Hope's Road (29 page)

Chapter 48

‘Joe McCauley! What are you doing stuck in that muck?'

One scarlet gumboot landed beside Joe's nose. Followed by another.

‘Don't you have better things to do than wallow around in mud like some common thug?'

He'd known only one person in the district who talked like that. But he couldn't work out why the hell
she'd
be on his hill, so he figured he must be in purgatory with Boots. It was just his luck she'd be there too.

‘What are you and Boots doing down here in the rain?' said another voice, male this time. A young voice.

This person he
did
want to talk to. Joe opened his eyes and swiped at them to clear mud from his vision. He didn't know how long he'd been lying there cuddling the body of his dog.

‘Randal? Randal! Get out of the car this instant and help Mr McCauley,' came the woman's voice again. The boot disappeared. There was the sound of a car door being opened and shut. Joe snuck another look. This time he saw a late 1960s white Chrysler Valiant complete with chrome and bright silver trim sitting in the driveway on the side of his hill. How in the hell did that get here with all the water lying on the roads? Fly?

More footfalls came sloshing through the mud. Joe shut his eyes, then opened them as the steps stopped in front of him. A long pale face, studs poking from an eyebrow, a nose and chin, came floating into view. The youth's cheeks were stacked with white-topped mountains of adolescent acne. A bony hand with black-painted fingernails came towards him.

Who the fuck? Joe scuttled backwards.

‘Settle, petal,' came the woman's voice again. ‘Randal might look scary, but deep down he's a fairy.'

‘Hey, Mrs P, I'm not a poofter!' Joe assumed this protest came from Randal. The kid's voice was slightly high-pitched, as if he wasn't sure whether to be a boy or a man, but it confirmed the identity of the woman. Oh hell.

Determined not to let Mr Metal Face touch him again, Joe muttered, ‘I'm fine.' He tried to sit up but found he was frozen into a crouch.

‘Here, Mr McCauley, I'll help you up.' The small figure of Billy Hunter made to move towards Joe and haul him off the ground.

Beatrice Parker beat him to it. ‘Billy, stop. Randal, go get the man up.'

Joe scuttled backwards again. No way he was letting that gothic-looking creature near him and his dog.

‘Oh, for heaven's sake,' said Beatrice, losing patience as Randal hovered unsure. She took Joe by one hand, indicating Billy should take the other, and they heaved together. ‘One, two, three –
hup
!'

Beatrice would have ended up down in the slush and mud too but for an agile Randal, who grabbed her as she overbalanced. ‘Mrs P!' shouted the teenager. ‘You said you'd give me a hundred bucks to get you here. You won't give over if you're in hospital.'

Beatrice made a little moue with her mouth. ‘Surprisingly, Randal, there's more to life than money. I'll just get you a prop, Mr McCauley.' She stomped her walking stick across to the verandah, and tottered up the steps to retrieve an old willow cane leaning against the wall.

In the meantime, Billy was peering at the dog. ‘What's wrong with Boots? He sick or something?'

The old man looked down at his beloved mate, lying so still.

‘Mr McCauley? What's wrong with Boots?'

‘Argh . . . Billy, mate.' Joe swallowed hard. Tried to work out how to put it out there nice and soft, palatable enough for a kid to understand. He couldn't. It hurt too much.

‘He's dead.'

The words hung in the air. Three sets of eyes stared at the dog, who was by now a sodden black and white lump.

‘His old heart must have just stopped,' said Joe. ‘He didn't want to be here any more.'

‘Not him too?' said Billy, choking back the tears.

Joe was too immersed in his own grief to pick up on Billy's words. But Beatrice Parker wasn't. She hobbled back to them and handed Joe the makeshift walking stick, before turning to Billy. ‘Now young man, we went through all that on the drive over. You know your mother wasn't in a position to take you with her.'

‘She didn't
want
to take me with her,' spluttered Billy. ‘She didn't want me at
all
.' The child burst into tears and ran up the stairs into Joe's house. The screen door banged so hard it fell off its hinges, falling to the verandah with a loud
splat
.

The noise jolted Joe out of his morbid state and he looked across at Beatrice. ‘Where'd you find him? His father's beside himself with worry.'

Randal started to laugh. ‘At the Lake Grace Nursing Home. Bit young to be in there.'

A hard glance from Beatrice quelled the laughter. ‘Guess I'll go wait in the car,' he muttered, before slouching off.

They both watched as the teenager got back into the classic vehicle on the driver's side. For the first time Joe noticed the Learner plates clipped to the front windscreen.

‘A bit desperate for a ride, were you?' he said to Beatrice. Her blackcurrant eyes pinned him to the ground with their disapproval. The woman hadn't changed. Those eyes were killers. He coughed, spluttered a bit. Decided the best form of defence was retreat. ‘Yes, well, thanks for bringing the boy home. His father'll be pleased.' He paused, realising he hadn't the slightest idea where Hunter was. He'd missed an hour or so lying there in the mud. ‘You haven't seen the man, by any chance, have you?'

Beatrice now peered at him like he was slightly deranged. ‘If I had, Joe McCauley, I'd hardly be bringing that boy to
you
.' Her expression told him more than any words what she thought of him. ‘I didn't want to leave the child on his own and his father isn't at home.'

Joe could feel his hackles rising. How dare the woman make such judgements?! Okay, he was a bit different. Okay,
a lot
different, but that didn't mean he wasn't able to be responsible. He automatically dropped a hand to his side, expecting to feel a wet muzzle nudge his fingers. The sadness he felt steal through his body when it didn't was overwhelming.

Beatrice went on, ‘In fact I thought you're the last person in the valley a child would want, the way you go on. But he said to come here, even though I thought it very wrong.'

Joe felt a tiny suffusion of warmth in his heart. Billy wanted him. After not finding his father, he had wanted to come home to Joe. Now wasn't that something?

‘Billy's me mate,' said Joe, feeling himself gain strength. He stood up a little straighter, using the stick as a prop. ‘He's like my family.' He suddenly realised the truth in those four little words. ‘Yep, he's like family, so my bloody oath he can come home to me.'

Beatrice stared at him in shock. Moments sped past. It seemed like she was trying to work out the truth of his statement. He stood and weathered her appraisal.

Then all of a sudden her face softened and she broke into laughter. A rumbling kind of sound that came from the very depths of her belly. He hadn't thought a full-throated noise could possible come from such a dainty person. But then he'd forgotten her family were bushmen. People who'd loved humour and used it to withstand the stark and rough surroundings in which they existed.

‘What you laughing at, woman?' he said, scratching his head. Beatrice now had tears running down her cheeks. What the hell? What was so funny?

‘I'm . . . laughing at . . . you,' she eventually spluttered. ‘Joe McCauley, I think you might have found it at last.'

Found it? What was she talking about?

‘You didn't want anyone after Mae Rouget. Not another girl, not your family. You buried yourself in the bush. Then along came your saint of a wife.' Beatrice paused to make the sign of the cross, then went on. ‘You became
almost
normal after you married her. Then she died and away you went again, out of your tree.'

Joe clamped his lips shut. He didn't go out of his tree! He just didn't want no bastard comin' around annoyin' him, that was all. All them do-gooders and stuff, they'd do a man's head in.

‘And now you have a boy who thinks the world of you and finally you've reconciled with Tammy' – Joe frowned at the mention of that bloody strumpet but Beatrice sailed on regardless. ‘It might have taken you ninety-odd years, but you've worked it out, Joe McCauley. Finally you have a family.'

‘Some bloody family . . .' Joe started to rant. ‘That bloody Tammy –'

‘Don't you that bloody Tammy me!' said Beatrice, laughter changing to anger in nanoseconds. ‘That girl looked after you when you were crook. She didn't have to because, God knows, you haven't ever given her cause to want to. But she did. You mightn't be able to see it because you're a stubborn, pig-headed old mule, but that girl loves you. And what's more, just at this moment, she needs family as much as you.'

‘I don't need no bloody family. She's selling my farm.'

‘What, this place?'

‘No. Montmorency Downs.'

‘It's hardly your place, Joe. You reneged your right to it sixty years ago.'

Now it was Joe's turn to cast Beatrice a dirty look.

‘You walked, Joe. You walked away and didn't look back. It broke your mum and dad's hearts the way you treated Tom. And your brother? Well, that man never did a wrong thing by anybody. I can't say the same about his wife, but that's another story.' Beatrice crossed her arms. ‘Did you even think to ask Tammy why she was selling?'

‘Well, argh . . .' spluttered Joe.

‘I didn't think so. Too busy yelling and shooting that gun of yours at her, were you?'

Joe opened his mouth to protest and then shut it again. His hand went to drop down towards Boots, only stopping midway as he remembered. ‘Don't know why I'm standing here in the rain arguing with a woman.'

‘I don't know why you are either. You know I'm right. I'm always right.'

‘That's usually my line.'

Beatrice smiled and again her face and cheeks relaxed into apple dumplings. The woman was almost pretty like that, thought Joe.

‘We're more alike than you know, Mr McCauley.'

‘You looking for a family too then?' said Joe, regretting the words even as they fired like a gunshot from his mouth. As hurt as he was, she didn't deserve that one. Donald Elliot had been a useless piece of rubbish.

He shouldn't have worried because Beatrice just smiled some more. ‘Oh, but I've already got one . . .' She pointed towards the old but magnificent car. ‘He's a bit morbid and has a tongue that needs curbing but he'll do. His parents didn't know what to do with him, didn't want him around. I said he could live with me so he could finish school. Nice kid, just needs a bit of fine-tuning.' And she winked, a flutter of the eye, just like her father had delivered when he took the mickey out of one of his bush crew.

Joe was speechless. The things you learned when you least expected it.

‘And now we'd better get going.' Beatrice beckoned to the teenager, then turned towards the scrub and threw out a hand. ‘We came through the bush on an old logging trail along the ridge.'

Joe gaped at the vague hole in the trees she was pointing to. No one had used that track in decades. What a classy broad.

‘Most of the main roads here are all closed but I wanted to get the child to his father. He was very upset. The woman left him with his grandmother and she isn't in any condition to be dealing with him. I just happened to be visiting the nursing home. Found him crying in the front foyer.'

Joe stared hard towards the house. It must have been bad for Billy to cry. What had that bloody Katrina done to his boy?

‘You'd better be hoping Hunter's not caught out in that,' said Beatrice, now waving her arm to encompass the Narree River Valley down below. He swung to look and let out an almighty yell.

‘Holy
shit
!'

There was not a blade of grass to be seen, just a mass of shimmering water.

Chapter 49

Tammy's heart felt like a blizzard had just blown through it. Just for an instant there on the bridge she'd thought . . . Well, it didn't matter now what she'd thought.

And she'd lost Billy too. They both had. That little boy brought a brilliant spark to all their lives. Trav, old Joe and her. He was a good little mate to all of them. But obviously that hadn't been enough. The boy had needed his mother more. And she had to admit she felt a little betrayed by that. Billy had crept into her heart and helped fill the hole left by not having children of her own. Why hadn't she been enough for him? an unworthy part of her asked.

Her tummy lurched. What if Trav didn't find them? What if it was too late and they were long gone, throwing dust over their shoulders at Narree, Lake Grace and McCauley's Hill. Australia was a big place. If Katrina wanted to disappear, it could take years to find them again. How would Trav bear that? How would they
all
bear that?

And then there was Joe. Betrayed. Irate. Not letting her explain. The one person left on this earth who was actually related to her by blood had disowned her again too.

Trav swung around in his seat, cupped his hand under her chin and raised it so he could look into her eyes. Tammy didn't resist. What good was it now? He may as well know how she felt. She was too exhausted and wrung out to hide it. A near-death experience tended to put things into perspective. Who cared if he knew she had fallen in love with him?

‘We need to get you into the house. A shower, some warm stuff into your belly,' he said softly. But he didn't move. He didn't even flinch from the naked message that she knew was blazing from her eyes. He simply stared at her. Drank in the love.

‘Oh, Tammy,' he muttered, a hand going up to softly stroke her cheek.

She held herself back. A girl had to have some pride. It was his turn now. He either wanted her or he didn't.

But to her surprise, there was no shying away. He just stared at her, a soft look in his eyes, that gorgeous half-smile hovering around his sensual lips. The man had absolutely no idea what that whole package did to her insides. No idea at all. She closed her eyes. It was unbearable to have to look at him any longer and know that he might not even choose her in the end.

She moved aside from his hand, leaving the warmth of his caress. ‘Well, I guess I'd better move. Go get warmed up.' Her voice came out like a squeaking rubber duck's. She cleared her throat. Fingers touched her lips. She stopped. Opened her eyes.

Trav was still drinking her in, smiling that little half-smile. Oh please. Why did he have to make this so
hard
?

‘Tammy –' he said, breaking off like he didn't know what to say.

‘Just say it. For Christ's sake, just
say
it,' she said, shutting her eyes again. Get it over with, goddamn you, and then they could all move on.

‘I thought I'd lost you.'

Tammy snapped her eyes open. ‘What?'

‘I thought I'd lost you,' he said again, shaking his head. ‘I thought you were gone too. When I realised that ute was yours . . .' He swallowed. ‘I've been such an idiot.'

What was he trying to say?

‘That night of the art gallery thing, all I could think of was how I felt after Katrina left me. How to keep Billy from feeling the same thing.' Trav looked up towards the roof of the tractor. She was shocked to see tears in his vivid blue eyes. Travis, the wild ‘Hunter',
crying
?

‘And then you on the bridge; Billy gone.' He shook his head again. ‘I've had a huge fight with Joe, and that old man means a lot to me too. I've fucked up big time and lost it all.'

‘You haven't lost it all,' said Tammy, not understanding where all this was leading but knowing she had to say something to reassure him. ‘Billy's out there, somewhere. We just have to find him. And Joe? Well, I've had an argument with him too. It must be a fighting kind of week.'

Trav gave another half-smile and Tammy felt her tummy turn over again. The man looked out the tractor window, like he was trying to see beyond all the water, trying to work out where his son and former wife would be.

‘We could try ringing the police. See if they can help track them down?'

Trav glanced back at her. ‘I don't have a court order or anything preventing her from taking him. I didn't think I needed it.'

Tammy's heart contracted at the pain in his eyes. ‘You know, Trav, Billy loves you. He hasn't done this because he hates you or anything. He just wants to get to know his mother, that's all. And even though I don't agree with how he's done it, I can understand that. I'd have done anything to know mine.'

Trav sighed. ‘Yeah, maybe. I just wish he'd talked to me about it. Maybe we could've sorted something out.'

With someone like Katrina? Tammy sincerely doubted it. She couldn't even believe the woman had taken the child with her. She hadn't seemed too interested in being a mother up till now.

‘Can I come inside?' he asked, at last. ‘Use your phone. I will try the cops.'

‘Let's do it.' Tammy moved to get up off the dickey seat.

‘Hang on,' said Trav, pushing her back down.

Tammy glanced across at him. What now? She really needed to get out of this tractor cab
right away
before she ditched her dignity and did something stupid.

‘Can you forgive me for being such a dickhead?'

‘What?'

‘Asking you to wait. Taking a break. It was . . .' He stopped, obviously searching for the right words. ‘What we've got is
right
. I realise that now.'

Was he asking . . . ?

‘Is there a chance we can start over? You and me?' he said, an almost bashful expression stealing across his rugged face.

What it must have taken for a man like Travis Hunter to ask a question like that. ‘So? What do you think?' he said after a few moments, slinging her that half-smile again. A slightly nervous one this time though. Like he was worried what her answer might be.

‘Well, I guess we could try. See where it goes,' said Tammy, trying with all her might not yell with joy, Yes, yes
, hell yes!
‘When would you like to start?'

Trav smiled. A full-on smile. ‘How about now?' He moved quickly to gather her into his arms and slide her across his lap. Then slowly but surely his mouth came towards hers, his hand coming up to cradle her cheek.

She could feel her lips part. Watched as he lowered his head and brought his mouth down to touch hers. Gently at first, like it was a test, a question. And when she responded, his lips moved to demand more. His soft warm tongue entered her mouth, tasting, exploring.

She felt like she was going to combust with heat. Wriggling, she tried to get closer to him, but he tore his mouth away from hers, moaning with frustration. His lips trailed down her neck and into the sweet spot in the crook of her shoulder. He then returned to her face, kissing her cheeks, her mouth again, the top of her head.

‘Oh Tammy,' he muttered into her hair. ‘I thought I'd lost you.'

‘You're not alone there,' she said. She pulled away from him a little so she could look up into his face. ‘I thought I was a goner. But you know, when I was on that bridge, I realised how much my life has been ruled by the farm and all that goes with it. At the end of the day it's family and friends that count. Not holding onto betrayal and pain. Family and friends are what we need to keep close.'

Trav hugged her tight. ‘You're right. And I've let mine go.'

‘We'll find him, Trav,' she said. ‘I love that boy too. And so does Joe. He'll help. For Billy's sake, he'll do it, I'm sure he will.'

‘He told me to watch over the kid. Told me it was my job to look after him.' Trav looked at Tammy with such sadness. ‘I didn't do a very good job of it, did I?'

‘You did the best you could.' It was her turn now to stroke his cheek. ‘You have to hold onto that, Trav. Now c'mon, let's go phone the police.'