Mountain Ash (26 page)

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Authors: Margareta Osborn

BOOK: Mountain Ash
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Chapter 32

‘Yoo-
hoo?
Is anybody home?' A snooty, mature woman's voice came resonating down the wood-panelled hallways. ‘Goodness, Alex McGregor, if this is what your house has come to, no one to welcome guests, no wonder you're marrying my daughter!'

Clem stuck his head out the door of the bedroom and called out, ‘We're in here!'

‘You're in where? Oh, there you are! Goodness, who are
you?
' Joy Ashton walked into the room, flinging her arms around. ‘Such a mess at the front door too. I've got custard or something all over my hands. Young man, you might like to clean it up?' This was directed at Clem, who was standing like a goldfish with his mouth open. And Nate didn't blame him. Whoever the woman was, she was a piece of work. Mutton done up as lamb, wasn't that the expression? Streaked so-blonde-it-was-nearly-white hair, teased to an impressive erection on her head. Long, fake lashes, eyeshadow-encrusted lids, cherry
cheeks, garish red lips, a caftan in brilliant colours of cherry, emerald, gold and azure. She was quite a vision.

‘Jo-
deeeeee
, what have you done?' the woman cried as she spotted the patient on the bed. The caftan flew towards the bed, reminding Nate of a wild peacock running for its life.

‘I'm fine, Mum.' It was a mumble, but at least it was something, for which Nate was glad. Very glad indeed. Two minutes back he'd been thinking he should have been dialling 000.

But, son-of-a-bitch, did Ash say
Mum?

‘Oh my poor, poor love. What have they done to you?' The caftan was now beside the bed, his father all but pushed out – which was impressive, because Alex had looked like nothing but an excavator would move him away from Ash.

Jodie.

Ash.

Whoever the hell she was.

‘Don't worry, d-harling, I'm here now!'

Nate had to admit the woman's performance as Doting Mother was good. But there were just two little facts that meant it didn't ring true. One: the mother was glancing around to see whether they were all taking notice of her ability to act so convincingly; and two: if she was Ash's mother, that meant she was the child's grandmother. And the child had fled Ash's side and was pushing herself so hard into Mue's legs it was a wonder she didn't disappear. Not really the actions of a beloved grandchild, were they?

Why wasn't anyone around here who they seemed?

Then a loud alarm started shrieking.

Clem took off at a run, calling, ‘Smoke alarm. I'll get it.'

Nate and Wal followed him. Anything to get out of that room, which was now closing in so hard around Nate, he felt like he'd throw something at someone.

Wal muttered to him as they ran for the kitchen, ‘Fuckin' hell. What a mess.'

Some time later Alex stood proudly before the fireplace, glass of whisky in hand. ‘Before we dine, I'd like to make an announcement; if you'll charge your glasses?'

Everyone was either standing or sitting in various positions around the room. Some moved to the bar. All were drinking except for Milly, who was sitting in her corner playing Polly Pocket with Nate; her cup of lemonade sat beside his glass of rum and coke. Jodie refused to look in that direction. She didn't need to see the man responsible for her current state (in more ways than one) having fun with her beloved daughter. It would just be too much.

It was just as well she had been banished to the couch. She couldn't see the pair of them, only hear their voices.

‘What she really said was “I'm gunna shoot the bastard dead”, but Mum said I'm not allowed to swear and I
know
I'm not allowed to lie,' a sigh followed, ‘so I really just don't know what to do. Polly needs to go do something outside on the farm.'

A deep rumble from behind the couch: ‘How about we just pretend there was no snake and Mum needed more eggs to make another pavlova?'

Cowboy Nate had obviously seen the state of her dessert when they'd all put out the fire in the kitchen. Leaving vegetables to boil dry wasn't the cleverest thing she'd done today, but it was
so by far
not the worst. Hopefully all the surprises were over. She would get through the next couple of hours then go home to bed and forget today ever happened. She'd wake up
tomorrow and Nate and Wal would be magically transported back to the Snowy Mountains or the Territory where they were
supposed
to be, Joy would be home doing whatever she did on Bribie Island and she and Alex would elope. Milly could come too if she wanted.

‘Are you all ready now?' asked Alex.

Jodie could hear Nate getting up from the floor behind her and taking a swig from his drink. Why was she so attuned to his movements?

‘Well, c'mon.' This was from Clem, sitting over near the window, gazing outside. ‘We're waiting.'

This earned Clem a hard look from Alex and an even sterner glance from Mue.

‘I'm hungry,' said Clem by way of explanation.

Oh God. How the heck were they going to salvage something for lunch out of the mess in the kitchen? Mue had taken over all that. Something Jodie should have let her do, days earlier. She had offered, but Jodie had thought to give the woman the day off, so she could try out her hand at being a proper cook and feeding a proper family. Her soon-to-be-family …

She groaned, causing Joy, who was sitting at the other end of the couch, to frown. ‘Are you all right?' The tone was clipped. It wasn't about Joy any more so her concern for Jodie was laced with impatience.

‘Fine.' What else could she say?

Alex was speaking. ‘I'd like to let you all in on a little secret which goes a long way in explaining why Jodie fainted at the front door – but please keep it to yourselves until after the wedding.'

Secret? What secret? Jodie started. Alex, no! They had planned to tell no one until after the wedding …

Nate had moved to the end of the couch. Along with her little girl. Crap. She hadn't even told Milly yet. She had to tell her daughter first!

‘Alex –'

‘No, Jodie. I feel they need to know now so they can celebrate with us.'

‘But, Alex –'

The man brushed her off. ‘I want to tell you all we're having a baby. Glenevelyn has a new heir!'

Jodie slumped in her seat. She couldn't help but sneak a glance at Nate's face. And that one look was enough. He'd gone from a paler shade of bronze (which he'd been since they'd sighted each other at the top of the stairs) to a chalk-white quartz. His face slowly turned to hers. Shock. Violent disbelief. Wild anger.

And then her view of him was cut off as Milly threw herself into her mother's arms.

‘Mummy! Oh
wow
. I'm gunna have a little baby brother or sister. Awww … totally cool!' Now Milly had her hands on Jodie's tummy. ‘So the bubby's in there? Can I hear it?' A small pink ear was pushed into Jodie's dress. The one that was now decorated in red jelly stains, like blood. As if Jodie had been stabbed in the heart and was bleeding out over the couch.

Alex, standing by the fireplace, was pink with pride. Mue was disappearing out the door into the kitchen. (Lucky Mue.) Joy was speechless, staring at Alex as if she couldn't work out how, at fifty-eight, he could father her daughter's baby. Correction, it was probably why the hell would he
want
to have another baby? Joy was an expert at not wanting children. Next was Clem, who was watching Alex, a perplexed expression on his face. And, she realised when she could finally see beyond
the acres of Milly's hair, there was no sign of Nate. He'd gone. Disappeared.

Wal was the only man left standing. The only person in the room who stepped up to the fireplace and shook Alex's hand. He turned and nodded to Jodie, then he too vacated the room. To find Cowboy Nate no doubt. Clem followed soon after.

Jodie patted her daughter's head and wished she could dissolve too. Reappear back at McCauley's Hill, to sit on the old verandah, take in the peace and serenity of those incredible mountains. The Great Diving Range. Back to old Joe McCauley's comfy, ramshackle home where she and Milly could start life anew.

And forget about the McGregors. Both father and son. Return to a simple life where there was just the two of them. It'd been hard as a single mother.
Really
hard. The vulnerability, the sheer numbing hard work of bringing up a child on your own. But it was nothing like this.

She couldn't compare anything to the mess that was
this.

Chapter 33

Sucker-punched, Nate staggered out the door. He'd never understood that term until now. He felt like his guts had been wrenched from his belly. He wanted to violently spew. He couldn't believe it. Just couldn't comprehend what had been delivered to him in the last half hour. He stumbled across the well-kept lawns towards the fence bordering the gardens and the house paddocks.

Ash was here. The woman he'd been looking for was
here
at Glenevelyn. Ash was Jodie. Jodie was Ash. They were one and the same person. The woman Nate had thought was
his
was in actual fact his father's new fiancée. His new stepmother.

And she was pregnant.

With his
father's
baby.

He sank to his knees and lifted his head to the sky. The wretched feeling in his heart erupted from his mouth as a harsh, gutteral groan.
Why?
Anyone else but his father. He'd have fought
for her then. But it was his
fucking father.
How could she? How could
he?
Hadn't the old man already taken enough from him? His right to live here as a son to his mother? The right to farm alongside his father? The right to his place at Glenevelyn, that by birth should eventually be his? But no, the old man kept taking. Kept spreading his tendrils out like an octopus's, grabbing at and then taking everything that he wanted. The one woman Nate had thought his heart capable of loving had now been taken from him by Alex fucking McGregor. Like everything else he'd cared about. When would the man ever be happy? When would he ever stop taking?

And Ash.
His
Ash. Pregnant to another man. Belonging to another man. Destined to become his stepmother. His godforsaken fucking stepmother.

He couldn't believe she slept with his father. Did she get pregnant to deliberately ensnare Alex McGregor? Those friends she was at the rodeo with … they were out to have a good time … had he got her wrong all along? Was she a gold-digger? A tramp? A slut?

Son of a bitch.

He slumped on the grass. Stayed there, until a hand landed on his shoulder. Nate barely acknowledged it, so visceral was his anger. His unabridged misery. The agony of his breaking heart.

‘Mate?' The deep voice pierced through Nate's pain.

Wal sprawled on the grass beside him, looked out beyond the rolling paddocks to the scrub rising beyond. It was so hot out in the sun that the air was shimmering like there was another world beyond the boundary fences of Glenevelyn. If there was another world out there, it was exactly where Nate wanted to be right now.

They stayed like that for a while. One as shattered as a man could be; the other silent.

Until Clem arrived, a six-pack in hand. He sat too, but in the spreading shade of a golden elm. ‘Might pay to get over here,' was his only comment. Nate heard him, but didn't want to move. Maybe if he stayed here the sun would melt him into a puddle. He could then seep away down through the river-borne topsoil and never be seen again. His father would be real pleased about that one.

‘C'mon, mate.' Wal grabbed his arm. ‘You need to get into the shade.'

Nate resisted and Wal tugged at him again, harder this time. The old bloke meant business. He clearly wasn't going to let Nate suffer sunstroke from his own stupidity.

What a fucking idiot he was. Falling in love with a woman. The one woman who couldn't be his.

‘C'mon, Nate.' Wal wouldn't give up. ‘It's got to be over forty degrees out here.'

Eventually Nate scrambled his way to the trunk of Clem's elm, more for Wal's sake than his own. He leaned his back against the solid tree, grateful for something to support him. He took the beer offered by his childhood mate. Silently thanked him. He didn't have a voice.

‘Care to tell me what this is all about?'

Nate popped the top of the can and took a swig. Ice-cold beer washed down his throat. He was grateful for the liquid, but he needed more –
lots
more – to drown this gut-wrenching misery he was feeling.

Wal flopped on the grass in front of the other two. Belly to the sky, he flipped his hat over his eyes. Obviously, Wal wasn't going to answer Clem, which was a bugger. This was Nate's
conversation – if he wanted it to be a conversation. Nate heaved a sigh.

Finally he said, ‘I know Ash.'

‘Ash?'

‘He means Jodie,' said Wal from under his hat.

‘Right,' said Clem. ‘And the problem with that is?'

Nate tipped his head back, eyes closed. How could he spell this out? He didn't want to think about it himself. ‘I said I
know
Jodie.'

It took Clem a moment. ‘You mean … you know her … as in, like, you've
slept
with her?'

‘Yep.'

‘Fuck.'

‘That pretty well sums it up,' said Wal. ‘Shit.'

‘Yep,' said Nate.

‘When?'

Silence. Nate just couldn't say it. It wouldn't look good for either him
or
Ash, who was now Jodie.

The man pressed on. ‘Does
he
know?'

‘No. And he's not going to, all right?'

‘Settle. I won't be saying nuthin'. But shit, Nate. Your stepmother.'

Nate dropped his head again. He wasn't even going to think about that one. He couldn't.

Bees buzzed around the lavender blooming next to the fence. The odd bird, brave enough to weather the heat, twittered. An aeroplane droned overhead, leaving a vapour trail that barely dissipated.

The three men sat, sucking on cans, wondering how long they could get away with staying out here. Away from the train smash that awaited them inside.

Finally, Clem stirred. ‘She was more than just a lay, huh?' It took a few minutes before Nate could find it in himself to respond. He wished he could take himself back to Riverton. Suck it up in a vacuum like it had never happened. She wasn't the woman he'd imagined she was. It had all been in his head. He'd been building her up to be a fucking goddess when all she was, was a harlot. He wished he'd never met her. Wished he could go back to when life was as complicated as finding a beer and a woman he didn't care about for the night.

But in his heart of hearts he knew he didn't mean it. Ash had come to mean more than that. Just seeing her had tripped off all his instincts again. Conquer the enemy, protect her, love her.

Fat chance of that now. As Clem said, she was going to be his godforsaken stepmother.

He groaned.

Clem's hand clamped him on the shoulder. ‘What are you going to do?'

Nate could feel tears welling. He stared at the sky, through the branches above his head. It was a brilliant blue, against the lime yellow of the elm leaves. Just beautiful … like Ash. Oh fucking hell, what a shit-fight.

He sat and looked up at those glorious yellow leaves, the same shade as Ash's hair when it shone in the sun. He wondered if his old man knew that.

There were only two ways to deal with this. He could take it lying down. Or stand up and be a man. Two choices. Two ways to play it. He staggered to his feet. ‘What am I going to do, Clem? I'm going back in there. I'm going to eat and then me and Wal are going to get out of here. Fuck staying around
to help them play happy families together. They can have the whole bloody lot on their own. The old bastard probably wants to give it all to the new heir anyway. I don't want it. It's been tainted by
him
. I've been saving. I've got money from Mum. I'll go buy some land around Lake Cargelligo, Bourke, or on the edge of the Strzelecki Desert. Maybe even up Barcaldine way. Always liked it out there.'

Wal grunted. Nate took that to mean he was in.

‘You do that, and I'm there,' said Clem.

‘Really?' Nate couldn't believe his ears. Clem was a high-country man. He hunted wild dogs and feral cats in his spare time. What would he do out on the flat?

‘Always wanted to work on a big place,' said Clem, draining the last of his beer. ‘Plus, you'll be needing a partner if you're to buy anything decent.'

‘You'd do that for me?'

Clem held up his hand to show a scar across the pad of his right thumb. ‘Well, we are brothers after all.'

Nate winced and held up his own left hand to show Wal the matching scar. ‘We decided at the age of twelve that we were Indians. They had more fun than the cowboys and they also became blood brothers.'

‘Mum had a fit over the mess,' said Clem, shaking his head. ‘Remember?'

‘Yeah, the little bastard dug the pocket knife in too deep.' Nate gave a half laugh. ‘He was pissed off I'd run over his BMX with the motorbike.'

‘Made a fucking mess of it too. It took me weeks to straighten the frame.'

Wal was looking at them both, a grin on his mottled lips. ‘You two had a good time growing up, didn't you?'

Nate and Clem glanced at each other. Clem stared at the ground so Nate answered for him. Not unlike what he'd done most of their lives. ‘Yeah. We had each other. Not like the poor lonesome bugger my
stepmother
is currently cooking.' His face sobered quickly on
that
thought.

Clem sighed. ‘At least it'll have Milly. She's a great kid.' Nate had suspected that from his time on the floor with the child. So she not only looked like her mother, she was just as adorab– Nate shut down his brain again.

‘Boys?' It was Mue, calling from the side kitchen door. ‘Lunch is ready!'

For Wal, it took no second invitation. He was obviously hungry because he took off across the grass like a gazelle.

For the old Indian blood-brothers it took a few moments longer. They watched as Wal jog-trotted up the steps to greet Mue with a wave and words they could hear where they stood. ‘The other boys are coming. Now, what have you cooked for me, you gorgeous woman …?'

Nate sighed. Wal just couldn't help himself with the older women. He was a charmer. No wonder Beryl back in Riverton had been hot to trot. But it would take more than a few smarmy comments like that to sneak under old Mue's guard. And unfortunately for Wal, he wouldn't have time to try his moves. After lunch they were out of here. Heading north, back where they'd come from.

He could feel Clem's gaze boring into his side. Nate turned to face him. Grimaced.

‘You ready?' asked Clem.

Nate sighed. His insides curled like they were hay going though baler knotters. He could do this. He
had
to do this.

Son of a bitch.

He gritted his teeth. Slapped on his hat and walked. Head bent, shoulders forwards. Like a man under siege from all quarters. And just like when they were kids, he was glad for the man behind him.

Clem had his back.

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