Right As Rain (32 page)

“Taste this,” Mackenna said.

He licked purée from the spoon she held in front of him.

“Mmm. That's good. Parsnip and garlic?”

“I caramelised the garlic first,” she said. “It's not too strong?”

“No. What's it for?”

“I'm doing crispy shoulder of lamb. Mum has parsnips in her garden but there's not enough to serve everyone as a vegetable dish.”

“I'd add a bit more pepper.”

Mackenna was instantly back at her pan. He watched as she added pepper and tasted again. She smiled at him. Adam felt his own face lift in a grin. He turned back to the pumpkin and hacked into it again. He needed the diversion. Mackenna was right. They had a big night ahead of them and working hard would stop his mind from wandering to what he'd much rather be doing with her.

Mackenna crept across the room and gathered her clothes in the moonlight. Adam's gentle snores continued behind her as she slipped into the chilly bathroom. Yesterday had been sheer bliss. They'd slept in after Saturday night's late dinner and welcomed the new day with the gentle rediscovery of each other's bodies. Then they'd had the rest of the day and the whole property, totally to themselves.

She'd taken him with her to feed the dogs and the chooks, to check irrigators and sheep, a perfect day followed by an early night. She smiled, wishing she was still cuddled up next to him but there were sheep to take to market and Cam would be here soon.

Mackenna hadn't given the illusive working man a thought since Adam's return but she needed to get her head around what to do about him. Trouble was, she didn't know. If he was helping himself to small amounts of grain, a roll of wire, a bottle of chemical, it would be hard to prove unless she caught him in the act. Everything she'd heard about Cam was possible, except him being in her bed, and there was no way in hell that would happen.

She pulled her jacket tight against the early morning air. The pup danced around her feet excitedly and King walked steadily at her side as she made her way to the yards where the mob of crossbreeds were beginning to stir. No sign of Cam, so she started the truck and sat watching the gauges while it warmed up.

“Damn it,” she muttered. The fuel gauge hardly moved.

She stomped around to keep her circulation moving while the diesel flowed. In the light of her torch she could see the storage tank needed refilling as well – too many people using it and no-one keeping an eye on the levels. She wondered if her mum had booked the tanker to call before she left.

Mackenna climbed back into the truck to shift it to the sheep yards. Something Garry had said during crutching lurked on the edge of her memory. A guy that looked like Cam in a truck that looked like theirs on the other side of Naracoorte and he was carting sheep. That was the weekend Cam had helped his mate shift house and the truck had been gone for several days. She tried to remember what jobs Cam had been doing around that time. So much had happened since then it was too hard to pinpoint what he'd been doing on a particular day.

She backed the truck up to the ramp and looked over the gauges again, her eyes lingering on the odometer. She pulled a notebook from her pocket and scribbled the numbers. What she thought she would do with them she had no idea.

“Hey, boss.”

“Bloody hell!” She jumped at Cam's cheery greeting.

“Thought you'd be pleased to see me.” His face tilted in that lazy smile.

Mackenna glanced around. “I didn't hear you arrive.”

“I got in late last night.” He nodded over his shoulder. “Stayed at the house.”

She peered past him. The house was a distant shape against the lightening sky. There were no lights on and there hadn't been when she'd let the dogs out. She hadn't noticed Cam's ute anywhere. It felt odd him being in her family home when no-one else was there, but not surprising. He did have a bed there.

“Thought you might have slept there too.”

His comment drew her eyes back to his. “I live in the Gatehouse now.”

“I know, but to keep an eye on things while your folks are away.” His smile stretched wider and he leant closer. “There's only the two of us.”

Mackenna stiffened. The gossip Chris had related from the pub no longer seemed funny with Cam looming over her. This wasn't the time or the place to mention it – if she was going to mention it at all.

“And plenty of work to do.” She stepped briskly past him and rolled her ankle on a loose stone. The pain was swift and sharp. Well aware he'd be watching, she bit her lip and kept walking as if nothing had happened.

“Let's get these sheep loaded,” she said over her shoulder.

They were finished in good time. Cam tried to engage her in conversation but she kept her responses brief. They didn't have time to waste or he wouldn't make the markets, but there was also the part of her that no longer wanted to make idle conversation with him. Mackenna was so glad Adam had come back. She wasn't frightened of Cam, but in light of the things she'd heard in the last few days he gave her the creeps.

She saw him off. He took King with him and she kept Prince. The young dog was proving to be a quick learner but he wasn't ready for the complexity of sheep markets yet.

“Come on, boy,” she said. “We've got work to do.”

Prince yapped in delight from the tray of the ute as Mackenna made her way around the property. She glanced up at the clear sky. They'd taken a risk with the couple of paddocks they'd seeded early and it seemed it would be money down the drain now.

She gave a quick thought to Adam back at the Gatehouse. He would be up and she was getting hungry. She just wanted to check the pivot irrigator that had been giving them trouble, and even before she got close she could see something was wrong. One end was at a funny angle and water trickled from it. It should have turned itself off.

Mackenna jumped from the ute and squelched through the sodden ground to the machine. A quick glance told her the problem was much more major than the O ring Cam had replaced last week. Expensive as well, she was sure.

She ducked down to take another look at the motor and her hat fell into the mud.

“Damn it!” She whistled up Prince. Breakfast might have to be a piece of toast on the way into town.

Adam was flicking through her pile of rural magazines when she got back.

“Uh-oh!” he said. “I hope that frown's not for me?”

“I didn't realise I was frowning.” She reached around him and gave him a hug, nestling into his back and smelling the freshness of his skin. She closed her eyes a moment. Nothing seemed as bad when she was with him.

He pulled her onto his lap.

“What's up?”

“One of the irrigators has broken down. I think it will mean big dollars.” She kissed him. “I have to go into town.”

“I'll come with you.” His eyes sparkled and he rubbed the end of her nose with his finger. “You might want to wash your face first.

Being a Kiwi I like the mud look, but I'm not sure how it goes down around here.”

He chuckled and Mackenna had to drag herself away from him. She'd never had any trouble getting on with work but with Adam around it was suddenly proving difficult.

Louise settled herself into the chair, glanced once more at the man behind the reception desk and began to type. She hadn't planned to use a computer while they were away but with some time to herself she decided to email the children and her sisters. Last week she'd posted cards from Wellington but there was little point sending more from Queenstown. They would probably beat them home. She sent an email instead, giving a quick rundown of their South Island travels and a bit about their farm visit to appease Mackenna.

Lyle had been so interested and got on so well with the bloke who ran the place, he'd gone back to see more today but not Louise. She'd come on holiday to get away from the farm.

She peeped around the monitor. The receptionist was talking on the phone. Louise inhaled deeply then opened a new web page. She quickly typed their banking username and password. She hoped these communal computers were safe. She'd only ever done the online banking from home but with time on her hands she wanted to check the accounts. The last payment for their wool should be close. It would make her feel better about what she'd just spent in the shops if she could see a large credit rather than only debits.

She gasped as the list of their farm bank accounts opened on the screen. They had been low when she left but the working account was almost empty. She clicked on the link, fear rising in her throat. It should have plenty of money in it for day-to-day expenses. She'd always calculated how much they needed to live on with accuracy. The backup account was low but that was to be expected with this holiday, Patrick's car and Mackenna's Gatehouse. The working account should have enough to last them another month.

Her eyes flicked down the screen as the detailed account page opened. The figures wobbled and she blinked, forcing her eyes to focus. She looked at the list of payments and it dawned on her.

“Crutching,” she muttered.

She glanced down at the shopping bags at her feet. She'd used her personal account, money she'd been saving a long time for this holiday but the excitement of her purchases had soured. They'd be living on the overdraught until the wool cheque arrived, and that would be needed to pay the seeding bills.

She logged out of the site. Why had she looked at their bank accounts today? It was only a few more days until they went home. This holiday was so special, spending time together, just the two of them, away from the farm. Just what the doctor ordered for Lyle – for both of them really.

Louise picked up her bags and headed for the lift. The doors closed and she couldn't help but smile. They'd giggled and kissed like teenagers in this same lift only last night. They'd both had a few drinks but it had been more than the alcohol. For a short time Louise had felt the euphoria of no responsibility – no meals to get, no accounts
to keep, no community fundraisers – and a husband who had found his mojo again.

She kept the smile in place as she entered their room with its beautiful view across the lake and she felt her strength return. She wasn't going to let money spoil this holiday, but it was a good opportunity to discuss the future. They'd made a succession plan when Lyle had been sick but they'd done nothing about it. A united front was needed. Lyle had to agree.

By the time she heard his card in the lock she had a strategy all mapped out.

She poured him a beer and greeted him at the door.

“What's this?” he said. “Are you intending to get me drunk again, Lou?”

“I thought we'd have a few drinks for our last night in this pretty spot,” she chided, “not an orgy.”

“No.” He winked. “That was last night.”

She smiled and picked up her wine. It was hardly an orgy but last night had certainly been pleasurable.

“I've ordered a meal from room service,” she said. “We can enjoy the view, relax, talk . . .” Her voice trailed off.

Lyle was watching her closely. “What's up?”

“Nothing.” She stood at the window. The light was fading and the first lights were beginning to glint across the water. “I felt like a quiet night before our last leg back to Christchurch.”

“And?”

“And what?”

“I can tell there's something going on in that head of yours.”

Louise sighed and slid onto one of the dining chairs. “I checked the bank accounts today.”

“Oh?” Lyle came to join her. “What's up?”

“The accounts are nearly in the red.”

“There'll be a wool cheque soon.”

“I know, but that will be swallowed up.”

Lyle draped his arm across her shoulders. “Stop fretting. We've got good credit with the bank. We've been in overdraught plenty of times before.”

“I know that.” A surge of anger loosened her resolve to keep calm. “We had been steadily staying in the black before Mackenna started having her grand ideas about improvements. Now we owe money for stock, money for land, money everywhere including that Gatehouse idea of hers. We should have insisted it be kept a simple working man's cottage. Then there's Cam's wages. If Mackenna hadn't made all these changes, we wouldn't need a working man and – ”

“Whoa! Steady up, Lou.” Lyle put both hands in the air. “Where has all this come from?”

“We made our wills but we've done nothing about them.”

“Wills are for dead people.” He grinned. “We're not dead.”

“Be serious, Lyle,” she snapped. “We should be taking more time for enjoying life like this, not worrying about money.”

He sighed. “What is it that you want?”

“I want our kids to know about our plans so they can decide what to do.”

“Haven't you mapped out their future as well?”

Louise regretted her outburst when she saw the anger smouldering in his eyes. This wasn't going as she'd planned. She softened her tone.

“Of course not but if they knew about the future we've planned for, they could factor that into their own plans.”

“But they're not getting a choice.”

Louise frowned at him. “What do you mean?”

“Even after all that's happened since my heart attack, you want to cut Mackenna out.”

“Not cut her out – ”

“No matter how you say it, we have cut her out.” He thrust back his chair and stood at the window. His back was ramrod straight. His words came out in a murmur. “It's her inheritance, Louise.”

“If Mackenna keeps spending like she has been there will be no farm to inherit.” Louise stepped up beside him. “We have a son, Lyle. It's his right.”

“He doesn't want it. Mackenna's the one who wants to farm.”