Morgan's Law (35 page)

She found Tash in the front room of the pub, microphone in hand, talking to an audience of women, and she quietly blended into the back row to wait.

‘So we all know our men are the last ones to ever go and see a doctor,' Tash was saying. ‘They'd rather cut off an arm before they admit they need help, right?' There was a general murmur of assent from the audience. ‘Well, that has to change.' Even from the rear of the room Sarah could see the quiet determination and fire in Tash's eyes. ‘We can't leave it up to them any more. It's time we dragged them to the doctor's surgery, kicking and screaming if we have to. Starting next month, we're going to have a team of counsellors coming out for a week to assess what we need. From this, we're hoping we can organise other professionals from Centrelink and a district nurse who will come out once a month for appointments—think of that, no more three- or four-hour car trips to see a GP, or to talk to a counsellor, or to try to sort out finances with Centrelink!'

‘Counsellors? As in shrinks? How the hell am I going to get my old man in to see a shrink?' a woman in the middle of the room said loudly.

‘
Some
are mental health workers, but there will also be financial counsellors, as well as Centrelink officers who will help sort out what entitlements are available,' Tash explained. ‘I know it's going to be hard, but for your families' sake you need to do this. Make your husbands go along to these appointments with you. It's not just for them, this affects us all.' She searched the faces before her earnestly. ‘I thought I could handle Jamie's death alone . . . I mean, I'd always handled things alone. We have to be the strong ones, right? Because we know how much pressure men out here are under—they don't need to see us crying and falling apart to add to their worries.'

Heads nodded and Sarah realised for the first time how hard it must be on the women who stood beside their men and raised families in small farming communities. They lived and slept alongside their men, working from first light to late into the night then tossing and turning with worry about how they were going to pay back the bank when yet another crop failed. How hard it must be to keep their own anxieties hidden, to keep a smile on their faces for their children.

‘We've made a lot of progress with Cott & Co,' said Tash, ‘and the gin is going to make a big difference to this community, but it won't solve all our problems. Droughts aren't going to go away . . . and no doubt we'll have our fair share of floods too. We need to make sure our community can cope with these things without families falling apart under the weight of it all.'

Sarah felt a pride swelling in her chest—she knew how hard Tash had worked to make all this happen, how important it was to her.

‘We can't lose any more of our loved ones, but we will if we stand by and do nothing. We are the ones who have to address this issue, and we can—we can do anything, we're women.' Tash smiled and a laugh echoed through the room, followed by an uplifting round of applause that seemed to fill the room with an air of solidarity and hope.

It took a while for everyone to disperse but eventually the room emptied out and Sarah made her way over to Tash. Tash looked up, squealed and then threw herself into Sarah's arms. The two women hugged, and Sarah found herself unable to speak, she was so full of emotion. She hadn't been able to admit to herself just how much Tash and the other people she'd met in this small town had come to mean to her. She truly felt as though she were finally home.

Sarah looked at the people around her with a contented smile. Tash had barely stopped talking, pausing only to give orders to someone or sort out a glitch in the program. Jack was running the pub again now that Tash was too busy to handle the Royal by herself. He looked happy to be back doing what he loved.

An hour and her first decent cold beer later, Sarah took a leisurely stroll up the main street. It had been blocked off from traffic in order to allow space for stalls and amusement rides and she revelled in the sense of excitement and celebration. Her heart sank a little, though, when she noticed the two people heading towards her.

‘Sarah, how lovely to see you again,' said Carmel, smiling with genuine warmth.

‘Hello, Carmel,' said Sarah, then added warily, ‘Keith. How are you?'

‘Can't complain. Heard you're back for good?' his tone sounding grim.

‘I'm really looking forward to working on the board,' Sarah said, weighing up her words and deciding now was as good a time as any to get things out in the open. ‘I just want you to know that I haven't come back to make any claims on Burrapine. I realise my last visit may have put a bit of a strain on things, but I'd really like to get to know you all better.'

‘I don't take kindly to being blackmailed, and sure as hell not by some ring-in sheila,' said Keith. Carmel tried to stop him but Keith was having none of it. ‘Still, I had to admire the courage it took to do it. And the fact that it wasn't done for your own gain is something I guess I have to respect.'

A flood of relief poured through her as his words registered.

‘Don't think I'm going to forget it too soon, though,' he added gruffly.

‘Oh, be quiet, Keith. You've just got your nose out of joint because you didn't buy more shares while you had the chance,' Carmel said with a wink at Sarah.

Sarah looked at Keith in surprise as he cleared his throat noisily, then said, ‘Yeah, and thanks for the good word you put in for the boy.'

Sarah shook her head. ‘I don't know how much it helped. I just provided a statement. Whatever he may have done, he didn't deserve to be lumped in with those criminals. I hear he's coming home soon?'

‘Two more weeks,' said Carmel, a hint of a quiver behind her bright smile.

Trent hadn't escaped doing jail time, but the term he received was minimal compared to what he could have been given. The law had taken into account just how much he'd risked by helping set up the ringleaders. Sarah wondered how he'd go once he got back home. He'd stolen from his neighbours—betrayed his community. Only time would tell if they would be as forgiving as the law had been.

‘Kelly finally finished her degree.' Carmel said proudly.

Sarah smiled politely. She tried to stay openminded about her younger cousin—after all, she'd been wrong about Trent. Maybe Kelly would be all right when she grew up a little. ‘Well, I'll be working hard to make sure those shares pay off for you,' she said and Keith gave a half-amused grunt. ‘How's Albert doing?' she asked Carmel. She'd been writing to him and knew he'd been in hospital recently.

‘Not too good. He's withdrawn and spends most of his day out on the verandah just staring into the distance. Ruth and I don't know what to do with him any more. Maybe a visit from you will cheer him up.'

Sarah doubted it would make much difference. She knew the poor man had been absolutely devastated by his wife's betrayal. From the tone of his letters, she'd also wondered more than once if there wasn't something else behind this decline. Maybe the ghosts of his past had been reminding him that nothing is ever truly dead and buried.

‘Come out and see us as soon as you're settled in, love.'

‘I'll do that,' Sarah promised and gave Carmel's arm a gentle squeeze of gratitude. Maybe there was a chance she'd be able to get to know her family after all.

As Keith and Carmel strolled off, Sarah looked around at the crowd of locals; judging by the numbers, most of the surrounding districts had turned out to celebrate too. Even so, the face she was both hoping and dreading to see wasn't anywhere in sight.

After a while, Sarah decided she'd had enough of crowds and returned to the pub to get her car. She had something she needed to do. Somewhere she needed to be.

With each bump and crunch across the paddocks, she winced and mentally apologised to her poor car. Her BMW was not designed as an off-road vehicle but that couldn't be helped at the moment.

Pulling on the handbrake, Sarah climbed out of the car and walked towards the sound of water. The place was still the same, serene and beautiful. The cool shade of the trees and smell of fresh water filled her senses and her gaze settled upon the tall tree below the lip of the bank.

She smiled in delight when she saw the handcrafted bench at the base of the tree. Only one person would have put it there and her heart gave a tremble at the thought of him.

She placed her hand on the tree's trunk and something she could only describe as intense love and peace filled her. A brass plaque shone in the filtered rays of sunshine and a lump formed in her throat as she read the words
The Wishing Tree
beautifully engraved upon it, along with Rose's and William's dates of birth and death.

Not long after Sarah's return to London, Tash had called to tell her that William had died. She'd tried to call Adam to give him her condolences, but she hadn't been able to catch him and had left a rather dismal and inadequate voice message instead.

It seemed fitting to remember them both here where it had all begun. It was comforting to think that after all this time the two were finally free to be together. The wind whispered high above her and Sarah shut her eyes and listened, as though it were trying to speak to her.

The sound of footsteps broke her reverie, and Sarah held her breath as she waited for the approaching figure silhouetted against the bright sunlight. He was tall and broad-shouldered, a haze of dust hovering around him like a halo. For a long time he simply stood there, motionless, until Sarah lifted a hand to shade her eyes against the sun and said, ‘I'm sorry about your pop.' She waited as he strode easily down the bank to stand before her.

So often over the past months she'd pictured being this close to him, close enough to touch. The familiar scent of leather and sweat and something tantalisingly Adam teased her senses. She swallowed nervously but couldn't drag her gaze away from his.

‘What are you doing here?' he asked.

‘I . . .'
Just tell him, idiot
. But she couldn't just blurt out what she so desperately wanted to tell him. She'd left when he'd practically begged her not to; how could she expect to waltz back into his life and announce she was here to stay?

‘Is it true?'

‘Is what true?'

‘That you've quit your job.'

‘Ah, y-yes,' she stammered. ‘That's true.'

‘Why?'

‘You were right. Having it all didn't feel as good as I thought it would.'

‘So what are you doing back here?'

‘I wanted to come and . . . visit Gran. I couldn't find you at the house. I hoped you wouldn't mind if I came down here without asking.'

‘You know I wouldn't,' he told her and she heard the censure in his tone. ‘How long are you staying this time?'

‘That depends.'

‘On what?'

‘On how long my new position lasts for.'

‘So you've already lined up a new job then?'

Tash hadn't told him. Sarah's heart pounded painfully. What would he think of her staying? Oh God, what if he hated her now? There was only one way to do this, and that was quickly. ‘I've accepted a job on the board of Cott & Co.' Sarah held her breath as she waited for his reaction, but he just stared at her. ‘I know I hurt you when I left, Adam, and I'm sorry, that was the last thing I wanted to do, but I had to finish what I started before I could move on.'

‘What if you decide you want more than Negallan has to offer? What if you get bored?'

It was a fair question, but it stung a little to be quizzed as though she were some kind of goddamn flight risk. ‘Then I'll have to find something to occupy me.'

He stared at her in silence again and Sarah struggled to keep her nerve.

‘You taking applications?' he asked at last.

‘You applying?' she said.

‘Depends,' he replied, finally moving closer until she had to tilt her head right back to look up into his face.

‘On what?'

‘On what the pay's like.'

A slow smile touched the edge of her lips. ‘Terrible. But I hear there are some fringe benefits.'

‘Oh yeah? Like what?' He slid an arm around her waist and lowered his head. His mouth was a mere breath away from her own.

‘All the trouble you can handle.'

His slow sexy smile sent a shiver of excitement through her. ‘I like trouble.'

‘I know. You're weird like that,' she said, as high above them in the branches of the wishing tree a soft breeze moved among the leaves in gentle approval.