Mountain Ash (23 page)

‘Alex?'

He was sitting on her couch. Well, on Joe McCauley's old couch, the one she'd inherited by default when she moved to McCauley's Hill.

‘Mmmm …?' He was in his favourite position – legs stretched out in front, head back, a glass of red wine in his hand. She'd given him dinner, put Milly to bed and now it was just him, her and the secret, which she felt was shouting, ‘I'm here. Deal with me, woman!'

Now was the time. She couldn't ask for Alex in a more relaxed frame of mind if she tried. Well, except if she slept with him and that was
not
going to happen. Not tonight, if she could help it.

‘Ummm …' Her throat felt parched, her tummy like it had been on a marathon run. Shaky, hollow,
queasy
…

Oh God, no. Not now. Jodie walked quickly then ran through the kitchen, onto the back verandah, right turn into
the loo. Was she going to make it? Just. She threw herself down in front of the toilet bowl and retched. She sat there for a few minutes to make sure there was no more. Then walked back into the kitchen and got herself a glass of water.

Leaning against the kitchen bench she stared out through the window at the moonlit night. It was beautiful. Dark skies with masses of bright diamond-like chips that lit up the heavens. The stars seemed to point the way north towards the Snowy Mountains. The place she wished she'd never been.

A loud voice called from the lounge, ‘Jodie? Would you mind bringing the wine bottle in here?'

She darted a look towards Milly's room off the kitchen. Had the sudden call woken her up? She moved to the doorway of her daughter's room. The little girl hadn't stirred. She was curled up under a thick, fluffy pink doona. It was amazing there was even room for the kid in her bed, there were so many soft toys piled around her. Jodie smiled, then frowned as Alex called again. She grabbed the wine bottle off the kitchen table and returned to the lounge.

‘Here you go, Alex.' She topped up his glass. He hadn't even missed her and he still hadn't opened his eyes, although he was smiling slightly at the warming heat coming from the fire. It was a cool evening for early summer, thanks to a change the day before. No rain, just a chill westerly wind, and she'd used that excuse to light the fire.

It was a comforting room when the fire was blazing. She could see why he'd like it. And she needed him in the best mood possible.

‘You're not having a glass?' Alex had opened his eyes now. He was offering the bottle. Staring at her in a particularly intense way.

Now. Do it now.

‘Alex, I've got something to tell you.'

His hand stopped, the wine glass halfway to his mouth. ‘This sounds serious.'

‘It is.'

He stared at her. There was an expression she couldn't identify. A gulp of his Adam's apple.

It struck her in that instant that he thought she was going to break up with him.

I'm having a baby …
She didn't say it out loud. It was all spoken in her head. He was still looking. She was trying to get the words out. This was so hard. She didn't want to lie, but what else could she do? She – correction,
they –
needed security for what was to come.

Alex downed his glass of red in one swig and placed it onto the side table. He sat back and held his hands in front of him as if he was going to ward off an attack. She wondered if that was how his Scottish ancestors had rested too. Deceptively relaxed but in truth alert and on guard.

‘Well, whatever it is, you'd better tell me.' He had fire in his eyes, as if he was going to argue with whatever she said.

‘I'm pregnant.' There. This time she'd actually said it. The words seemed to bounce around the room, rebounding off the walls, looking for a place to hide.

Alex's eyes widened. He sat up in the chair, leaned towards her. ‘You're
what?
'

‘I'm pregnant.' Jodie crossed her arms, surreptitiously took a step back. She waited for the explosion, hoping against hope she could contain it so he didn't wake Milly up. For fuck's sake, who was she kidding here?

‘How far gone are you?' he asked. His gaze was piercing.

She had, to her shame, thought out her answer to this question and it wasn't too far from the truth.

‘Nine weeks or so.'

‘Confirmed by the doctor?'

Jodie nodded. Half a lie there. Dr Weir had confirmed the pregnancy, just not the dates.

A flicker of relief passed over Alex's face so quickly, Jodie wasn't actually sure she'd seen it. Was he reassured because the dates worked, or was she just being paranoid?

She wasn't ready for what happened next. She expected the man to yell, roar, be angry – at the very least perhaps get up and storm out. But he didn't do any of those things. He jumped from the chair and came at her. She moved backwards real quick, until she was pressed up against a serving trolley. The china and silver behind her rattled.

Oh. My. God. He's going to hit me!

But he didn't.

He grabbed hold of her stiff body, wrapped his arms around her and hugged her instead.

His voice, muffled in her hair, came sliding down to her ears. ‘I never thought … I never imagined …'

He
never thought or imagined?

He drew back and held her out in front of him. The look on his face was pure and unadulterated delight. He was absolutely
thrilled.
His face could barely contain the smile, the pride, the sheer male glory that he was to be a father again. It was so poignant, so beautiful, she wished with all her heart that this baby really was Alex McGregor's.

‘We'll have to get married now.'

‘I hoped you'd say that.'

A torrent of feeling swept over her. Overwhelming shame. Terrible, gut-wrenching guilt. Here she was duping a man who had been nothing but kind to her. Okay, so sometimes he
worried her a little. But what person didn't have their faults? Particularly and namely herself.

‘We'll have the wedding before you start showing, so people don't get the wrong idea.'

Jodie blinked. He was worried about that?
Now?

‘When's the baby due?' said Alex. He'd let her go and was pacing the floor.

‘Mid-July.' She had to believe what she was doing with Alex was right. That it was the best and
only
thing to do. For all of them.

‘Well, that doesn't give us much time, does it?' The man was now standing in front of her. He took her hands firmly in his. ‘We'll get married after Christmas. The first week in January would be best. That's before council goes back to work. All my other commitments in Melbourne will be on hold for the January holidays and I should have extra help on the property by then.' He smiled with satisfaction. ‘We can have a honeymoon too. Somewhere exotic. The Greek Islands perhaps?'

‘I'll have Milly, Alex.'

The man waved his hand. ‘I'm sure Mue would love to have her stay. She told me how much she loved having Milly when you went
patchworking
the other weekend.' Was his voice tinged with sarcasm? Jodie thought, startled. Did he know what else had gone on that weekend? Surely not. Who would have told him? No one other than Stacey, Nate and probably Wal knew what had happened beside that riverbank. She was just being paranoid.

‘Well, m'dear, you have some planning to do,' said Alex with relish.

She was being too sensitive. He was elated!

Alex rubbed his hands together. ‘An heir for the McGregors. How wonderful.'

But he already had an heir, didn't he?
Somewhere
in Australia. Jodie took a gamble. ‘You'll mention this to your son?'

Then she fervently wished she'd kept her mouth shut. Alex's grin snapped off like a light. A dark expression filled his face. ‘I might.' The tone was both defensive and aggressive.

She ploughed on regardless. ‘I mean, he probably should know he's going to have a new stepmother, a stepsister and a half-brother or -sister?'

Alex stood very still. Slowly he nodded. ‘Yes, you're probably right. He should.'

Jodie released the breath she'd been holding. His son was such a fraught topic.

‘I'll ring him shortly. Get him to come home for the wedding.' Alex brightened a little. ‘He can even be best man. That would look good for the family.'

And she understood that anything that looked good for the family pleased Alex very much. Position meant a lot to him. The least she could do was fall in with his plans.

‘Sounds good,' she said. ‘I'll let my mother know too.'

‘Oh, yes. Your mother.' Alex's tone was ominous. He knew how much Joy Ashton had wrecked her family life by running off. What Alex could never understand was Robert's steadfast refusal to put Joy down for it. Jodie had overheard a discussion one day, while the two played chess and drank port.

‘It takes two to tango in these situations, Alex,' said Robert. ‘She obviously thought she had reason to go.'

‘But you gave her half of everything,' responded Alex. ‘I would've fought her through every court in the land for the embarrassment.'

Robert had responded with a smile in his voice. ‘But that's where we're different, my friend. Half of nothing is nothing.'

‘It was enough!' snapped Alex. ‘And it's the principle of the thing.'

Jodie knew this was one of the many situations where the men agreed to disagree.

‘Do you really have to invite her?' said Alex, breaking into Jodie's thoughts.

She nodded. ‘Yes. I do. Hopefully she won't come.' Usually when it came to Joy visiting she gave excuses like ‘It's not convenient, I have to have my hair done/legs waxed/nose reshaped' or ‘It's too expensive, I'm paying off my Botox injections.' She was such a witch of a woman, she didn't even
deserve
the right to the title
mother
. Which was one of the reasons why Jodie was determined to be the best mother she could be to Milly. And now another baby.

Alex had his iPhone out of his pocket. He was searching through dates. ‘Right then. Fourth of January. That'll make you just over three months pregnant. Do you think you will be showing then?'

Jodie shrugged her shoulders. ‘Probably not, but seeing as this is my second baby, I'm not really sure.'

‘Well, we really can't do it before then. I want to get Nathaniel home and,' he pursed his lips, ‘you need to tell your mother. You'll leave it as late as you can, won't you?'

Jodie laughed hesitantly. She wasn't sure if he was being serious or clever. She looked into his face.

He was dead serious.

Great. Just great.

A mother neither of them liked but who had to be told for the sake of family harmony. A son who needed to be told he was getting a new family for the sake of diplomacy. Both of them would probably come to the wedding and cause havoc.

Two weeks later and Nate hadn't changed his mind about Ash. With Wal he was building cattle-yards for Dan Caldwell. Hardwood six-by-two rails, railway-line posts. It was a big job but it gave him time to mull and he kept replaying their time on the riverbank over and over in his head. It had been the most wonderful night of his life. She was so different from any other female he'd ever met. And he'd so wanted her to be his. The memory of her lying with him on that riverbank kept his dreams warm at night. But he hadn't been able to find her.

He'd been back to Riverton and asked around. No one seemed to know of a girl named Ash with long blonde hair and silvery-blue eyes. The fact he didn't have a surname or anything else much to go by hadn't helped. He just wished he'd got Stacey's ute's number plate: then he could have called in a favour or two and perhaps tracked them down.

Caldwell was working some new horses he'd just brought in from the national park. They had to work the brumbies to a certain point so they weren't dangerous before they put them in a round yard with a kid. It was interesting to watch. How these rebel kids, who baulked at authority, slowly understood that it was Dan – the authority – who was trying to help them and keep them safe. He was the one giving them the instructions on how to work with wild animals. And then there were the horses. They did everything they could to avoid the kid in the yard, thinking he or she was a predator. But gradually the horses came to realise that the kid was safety and comfort for them too. It was a rewarding thing to watch a horse finally lock on to a former wild street-kid and eventually not want to leave that child. Wherever they moved, the horse had its nose in the child's back, seeking comfort.

Nate wanted comfort too but didn't get it. Instead he got a phone call from his father.

‘Nathaniel, it's Alex. Where are you? You were supposed to be home by now.'

Nate juggled the phone with a slab of railway iron. They'd just finished the cattle-yards and were tidying up the job. ‘I'm still up north,' he said. Well, the Snowy Mountains
were
north of Glenevelyn, as the crow flew.

The silence from the other end of the phone was ominous. A sigh, followed by, ‘Well, kindly get in that rust-bucket you call a ute and get yourself home. I'm getting married a week into the new year. I'll expect you to be home in time for lunch on the twenty-first. It will be an early Christmas get-together. Do
not
piss me off by not attending.'

Nate thought of a dozen things he could say to that – primarily ‘Fuck off' – but that wasn't going to get either of them anywhere.

‘I'll be there.'

‘You do that. I'll introduce you to your new stepmother over lunch. Don't be late.' He abruptly rang off.

Nate listened to the silence for a while.

‘Who was that?' asked Wal.

‘The old man.'

‘Trouble in paradise, huh?'

Nate gave a half laugh. ‘As if. The stupid old bastard's set the date for the wedding. Wants us home for it.'

Wal glanced around at the completed yards standing tall and proud in the afternoon sun. ‘Guess that can be done. We're finished here anyway.'

Nate stared at their last few weeks' work. The cattle-yards looked like they would last a hundred years. The same couldn't be said for him. The way he was moping around the place he'd drop off the perch with pining.

‘No use crying over spilt milk either,' said Wal, reading his thoughts. ‘That Ash is gone, and best you be forgetting about her.' He threw the last load of rubble onto the tray of the truck they'd been using to cart around their fencing gear. ‘You need to get your head around this wedding too. If the bride's a young chick, the bridesmaids could be good lookers …'

Nate shook his head. He didn't want to go to any fucking wedding or meet any bloody new stepmother, and he sure as hell didn't want to sleep with another woman.

He wanted Ash, wherever she was.

It was four days before Christmas and Jodie was wishing she'd shot Alex's idea of a shotgun wedding right down. Today was
the day for the meeting of the two families and she was in the kitchen at Glenevelyn madly preparing for the early festive lunch. Hair tied up into a gaudy scarf found in the laundry (she figured it was one of Mue's) and wearing little more than cut-off shorts, tank top and apron, she was cooking up a storm. A blistering storm. The roast turkey was burning on the outside while running blood when she poked it with a fork. The potatoes were still hard in their saucepan. The vegetables weren't looking too bad but then she hadn't started cooking them yet. The store-bought pavlova was dripping with oozing cream thanks to the heat. She couldn't fit another thing in the fridges – of which there were two – as she'd bought enough readymade supplies to feed a small army. Her mother was coming, having flown into Melbourne the night before, and would apparently be heading straight back there that afternoon. Joy was spending time ‘catching up with my friends' before the wedding. Nothing had been said about spending time ‘catching up with my daughter and granddaughter'. Jodie wasn't sure whether to be grateful for that or not.

Mue was also coming for lunch and bringing a trifle, which was important, because her trifles were to die for and it would probably be the only decent thing anyone got to eat. Clem was supposed to be making a silent appearance, but as to whether he would after his altercation with Alex was another thing. Then there were Alex, Milly, herself and the two station-hands, who didn't seem inclined to go home for Christmas (why the hell not when faced with her cooking?). And then there was the impending arrival of Alex's son; something Jodie
was
looking forward to. She was just dying to see this ‘child'. Did he look like his father? Have the same ‘I am totally comfortable with my place on earth' kind of air around him? There were no
family photos on the walls for her to sneak a look at. She'd checked. The few modern pictures were of Elizabeth. With so little said about him, Alex's son was something of an enigma. She'd conjured up an image of him in which he looked like his father, just a younger version. She wondered if she'd got it right.

Yes, she was looking forward to meeting Nathaniel McGregor.

But first she had to deal with an emergency that had her wishing St Patrick had made Australia devoid of serpents instead of his beloved Ireland. She couldn't load this 12-gauge shotgun for the life of her. And she had to. There was a tiger snake causing insurrection in the hen-house and she didn't have any other safer way of dealing with the thing.

Alex had gone off an hour earlier to oversee the station-hands, who were fixing a pump down by the river. Milly was in Alex's huge living room, off the kitchen, playing with her Polly Pocket dolls. Jodie could hear her saying ‘I'm gunna load this gun and shoot the bastard. That'll teach him to come eating those eggs.'

If Jodie hadn't been so stressed she'd have been laughing.

Again she tried to jam the shotgun cartridge into the chamber. It was an under and over piece. The first cartridge had fitted fine. What was stopping the second one from fitting in the barrel snugly? She tipped the gun backwards and the first cartridge slipped with a clunk to the floor, followed by a few pieces of lead pellet – from a slug gun, she guessed. Somehow it'd been dropped into the slot. She tipped the gun forwards again and had another try at loading the shells. They both went in first go this time. She breathed a sigh of relief and held the gun pointing to the ground with the safety-catch on as she walked out the kitchen door onto the verandah. The air was so hot it was like she was inside an oven. Now she knew how the roasting
turkey felt. The squawks of panic and alarm coming from Alex's chook-house filled the fetid air. She had to do something.

Borrowing a pair of gumboots from the backdoor, she took a deep breath and set off across the yard. She could do this. She hated guns but she knew how to load, point and fire them. And that was all she had to do here.

Back to the snake. She crept up towards the nesting boxes. That was where she'd seen its tail disappearing through a gap in the wood ten minutes earlier. It had taken this long to get the gun out of the safe and organised. As she'd suspected there was nothing to be seen at the egg-collecting side of the building. The nesting boxes had been built out the side of the shed with lids like old school desks with a few extra holes caused by weathering. You lifted the lid, gathered the eggs and you were done. But there was no way she was lifting those lids today. Not with a tiger snake potentially on the other side.

Creeping around to the gate, she let herself into the chook-yard. Feathers and fluff filled the air as hens ran hither and there, protesting at the tops of their lungs. She spotted the snake curled half in and half out of the insides of the wooden boxes. He'd obviously had the time of his life as he was nice and fat. She stayed well back, lifted the shotgun. Depressed the safety catch. Aimed. And fired.

All hell broke loose.

Snake parts splattered everywhere. The chooks went into meltdown. She was covered in gore and feathers and coated in the dust kicked up by the gunshot and twenty hens trying to make their getaway.

She fired the gun again, just to be sure. More gunk and gore blew into the air and coated everything around her. It was disgusting.

But the snake was a goner.

She breathed a huge sigh of relief and leaned against a post, willing her heart to return to its normal rate. The chooks were still going ballistic but as the minutes ticked by both her heart and the hens calmed down. Looking down at her person, Jodie sighed. It was going to take more than a face-washer to clean up the mess splashed all over her. Better get to it, otherwise she'd never be ready in time. She exited the chicken run to head back towards the house. Stopped to prop open the gate so the chooks could get away from the carnage.

A vehicle drove slowly past behind her. She gave a blithe half wave, expecting it to be her mother. She would not turn around. There was no way she was letting Joy see her like this. Nor Alex for that matter. The noise of the motor disappeared behind the house, heading towards the sheds. Or it was possibly the boys back from the river. Funny they hadn't stopped, though.

She shrugged. Regardless, she needed to get inside the house, showered and ready for their guests, pronto. She'd tell Alex what she'd done later.

As she made her way back across the lawn she glanced down again and realised her apron was beyond redemption. It was a disgrace. Ripping it off, she dumped it in the bin as she swung up onto the verandah and let herself through the laundry door. Luckily she had a change of clothes stashed in her bag in a spare room. There was an en suite, so after calling out to Milly and letting her know what she was doing, Jodie hotfooted it to the upper storey of the house and set about scrubbing herself clean.

She just prayed their lunch wouldn't self-destruct for a little while longer.