CHAPTER TWO
When things start to get complicated.
I slept so well. Despite the late hour, we actually fell asleep; with him beside me in our bed, I slept like a baby. I was up before the sun, just like always, and after the dogs were fed, I came back inside to find Travis throwing his duffel bag on the bed.
“What are you doing?”
He was a little startled. “Oh.” He looked to the bag, then back to me. “Well, I thought because everyone was heading into the Alice, I was hoping… maybe we could go too.”
“Oh.”
“I just thought we could have a night in town, that’s all.”
“What?” I scoffed. “I can’t go.”
“Yes, you can,” he said simply. Like it was just ever so easy to leave for a weekend.
“Trav, I can’t just leave.”
“Are George and Ma not capable of looking after this place?”
“They’re very capable,” I shot back, then realised I’d just helped his side of the argument.
He smiled. Kind of. “I want to get some stuff in town too.”
“Like what?” I asked. “If you want something or need something, you just have to say. We can order most anything online.”
“Well, we’d need to pick this up,” he said, giving me a quick glance. “I was thinking of doing up Ma’s vegetable garden.”
“She has a veggie garden.”
“That’s not a vegetable garden,” he said flatly. “It’s a dry patch of baked clay. It’s not elevated enough, there’s no water retention or filtration. How on earth she grows anything in it is a miracle.”
I was wounded. “George and I built her that.”
His eyes widened. “Please tell me it was before you studied agronomy.”
“It was,” I said indignantly. “I was about sixteen.”
“Oh, thank God. Because if it was afterward, I’d be seriously worried about what you spent three years at college doing.”
I smiled at him. “I told you what I spent three years doing.”
“Hmm,” he huffed. “Yeah, every gay man in Sydney.”
“Not every gay man,” I replied cheerfully. “I’m pretty sure some were straight.”
He snarled at me, and I laughed, but it was short-lived. I touched his duffel bag, feeling the worn canvas. “Trav, you can go into town if you want.”
“I want you to come with me.”
“I can’t.”
“You mean you won’t.”
“Trav, I can’t just leave. I can’t just leave the responsibility on someone else.”
He sighed.
“Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad,” he replied quietly. “I’m disappointed.”
I had no comeback for that.
He reached out, took his duffel bag and quietly put it in the corner of the room. “George said he’s heading out this morning. He’s gonna look for that mob of kangaroos we spotted.”
“Travis.”
“I think I’ll head out with him for the day,” he said, giving me a tight not-happy smile.
Now it was my turn to sigh. “Maybe we could head into the Alice next weekend or the one a fortnight after. When it’s all hands on deck—when everyone else’s here—maybe we could go in town then.”
“Maybe,” he replied. Then he smiled a little more genuinely. “Small steps, Charlie.”
“I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologise. I could go in with the others if I really wanted to.”
“You could,” I agreed. Now I felt guilty. “You know, maybe you should go in with them. Have a weekend away.”
“I don’t want to,” he said simply. “I want to go with you. And now you’ve said we will?” He smiled. “I’ll hold you to that.”
* * * *
“Just you and me again today,” I said to Ma as I handed her a cup of tea. Travis and George had gone out looking for roos for the second day in a row and would be back around the same time everyone else came in from the Alice.
“What’s your plan for the day?” she asked.
“I’ll take Shelby out into the eastern paddock and check on those yearlings.” I sipped my tea. “Then this afternoon before everyone gets back, I’ll look over some books.”
“You and Travis looked cosy on the couch last night.”
“He made me… study.”
“It didn’t look like a great deal of studying going on.”
I hid my smile behind my cup of tea. “Well, it was my first day.”
“Hm mm.” Ma pushed her cup of tea away. “You right to get yourself some lunch today?”
We hadn’t even had breakfast. “Of course,” I told her. “You feeling okay? You’re not all bright-eyed, bushy-tailed like normal. You were a bit quiet yesterday too. Everything okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just a bit under the weather. I think I might be getting a cold,” she said dismissively. “Winters get colder as you get older, didn’t you know that?”
“Ma, you should have said something earlier.”
“I’m fine,” she repeated. “But given everyone’s out for the day and it’s just you and me, I might take it easy. I’m allowed a morning off, aren’t I?”
“Of course you are,” I answered. “Go in and sit in the lounge room. Put your feet up. I’ll make you some toast.”
“You don’t need to do that.”
“Ma. Go in and sit down,” I said, my tone serious. “Now.” Then because it was Ma, I added, “Please.”
I ushered her out of the kitchen and got busy. Toast, juice and water later, I took out the full tray into the lounge room. I pulled one of the side tables over to her seat, grabbed her latest crossword book, and made sure she was comfortable.
“I don’t have to head out this morning,” I told her. “I can stay around the homestead. In fact, I’m sure the dirt bikes could do with a service.”
“Charlie, I am fine,” Ma said. She was getting mad. It was a tone I knew well.
“Ma, if you’re not feeling well, I can look after you.”
“I don’t need a babysitter.”
“Ma.”
“Charles Sutton.”
Bein’ full-named was the line-crossing. I sighed and made myself busy restacking the fireplace with fresh kindling. “If you get cold, throw a match on this, okay?” I stood up and walked to the door. “I have the satellite phone if you need me. And I will be back at lunchtime, and I’ll make you lunch.”
She did roll her eyes and ignore me, but she didn’t argue, so I considered it a win.
I kept my run out east to check on the yearlings fairly short. I kept my promise and made it home by lunchtime, but Ma was up and about in the kitchen. She looked better.
“Here you go, love,” she said, handing me a plate of sandwiches and fruit.
There was enough for two, so I put it on the kitchen table and poured two juices. I loved days like this, when it was just me and Ma and we’d sit at the kitchen table and talk.
It had been far too long.
We talked about the coming muster, the winter cattle drove, and what we’d need to organise. It was still some weeks away yet, but Ma loved to be prepared.
It was late afternoon when I heard the familiar sound of the two utes coming down the driveway and knew everyone was back from their weekend in town. Everyone would go to their own houses—Sutton Station had three workers’ homes—and freshen up for dinner.
It wasn’t long after that I heard mutterings from the veranda. Figuring someone was coming in to see me, I got up from my desk to meet them.
I had only got as far as the hall when Billy came in the front door. He looked uncharacteristically nervous, and his usual half-a-face smile was gone.
“Billy, you okay?”
“Sure, boss,” he said. He pressed down his shirt and looked around the hall.
“Billy, whatever’s bothering you, just say it.”
“My cousin got into some trouble,” he said. “If it’s no problem, Mr Sutton, I was hoping she could stay here.”
“Where is she?”
“She’s here, boss. I brung her back with me already,” he said.
“Is she okay?”
Billy looked as unhappy as I’d ever seen him. He spoke quietly. “The other fellas were talkin’ ’bout… wantin’ to take turns, if you know what I mean, Mr Sutton. I take her with me so they not… do that.”
“Is she okay, Billy?” I asked, immediately concerned. “Has she been hurt?”
“She’s okay,” he answered. “She was scared, and no one was lookin’ after her. But no one touched her if that’s what you mean.”
I breathed a sigh of relief. “It’s fine, Billy. She can stay. Can I meet her?”
Billy looked back at the front door. “Nara?”
An Aboriginal girl walked in, about as frightened as a baby rabbit. She was maybe fifteen years old, had long untidy hair, dark skin and scared, scared eyes. She kept her eyes on Billy, no doubt waiting for his cues.
“She can stay in my place, if that’s okay,” Billy said. “Now that Fisher’s gone, we got the room spare. She won’t be no bother, Mr Sutton.”
I waited for the girl to make eye contact with me. “Nara? Is that your name?”
She nodded.
“You can stay here,” I told her. “But I’ll have no trouble. You’ll be expected to work to earn your keep. Have you had a job before?”
Nara shook her head. “No.”
“Did you go to school?” I asked.
She swallowed hard, and her eyes darted to Billy, before she looked back at me. “I wanted to, but I look after my family instead.”
It was common here in the Outback Aboriginal communities for older girls to assume the role of carer for younger siblings. “Well, you start work in the morning. We’ll discuss station rules tomorrow. But generally, you do what either me or Billy tells you, okay?”
She nodded again and gave me a timid smile. Billy gave a pointed nod toward the door, and Nara was quick to walk out of it. Billy gave me a genuine, relieved smile. “Thank you, Mr Sutton.” I’d known him for years, and I’d never seen him so… uncertain. I knew he had a big family, but he’d always kept his private life exactly that. For him to bring Nara here, to ask if she could stay, meant he had genuine concerns for her.
“Billy, is she really okay?” I asked. She certainly didn’t look okay.
“She will be now,” he said quietly. He walked to the door.
“Billy?” I asked. He stopped and turned to face me. “Are you okay?”
“I’m good, Mr Sutton. I do appreciate your sayin’ she can stay. She won’t be no trouble.”
“I know she won’t,” I replied. It was a warning as much as it was a reassurance.
After he’d gone, I stood in the empty hallway for a minute, then joined Ma in the lounge room. She’d obviously borne witness to the whole conversation.
“That was nice of you,” she said.
“That kid looked scared as hell.”
“She did.”
“Was I too hard on her?” I asked. “I don’t want anyone comin’ here thinking they can do what they please, so I had to say something, but jeez, she looked ready to run.”
Ma gave me a reassuring smile. “She’ll be fine. Let’s give her a day or two to settle in, huh?”
Then because it was a night for what-the-fucks, Trudy and Bacon knocked on the open lounge room door. “Can we see you for a minute?” Trudy asked.
Ma stood up. “Um, I’ll just be heading to my room,” she said, leaving my two station hands standing rather awkwardly in the doorway.
“Come on in, guys,” I said, cautiously curious as to what the purpose of this visit could be. I snatched up the remote and turned the TV off. “What’s up?”
I should have known what was coming when they sat on the lounge together.
“Well,” Bacon started. “We wanted to let you know that we’ve been seeing each other for a while now.”
I’m sure I blinked like an idiot. “Huh?”
“Me and Craig are together. We’re… a couple,” Trudy explained, looking embarrassed. I had never seen her blush. Ever. “Have been for a while.”
I was dumbstruck. It even took me a minute to realise that Craig was Bacon’s real name. I think I laughed. “Um, I’m not sure what to say.”
“We didn’t want to hide it anymore,” Trudy added.
“How long have you…?” I asked, not really sure how to ask that question.
“About a year,” Bacon said. He was smiling, but he looked nervous. He reached over and took Trudy’s hand.
“It’s just now,” Trudy said, “now with things with you and Travis, we thought you might…” No one had ever, ever talked about my relationship with Travis. Well, not to me anyway.
Bacon squeezed her hand. “We weren’t sure if we should say something. We didn’t want you to tell us it wasn’t allowed, or maybe one of us would have to go.”
“What?” I asked. “No. No, that’s not… I wouldn’t do that.” The truth was, a year ago, I probably would have. But now, now that I was living and working with my boyfriend, I could hardly blame them for doing the same. “I know you won’t let it interfere with your work.” There was another warning-cum-reassurance. I was getting good at them.
Bacon shook his head. “We won’t.”
Trudy quickly added, “I’ll kick his ass to the kerb before I lose my job.”
I laughed at Bacon’s expression. “I don’t have a problem with it,” I said. “In fact, I’m sorry you felt you couldn’t say something earlier. I appreciate you telling me now.”
“Travis said you wouldn’t mind,” Bacon said, and from his immediate oh-shit face, I knew he wasn’t supposed to say that.
“Travis knew?” I asked.
Trudy swallowed hard. “He was with us fencing last week,” she said, as though that explained it. “He said you’d be fine with it. Just told us to be honest, that’s all.”
“Did he now?”
“Don’t be mad at him,” Trudy was quick to add. “We asked him not to say anything, and he agreed it would be best coming from us.”
“We just wanted you to know,” Bacon said. “Nothing changes. Everything is just like it was when it comes to work.”
I nodded and gave them a smile. “I know it is. And thanks for telling me.” They took that as their cue to leave, and when they got to the door, I stood up and said, “Hey.” Trudy and Bacon both stopped and looked at me. “Um, I guess I should thank you both as well. For not bein’ bothered about me… and Travis. I, uh, I appreciate that it can’t have been too easy, but you stood by me and that means a lot and I should have told you thanks before now.”
I always rambled when I was nervous.
Both Trudy and Bacon smiled at me. It was probably the most least-boss thing I’d ever said to them. “He’s a good guy,” Trudy said. “Hyperactive or something—he can’t sit still for too long—but he’s a good guy.”
I laughed at that, and after they’d left, I sat back down on the lounge and sighed.
Well, that was weird. Actually, this whole evenin’ had been weird.
Next, I heard the bikes come in and chatter from the shed. When the front door opened, I expected Travis. But it was George.
“Hey,” I said, greeting him.
“Charlie,” he said with a nod.
“Um, just so you know,” I said. “Billy’s cousin will be stayin’ with us for a while. So if you see a kid wanderin’ around, that’s who it is.”
“Fair enough,” he said. Not much fazed George. He looked me over. “You okay there?”
“Weird day,” I answered cryptically.
George laughed, like he knew something I didn’t, but without another word, he disappeared down the hall.
I sat back on the lounge and ran my hand through my hair. What a fucking day. First Ma being unwell, then Billy and his cousin, then Trudy and Bacon… Jesus. I was wonderin’ if anything else could possibly drive this day further into shitville, when I heard Travis walk up the veranda steps. The front door opened and he stuck his head around the door frame. He looked excited and a bit nervous.
“Trav?”
He stepped out, and it was then I saw he was holding something. His hoodie, the one his mother had sent him, was a bundle in his arms. Travis grinned and pulled the fabric back to reveal two big ears and two big brown eyes.
Oh, crap. Travis was holding a baby red kangaroo.