Red Dirt Heart 04 - Red Dirt Heart 4 (9 page)

Either?

Oh.

Oh…

“You’re talking about kids?”

His face twisted. “I don’t know!” He ran his hands through his hair and breathed out long and slow. “Maybe there should be some legacy. I don’t know. I really don’t. It’s selfish of me to even think it, and look at Melville! He had two kids and it didn’t get him anywhere. Neither one of them wanted his place.”

I wasn’t sure what to say. Not that I was capable of stringin’ together anything that woulda made sense. So instead of saying anything—or the wrong thing—I just pulled him by his shirt until I could wrap both arms around him.

He huffed against my neck. “I was just foolish-thinkin’.” His breath was all warm on my skin. “I dunno what I’m thinkin’. I dunno even if I want to bring kids up out here. Maybe I shouldn’t have said anything.”

I rubbed his back. “Don’t apologise for telling me what you’re thinking or feeling,” I said with a kiss to the side of his head.

Then something grabbed my boot. I pulled back from Charlie to find Nugget with his teeth in the side of my boot. “You’re damn lucky I was wasn’t barefooted, you little shit.”

Charlie bent down and picked him up. “Stop trying to bite Travis. If I wanna hug him, I’ll damn well hug him. Got it, little guy?”

Nugget just blinked innocently, and seriously, I swear the wombat smiled at him. Charlie chuckled and put him back down and the little shit waddled out of the room just as Ma was walking in. “Lunch in ten, boys. Can you let the others know?”

“Sure thing,” Charlie said. He looked at me and smiled. “Thanks. I didn’t mean to go off on some mad tangent before. I was just thinking out loud, that’s all.”

“I know,” I told him. He wasn’t ready to make any decisions on us having kids yet. I mean, it took him a whole year to finally admit we were engaged to be married. But he was thinkin’ about it, and that was a huge step forward for Charlie. “Thanks for telling me, though.”

“I’m not saying yes, so don’t get too excited. But I ain’t saying no either,” he continued. He touched my arm. “Like I said, I was just thinking out loud.”

I snorted. “Is that your legal disclaimer?”

“Yep, like those sale ads on telly,” he said, walking to the door. Then he mumbled something low and fast like they do on TV and finished with, “Terms and conditions apply.”

I laughed as the front door closed behind him, and Ma smiled at me. “Sounded like an interesting conversation with that broker fella?”

I thought back to what Charlie said afterward, about leaving a legacy. “Very interesting, indeed.”

The best job in the world.

Sam and Laura arrived at Sutton Station the day before we were set to ride out for the yearly winter muster.

Charlie met them at their car with a quick hug for Sam and a kiss on the cheek for Laura. We grabbed their bags and took them inside, gave them ten minutes to freshen up and say quick hellos, then we put them both to work.

Laura didn’t even blink. Just jumped straight into the kitchen without even bein’ asked to. There was a helluva lot of food to prepare, but she didn’t even hesitate. Sam, on the other hand, took a bit encouragement. After Charlie had shown him the back veranda where everything was lined up to be loaded into the old ute and onto horses, poor Sam said, “I went camping once. It didn’t look like this.”

Charlie laughed. “Right. You pack your own swag and pack light enough not to a burden. Essentials only, such as the three T’s: toothbrush, toothpaste, toilet paper.”

Sam blinked, dumbfounded, still looking at the gear we were taking. “So, no nights by the pizza oven or afternoon sleeps in a hammock in the shade?”

Charlie burst out laughing and clapped his hand on his brother’s back. “By the end of the week, you’ll never complain about a day in your office again.”

And all jokes aside, really, Sam did just great.

He took to it like a duck to a water. He went in the ute with Charlie on the first day, which was probably safest, letting him see what we did and how we did it.

The second day Sam wanted to go by horseback. “It looks like you have more fun.”

Which was funny as hell, because by the time we made camp that night and he slid off his horse, he walked like he had an orange shoved up his ass and groaned with each step.

“Wanna go back in the ute tomorrow?” Charlie asked.

Sam nodded weakly and oh so slowly lowered himself to sit on the ground, which made everyone laugh. The poor guy. But he flipped the others off when they joked around with him, and he was smiling.

The next day, when George flew the chopper in with fresh supplies, Charlie saw the opportunity to take Sam up with him for a quick flight while we pushed the herd south.

I knew Charlie was gonna show off a little, taking his city-raised brother for loops and turns, chasin’ stray cattle through the scrub at a stomach-turning pace.

Ernie laughed. “Bet Charlie has to clean up spew off the dash.”

George, in his dry-as-hell way, threw his leg over Charlie’s dirt bike and said, “Nah, Charlie’ll fly at ninety degrees when he spews. It’ll just drop straight out.” He kickstarted the bike and we kept on moving the herd.

When Charlie landed the chopper a short time later, we were expecting a green-gilled, vomit-covered Sam to all but fall out of the R22. But he bounded out, grinnin’ like a madman, just like Charlie.

They looked even more alike when they smiled like that.

“That was freakin’ awesome!” Sam cried, loud enough for us all to hear.

I laughed and shook my head. They were like peas in a pod.

On day three of the muster, George took Trudy back home and returned with Laura. Charlie’s birth mother was adamant to put in at least one night out in the freezing cold, and I think I had an insight as to where Charlie might have inherited his sheer will to prove himself.

Laura opted for the old ute, while Charlie rode a dirt bike, and she was quick to use the two-way radio.

“Up on your left, Charlie,” she said into the radio. “About two hundred metres.”

Charlie took off on the bike and herded the stray cattle back into the mob as we walked them down the fence line.

Then she tailed the huge mob of cattle, pushing them along at a steady pace. When George brought in the last of the stragglers with the helicopter, Laura drove the old ute out wide and when a good dozen steers broke off and tried to escape, she gunned the old truck and kept them together so Ernie and Billy could bring them back on horseback.

When she rounded in back past Charlie, she let out a loud “woo-hoo” with her arm in the air, and he busted up laughing as he was swallowed by her dust.

I’d always wondered where Charlie got his streak of crazy from. He told me stories of jumpin’ in raging rivers and ridin’ bulls, and it never seemed something his father would do.

Now I knew.

And as we warmed ourselves by the campfire that night, Laura, with her messy hair and dirt-stained face, fit right in and joked with the rest of us. It wasn’t forced. It was comforting and welcome. And of course, Charlie smiled the entire time.

The pieces were all starting to fit together. All the pieces that made Charlie Sutton whole were slowly falling into place. The life he never thought he’d have with a family that accepted and loved him was his.

Now I only had to get him to see that he could, one day—not now, but
one day
—have a family of his own.

* * * *

On the fourth day, Charlie gave directions for the others to follow. We loaded our gear onto the quad-bike, and like every muster since I’d been here, we split off from the others to spend the last two days by ourselves.

We kept in constant radio contact, of course, but the nights were ours.

Once the cattle were settled for the night, Charlie started a campfire and I got our bed ready. Just one swag for the two of us, I had every intention of using body heat to keep warm.

Charlie looked at the single swag. “Where’s yours?”

I pointed to the swag on the ground. “There.”

“Where’s mine?”

I pointed to the same swag. “There.”

He snorted. “It’ll be… cosy.”

“That’s why I did it.”

Charlie smiled as he looked into the fire. “Planning of taking advantage of me?”

“In the most deviant of ways, yes.”

He chuckled. “Dinner first?”

I grabbed my crotch. “If you insist.”

He laughed this time. “You have no shame.”

“Not an ounce.”

He carefully placed some wood on the fire and turned so he was on his knees facing me. He eyed the bulge in my dusty jeans and licked his lips. “Well, if you insist.”

* * * *

On the last day of the muster and with the homestead almost in sight, our tired and weary spirits started to lift. Ernie and Billy, despite being dirty and tired as hell, were now smiling as they trotted their horses alongside the cattle. Even George met us a mile or two from the homestead on his horse, Lizard, and I watched Charlie as Charlie watched them.

He was on a dirt bike, but he’d pulled to a stop. And he watched them. Three of his men, his friends, on horseback, riding with ease, turning on point and galloping off to bring a wayward steer back to the herd.

He didn’t say a word, but I could see it in his eyes and by the set of his mouth that he thinking, wishing he was riding with them.

Was it just a reminder that he lost Shelby? Or was it somethin’ else? Did he miss Shelby? Or ridin’ horses through the desert? Musterin’ cattle on horseback, feelin’ them stop, turn and edge the cattle?

I’d wondered how he’d fare during this muster. Without being told as much, I’d guessed it was his first roundup without a horse, probably in his entire life. He thought before he wasn’t ready to move on, but maybe now, from the look in his eyes at least, he realised he was.

Charlie’s radio cracked to life and he startled from his thoughts. He spoke to whoever it was and then was back to being Charlie: giving orders, taking charge, and leadin’ the herd the final distance home and into the funnelled corrals.

There was nothing like coming home from a muster. Everyone was smilin’ and laughin’, Ma and Nara put on a huge spread, we got properly showered and cleaned up, and recounted stories as we sat around and rested in the warmth of the afternoon winter sun.

I loved it.

As we sat around at the back of the house, our bellies full and our bodies resting, Charlie stretched out and tapped his foot to mine. “What are you smiling about?”

Everyone looked at me and waited for me to answer, probably wondering what joke I was thinkin’ about.

“Just thinkin’ about all the suckers in the city that drive themselves into the ground for a nine-to-five,” I said.

“You’ve worked like ninety hours this week, not forty,” Charlie said.

“Yeah, but I get to call this work.” I waved my hand to the paddocks beyond. “Hardly a chore.”

Bacon snorted and winced as he moved in his chair. “Drivin’ cattle ’til your body hurts, dust in places you shouldn’t ever have though possible, sleep-deprived, achin’ and sore.”

I grinned at him. “Yep. It’s pretty fucking perfect.”

Ma chided me for swearing. “Travis.”

Charlie smiled at me. “Too right.” He held up his drink and waited for everyone to do the same. “To the best job in the world.”

Everyone held up their glasses and spoke at once. “Cheers.”

* * * *

I think I was in bed by seven o’clock, but when I woke up, Charlie’s side of the bed was empty and cold. I reached over and grabbed my watch from the bedside table. It took my eyes a moment to adjust to the screen, but it was almost eleven p.m.

Knowing how tired Charlie was, I wondered why he hadn’t come to bed yet. He’d either fallen asleep on the sofa or maybe something was wrong with the cattle…

I threw back the covers and padded out to find him, when I heard two muffled voices coming from the back. Was he still outside? That was hours ago. I walked down the hall to the back door and realised he was talkin’ to Sam. They were sittin’ with their feet up near the still burnin’ pizza oven, no doubt having kept it lit for warmth. They were leanin’ back, content in each other’s company.

It made me smile.

I loved that he and his new-found brother were forging this relationship. It meant a lot to Charlie, and for that, I was thankful.

I didn’t mean to eavesdrop. I didn’t mean to spy, but I couldn’t help but stand behind the screen and watch them either.

“It’s a disadvantaged kids program,” Charlie said. “Some kids from the Alice who don’t have it so good.”

“You’re taking on
two
troubled teenagers?” Sam asked. “Willingly?”

Charlie snorted out a laugh. “They get here week after next. The muster’ll be done. It’s a quiet time of the year, so it seemed to fit.”

“You’re a sucker for punishment.”

Charlie smiled and looked at the fire in the oven for a long while. “Just giving a little back, ya know?”

Sam looked at him for a long moment.

Charlie just shrugged. “It’s just one week a year, maybe two. It’ll give some poor kids somethin’ to look forward to. Who knows, they might even learn something.”

“That’s really great, Charlie,” Sam said softly. “It’s… admirable. I’m sure there are plenty of people in your position who wouldn’t do anything like that.”

“There are a lot of people who do exactly nothing,” Charlie said. “And who knows, I’ll probably get two kids who try and steal stuff or trash somethin’. But it’s a start.”

Sam nodded. “It’s more than a start, Charlie.”

Neither of them spoke for a minute, then Sam said, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Your dad… I mean,
our
dad, I guess,” Sam said. “Was he okay?”

“What do you mean?”

Sam swallowed hard. “Well, I mean, was he… did you do okay?” He was obviously struggling to find the right words. “Growin’ up, living out here as a kid. Before… I mean, before he sent you away. Did he treat you okay before that?”

“He was okay,” Charlie said. I could see him smile in the light of the fire. “I had a great childhood, really. Ma and George looked after me real good. I got to ride horses, bikes, bulls, you name it. I’d chase frilled-neck lizards and rabbits all day long. I remember fallin’ asleep in my dinner more times than I could count.”

I smiled as I pictured a small Charlie doing exactly that.

“It was a simple childhood,” Charlie said. “But sometimes they’re the best.”

Sam gave his brother a smile. “You know, every time you talk of your childhood, you never mention your dad.”

Charlie was quiet for a while, and then he shrugged. “He was always busy. And that was okay, he was always around doing somethin’ or other, but I spent most of my time with Ma and George or by myself.”

“I wish I’d known,” Sam said quietly.

“Me too.”

“But I’m glad I know now. Even though I’m sore as hell and ache in places I didn’t know I could ache, I’m real glad I came.”

Charlie smiled at that. “I’m glad you were here too.”

I figured that was a good time to make my presence known, and pushed out the door.

“Oh, hey,” Charlie said. “What’s up?”

I pulled my chair over to his and fell into it. “Woke up and wondered where you were.”