Right As Rain (4 page)

The snoring stopped instantly and the bedside light snapped on. She gaped in horror as the new working man sat up on the bed and propped there, blinking back at her.

“What the . . .?” he yelped.

“Sorry, I . . .” Mackenna lost her voice as he swung to his feet and she was confronted with a pair of Mickey Mouse boxers hanging loosely from his hips. She picked herself up from the tangle of clothing on the floor. His naked chest was a solid sixpack and with the stubble on his chin and the hair loosely swept to one side, he could have been a model – except for the ridiculous boxers.

“Lucky Gran gave me these boxers for my birthday. I usually sleep naked.”

Once again Mackenna was forced to look up at his face. A smile twitched on his lips – full plump lips. She focused on his crooked front teeth. She hadn't noticed them yesterday.

“Did you want something or is this a social call?” He was really grinning now.

“What are you doing here?”

“I work here.”

“In this bedroom?” She flicked a hand at the room. “It's for guests.”

“I guess that's another thing your parents haven't told you. Until the old house is fixed I use this room if I need to stay over. I've got a place in town but I got back late last night and was too tired to . . .”

“What old house?”

“The old stone place by the road.”

“That's mine,” Mackenna snapped.

“Whoa!” Cam put his hands in the air. “You'll need to take it up with them. Now since you've woken me up, I might as well get going.”

He reached past her for a towel that was slung over an open wardrobe door, his bare arms just centimetres from her.

“Mind if I go first in the shower?” he said.

He grinned and without waiting for an answer, stepped around her and out the door. His unwashed male scent wafted in the air. She wrinkled her nose. There was no way he was having her house. She turned on her heel and marched back to her bedroom. It appeared there were a lot of things her parents hadn't told her yet.

Yesterday there'd been little time for discussion. She'd tried to go over the stock logbook with her father but her mother had sent her to town on errands. When she got back she'd spent the rest of the afternoon checking sheep. Patrick may think he could follow directions but she'd found a gate not secure, more stock that needed top-up feed and a water trough not working properly. With this unseasonal burst of heat, that could be disastrous. She'd gone to look at the old place while she'd been out and about. Nothing more could be done to it until the roof went on. By the time she'd come inside, Patrick had headed into town, her mother had the evening meal ready and her father was full of questions about her trip. Now that she thought about it, they'd changed the subject when she'd asked why the old house wasn't finished.

She dressed quickly then paused to listen for sounds beyond her door. There was no way she wanted to run into a half-naked Cam in the passage. She made it to the kitchen, where her mother was cooking poached eggs for breakfast.

“What's going on with the old house, Mum?”

“Good morning to you too,” her mother said. “Can you get the juice and some glasses?”

She did as she was asked while keeping an eye on her mother. Louise wore one of Mackenna's old black aprons over a light shirt and three-quarter pants, prepared for housework and any jobs she may be called to assist with outside.

“That Cam guy seems to think he's going to live in it,” Mackenna said.

“We need a working man.”

“I agree. The job's been bigger than us for a while and with our plans for expansion – ”

“They've been put on hold.”

“I can understand that while I was away but now that I'm back – ”

“Mackenna!” Her mother's sharp tone cut her off again. “Your father's had a heart attack. We can't go back to how things were. Everything's changed.”

Mackenna frowned. “In what way?” She studied her mother's face as she waited for an answer.

Louise's eyes were bright. The weariness of yesterday was gone. Her hair with its neat strips of salt-and-pepper grey was brushed into the bob style she always wore and a touch of lipstick coloured her lips. All appeared normal. She turned away to check on the eggs.

“Mum?” Mackenna gripped the back of a chair in frustration. “Dad's doing okay isn't he, and I'm fit. Why do our plans for the future of Woolly Swamp have to change?”

Sounds of movement came from the passage.

“Not now,” her mother said as Patrick and then Cam arrived.

“Good morning, Louise,” Cam said. He turned to Mackenna. “And good morning to you . . . officially.”

She nodded her head and busied herself making toast. She didn't want him telling the rest of the family about her blundering into his bedroom.

“How's Lyle today?” Cam asked.

“Tired,” Louise said.

Mackenna felt a pang of guilt. She hadn't asked after her father.

“I'll take him some breakfast,” she said.

“No.” Louise wagged the spatula at her. “He's probably gone back to sleep. I'll make him something later. You don't need to ask him anything do you, Cam?”

“No. The roof iron is on the truck. I'll unload it this morning. Then we've got those rams to shift, Patrick.”

Mackenna watched in amazement as the hired help gave directions in the family kitchen. Her mother was right. Lots of things had changed but Mackenna would soon set that straight.

“Has Ted been out to test for worms?” she asked.

“Yes . . . well no,” Patrick said. “Dad asked me to call him last week but he was away. His replacement came out, your old friend from Morning Star Station, Hugh McDonald.”

“I didn't know he was back.” Mackenna hadn't seen Hugh in a long time. They'd been very close once, doing everything together with their mutual friend Carol – a formidable gang of three for many years. She gave a wistful thought to those carefree days before focusing back on Patrick. “What did he say?”

“They've got worms.”

“What kind of worms?” she asked, aware that both the men had been served eggs and toast while nothing had been set before her.

“What difference does it make?” Patrick asked.

“There's an extra test to tell what kind of worms so we get the specific drench.”

“Drench is drench.” Cam chuckled and rolled his eyes at Patrick.

“No, it's not,” Mackenna persisted.

“It costs more for that test,” Patrick said. “Dad didn't say, so I didn't ask for it.”

“It will cost a lot more if the drench you got isn't the right one.” Mackenna was annoyed. Between Patrick and Cam, things were obviously not being done properly. “I'll give Hugh a call.”

“I can do it,” Patrick said. The colour was rising in his cheeks.

“Why don't you leave it to the blokes, Mackenna?” Her mother patted her on the shoulder. “You still haven't shown me your holiday pictures.”

“I will later. My camera's in the car.” Mackenna had been so busy yesterday, her car was still by the gate where she'd left it. She hadn't unpacked a thing. “Bloody hell, my car!” She jumped up from the table.

“Mackenna!” her mother rebuked. “I won't tolerate bad language in the house.”

“What's the matter?” Patrick asked.

“I found a dead lamb in the paddock on my way in yesterday,” she snapped. “I put it in my boot.”

She turned away from their inquiring eyes and lurched across the kitchen. The smirk she'd seen on Cam's face only deepened her sour mood. She stopped as another thought came to her. She turned to her brother. “Where's Alfie?”

“Who's Alfie?”

“Our alpaca,” she said. “If he'd been with the ewes a fox wouldn't have killed one in the first place.”

“Dad didn't say anything about an alpaca.” Patrick looked to his mother. “I thought he was dead.”

“Don't get on your high horse, Mackenna,” Louise said. “We haven't been home, and Patrick didn't know about Alfie.”

“We've had him over a year,” Mackenna said. “I'd better go and shift him in. And hold off on that drench until I can find out more.”

Conscious of three sets of eyes glaring at her, she swept out the door.

Mackenna lathered her hands a second time with soap and scrubbed them in the warm water. Not many things made her squeamish but the smell of that lamb after a day in the heat had made her gag. It had taken several attempts to remove the foul mess from her boot. Thank goodness she'd put it in the plastic bag. She'd moved her car to the shade of a tree and left the boot and doors open to air it.

While she'd been busy outside, she'd noticed the truck moving down the track towards the old place. She rubbed her hands dry on a towel and headed back to the kitchen with more confidence. At least Cam would be out of the house. Maybe she'd be able to pin her mother down.

She was surprised to find her father the only occupant. He was sitting at the table with a bowl of cereal. He looked up from the pile of mail he was reading and smiled.

“Morning, Mack.”

She moved swiftly to give him a kiss on the cheek. It was a relief to see him looking more like the father she knew. It was only the gaunt face and the small dish of assorted pills beside his glass of juice that was a reminder of his ill health.

“The eggs are in the oven,” he said. “Your mother's gone to feed the dogs and the chooks.”

“Patrick should be doing that.”

“He's helping Cam unload the roofing iron.”

Mackenna put her plate of eggs on the table and sat down beside him. “That was all supposed to happen the week after I left.” She spoke casually, wanting to know all that had or apparently hadn't happened in her absence but not wanting to push him.

“I took sick and didn't chase them. You know what these tradies are like. They're juggling several jobs and it's the squeaky wheel that gets the work done first. At least the bathroom's finished. We just need the roof back on the rest so we can finish the painting.”

“Well now I'm home they'd better get on with it.” She took a mouthful of egg. It was rubbery and barely warm. She ate the soggy toast instead.

“You don't mind staying in your old room?” her dad asked. “The old house will make a perfect working man's quarters. We'll leave the kitchen for now. It's fairly basic but Cam can eat most of his meals with us.”

Mackenna's heart sank. “I've been working on a plan for the old place while I've been away. There's so much I want to talk over with you.”

“I know.”

“Like why we've got lambs a month early.”

“That was a surprise for me too. I think I've . . .” He stopped at the sound of boots dropping outside the back door then leaned in closer and lowered his voice. “Your mother's taking my heart trouble pretty hard. I took on Cam as much to keep her happy as anything. I'll be back on my feet soon. Just go with things as they are for the moment.”

That was rich coming from him. Her father was always busy and in control. It had taken several years of working together before he listened and took some of her suggestions for their property seriously.

“I'm not sure what to do,” she said. “Everything's out of whack.”

“I know, love.” He patted her hand. “Officially you're still on holidays. Relax.”

“Mackenna, I hope you're not bothering your father with work talk.” Louise eyed them both closely as she came in the door carrying a bowl of eggs.

“Just hearing about her holiday, Lou. The jetboat ride and white-water rafting in New Zealand sound great.”

Mackenna looked at her father wondering how he'd come up with that. He gave her a wink and then she noticed the postcard she'd sent from Queenstown was on the top of his pile of mail.

“It was fantastic. There was so much to do there.” She let out a sigh. Her sadness over Adam's rejection had made her head for home. In light of all this, perhaps she should have stayed away longer.

Louise returned from her walk to collect the paper and stepped back into the cool of the house. She paused for a moment letting the air settle around her and listened. She couldn't hear any movement from within. She stuck her head around the kitchen door but there was no-one there. The mail Lyle had been reading was still on the table. He'd had another restless night, and his tossing and turning had kept her awake too. Perhaps he'd gone back to bed. Louise felt a pang of envy. Wouldn't she love to sleep in, have someone wait on her and no responsibilities – just for a while?

She moved quietly along the passage to the first bedroom door and peered in. The bed was the rumpled mess he'd left behind when he'd got up this morning but there was no Lyle. Nor was he in his favourite chair in the lounge. Her heart began to thump. Ever since the day she'd found him slumped in that chair, clutching his chest, she imagined it would happen again, but next time he'd be dead. Sometimes, when he'd been dozing there, she'd crept up to him and watched for the rise and fall of his chest. The doctor had been reassuring after this last stent had been put in, but it made no difference to Louise. She was terrified of losing her husband and watched him like a hawk.

She hurried along the passage checking all the rooms. The three other bedrooms were in various forms of disarray. Neither of her children had learnt to make a bed once they got out of it and apparently neither had Cam. The rarely used dining room was empty and Lyle wasn't in the bathroom. He must have gone outside.

She went through the back door and looked across the garden towards the sheds. The air shimmered in the heat. Summer was officially over but this week had been another hot one and the pattern seemed set to continue for a while.