Cherish the Land (32 page)

“I’ve tried,” Seth said, “but the only thing that works is the one thing I promised Jason I wouldn’t do anymore.”

“It pretty much sucks when life takes away your only coping mechanism,” Ian agreed. “I wish I could tell you learning new ones is easy. I can tell you that you don’t have to do it alone.”

“Ian’s right,” Thorne said at Seth’s skeptical look. “Yes, ultimately the choice to cut or to do something else instead is yours and no one can make it for you, but you have people who care about you and want to help you. And you know that or you wouldn’t have come to Chris when you reached the point of not being able to cope anymore. If you’d truly believed you were alone, you would have used that razor instead of tossing it away, promise or no promise.”

“Believing you’re alone is the hardest part to get past,” Ian said. “Fifteen years on this station—
this
station, Seth, with everything that entails and all the amazing people who would do anything for each other—and it took Thorne to make me see I hadn’t been alone since the day I arrived here.”

“And you know all the year-rounders on Lang Downs stayed because they landed here when they had nowhere else to go,” Thorne added. “Caine’s uncle took some people in. Caine has taken in others. But the fact remains that no one who came and stayed had it easy before they got here. It might have been Michael’s or Caine’s decision to offer them a job and a home, but it’s the decision of everyone who stays to help the people who come after us. That includes you.”

“What do I do?” Seth asked. “I don’t even know where to start.”

“There’s no magic cure,” Thorne warned. “This isn’t something that’s just going to go away. It’s been four years and I still have bad moments. Not as many, but it’s something you learn to cope with rather than getting rid of. Beyond that, you have to figure out what works for you. Ian and I can suggest things. You can do online searches for techniques for coping with panic attacks. You can find online support groups if you want to go that route, to talk to people with your specific problems instead of just people who know what it is to have a shit hand in life. Ian or I can give you the name of a therapist if you want to talk to someone that way.”

“The real thing, though,” Ian said, “is that you have to do it for yourself. Jason will support you just like we will, but if you’re only changing for him, that puts a huge burden on him. You need to do it for yourself.”

Seth nodded. “I don’t think I can handle it tonight.”

“No, not tonight,” Ian agreed. “You need to sleep if you can. Tomorrow when you’re rested and Jason has come home and you can put the panic behind you, we can talk specifics. Tonight just remember you aren’t alone.”

“I can’t go back over there without him,” Seth said.

“You don’t have to,” Chris replied. “You still have a room and a bed here. The sheets are clean. You can sleep here. Or we can pull a couple of mattresses onto the floor in the living room and all sleep there together. Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

“Pretty fucked up reason to have a slumber party,” Seth said.

“If it’s what you need to make it through the night or the next day, and it doesn’t hurt you or anyone else, it’s not fucked up at all,” Thorne said. “After you realize you’re not alone, that’s the next lesson you have to learn. Taking care of yourself isn’t selfish or fucked up or anything else. It’s what you have to do so you can deal with everything else. I’ve seen men drink themselves into oblivion. I’ve seen men overdose on drugs. I’ve seen men eat their own guns when it all got to be too much. A slumber party is a hell of a lot better than any of those options, so if that’s what you need tonight, accept Chris’s offer. If it isn’t, figure out what you need and ask for it.”

Seth still didn’t look convinced, but Thorne knew from experience that acceptance had to come from within, not from someone else. They would keep supporting and encouraging him until he could make those choices on his own.

“The rain is tapering off, it sounds like,” he said. “Ian and I are going to head home before it gets worse again, but we’ll talk more tomorrow, and we’re never far away if you need us.”

“Thanks,” Chris said.

“Thank you,” Seth echoed. “I don’t want to feel this way anymore.”

“And you’ve just done the hardest part,” Thorne said. “Now that you’ve decided to do something about it, it will get easier. We’ll talk again tomorrow.”

S
ETH
LAY
in his old bed and stared toward the ceiling, not that he could actually see it since the power was still out and the shutters all still closed. The rain had slowed to a gentle patter on the roof, but Jason still hadn’t called. Even a light rain could disrupt cell service—it was why they carried radios in the outer paddocks—but knowing that wasn’t enough to settle his fears. He needed to hear Jason’s voice, or at least see his name next to a new text before he could stop worrying completely. He clung to the promise Thorne and Ian had made. No matter what happened, whether Jason showed up in the morning or never came back, he wouldn’t face it alone. How many times had he watched the inhabitants of Lang Downs rally around someone in need? They had rallied around him and Chris when they’d first arrived and were still strangers. They would be there for him if he needed them now. He just had to hold on to that thought. He wasn’t alone unless he wanted to be, and he had far more than just Chris in his corner now. He’d grown so used to the idea of only having Chris, of never knowing what a real family felt like, that he’d failed to recognize it when he finally had one. Maybe they weren’t a family anyone outside of Lang Downs would recognize, but it was far more real than anything else in his life had ever been. He’d always had Chris. Now he had a station full of brothers and sisters, uncles and aunts, friends who wouldn’t let him fall no matter what. Hell, the look on Carley’s face when he’d called her “Mum” should have clued him in. He wasn’t quite ready to call Patrick “Dad,” but he could accept him as an uncle. Or a father-in-law.

How the fuck had he got this lucky without seeing it? He didn’t deserve it, but he’d long since learned Lang Downs wasn’t something a person earned, but something they fell into and held on to for all they were worth. He’d just always applied it to Chris, not to himself. He’d been a tagalong to Chris’s rescue and subsequent adoption by Lang Downs, the annoying little brother they had to keep if they wanted Chris to stay.

He’d been blind. Not willfully so but rather spectacularly, regardless. He hadn’t registered how Caine had welcomed him back immediately and with far more responsibilities and fewer checks than he’d give the typical new employee. Caine had treated him as a year-rounder from the moment he’d brought up staying. Seth had shouldered the responsibility without hesitation, never pausing to consider everything else that came with that title. He’d stepped up to help Sam and Jeremy because that’s what the year-rounders did for each other, but he hadn’t had faith that they would do the same for him in his time of need.

He owed them one hell of an apology when this was over and Jason was back safe and he could breathe again. He still didn’t understand why they had adopted him the way they had, but he couldn’t argue against the fact that they had. He had a family. A real, honest-to-God family who believed in him and accepted him, warts and all, and who would move heaven and earth for him if that’s what he needed them to do. If Jason hadn’t texted in the morning, they’d head out toward Davidson Springs, some of them stopping to check each drover’s hut, others going straight along the road to look for him. They’d do it for Jason, whom some of them had watched grow up, but they’d also be doing it for Seth, because Seth needed Jason, and Seth was family too.

He had a family. He didn’t know what to do with a family. His father had abandoned him before he was born. His mother had never been reliable. Tony and his stepsiblings had been a nightmare. He’d only ever had Chris. Now he had Jason—he would never stop being grateful for that miracle—and a station full of people who would do everything they could to build him up instead of tear him down. He wouldn’t be subjected to anything like Ilene’s domineering ways or his stepsiblings’ malicious taunts. He might never understand why they believed in him the way they did, but he couldn’t argue with the fact that they accepted him for who he was and would support him in whatever came.

A rather hysterical laugh escaped him despite his attempts to muffle it. He had a
family.

“Seth, are you okay?” Chris called.

Seth nearly laughed again. It was a good thing he and Jason hadn’t had sex in here. Jason wasn’t quiet when he came—Seth loved wringing as many noises out of him as he could—and Seth would miss them if he had to muffle them because of Chris and Jesse.

“Yeah,” he called to Chris. “Maybe for the first time in a long time.”

Chris stuck his head in the door, the light from the candle in his hand illuminating his worried expression. “You sound better than you did earlier. Can I come in?”

Chris always asked. No one else had ever bothered, but Chris and Jesse always asked. Seth patted the bed next to him. “Sure. I could use the company.”

Chris set the candle on the nightstand and stretched out on the bed next to Seth.

“Do you remember our father at all?” Seth asked.

“Not really,” Chris said. “I was only four when you were born and he wasn’t around much even then.”

“Long enough to get Mum pregnant and then scarper,” Seth said with a nod. “How do you do it? We came from hell. What do we know about loving anyone? About staying with anyone?”

“We aren’t them,” Chris said. “They gave us life, and then they gave us the example of what not to do. We aren’t limited by that. We aren’t doomed to repeat their failures. We have other examples to follow now. Good ones. You want to know how you stay? Look at Caine. Hell, look at Macklin. He’s got Sarah now, but his father wasn’t just absent—he was abusive. Macklin got away, and he got here, and now he has Caine. Thorne lost his family in a fire when he was eighteen and then he moved from place to place in the Commandos.”

“And now he has Ian.”

“That’s right. We’re surrounded by people who have done exactly what you’re worried about not being able to do. Maybe Mum didn’t give us much of a foundation to stand on, but we’ve got one now. We have the kind of family now that doesn’t let you down.”

“Yeah, I’m starting to realize that,” Seth said.

“Starting to?” Chris asked.

“I’m a little slow on the uptake.”

“A little?”

Seth shrugged. What he could he say? Chris was right.

“Ten years,” Chris said with a shake of his head. “It’s been ten years since Caine saved the life of a complete stranger and took him in—along with his kid brother—and let him cut vegetables in the kitchen until he could earn his living another way.” Chris bopped Seth on the shoulder. “Ten years!”

“Yeah, but I wasn’t here for a lot of those years,” Seth said. “Somebody insisted I go off to uni and get a degree.”

“A degree that has made you irreplaceable on the station, I might add,” Chris said.

“Not the point,” Seth retorted. “The point is I haven’t been here. You’ve had ten years to soak up everything that goes with living here. I haven’t.”

“You’re here now,” Chis said, “with everything that means.”

“I’m figuring that out, like I said. I just have to make it register in my brain.”

“It takes some adjustment,” Chris admitted, “but you’ll figure it out eventually. The thing about family is, you can take them for granted. You get caught up in the everyday stuff and you don’t think about it. You get comfortable. You don’t worry about them constantly. You may even forget a little how tight that bond is. Then something happens and they’re right there and you remember. I don’t know if I ever told you this, but the day I was bashed, when I told you to run and you did, I never doubted—not even for a second—that you’d look for help and you’d bring whoever you found back to try and help me. I wondered if you’d get there fast enough, but I never doubted you’d come back. I just hoped I’d still be alive when you did. Never in a million years did I dream you’d stumble on the one man in all of Yass guaranteed to rain fury on them like an avenging angel.”

“How could you have that much faith in me?” Seth asked. “I don’t have that much faith in myself.”

“You’re my brother, that’s how.”

The simplicity of the statement left Seth trembling. He and Chris had grown apart somewhat in recent years, with Seth away at uni and Chris wrapped up in his new life with Jesse. Seth had accepted it as inevitable—miserable, but inevitable. Now he realized it wasn’t inevitable at all, and indeed hadn’t really happened. He hadn’t needed Chris, so Chris had let him stretch his wings, but he’d always been there, ready to catch Seth if he faltered.

“Thanks, Chris.”

“For what?”

“For being my brother.”

Chris rapped him on the forehead. “I didn’t have anything to do with that.”

“Maybe not, but you chose how you’ve acted all the years since. You had faith in me when no one else cared what happened to me, and because you did, I’m here now, about to have my dreams come true. Mum’s boyfriends and Tony didn’t teach me how to be a man. I learnt that all from you.”

“Go to sleep,” Chris said. “We’ll have to clean up from this bitch of a storm tomorrow. You’ll be miserable if you don’t sleep.”

“Yes, Dad,” Seth teased, but his eyelids finally felt heavy, like he might fall asleep. He pulled the covers tighter around his shoulders and closed his eyes. He felt the mattress shift as Chris got up and left, taking the candle with him, but Seth didn’t need the light anymore.