FOLLOW THE MORNING STAR (35 page)

‘You tryin’ to be one of them Indian ladies that carries pots on her head?’

‘Dunno. Just thought I’d try it.’ She grinned at him, her big brown eyes laughing. She perched the basket comfortably on one hip and walked beside him. ‘So watcha bin doin’? How was Cricklewood?’

‘Things is good. Dingo’s gone over there to git them stolen bulls organised for Queenie so she can git back here to TR. I bin spendin’ a bit of time with Snowy.’

‘Oh.’ Ruthie knew he wasn’t going to give her any details. ‘And how’s your love life?’ She nudged him in the ribs.

‘Pretty good. I really fancy this fantastic little sheila I know.’

‘Is that so?’ said Ruthie sounding cross.

‘Yeah. In fact, she’s a bit like you.’

‘What! Who?’ demanded Ruthie, flaring up. Then, seeing Ernie’s teasing smile, she realised what he was saying and calmed down, but still flounced ahead of him. ‘You’re a real pain in the neck sometimes, Ernie.’

Still smiling at her, he watched her move away. Sometimes Ruthie acted like a grown woman but mostly she remained the laughter-loving girl he’d known all the years they’d both been at Tingulla. They were part of Tingulla’s loyal family and they shared this bond as well as their Aboriginal heritage.

He caught up with her and grabbed her round the waist. ‘Even if I do drive ya crazy sometimes, d’ya reckon you could put up with me, but?’

‘I’m glad I don’ hafta put up with
you.’
She pulled a face at him. ‘You go off with Snowy. I got work to do.’

Ernie looked serious. ‘No, ridgy didge, Ruthie. I bin thinkin’, you know, mebbe we should, you know . . . ’

‘Should what, Ernie?’

He looked down at his dusty riding boots,
his usual confidence deserting him. ‘Get hitched. You know what I mean, Ruthie. Whaddya say?’

Her arms dropped to her sides, the washing basket falling on her feet as she looked down, quite overcome with shyness. ‘Git married like?’ She looked up at him defiantly. ‘I ain’t gonna move in with you. I’m a good girl. And anyway, Millie’d kill me.’

‘All right, all right. We’ll git married. However you want it. Jeez, Ruthie, we’ve known each other long enough. Who else would I pick?’

‘Well I jist might’ve picked out someone else, y’know.’ She gave him a flirtatious look and Ernie grabbed her and kissed her full on the mouth.

‘You’d better not, or I’ll get the kadaicha man after ’em. Off you go and tell Millie and Jim the good news.’ He slapped her on the bottom and turned away, whistling happily.

The morning smoko break turned into a celebration as news of Ernie and Ruthie’s engagement spread. TR raised his tea cup. ‘Here’s a toast to you, Ruthie. Congratulations! Now, who’s going to give the bride away?’

‘I’ll give her away if she doesn’t shape up,’ laughed Ernie.

‘No, that’s the job of the father of the family,’ explained Jenni.

‘I ain’t got no family. Tingulla’s bin my home and youse are my family,’ said Ruthie, emotion welling in her voice.

She turned to Snowy who was sitting on the
top step of the verandah, his hat perched on his knee, a wide smile on his face. ‘Snowy, would you do it? You is the father of Tingulla.’ She spoke quietly, voicing the respect and love they all felt for the old man.

‘Course I will, Ruthie. If someone tells me what t’do.’

Millie brushed a tear from her eye and reached for the tea pot. ‘My, my, we’ll certainly have some news to tell Queenie when she gets back from Cricklewood.’

Jenni and TR exchanged a swift glance. TR put down his cup. ‘Well, we have to get back to work. I’m ready for whatever torture you have lined up today, Jenni. I feel like taking on the world.’ He grinned at her.

‘When are you gonna burn them sticks of yours, TR?’ asked Jim.

‘Sooner than you might think, Jim. Suddenly I’m thinking I’m ready to tackle Mount Everest.’

The enthusiasm in his voice and the sparkle in his eye made Millie’s heart do a sudden flip. She threw Snowy a swift grateful look, then turned back to the tea things. ‘Righto, smoko’s over. Everybody back to work. Even the bride to be.’

Tingulla was bathed in the lazy afternoon light and all was quiet and peaceful. Millie knotted the ribbons of her worn sunhat under her chin and headed for the bottom vegetable patch to find a gramma suitable for making into a pie and to do a bit of weeding, more for the pleasure of being in the garden than out of necessity.

Ruthie was in the laundry starching and ironing, lost in visions of the bridal dresses she’d seen in magazines and shop windows. She knew her wedding to Ernie would be a simple and plain affair, but a girl could dream after all.

As Queenie drove the LandCruiser towards Tingulla, the thought of seeing TR again gave her a feeling of warmth and joy. Knowing he was at Tingulla made her world right again. Although they hadn’t often been apart over the years, both were aware of the importance of respecting each other’s space and freedom. But whether they were working separately about the property and unable to see each other from dawn to dusk, or they were many miles apart, they looked forward to seeing one another again with a longing that never waned. This past separation between them had been harder because Queenie knew TR hadn’t been thinking of her, or if he had, it was with no previous knowledge of the love that they’d shared. However, knowing he would be there, waiting for her, and once again in his rightful place, gave her hope that his recuperation would be complete and all would be as it was.

Arriving at Tingulla, Queenie drove immediately around to the stables. She let Honey out of the float, stretched and pulled her hat from her head, lifting her thick curtain of hair from the nape of her neck. Taking off her sunglasses, she walked around the side garden towards the verandah, wondering if TR was sleeping.

She could hear sweet music floating from
inside the house. Quietly she walked along the polished wood verandah to the French doors of the games room. The music was an old-fashioned love song in a waltz beat. Queenie stopped and closed her eyes for a moment, suddenly swept back in time to the woolshed dance the night of her twenty-first birthday. The night TR had led her away from the crowded dance floor into the moonlight to claim his birthday dance with her. She remembered the feel of his tweed jacket, the sweet smell of his skin and hair — like fresh hay — and the way her body had trembled with the touch of his arms about her. Thinking now of the partially crippled and bitter man he seemed to have become, her heart twisted.

Queenie stepped through the French doors into the games room. The furniture had been pushed aside and sunlight flooded through the opposite windows, illuminating a scene which struck her still and cold: TR with his arms wrapped around Jenni as they danced slowly in time to the music.

Queenie gasped and turned away, the one-two-three beat of the waltz hammering in her ears and stabbing at her heart.

Millie straightened up in the garden and picked up the gramma and headed back to the house. But she stopped when she saw the dark shape of Star dashing from the stables. There was no mistaking the figure of Queenie, her hair flying, as the horse galloped towards the creek. Millie hurried indoors. Queenie was home but something was very wrong.

TR was sitting alone in the kitchen as Millie came rushing through the door. ‘What’s going on, TR? I just saw Queenie going hell for leather to the hill on that mad horse of yours.’

‘She’s back. Walked in on our exercise session and took off before we could explain.’

‘Explain what?’ demanded Millie, dropping the giant gramma on the table with a thud.

‘I was trying to dance. It’s part of Jenni’s coordination exercises.’

‘Dancing? Holdin’ each other slow dancin’?’

“Fraid so. I suppose she jumped to the wrong conclusion. Jenni tried to stop her, but she took off somewhere.’

Millie yanked her hat from her head. ‘She’s out on Star, prob’ly cryin’ her eyes out. Let’s hope she doesn’t crash the horse,’ said Millie furiously. ’How could you two do somethin’ so stupid?’

‘Fair go, Millie. Jenni says she does this with all her patients.’

‘I bet,’ sniffed Millie.

‘Now just a minute, Millie, you’re being unfair to Jenni . . . ’

Millie shook her finger at TR. ‘And you’re hurtin’ Queenie, TR, and you will never forgive yourself when you come to your senses and realise what you’re doin’.’

TR stood up, awkwardly pushing back his chair and reaching for his crutches, his face flushed and angry. ‘I’m sick of people talking to me about this great love between Queenie and me. It means nothing to me. I don’t remember anything about it. What am I supposed to do?
I don’t know her!’

‘Get to know her!’ shouted Millie.

They glared at each other for a moment then Millie rubbed her hand across her eyes. ‘I know it must be hard for you, TR, but it’s harder for Queenie and it breaks my heart, seein’ you two like this.’

‘I don’t know what to do, Millie. I just don’t know. Everyone expects too much,’ said TR in a sad tired voice as he limped from the room.

‘Everyone except Miss Jenni I s’pose,’ said Millie under her breath.

Queenie finally rode back to the stables, drained and exhausted. She dismounted and unsaddled Star, turned back to the tack room and saw TR sitting by the door, his crutches leaning against the wall. Spike resting his head against his master’s leg. TR was absently fondling the dog’s ears as he looked up at Queenie.

‘G’day. How was your ride?’ His voice was warm but hesitant.

‘All right. Star enjoyed it.’ Queenie walked past him to hang up the saddle and saddle blanket.

As she came back outside with the currycomb, TR caught her arm. ‘Take a pew for a minute.’ He indicated the hay bale beside him. Queenie sat reluctantly, avoiding looking at him.

‘Glad to hear you found the bulls. How did you manage that?’ asked TR.

‘A couple of lucky breaks, I guess. I met a swaggie . . . ’

‘That’d be Chipper. Dingo and Ernie said he was working over at Cricklewood.’

For a brief moment Queenie relaxed and almost forgot the estrangement between her and TR; but then, as she looked into the dazzling blue of his eyes and saw the blank shadows in their depths, she knew he was merely being polite. ‘Look, TR, are we going to sit here and make small talk or . . . ’

‘Or talk about what’s really bothering you? Queenie, you had no reason to go flying off like that. It wasn’t what it looked . . . Jenni has been using dancing as part of her therapy for years.’

‘You looked pretty happy waltzing around in there.’

TR tried not to smile at Queenie’s petulant response. ‘I am feeling pretty good about things actually. I suddenly feel more . . . positive. I’m anxious to get going on my legs and I just know everything else is going to fall into place too.’

‘Has there been any improvement? Have you remembered anything?’ asked Queenie.

TR shook his head. ‘No. But I don’t feel so depressed about things. I’ll have to learn to deal with my situation as best I can.’

‘I knew bringing you back to Tingulla would help,’ said Queenie, feeling her anger and hurt begin to subside.

‘Yes, but it’s not only Tingulla. It’s been the help of someone special . . . ’ TR was thinking of Snowy and the ceremonial singing, but Queenie jumped to her feet.

‘Yes, let’s not forget to give credit to the amazing dancing Jenni. I’m glad you’re feeling happy and progressing so well. I have to go and
shower and change. I haven’t even said hello to Millie yet,’ said Queenie, storming off.

‘It was your idea to bring Jenni out here,’ he called after her, but Queenie didn’t turn around as she headed to the house.

Once on the front verandah, she took long deep breaths trying to calm herself. Then, mustering all her self-control, she marched in the front door, calling out loudly, ‘Hello, I’m back!’

Jenni came hurrying down the hall from the music room, Millie emerged from the kitchen and Ruthie hung over the upstairs bannister.

‘Queenie, I hope you don’t think there was anything . . . ’ began Jenni, but Queenie cut her off with a bright smile.

‘I’ve been talking to TR and I’m so happy he’s doing so well, that’s marvellous, Jenni.’ She brushed past her to give Millie a hug. ‘So how about my luck in getting our stock back, eh, Millie?’

‘Luck had little to do with it, my girl. You come along and tell me all about it.’ Millie led her firmly away and Jenni was left standing in the vestibule. She looked up at the beaming Ruthie, smiled briefly and went back to straightening the furniture in the music room.

Alone in the kitchen Millie turned to Queenie. ‘Now what’s going on?’

‘You tell me, Millie. I walked in on a cosy little scene with Jenni and TR. Maybe I just overreacted, I don’t know. I’m bushed, I want a bath, a hot meal and a sleep, and then I’m going to get up and start today all over again. So, how has TR been? Is Jenni really helping him?’

Millie wasn’t fooled by Queenie’s artificially
bright manner. ‘Yeah, she’s been getting him goin’ pretty good. But you know how down he was, he wasn’t trying to help himself, so depressed and . . . what’s the word? Wanted to chuck it all in?’

‘Unmotivated.’

‘That’s it. Well, I was pretty worried so I talked to Snowy, and the men took him out and sang him. I reckon it’s changed his outlook. Course, Jenni don’t know about it. Only Dingo and Ernie and Jim. Snow’s bin spendin’ a lot of time with Ernie, showing him the old ways. Passin’ on the learnin’.’