Ten
Lachlan had to hand it to his grandmother. She was one canny old biddy. He doubted she’d been plotting ways to get Rowena to come and stay at Blairgowrie during dinner, but she sure as hell had jumped on the opportunity pretty damn fast.
‘Thanks for humouring an old lady,’ he said as he walked beside Rowena, towards the dark shape of the bunkhouse about one hundred metres away.
Red was at his heels and torchlight guided the way over the leaf-strewn dirt track.
Insects and a distant occasional bleat were the only sounds keeping them company. ‘She’s incorrigible.’
She laughed and it rang clear as a bell in the crispness of the winter night. ‘She makes a convincing argument. Doesn’t make it easy to say no.’
It was Lachlan’s turn to laugh. ‘Yeah, she may be old but she be sneaky.’
More laughter puffed two streams of foggy breath into the air before they lapsed into silence again.
But Lachlan was conscious of everything about her.
The fancy but impractical-for-this-kind-of-terrain city girl boots, the faint rasp of her jeans as she walked, the swing of her arms, the way the slight breeze lifted her hair.
The sound of her breathing.
‘Has this always been your home?’
Lachlan shook his head. ‘I came to live here when I was ten after my parents were killed in a light plane crash.’
‘Oh god …’ She glanced at him abruptly. ‘That’s awful.’
Her scrutiny on his profile was intense, almost like a physical touch. No wonder Glenda’s death today had affected her—she was clearly an empath.
Lachlan shrugged. ‘It was a long time ago.’
It had hurt like the blazes, though, and there were few days that passed without him thinking about his mum and dad and that damn small plane they loved so much.
‘Where did you live before that?’
‘Cairns. My mum left here to be with my dad when she was twenty. He was an aerial surveyor in north Queensland. She met him there on holiday and they were married six months later. They eventually started their own business with their own plane not long after I was born. Mum used to love going up with Dad whenever she could.’
There was a beat or two of silence, as if she was deciding whether to ask any more or let it drop. Her empathy was still rippling off her in waves, but he could also sense her curiosity.
‘And you’ve been here since then?’
‘No.’ He shook his head. ‘I left when I was twenty for sixteen years.’
‘To see the world?’
Lachlan smiled. ‘Something like that.’
‘And did you?’
‘I guess. I became a cop.’
She stopped and gaped at him a little. ‘Really?’
He laughed as he kept walking and she caught up. ‘Yes, really. Police academy in Brisbane.’
‘You didn’t go to Sydney?’
Hell no. Sydney memories had been fresh and unpleasant for him. ‘I had a longing for my Queensland roots,’ he supplied.
‘And you stayed in Queensland?’
‘Yep. Ended up in accident investigation.’
Her raised eyebrow said it all. Yeah. He didn’t need a therapist to know why he’d taken that route.
‘But you left?’
‘Uh huh. I got pretty burnt out. And my marriage was on the rocks. It seemed like the right move.’
‘Was it?’
‘Occupationally? Yes. Matrimonially, not so much. Gabby was a city girl through and through, and living out here permanently is different to playing with cute baby lambs for a few days here and there.’
‘I bet.’
‘We lasted another six months before she ended it.’
‘That must have been hard.’
Lachlan shrugged. ‘It had been coming for a long time.’
‘Yeah. I know what that’s like.’
He realised she’d given him the perfect opening to ask about her marriages—hell, maybe she wanted him to. But they were at the bunkhouse now and her attention shifted.
‘Oh.’ She frowned at the corrugated-iron structure that looked just like a shed on stumps. ‘I thought it’d be bigger?’
‘We had an old shearers quarters back in the day. It’s about a kilometre that way, near the shearing shed.’ He pointed into the dark ahead of them. ‘But there’s not really huge teams of shearers that move around the country anymore. Most farms source locally and get a few mobile guys if needed.’
Lachlan walked up the three shallow steps that led to the side door and opened it, feeling for the light switch on the wall to the left. He gestured for her to enter ahead of him, following her into the relative warmth, silently thanking Reggie for insisting on insulation when it was being built.
‘Okay … wow.’ She wandered into the centre, which was occupied by a ping-pong table, and turned around a couple of times as Lachlan and Red watched. ‘I was not expecting this.’
It wasn’t big but the high walls and ceiling gave it a real sense of space and it was well cared for—neat, clean and tidy.
At the far end sat six single beds, all set apart to give each their own space.
They were made up, ready to go, each with one of Reggie’s colourful crocheted blankets on top, making them even more welcoming.
Off to one side of the ping-pong table sat three old but comfortable leather couches arranged in a u-shape around a coffee table and in front of a wood heater.
Next to the heater was a TV on a stand, with a DVD player and a host of movies stashed in the cupboard beneath. The old wardrobe beside the TV was chock full of board games.
‘What were you expecting?’
‘Nothing this … cosy? More rustic, I suppose.’ She glanced around her again. ‘This looks really … homey.’
Lachlan smiled. ‘Reggie will be pleased to hear that.’ His grandmother had been going for the home away from home feel. He supposed bunkhouse conjured up more basic conditions but they’d never called it anything else. Maybe it was time to change that? Maybe guest accommodation was more fitting.
‘There’s a shower and a loo through there,’ Lachlan continued as he pointed at the shut door on the wall opposite the lounge area. ‘And of course the kitchen is well equipped because Reggie would have it no other way.’
Rowena wandered to the galley kitchen, which had been made by Albert from spotted gum slabs felled not far from where they stood.
He’d lovingly sanded and polished the wooden benchtops until they shone glossy under the overhead lights.
He’d done the same with the dining table, which sat just off the kitchen.
Running her hands along the bench, she tapped the coffee percolator and murmured, ‘Nice.’ Opening a couple of cupboards, she gave them the once-over.
Producing a corkscrew from one of the utensil drawers, she brandished it with a smile. ‘Very well equipped.’
Lachlan grinned. ‘That’s not even the best bit. Wait till you see this.’
He strode to the double glass sliding doors that shared the same wall as the kitchen, Red sticking close to his heels. Yanking one open, he tipped his head to the outside.
‘Come on.’ He stepped onto the deck, flicking on the lights and standing near the door as Rowena followed him out.
‘Oh, wow,’ she murmured.
It was a wow. The deck ran the length of the quarters and extended out considerably. ‘Albert and I built it together.’ They’d done it when Gabby had first come to Blairgowrie, to give them a private place to hang out that would be the envy of even the most diehard city dweller.
High railings formed a border around three-quarters of the deck. They were more hitching posts than anything else and had been used as such on more than one occasion, but twining a bunch of fairy lights around the rough-hewn posts had loaned the sturdy construction a touch of whimsy.
Rowena wandered to the bowl of the firepit.
He’d made it from an old plough disc and half sunken it into the middle of the deck, making it the focal point.
Not that it had been used much, given shearing normally happened in the summer, but there’d been a few night-time yarns and tall tales told around it over the last few years.
The bowl was full of wood, ready to go, and he contemplated offering to light it so she could get the full effect, but she wasn’t done exploring. Turning away, her gaze fell on the other wow feature.
‘Oh, I like that.’
She moved towards the old claw-foot tub he’d found for sale through the local Facebook page. It had been plumbed into the bunkhouse water system, so there was no problem with filling it up other than the usual mindfulness regarding the ever-changing water situation.
Affixed diagonally across the right-hand corner of the deck, it was free of railings so as not to obstruct the one-hundredand-eighty-degree view over the bushy landscape. There was nothing like a tub for two at the end of a long dusty day on the farm, watching the sun set or the moon rise.
Unfortunately, an outdoor bath, a firepit and some fancy twinkles hadn’t been able to make up for a marriage pretty solidly on the rocks.
Tonight was the first time he’d turned the fairy lights on since Gabby left, but he still occasionally took a bath out here at the end of a long day, beer in hand, watching the sunset.
‘This is amazing.’ Rowena ran her hand along the bath’s rolled edge, before making a beeline for the nearby railing.
‘But wait,’ he said with a smile. ‘There’s more.’
Once she’d settled her elbows on the horizontal post, Lachlan ducked back to the door briefly and extinguished the inside and outside lights, plunging the deck into the still, inky black of an outback night.
Not for long, though.
Lachlan waited for his eyes to adjust before heading to where Rowena stood. ‘Look up,’ he said as he claimed the spot beside her.
Dutifully, she tipped her head back, her hair fanning out behind her. ‘Ohhh.’
For a moment Lachlan wasn’t sure if she’d said it or breathed it, but her face was alive with wonder as she took in the celestial display, breathtaking on this cloudless night.
‘It’s magnificent,’ she murmured.
‘Yeah,’ he agreed, waiting several beats before turning his face upwards. ‘It’s something else, huh?’