Authors: Unknown
‘I’d rather have horses than trucks and jeeps and motorbikes. There’s no romance in ...’
‘Don’t you dare say that,’ Tay interrupted. ‘Wait till you’ve been here a while and you’ll find romance in watching a dozer inching its way up a mountainside, punching in roads where no roads went before, in trucks carrying men to the distant blocks at the back of the station, in bringing them home to their own beds each night instead of camping out for weeks at a time, in planes swooping in to topdress and spread fertiliser, and helicopters lifting and loading materials on these high country runs in a matter of minutes, saving men days of backbreaking toil and sweat. Oh, yes, Katriona, there’s still romance here even if the horse has gone, new ideas, progress and expansion on a scale only dreamed of in previous years. The potential is unlimited on Evangeline.’
‘Do Morgan and my father feel the same way as you do, Tay?’ Katriona felt caught up in the enthusiasm in his voice.
Tay laughed. 'If you multiply what I feel by a thousand you might get close to what those two feel. High country stations demand their own kind of loyalty from the people who work on them. The life can be hard and rough and lonely, yet men put in ten or twenty years on the one station, loving it as if it was their own. I read the other day of an old man who worked his life out on one place and his wages would have been a
mere pittance, but he saved what he could and when he died he left it to the station owner. That would be carrying it to an extreme, but to me it epitomises the loyalty the old-timers felt for their station, and in spite of the life being less isolated and rugged today, it’s still there to a lesser degree. Lecture over—sorry if I bored you.’
Katriona’s blue eyes were shining as she listened avidly. This was what she wanted to learn. ‘Please go on, Tay. I’m not bored. Oh, how could you suggest such a thing!’
‘You’ll have to ask Morgan the rest, we’re nearly back at the yards. Ah, look at those blighters, every time they nip off up there in that gut, and it takes a devil of a time to get them back with the dogs.’
Katriona sat fascinated as he worked and whistled his dogs, with infinite patience moving the errant half dozen sheep slowly step by step until they turned and scampered and slid down the steep bank to rejoin the others. As they drew closer to the shed she tried to calm the whirlwind of emotions swirling through her heart and mind, the excitement and anticipation of her next encounter with Morgan, the joy and happiness of being here and the sadness at the thought of leaving.
As Tay let her down by the yards he reminded her, ‘You haven’t eaten yet. Go and get your breakfast.’
‘I’m not hungry,’ Katriona replied.
‘Tut-tut, that’s a really bad sign. One of the worst,’ he shook his head warningly at her, his meaning unmistakable.
‘Blood and sand! I should have known never to trust a man!’ Katriona stormed off towards the homestead, Tay’s laughter following her down the road.
She kicked a stone and hurt her toe, then the humour of it struck her, and she swung around and waved at Tay. Her merry laughter rang out to join his. ‘Thank you for taking me. I loved it. I love you.’
He waved and she knew he understood. As she turned back she realised Morgan was standing at the fence near her and he was scowling.
‘Quite a lad, our Tay!’ he said sarcastically.
Isn’t he just?’ Katriona was bubbling over with happiness ‘He’s going to take me up to the tops.’
‘The hell he is! When I decide you can go up the tops I’ll take you. Is that understood?’
‘Yes, all ... all right,’ Katriona was bewildered by his anger, her long dark eyelashes fluttered nervously. I'll tell Tay I’m not allowed to go with him.’
‘You won’t, I will.’ Morgan yelled at her as he stepped over the yard fence and moved in a direct line to where Tay was putting the sheep through the gate.
Katriona watched them from a
distance, hesitating as to whether to go back and protest at Morgan’s rudeness. Why was he so upset? Tay was only being kind to her. Yet Tay had said that he had a gut feeling that Morgan would object. Perhaps only die manager was supposed to take you up the tops, and Tay knew that he would be usurping Morgan’s prerogative if he took Katriona. Satisfied that she had the answer, she turned once more for the house.
She paused for a moment at the white wrought-iron gate under the shade of the silver birch tree, listening to its leaves rustling in the light breeze, trying to see if it made the same impression on her as it had yesterday afternoon. And it did. She felt again that acute pain as she gazed at the white walls and the roses, the neat concrete paths and green lawns, the riot of colour from the wall of flowers behind the shed, the cool fountain and the purple shadowed hill. All this could have been hers. She could have grown up here, warm, secure and loved. The thought burned her.
Then she thought of Ena McIlroy, who had loved her and cared enough for her to break a promise, and the pain edged away. Suddenly Ena seemed very close to her, Ena’s lovely old face full of loving and kindness, her eyes clear and serene, her snow-white hair neatly caught at the nape of her neck. Ena had, by breaking her promise, given Katriona a father and given her this month to learn and to love and to know this place. She had given her a background. Katriona closed her eyes for a second. ‘Thank you, God, for giving me a friend like Ena.’
As soon as she had said the words she knew how Ena had made the decision. Whenever the old lady had had a problem, either her own or someone else’s, she would tie on her scarf and walk to the kirk to ‘have a
wee talk with the Lord’. Katriona was sure that there had been many ‘wee talks’ before Ena had made her decision. And Ena’s other saying was, ‘If it’s well with the Lord it nae matters what other folk think.’
‘Katriona, come in and meet some friends,’ Mrs Niven was calling to her from the ranchslider doors.
It took Katriona a
moment to collect her thoughts and hurry forward. She felt positively scruffy in her overalls and shirt and her hair was ruffled and windblown, and she had no make-up to give her courage. What a mess to be introduced as Ross Carmichael’s daughter! Her small chin went up and she stepped lightly into the room ... after she had thought proudly, ‘I am his only daughter’.
There seemed to be a roomful of women and children. Mrs Niven touched Katriona lightly on the shoulder. ‘Katriona Carmichael, ladies, Ross’s daughter. I know you’ll all be as thrilled as I am to meet her and to have her staying here for a while.’
Katriona felt warmed by the style of the introduction. ‘Now, Katriona, you’ve been out and about this morning and may have already met some of these ladies’ husbands. I was telling them just now that you were so eager to look at the station that you’ve not yet had your breakfast. This is Mrs Price, our cook.’
Katriona shook hands with a tall, slender, fair-haired woman, and found herself smiling back as she met the warmth in the merry brown eyes.
‘Did you meet my Alan? He’s the head tractor driver.’ Katriona shook her head. ‘No, but I saw him drive out this morning.’ Mrs Price sat down and Katriona shook hands with the next person at the table, a
young attractive girl of about eighteen. I’m Penny, up here cooking for the contract fencers. You can’t have met my husband because I haven’t caught one yet.’
'Don’t get up, Nan,’ Mrs Niven spoke hastily to a young woman across the table holding a
bright-eyed little girl. ‘Katriona, meet Nanette Mason and her daughter Alita, just one year old last week.’
Katriona leaned across to shake hands and touched the baby Alita lightly on the cheek.
‘Watch out!’ cautioned Nanette. ‘She’s got eight teeth and can use them.’
‘Thanks for the warning, but she doesn’t look dangerous.’
‘She can be, very. You won’t have met my husband Murray because he’s driven the truck through to Christchurch and won’t be back till late this afternoon.’
‘Nanette and Murray board the schoolteacher,’ Mrs Niven explained.
Katriona had wanted to meet everyone who was on the station, but not all at once. This was becoming an ordeal and she would never remember all their names.
‘You must be positively wilting. Here’s a cup of coffee to sustain you. I’m ...’
‘Amber! ’ Katriona cried joyfully, knowing she could not be wrong. Amber had brilliant glowing green eyes, thick dark hair, cut short and shaped to her head like a helmet, dimples which came and went bewitchingly. She looked about eighteen, not old enough to have children.
‘You’ve met my husband Tay—the handsomest man on Evangeline?’
‘I have indeed, and he certainly is,’ Katriona agreed.
‘And the nicest man on the whole station,’ Amber prompted.
‘Oh, without doubt!’ Katriona agreed again with even more enthusiasm, and laughed delightedly.
Amber laughed with her. ‘Obviously you have exquisite taste, excellent judgment and are very astute. If Tay had a twin brother, I’d give him to you, but alas, he’s an only son.’
‘He would have to be identical in every way, before I would have accepted him, had he existed,’ Katriona told her solemnly.
‘Oh, of course. I could have offered you no less than what I have myself. But you will have dinner with us tonight?’
Mrs Niven interrupted, 'Perhaps Morgan may not...’
‘I’m not inviting Morgan, just Katriona.’ Amber’s eyes danced with devilment. ‘She can’t be stuck with Morgan every night. She must have some fun.’
‘I accept with gratitude,’ Katriona hastily assured her.
‘I somehow thought you might.’ Amber’s mobile features moved from an enchanting smile to intense concentration. ‘I did bring him with me, I’m sure.’
‘If you’re looking for Jordan he’s under the table,’ Nanette offered.
‘Thanks a million.’ Amber bent under the table and dragged out a little boy of about three years old. ‘Jordan, say hello to Katriona.’ Jordan gave Katriona a long silent unwavering stare, then disappeared back under the table. Amber shrugged her shoulders. ‘Win some, lose some.’ Katriona sat down and drank her coffee. It was delicious. ‘How many station men did you meet this morning?’ Nanette asked.
‘Just Morgan and Tay to speak to,’ Katriona admitted.
‘Poor you. Not a great deal of choice really. Wait till you meet my husband, Murray.’
Amber’s eyes glittered. ‘Poor man, he’ll fail to make any impression, I assure you, Katriona. Once you’ve met the best, everyone else is second class.’
‘Just what do you mean by that, Amber?’ Nanette demanded.
‘There’s the mail, girls,' Mrs Niven announced in what Katriona guessed were tones of heartfelt relief. ‘Come on, we’ll open the bag. Come along, Katriona, come and share some of our excitement. The mail and milk and groceries arrive three days a week and it’s always a thrill. The children come up from the school, and quite often the men are in. When you live in an isolated community, not going off the station for weeks, you really look forward to a change and news of the outside world. Watch the children’s faces light up when their name is called.’
‘Do they get mail regularly?’ Katriona asked in surprise as they followed the women down the path.
‘Usually. All their school work is done by correspondence, all written down and sent to Wellington each fortnight. They write to their teachers and the teachers write back to them and they’re really close. In fact I would say those teachers are closer to the outback children’s lives than their counterparts in the city schools who see their twenty or thirty children each day but never know them. They haven’t got the time, perhaps.’
Glancing back as she got to the gate, Katriona smiled to see Amber dragging Jordan out from under the table by one arm and a leg. She was certainly winning this one! Suddenly Jordan let go and he and Amber toppled over on the carpet in the sunshine, a bundle of arms, legs, and laughter. Katriona saw her scoop the little boy into her arms to hug and kiss him, and then bearing him aloft like some miniature weightlifter she ran through the gate Katriona held open for her.
Amber dropped Jordan to his feet and gasped, ‘I lose all the battles at adult level with Jordan, but when I get down to kid level, weight for age I win handsomely. Here’s my car, hop in and watch the proceedings ... no extra charge.’
Katriona sat down thankfully. There were so many people around that she could not face any more introductions. She did not want to lose the names she already had. Perhaps Amber had known that. Katriona closed her eyes, just for a moment.
‘Here’s Jordan.’ Amber opened the door and dumped him on Katriona’s knee. ‘I’ll run you up to my place so you’ll know where to find it tonight. It will only take a couple of minutes. Okay? Oh, here’s my daughter Tania and my son Eden. Meet Katriona, children. Now off you go in the truck with Dad.’
Katriona, half asleep, grabbed the small packet of dynamite named Jordan, then smiled at Tania, only having time to note the slender brown grace and the transparent honesty and trust in her eyes, the same mountain-clear look her father Tay had. Then her attention riveted on Eden, a strikingly handsome boy with grey eyes and thick dark hair ... he was the living image of Morgan. She felt a cold hand clutch her heart, and almost choked as the ugly thought touched her mind. She rejected it instantly and said quietly, ‘Lovely children, Amber. And I love their names.’
‘Yes, they are,’ Amber said softly. ‘Real chip off the old block, Eden, spitting image of his father.’
Katriona searched the liquid depths of those taunting green eyes, and knew that this was some sort of a test, and that she did not want to fail. She closed her eyes for a second before saying carefully, ‘He doesn’t look like Tay from where I sit.’
‘Are you stating a fact or asking a question?’ The green eyes flashed twin fires.
It was not going to be an easy test. Katriona sighed, ‘Both.’
‘You want an answer?’
'Yes,’ Katriona replied honestly.
'You wouldn’t like to hazard a guess?’ There was a challenge.
‘No. And I’m tired.’
‘He’s not Morgan’s child. His father was Eden, a cousin of Morgan’s. He was killed in a car accident three months after we were married. I came here to visit Morgan and met Tay, and we were married. Sorry to do that to you, but I had to know you as a person. Mostly I let people get on with their own vivid imaginings, but I wanted to be friends with you.’