Inherit the Sky (Lang Downs 1 ) (2 page)

“But what about your career?”

“What career?” Caine asked bitterly. “I have a job. I probably won’t ever lose it because I do it well, but I’ll never advance at Comcast. I’ve been there for t-ten years without a promotion.”

“You could change jobs.”
“I could t-try,” Caine agreed, “but I probably won’t find one, not stuttering the way I do. Certainly not a job where I could advance. It would be trading one dead-end job for another.”
“You don’t know anything about sheep.”
“I can learn,” Caine insisted.“I could work outdoors instead of in an office. The sheep wouldn’t c-care if I stutter sometimes. Does it make that much of a difference if you sell it now or in a year if I’m wrong and I can’t make it work?”
“Not to me, but if you pull up roots here, you won’t have even a dead-end job to come back to.”
“Then I’ll just have to make things work in Australia,” Caine declared. He took his mother’s hands in his. “P-please, Mom. Give me this chance.”
His mother sighed and hugged him. “All right, honey. If this is really what you want to do, I won’t sell the ranch. I’ll worry about you being so far from home, but you’re an adult, even if I still look at you and see my baby. After all, everything that’s mine will be yours someday, so I suppose this is your inheritance too.”
“Thanks, Mom. I love you.”

T
HREE months later, visa and passport in hand, Caine waited nervously for his big adventure to begin. He wasn’t particularly looking forward to the twenty-eight-hour flight. He’d have to change planes in Dallas and then again in Los Angeles before flying on to Sydney, but he could deal with the airports. He’d deal with the long flight, too, because this was what he wanted. He’d been in touch with Macklin Armstrong, the foreman at his uncle’s sheep station, as he’d learned it was called in Australia, via e-mail, so the man knew he was coming. He’d decided to stay in Sydney for a few days before heading out to Lang Downs, his uncle’s station. As excited as he was about getting

there and getting started, he suspected he’d need a day or two to recover, not to mention he didn’t exactly have the right clothes for his new life. He wasn’t sure he could find them in Sydney either, but he’d look anyway. And if not, he’d throw himself on Macklin’s mercy and find the closest town to the station. Boorowa looked like the closest on the map, but he’d gotten lost in Eastern Kentucky in college and learned that maps could be deceiving, and what looked like a straight line wasn’t always the fastest route.

First, though, he had to get to Australia.
He’d broken the lease on his condo a month ago, selling most of his furniture and packing up the few things he couldn’t live without.

Some of them were at his parents’ house, to be stored and shipped later. He’d shipped the rest to Australia, hoping they’d get there by the time he did. He had a suitcase with clothes and other necessities, but he wasn’t entirely willing to give up his books and CDs.

It was sad to think his entire ten years in Philadelphia could be summed up in a box of books and CDs, but those were the only things he couldn’t live without. He’d said goodbye to his friends, and they’d all promised to keep in touch on Facebook or Twitter. Somehow Caine didn’t expect that to last terribly long. They were friends, but in the casual acquaintance sort of way. Certainly not a reason to stay in Philadelphia any longer.

The call to board interrupted Caine’s musings. He joined the line to show his passport and ticket and take his seat. He’d splurged for the trip, flying business class rather than coach. He’d made enough money selling off his furniture to pay for it, and he wouldn’t need a lot of money once he got to Australia. From what he remembered from talking to his uncle as a child and what he understood from his more recent conversations with Macklin, other than his own personal supplies—clothing, toiletries, etc.—the station paid for the rest. He could move into his uncle’s house and eat with the men who worked for him, so he wouldn’t have rent to pay or groceries to buy.

He could afford to be comfortable on the plane to his new life. The flight was full, so Caine had a neighbor between him and the window, but the man didn’t seem inclined to talk, and Caine wasn’t one to strike up conversations with strangers. He had learned to overcome

his natural inclinations when it mattered, but his lingering nerves over his stuttering made him timid in unfamiliar situations.
Three hours later, they landed in Dallas, and Caine made his way through the maze of terminals to his next gate, feeling the fatigue of traveling hitting him already. He rolled his neck, trying to stretch the aching muscles, to no real avail. Maybe the hotel in Sydney would have

Or maybe he’d better skip that and start to toughen up since he doubted there would be a masseur at Lang Downs.
His stomach churned as he boarded the next flight, nerves assaulting him as he wondered what business a city boy like him had moving to Australia to run a sheep station. He’d grown up in Cincinnati, not a huge city, but the metropolitan area counted over two million people, so it wasn’t tiny by any means, and Philadelphia had over five million. He had a feeling he was in for more than a little culture shock out on Lang Downs, but maybe it would be good for him. He wasn’t overweight or anything, but he was definitely a little bit on the soft side. The physical lifestyle would harden him up, make him stronger and healthier, and keep him so busy he wouldn’t have time to miss the luxuries of town. And if the longing for a museum or a play got to be too much, he’d figure out a way to get to a city for a long weekend. It wasn’t like Australia was a complete wasteland. The Sydney Opera House was world-renowned. He could still have bits and pieces of city life if he planned carefully.
By the time they landed in Los Angeles, Caine had talked himself back down from his panic with the help of a couple of shots of vodka. He wasn’t falling down drunk or anything, but he was definitely more relaxed than he could remember being since Christmas.
He reminded himself that his e-mails with Macklin had all been cordial, if not quite friendly, and honestly, he could understand the man’s concerns. Caine freely admitted he knew nothing about sheep farming. He’d be more ignorant than the rankest beginner on the station because, chances were, even the newest hand there had grown up around the industry. Caine had done some research, trying to learn