boy and being rude about it, and the other for Clancy’s behaviour. Are you okay?’

  Luke raised his hand to his face, touching a small scar on his nose.

  ‘Fine now.’

  Emily held up the Bundy.

  ‘A housewarming gift and a bottle of sorries. And I brought you a copy of that Tassie legislation I was telling you about and another on an enquiry into the ’03 fires.’

  Luke smiled. ‘Cheers! I love my Bundy. And thanks for the info. I’ll be sure to read it.’

  Emily turned her attention back to the young horse. ‘You’ve obviously ridden a bit?’

  ‘I used to get about on horses round the sheep, preferred it to bikes. The farm’s all trees now, though, worse luck. Dad sold it.’

  Emily felt the stab of regret. When a country boy said those three words, ‘Dad sold it,’ he would be dying inside.

  No wonder Luke had seemed so lost in the city with his Ratgirl girlfriend.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ she said.

  Luke shrugged. ‘My brother wanted the money, and Dad wanted out.’

  Emily looked up to him sitting astride the beautiful horse. She felt breathless and restless and suddenly very shy.

  She’d come straight from the high plains, rough and ready in her old jeans and a long sleeved T-shirt. She ran her fingers through her hair, wishing she’d thought to call into Bridie’s first. Then a vision of Clancy flashed in her mind. She was a separated single mother of two. What gorgeous guy would want a girl with that kind of baggage? Emily’s thoughts ran on out of control as she realised she was developing one major crush on the new park ranger.

  ‘Feel like a ride?’ Luke asked, smiling at her.

  ‘What?’ she said, suddenly shaken out of her tailspin. ‘You? I mean, me?’

  ‘The horse, I mean.’

  Emily loved the graceful way Luke slid from the horse and landed close beside her. He was much taller than her, his shoulders so broad and inviting she wanted to reach out and touch him. She bit her lip and handed him the bottle of Bundy and documents, thinking of the gesture as another seed sown. Then she took the reins from him and swung up into the saddle.

  ‘So he’s for sale, you say? What’s his background? How much do you want for him?’

  Luke tipped his head back and laughed at Emily’s rapid-fire questions. Emily took in his melting smile and his mocha-coloured skin and unshaven jawline. She wanted to lean over and kiss him there and then. Instead she squeezed the horse into a walk, circling Luke as he explained how the gelding had been thrown in with the other two mares. Emily could feel the gelding was well educated and nice and forward but needed many more hours to get him beyond the green stage. She urged him on to a trot.

  ‘He had a bit of buck this morning, so watch him,’ Luke said. ‘Nothing mean. Just trying to take the pressure off himself.’

  ‘If I do buy him, droving will do him good,’ she called to Luke. ‘It’s the best way to educate young horses.’ Then she stopped, realising that if the Bill went through there would be no more droving next year. She decided to steer the conversation away from droving. ‘What’s his name?’

  ‘I’ve been calling him Bonus because he was a bonus but it’s for you to choose.’

  ‘He sure is a looker. But a new boy in my life is the last thing I need right now,’ Emily said, then blushed, realising how her words must have sounded. Luke just smiled.

  ‘You can take him on trial, if you like,’ he said.

  Emily’s eyes widened. ‘I can?’

  ‘Sure. Take him for, say, three weeks, then let me know.’

  Emily thought for a while, her fingers twirling the gelding’s long chestnut mane.

  ‘I don’t really need a new horse and I don’t know if I can afford one either. If the grazing bans go through, we’ll be selling all but a few of ours.’

  She saw the muscle in Luke’s jaw clench. He didn’t say anything, just nodded. She wondered if he’d taken her comment as a dig. She squeezed the gelding into a canter, pleased with the way he collected himself up.

  Luke watched Emily’s strong tanned hands on the reins and the way she sat as if glued in the saddle, at one with the horse. He could see the muscles move in her legs beneath her tight jeans and he enjoyed the way she talked softly to the horse. But something about Emily made him prickle. He wondered what her crazy ex-husband might say about the horse? Would he cop another on the nose because of it? Trouble, Luke thought. He’d better keep his distance. But still his heart skipped as Emily pulled the horse up just short of him and beamed at him.

  ‘Oh, hang it,’ she said. ‘You only live once. I’ve got the float with me. Can I take him now? Just on trial. We’ve got mustering and droving coming up. At least I can get him started.’

  ‘Yeah, sure. Take him now,’ said Luke. ‘Great.’ But the open friendly tone had gone from his voice.

  Emily dismounted, wondering if it was the second mention of droving that had done it, or if Luke was keeping his distance because of his job. She knew he’d have been instructed by his bosses to give the cattlemen a wide berth. She held the gelding while Luke unsaddled him.

  ‘Come inside for a drink if you like, and I’ll grab your number. You’ll have to excuse the mess.’

  Just as they were about to yard the gelding they heard a car approaching. They turned to see a shiny new green bubble car hurtling over the rise. It skidded to a halt outside the house in a cloud of dust, the driver clearly not used to gravel. Cassandra got out, casting Emily stinging looks. Emily’s heart sank like a stone in a river.

  ‘Well, hello, Luke,’ Cassy said coldly.

  ‘Hi,’ Luke said. There was an awkward silence.

  ‘If you don’t mind,’ Emily said, too loudly, ‘I’d better get on and leave you two to it. I’ll just lead him down to the float. Thanks. I’ll be in touch.’

  She shot a glance at Ratgirl, taking in her strange clothes, and said a quick goodbye to them both. Then she walked away, leading the gelding as fast as she could.

  All the way back to the float, Emily swore to herself over and over. How stupid was she? As if Luke would have the hots for her. Her husband had punched him, she was a cattleman’s daughter and he was a ranger. And, she said to herself, even worse, he still has a bloody girlfriend!

  ‘What are you doing here?’ Luke said the moment Emily was out of earshot.

  Cassy delivered her most sultry look. ‘I miss you. Plus you’d forgotten some stuff and I thought I’d run it out to you. But obviously you’re not missing me. You’re clearly not lonely at all out here.’

  Luke shook his head. ‘You shouldn’t have come, Cass.’

  ‘I can see that!’

  ‘It’s not what you think. She’s interested in the horse.’ />
  Cassy huffed. ‘Right … At least show me where you’re living.’

  ‘Ta-daaa!’ Luke sang, sweeping an arm in the direction of the cottage. ‘There, you’ve seen it. Happy?’

  Cassy looked mournfully at him.

  ‘Luke, don’t act like that.’

  ‘Like what?’

  ‘Like you hate me.’

  ‘I don’t hate you, Cassy, I just don’t know what you’re doing here. It’s over.’

  Tears welled in Cassy’s eyes. ‘But we had a life together.’

  ‘Had is right,’ Luke said. ‘Past tense, Cassy. We went through all this before I left.’

  ‘I know,’ she said, head hanging. ‘At least show me inside. I’m busting for the loo.’

  ‘Loo’s not inside. It’s round the back. A long drop.’

  ‘Serious?’

  ‘A room with a view. Just watch out for the wombat hole.’

  ‘Yikes! How can you live like that?’

  ‘C’mon, Cassy, you’re the one who was always talking about composting toilets and sustainable waste systems and getting back to nature.’

  Cassy cast him a sullen look and stomped off around the side of the house in her Doc Martens. She looked so out of place here, Luke thought. Sure, they’d been bushwalking together a few times, but it was always with a bunch of her enviro-mad friends. They were people who celebrated the environment, spoke frequently of protecting it, but only ventured into the bush periodically to ‘commune’ with nature as if a dose of camping would make them somehow more pure or whole again for the next round of city living.

  In the house he briskly showed her the rooms.

  ‘Bedroom, kitchen, lounge, porch. There. Tour all finished.’

  ‘Luke. Please. I’ve come all this way.’ She stepped towards him as they stood in the bedroom doorway, the bed unmade before them. She reached out, ran her hand along his stomach and hooked a finger into the top of his belt. ‘Just one for the road, before I go?’