Storms Over Blackpeak (22 page)

‘Leave those,’ Carr ordered, as she added the plates to the sink. ‘Ash and I will do them.’

‘Let me help,’ she insisted. ‘It’s something I can do. I haven’t done anything else today.’ Well, apart from six hours in her office and her daily inspection of the vines. But Lizzie had a feeling that compared to what Carr and Ash had been doing since first light, that didn’t stack up very well.

The kitchen door opened. Wiping snow from his eyelashes, Ash put down the lantern and picked up a tea towel.

‘I think I’ll turn in,’ he said, as soon as the dishes were done. It was about the third sentence they’d got out of him since Luke had rung.

‘Goodnight,’ Lizzie said gently. Watching him hang his tea towel up, she wondered how inappropriate it would be to give him a hug. Wildly, she decided. However badly in need of one he might seem.

‘See you in the morning,’ Carr said. It had the air of a drill sergeant’s instruction.

With a nod, Ash took his lamp and disappeared into the darkness of the hallway.

Opening the firebox, Carr inspected the range. ‘You want another drink?’ he asked, his profile lit by the glow of the logs.

Lizzie studied his face. He had to be tired, surely, however little he showed it. ‘Why don’t we head up, too?’ she suggested tactfully.

‘You sure you don’t mind?’

She shook her head.

‘Thanks.’ Looking relieved, Carr wedged two huge chunks of wood into the firebox and damped down the range. ‘Tomorrow could be a long day.’

Upstairs in the bedroom, Lizzie shivered. Without the column heaters, the room was — well, nowhere near freezing, she supposed, but starting to head that way. Armed with a couple of lamps, she took herself off to the bathroom, where the under-tile heating was still giving off some warmth. When she came out, Carr had lit the fire.

‘You know, this house of yours just gets better and better,’ she told him, settling down on the bed to admire the flames.

Dusting his hands on his jeans, Carr walked over to her, his dark eyes gleaming in the firelight. ‘I’m glad it’s growing on you,’ he said, gazing down at her. Well, he certainly didn’t look tired now. ‘Lizzie … I … There’s something I … something I want …’

She knew the feeling. ‘What is it?’ she asked with mock innocence, watching his face as she began to unbutton his jeans.

She turned her cheek to his palm as it cradled her jaw, his fingers splaying as they pushed into her hair.

‘Lizzie,’ he growled. ‘I want you to—’

The overhead lights blazed on. Lizzie winced, blinking in
the cold electric glare. They both looked up at the ceiling, waiting to see if the power held.

‘I’d better go switch the generator off,’ Carr sighed, as the lights continued to shine steadily.

With a sigh of her own, Lizzie let go of his jeans and turned the bedside lights on. As the door closed behind him, she put out the oil lamps, turned off the overheads, undressed and slipped into bed, wincing again at the chill of the sheets. Beyond the thick velvet curtains, the wind roared in the trees like an angry sea. Watching the firelight flicker over the walls, she pulled the duvet up around her and settled down to wait for Carr.

Waking who knew how much later in near darkness, she rolled over, reaching for him. The bed was empty.

‘Morning.’

Morning? Dammit. Rolling the other way, Lizzie saw Carr, a lamp lit beside him, remaking the fire.

‘Power’s out again,’ he said, glancing back at her. As the kindling flamed into life, he pulled the guard over the fireplace. ‘Sorry I woke you.’

‘No,’ she said sleepily. ‘You should. Are you heading out now? I’ll come with you.’

‘You don’t have to do that.’

‘I want to.’ Lizzie sat up, her resolve wavering only briefly as the cold air hit her skin. ‘Unless’ — she looked at him — ‘I’ll be in the way?’

‘No.’ His voice was gruff as he passed her the robe from the hook on the door. ‘You won’t be in the way.’

Downstairs, the smell of coffee drifted from the kitchen. Ash had the range cranked up and, a half-eaten slice of toast in one hand, was stirring porridge with the other.

‘Just coffee for me,’ Lizzie protested, as he doled out three bowls.

‘Have something warm,’ Carr ordered. ‘We might be a while.’

Accepting her porridge obediently, she looked out through the kitchen window as she ate. It was still too dark to really tell what was out there.

Fifteen minutes later, below a sky just beginning to blue, the three of them stepped off the porch into a foot of snow. Having slithered down to the tractor shed and loaded up, Carr and Lizzie headed for the flats of the higher north block, leaving Ash to feed out to the valley. By the time they reached the gate, it was light enough to turn off the tractor’s headlights. On the slope, the snow had settled less deeply, and the sheep trotted out of the shelterbelts easily enough at the sight of the feed. There did seem to be fewer takers for breakfast than usual, though.

Halting the tractor, Carr stuck his head out of the open window, his binoculars scanning the hill.

‘What are you looking for?’ Lizzie asked, peering past him.

‘The rest of them,’ he said wryly.

Lizzie could see nothing but virgin snow — an icily majestic sight. The day breaking slowly over the hills was clear, and the tips of the western peaks were reflecting the first thick gold rays of the rising run.

‘Shit,’ Carr swore. ‘You fucking bastard.’

‘What is it?’

‘Part of the shelterbelt’s come down and taken out the top fence. Mob must have walked right through it.’

‘They went up there?’ Lizzie eyed the snow-laden crags rising into the sky. It was probably a good time for her to stay quiet, but— ‘Why?’

Lowering his binoculars, Carr rubbed a hand over his unshaven jaw. ‘Merino logic,’ he said. ‘They spent all
summer following the new grass up the hill. They figure it’s still up there.’

‘So, what do we do?’

He sighed heavily. ‘We go and find them.’

Through the side window of the helicopter, Lizzie scrutinised the country passing slowly under their skids, her eyes peeled for — what, exactly? A few blobs of ivory on snow-white? That she had been assigned the seat behind Carr, covering territory his own hawk-eyes had already scanned, wasn’t lost on her. But still, he also had to concentrate on the controls, and she felt the weight of her own responsibility to spot any fleeting sign there might be of sheep below. There was wool at stake. Next season’s lambs, too. She’d like to be at least as much use as the dogs she was sitting beside.

‘So, any tips for young players?’ she asked, not taking her eyes off the snow.

‘Imagine you’re a sheep,’ Carr’s dry voice came back through her headset. ‘And think about where you’d be.’

‘Ten o’clock,’ Ash said suddenly, a kilometre or two up the valley from the top fence. ‘Under the bluffs.’

Carr nosed the chopper around. ‘What do you see?’’

‘I’m not sure,’ Ash admitted, sounding embarrassed. ‘Something, maybe.’

For her part, all Lizzie could see at the base of the rocks was an undulating basin of unbroken snow, a mogul field glittering under fresh powder. Carr brought the chopper lower, powder scattering under the rotor blades. What the hell were they still looking at? she wondered, as they continued to descend.

‘There,’ said Ash urgently, when they were little more than a metre above the snow.

Lizzie couldn’t help a small yelp of excitement as first one woolly nose, then another, was swept clean of snow by the wash of the blades.

‘They’re under there? What, all of them?’

‘Let’s hope so,’ Carr said, putting some height back between them and the now feebly struggling sheep. ‘Or it really is going to be a long day.’

‘How long can they survive like that?’

‘A week. Maybe two.’

‘Really?’ Lizzie stared at the snowbound mob.

‘They stay in that long, they’re not good for much when they come out, though.’

‘You might as well put me down here,’ Ash’s voice broke in. ‘I’ll make a start from this end.’

This end of what? And where was the other? Lizzie wondered, as the chopper moved off, leaving Ash wading up to his thighs in soft snow.

Two hours of trampling snow later, she was starting to understand how Carr and Ash managed to look like they did without ever having seen the inside of a gym. She must have burned off a cheesecake by now. Catching herself wishing she’d brought her phone, Lizzie shook her head. Snow-raking probably wasn’t going to be listed on her exercise app.

A couple of metres ahead, Carr looked over his shoulder at her. ‘You okay?’

‘Fine,’ she lied, breathing hard.

‘Why don’t you take a break?’

Lizzie glanced back at the narrow track they’d stomped out. Away to its side, she could see the dogs asleep in the back of the chopper. ‘Are you taking a break?’

An expression of surprise crossed his face. ‘I’ll never get started again,’ he told her, diplomatically.

‘Come on, then.’ Catching up with Carr, Lizzie leaned briefly against his back. ‘Let’s keep moving.’

In another hour, it was done. At Ash’s whistle, the dogs flew across the snow, disdaining the hard-won track to come around behind the mob as the humans began to scrape the sheep free. With a little persuasion, the sheep set out down their escape route. In less than a minute the mob was back in shallow snow and spreading out to scrape for tussock.

‘Bring them down,’ Carr told Ash.

One hand to the small of his back, Ash nodded.

Back at the homestead, Lizzie opened the door of the Hilux with a difficulty that, for once, wasn’t due to its handle. God, did she have enough strength left in her legs to get out?

Carr’s hand slid over her knee. ‘I’ll be back in a couple of hours,’ he said.

She stared at him. ‘Where are you going?’

‘To fix the fence.’

Staggering out of the cab, she watched him drive away. She wasn’t sure she had the energy to fix a cup of tea, never mind a fence. Inside, she flicked a light switch experimentally. Nope, the power was still out. She’d better stoke up the range.

As promised, two hours later, Carr walked into the kitchen, Ash at his heels. Contrary to her fears, by that time Lizzie had found the willpower to boil the kettle
and
make a bacon-and-egg pie. Hard as it was to believe after the morning they’d had, it still wasn’t much past lunch time.

She’d just got the pie out of the range’s warming drawer and onto the table when the phone rang. Carr eased himself to his feet.

‘Charlie.’ Across the kitchen, he and Ash exchanged a glance. ‘You okay over there?’

Ash waited, a slab of pie halfway to his mouth.

‘Sure.’ Carr checked the clock. ‘I’ll be there in an hour.’

Ash grimaced.

‘She reckons they’re down three hundred head,’ Carr told him, hanging up the phone. ‘They want me to fly over and take a look around.’

‘I’ll come with you.’ Ash bolted his pie.

‘What can I do?’ Lizzie asked, with more courage than she felt.

‘Stay here and man the phone,’ Carr instructed. If she’d had the energy, she would have laughed at how essential he managed to make the task sound. ‘You can drive down and get Cally when she calls.’

God, she’d forgotten all about Luke and Cally. If the road had reopened this morning, they shouldn’t be far away.

‘We’d better get going,’ Carr told Ash. ‘I don’t want to be flying out of there in the dark.’

‘Here.’ Quickly, Lizzie quartered the remains of the pie and bagged it. ‘Take this with you.’

‘Lizzie, I’m sorry.’ For a second, Carr’s eyes bored into hers. ‘Will you be okay?’

‘Of course I will.’

He hesitated. ‘You want me to put the chains on your car? You might need them to get back up the hill.’

‘No, you go.’ Lizzie smothered an inward sigh. ‘I can do it.’

On her knees in the softening snow of the driveway, she listened to Carr and Ash take off. As they cleared the trees, she looked up from the Land Rover’s front wheel to watch the helicopter swing away towards Black Peak, its shape soon lost on the white hills.

When she walked back into the kitchen, the phone was already ringing. Luke and Cally were waiting at the café.

‘Sorry,’ Luke said, sounding none the worse for the
night’s adventure. ‘We tried to call from Omarama, but your answerphone wasn’t working.’

‘The power’s out,’ Lizzie explained. ‘We’re down to the analogue phone. I’ll leave right now. Can Cally hold tight there for a bit?’

Thank God the café was open, at least. Given that it was over an hour’s drive from Glencairn, she was going to have to wait a while.

‘I’ll wait with Cally until you get here,’ Luke said.

Oh, that was kind. And also a much safer plan, given that the café might decide to close its doors at any moment.

‘It turns out I’m not in any hurry,’ he added, with an irony Lizzie didn’t have time to investigate.

‘I’ll be there as soon as I can,’ she told him.

Heading down the access road, she was glad she had heeded Carr’s advice. Thanks to the afternoon sun, the thick, untouched snow had turned as slippery as hell. Chains or no chains, she’d better make sure she got back before it refroze.

A low wall of churned-up snow lay across the intersection with the highway. Apparently she was the first person to have turned into or out of the Glencairn Road today. Hmm. Now why would that be? Lizzie wondered, smiling. She could see why Luke hadn’t been game to give it a go. Some of the chunks the snowplough’s blade had left across the road were almost as high as the Aston. Slowly but firmly, the Land Rover shoved a way through, and she turned out onto the cleared and gritted main road.

Pulling into the café’s carpark, Lizzie could see Luke and Cally sitting at a table outside, Luke in his Armani jacket and aviator shades, Cally hunkered into her oilskin, its collar turned up. Had there been anyone else there to see them, they would have appeared a rather strange couple. They
did seem to be getting along well, though. Walking towards them, Lizzie heard Luke laugh. Cally, eating chips off his plate, laughed too. Perhaps the world would be a better place if everyone were forced to spend a night in a dodgy motel together.