Red Dirt Heart 04 - Red Dirt Heart 4 (8 page)

I laughed at the look of revulsion on his face. I’d seen him brush off cowshit, blood and afterbirth like it was nothing, but oatmeal made him wanna hurl. “You wait ‘til Gracie wants to share it with you and won’t eat any of it until you eat some first.”

Charlie went pale and shook his head. “Uh-uh. Hell no.” Thankfully, Ma walked in with a cloth and cleaned up the mess, saving Charlie from having to look at it any longer.

Charlie stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans. He looked at me expectantly, clearly not sure what I was there for.

“Got a sec?” I asked.

He blinked in surprise. “Sure.”

“Walk with me.” I headed down the hall to the back door.

We stepped off the veranda and walked past the veggie garden toward the shed. “What’s up?”

“Just wanted to check you’re okay.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“At breakfast, when you were telling them about the police checks and the youth program, you seemed… outta sorts.”

We walked into the shed. “Yeah. I dunno. It was just harder than I thought.”

“Where you worried that they might say no? Then the program doesn’t happen.”

He shook his head. “Not really. I meant what I said. If just one of ’em don’t want it, then it just doesn’t happen. Pure and simple.”

“Then why were you so nervous?” I pressed as we walked through the shed and toward the stable. “I just haven’t seen you like that in a while, that’s all.”

“They know I want the program to run,” he said. “Which makes ’em obligated to say yes. I don’t want them to think they have to do anything for my sake, ya know? I guess it’s different now. A few years ago, I just woulda told ’em it was happening and they could like it or leave. But not now.” He shook his head again. “It’s not like that now.”

We stopped walking inside the stables. “No, it’s not,” I agreed. “Is that a bad thing?”

“No…”

“But?”

“But it worries me that the boss-friend line has blurred,” he admitted quietly. “Or not even blurred, but disappeared altogether.”

“They respect you, Charlie.”

“I know that.”

“Do you?” I asked, because from the unsure look on his face it hardly looked like it to me. “Any one of them would do anything you asked. Not just because you’re their friend, Charlie. But because you’re their boss. And a freakin’ good boss at that. You expect a lot from them, but you give a lot in return. Don’t mistake that for weakness, Charlie. It’s the sign of a good leader.”

Charlie took a deep breath and finally smiled at me. “Is that your motivation speech before leading your troops off to war?” he joked. “Should I paint my face blue and put on a kilt?”

I snorted out a laugh. “We really need to widen your movie range.”

He grinned. “Hey, at least it wasn’t
Die Hard
.”

“True. And I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing you wearing a kilt. Just sayin’.”

It was then Charlie realised where we were. We’d stopped in the stables, yes, but we were standing right in front of the now-empty stall. No hay, no feed, no bridles hanging on the door.

No Shelby.

Charlie paled a little, and his wide eyes met mine. “What are we here for?”

“Charlie,” I started.

He shook his head. “No.” And he quickly walked out the way we’d come. I went after him and grabbed his arm, bringing him to a stop. He pulled his arm back, but didn’t move to leave. He just looked away and shook his head. “I know how long it’s been,” he said softly. “You don’t need to remind me. You don’t need to tell me it’s time to get over it and move on, because I know.” He looked at me then, his eyes a haunted brown. “But I can’t.”

I pulled him against me and wrapped my arms around him tight, but his body remained taut. “You’re not ready,” I said softly. “And that’s okay. You don’t ever have to
be
ready.”

He finally yielded in my arms, melting into me, his face buried in my neck. “I’m not. I’m not ready.” He took a deep breath, but never moved to pull away from me. “Do you think it’s silly? That I… just can’t…”

“No. Never silly,” I reassured him, rubbing his back. “I had just wondered about this muster and what the logistics of it would be.”

Charlie pulled back and gave my hand a squeeze before dropping it. He walked over to the bench at the back of the shed and leaned against it, ran his hands through his hair and sighed. “Same as usual, I guess. But I’ll take the old ute or a dirt bike. I know I could take one of the spare horses, but after not being ridden for so long, it’d likely cause ’em more harm than good.” He shook his head as though he thought himself stupid or foolish. He looked at me and I could see the vulnerability in his eyes. His voice was quiet. “But I don’t think I could ride another horse.”

“Then you don’t have to,” I said confidently. “You take the truck, I’ll go out on Texas with Billy, and meet up with you every night.”

Charlie looked back toward the stables. “You still wanna take him?”

“Yes,” I told him honestly. “Charlie, you know ridin’ horses, chasin’ down cattle and sleeping under the stars with you is one of my favourite things.”

He nodded.

“Well, it will always be one of my favourite things. But we still have a job to do. And this is no different. You still need to lead the team, that’s not ever gonna change.”

“I feel stupid,” he whispered. “I’m a grown man, and out here I’ve seen the full circle of life a dozen times over. Things die out here, they rust, they seize up, and we move on. But I just can’t… I don’t want to even look for a new horse.”

I took his hand and waited for him to look at me. “Thank you for telling me how you feel.”

He made a face, about to protest again no doubt.

“Don’t discredit your instincts, Charlie,” I told him seriously. “What did you tell me one time? There’s no room for mistakes out here, especially during a muster. If you got on a horse before you were ready and something happened? If you were hurt or lost among a few thousand head of cattle, it could be dangerous.” I put my hand to his chest. “So listen to what’s in here. You’ll know when you’re ready.”

He closed his eyes and smiled. “Thank you.”

I kissed his lips. “You’re very welcome.”

“There was one thing, though,” he said. I looked at him questioningly, and he smiled. “You sure you wanna ride without me? I mean, it’s normally something we do together…”

I chuckled. “Hell yes, I wanna ride. I love mustering.”

“Five or six days in the saddle, freezing cold nights, the smell, the lack of showers, toilets…”

“I know, right? That’s why I love it! Well, the no-toilets thing is a bit of an issue, but the good far outweighs the bad.”

He batted his eyelids and pouted. “There’ll be no me…”

“You’ll be there at night, yes?”

He shrugged one shoulder. “Not all of them. If I’m in the ute, I’ll head far north, and you and Billy on horseback will be bringin’ ’em in from the east, I guess.” I could tell he was trying to figure out how he could make it work.

“Okay. Compromise. I’ll start on Texas. I’ll do three days in the saddle with Billy and see if maybe Ernie or Bacon wants to swap over. I’m pretty sure Trudy wanted to do a couple of days, so when she heads back to the homestead to be with Gracie, I’ll take the quad-bike. Texas can be a supplies horse, you will take the dirt bike and Billy and Ernie can fight it out over the truck.”

He smiled like it might work. “Did you have that planned?”

I snorted. “No, not at all. But promise me one thing.”

“Anything.”

“On day four, when I get the quad-bike and you take the dirt bike, we split off from the others and have the last two days by ourselves. I mean, we’ll have to meet up with them to refuel, but the nights are ours alone.”

Now he smiled. “Now that I can do.”

Legacies.

Charlie hung up the phone from speaking to Sam and smiled at me. He was behind his desk, and I sat in my usual chair at the side. “Said he’d love to. He’ll check with his boss for time off but said it should it be fine. He said Laura was pretty keen to come back and visit as well.”

“Your mother? To help us muster? Can she ride a horse?”

“I dunno. But I was thinkin’ maybe she could stay here and help Ma and Nara do the cooking and looking after little Gracie. Trudy looked disappointed the other day when we were talking about mustering and she wasn’t coming.”

“Check with her first, though,” I warned him. “You can’t go making plans for someone else’s kid, Charlie.”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “I know that, Travis.”

Charlie calling me “Travis” instead of “Trav” was like being full-named by my momma.

He smirked at my glare. “Anyway, he said he’ll call me after he’s spoken to Laura. Who knows, maybe Ainsley will want to visit as well.”

“What about the kids from Alice?” I asked. “As part of the disadvantaged kids program, maybe they’d like to see a muster?” They weren’t supposed to come out until after the muster, and I knew as soon as I’d said it, he was gonna say no.

“Absolutely not. At least with Sam, I know he’s got a sensible head on his shoulders, and Laura is a nurse. She even helped us calving before.”

“Delilah,” I said. “She helped calve Delilah.”

“Exactly. So I know she’s useful at least, and it will be great company for Ma and Nara and another pair of hands to watch Gracie. But there’s no way I’d have some know-it-all teenaged kid doin’ somethin’ stupid or gettin’ themselves lost when we’re busy as hell.”

I gave him a good and proper glare. “Not everyone who gets lost is stupid.”

Charlie laughed. “No, present company excluded, of course.”

“And I wasn’t lost,” I reminded him. “I knew where I was. It was
you
who didn’t know where I was.”

He rolled his eyes and went back to subject at hand. “Anyway, if Trudy wants a day or two mustering—and I’d like her to—she’d probably feel more comfortable knowing that Laura’s here, being a nurse and all.”

“When will you know?”

“As soon as Sam calls me back?”

And just then, the phone rang. Charlie smiled and picked up the receiver. “Sutton Station.” His smile died, and I knew it wasn’t Sam. “Speaking… Ah, I see… Actually, yes. I’d like to meet with you… Sounds good… See you then.” Charlie hung up and waggled an eyebrow at me.

“Who was that?”

“That was the call from the broker we were wondering if we’d ever get. He’s passing by tomorrow and wanted to know if he could call in.”

“The broker?” I repeated. “But you said you wanted to meet with him! Charlie, what the hell for?”

His smile was sly. “I wanna find out who he’s working for, and what better way to do that than to ask him directly?”

The phone rang again; this time it was Sam. He and Laura were gonna come down and stay the week. Charlie smiled as he disconnected the call, and it warmed my heart to see him so happy when it came to his brother and birth mother. It was something he never dreamed possible, but Charlie’s family, blood and otherwise, just about made him burst. Still grinning, he stood up. “I better tell Ma we got two extra mouths to feed.”

* * * *

Charlie and I waited around the next day for the broker to arrive, and after the brand-new four-wheel drive pulled up at the homestead, Charlie groaned as the man got out of the car.

The broker, if that what he was, was a man in his late thirties, medium build, if a bit thin, and pale. He wore his wannabe-farmer clothes, trying to look like he fit in. Which was laughable, because one look at him and it was pretty clear he’d never worked a day on any kind of ranch. He had clean boots, a freshly pressed shirt, no dust on his moleskins and his hat looked fresh out of a box. When we went outside to meet him, his soft pen-pushing handshake confirmed it.

“Martin Combes,” he introduced himself.

When Charlie shook his hand, I wondered what it took for Martin not to cringe at the strength of Charlie’s grip. Martin’s hand was a limp, cold fish, and Charlie’s was a warm, strong, rough rancher’s hand.

“Come inside,” Charlie said, waving his hand toward the house. “I think there’s tea brewing and fresh scones.”

Martin, as he explained, had been in Alice Springs and the surrounding districts, doing the rounds of farms and businesses alike. “I appreciate you taking the time to see me.”

Charlie smiled at him, just as Nara and Ma brought in morning tea. We sat around the dining table, as meetings here often did, and as Charlie poured our guest some tea, I couldn’t help but smile as I saw him the way this Martin probably did. Seeing and meeting Charlie Sutton for the first time was probably confusing. Charlie was a farmer: tough, rugged, well-worn and his clothes were already dusty from the four hours of work he’d done by ten a.m.

But he was polite and intelligent and, though I might be biased, very good-looking. And if Martin wasn’t a little intimidated by Charlie’s company profile and reputation, he probably was by the confidence he exuded.

I smiled as Charlie put my cup of tea in front of me. His thick fingers seemed like they could crush the dainty china teacup. He placed a cup in front of Martin with equal finesse before sitting down and leaning back and smiling at Martin. “Please, help yourself to the scones. Made fresh this morning.”

“Oh no,” he declined, sipping his tea. “Thanks anyway. They look delicious, but I’m supposed to be watching what I eat.”

Charlie didn’t miss a beat. “Ma will be offended if you don’t.”

“Oh.” Martin quickly put his cup down and picked up a baked scone, or biscuit as we called them back in the States.

I smiled behind my cup knowing Ma couldn’t give two shits whether this guy ate her food or not. Charlie didn’t actually smile, but his eyes flickered with amusement.

“I hear you’ve got a few interested people,” Charlie said, getting down to business.

Martin nodded and swallowed his mouthful. “Yes, there’s been a few who want out.”

“Can I ask you something?” Charlie pressed.

“Sure.”

“Are you freelance? Or do you work for someone?” Charlie sipped his tea.

Martin blinked. “Um…”

Charlie looked at him squarely. “Maybe I should have asked if those properties are now for sale on the open market? You know, if I were interested in buying?”

Now I blinked in surprise.
Buying?

“Well,” Martin started. “I have buyers already…”

Charlie nodded like he was expecting that answer. “Which conglomerate is it? Cahills? Meyers?” Even I’d heard of those names, the biggest beef corporations in Australia.

Martin smiled, probably knowing he’d walked right into that. “Yes. Cahills.”

Charlie sipped his tea again. “So you work for them?”

Martin nodded slowly. “In a roundabout kind of way.”

“Well, you either do or you don’t,” Charlie said, his tone passive. “I’m not interested in selling. Never was. Just wanted to know who was trying to monopolise the market out here, that’s all.”

“Fair enough,” Martin said. “Were you interested in buying, or was that just a ruse for information?”

Charlie laughed. “I don’t need another station. I got my hands pretty full here.”

Martin smiled now, and the mood was more relaxed now that no pretences were on the table. “Most of the farmers I’ve spoken to say it’s getting on hard times. Not so much the weather or the economy, but finding someone to take it on after they retire.”

Charlie sighed. “Yeah, not many kids want a life out here these days. Work yourself into an early grave for nothing but heat and dust. I’d imagine life’s a whole lot easier in the city. There’s no such thing as a nine-to-five out here.”

Martin smiled at that. “No, definitely not.” He paused for a moment. “Can I tell you something?”

Charlie shrugged. “Sure.”

“I was told not to waste my time coming out to see you.”

I snorted into my tea, and a slow smile spread across Charlie’s face. “Is that right?”

“Yeah,” Martin continued. “It wasn’t a bad thing, so don’t be offended.”

“Oh, I’m not,” Charlie said, clearly amused.

“Some of the older guys said you’d never sell. Not now, not ever. That’s why I was surprised you wanted to meet with me.”

“I’m not interested in selling,” Charlie said again. “I probably should have told you that on the phone yesterday, but I wanted to know who you worked for. You said you were passing by…”

Martin put his cup of tea on the table. “Oh, I don’t mind calling in. You never know… one day you might change your mind.”

Charlie smiled at him. “Actually, it would have to be over my dead body.”

“And mine,” I said casually.

Martin turned to me. I think he’d forgotten I was there. “Yes. I believe those were the words used. That someone else buying this place would be over your dead body.”

“Let me guess,” Charlie said with a laugh. “Did Greg Pietersen tell you that?”

Martin shook his head. “A fellow by the name of Jack Melville told me that.”

Charlie’s eyebrows shot up. “Really? And how was old Jack? Did he lecture you on the importance of maintaining one’s heritage and how this country will go to hell on the back of a quick dollar?” Charlie snorted. “Or did he threaten you with harming the integrity of the constitution of beef farming until you drove off his property?”

Martin’s smile faltered and he shook his head. “No, actually. He’s selling up.”

Charlie blinked. Then blinked again. His mouth fell open. I don’t think I’d ever seen him so shocked. He cleared his throat and sat up straighter. “Really?”

Martin nodded. “Maybe I’m talking out of school, but he felt he had no other option.”

“I’ve seen his sales figures,” Charlie said. “He’s doin’ okay. Better than most.”

“Oh, his business is fine,” Martin agreed. “His kids wanted nothing to do with it. He said he’s getting too old for this life, his wife agreed, and he’d prefer to have some say in where his property ends up, rather than his two sons fight over the money when they sell it after he’s gone.”

Charlie was quiet and scratched his thumb at the handle of his teacup for a long while. “That’s a shame,” he said quietly. “He was a stubborn fool and we disagreed about many things. But he lasted sixty years out here, and that’s more than I can hope for.”

Seeing Charlie’s mood had dampened, Martin took it as his cue to leave. After we’d shaken hands and we watched him drive away, Charlie stood at the window, seemingly lost in his thoughts.

I didn’t expect the news of Melville selling out to affect him like this. I walked over and put my hand on his arm. “You okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah.” Then he shrugged and whispered, “I don’t know.”

“What he said about Melville is bothering you, isn’t it?”

His brow furrowed. “He has two sons. Two! And neither one of them wants it? Did they hate it so much?” He looked at me with wide, troubled eyes. “I mean, fair enough. Whatever. That’s their choice.”

There was more to it. With Charlie, there usually was, but the way he shook his head and chewed on his lip meant there was something he wasn’t saying. “What’s really bothering you?”

“What happens to this place?” he asked quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“When I die.”

“Oh, Charlie.”

“No, Trav. It’s something I should have thought about before now. Actually, I can’t believe I haven’t thought about it long before now!”

I didn’t like him thinkin’ such things. Actually, it kind of made my chest all tight even thinkin’ about Charlie not being here. I didn’t really know what to say. “It’s not particularly pleasant topic of discussion.”

“Doesn’t mean we shouldn’t discuss it. I mean, what if I were to die tomorrow? Or in sixty years? Who gets this place? You? That’s fine with me, I’d happily leave it to you.”

I was lost for words, humbled by his offer, but I knew one thing for certain. “I’m not sure I want it. Not without you? I can’t be here without you.”

His eyes softened, and he gave me a sad smile. “Yes you would. You love it as much as me.” He shook his head. “But what if we both die in some freak accident together, Trav? What does that mean for this place? Does the government just come in and take it? I mean, would they?”

“What about Sam? He wasn’t raised here, but he is your brother.”

Charlie shrugged. “Maybe.” He shook his head again, clearly agitated. “Sure he likes it, and it’s a fun holiday for him for a week at a time, but he doesn’t love it. I want this place to keep going, Trav. I don’t want it to get sold out to some huge corporation. I want the person who owns it to love it. They need to love it like we do, Trav.”

I looked over to the door to make sure no one was there. I whispered, “What about George and Ma?”

“Sure. But what if it’s not for another forty years? I don’t think George will want it when he’s almost ninety. And who would he leave it to? He doesn’t have kids either.”