Lockie strode towards them along the half-finished fence line, hair turned to bronze by the strong light. Occasionally he tested the wire’s tension with an expert flick of his finger. He looked good, fitter than ever, and since his promotion to station manager, there was a newfound authority in his bearing.
Her father acknowledged Lockie with a nod, then stared down at the shallow soupy water. ‘I remember,’ he said, ‘before the dam up at Hopeton. Before the droughts and the carp and the irrigators . . . well, you could see the bottom of the river. Like glass, the water was. You could see the yabbies and the dragons chasing after them. You could see the catfish building nests, guarding little pebble rings on the riverbed.’
‘Catfish have been gone for years,’ said Nina.
‘You couldn’t see them in that muck, even if they were there,’ he said. ‘Breaks your heart to see the Bunyip sink so low. Was a time she flowed clear through the wetlands and into the Barwon, on to the Darling and down the Murray to the sea. Just look at her now.’ He spat in the dust. ‘Get any drier, and she’ll stop flowing altogether.’
For a while they all stood silent on the bank. What was there to add? Dad had said it all. Lockie rolled a cigarette. ‘We won’t get anything done, moping around like this.’
It was true enough, and they got back to work. Lockie and Dad rammed pickets, dug holes and set posts, while Nina strung wire. She stopped to watch her father working. The move to town hadn’t made him soft like he’d said it would. He was still lean as the fence post he was tamping in. But it had made him happier. The worry once etched into his face had faded and been replaced with smile lines.
Lockie was observing her. ‘Bludger,’ he said with a smile.
Dad looked up at Lockie, who was leaning on his shovel. ‘Reckon that’s the pot calling the kettle black.’
Nina tightened the ratchet on the strainer, watching the grips walk up the wire like magic until it was taut as a bowstring. She liked fencing. It was a hard job, but there was something immensely satisfying, almost therapeutic, about the process of connecting things together. Every fence was different, and at the end of the day you had something substantial and useful to show for your effort. It wasn’t like feeding hay or watering trees or washing dishes. It didn’t need doing all over again tomorrow. A well-built fence stood day in, day out, as an enduring monument to a good day’s work.
And today the job seemed easy, thanks to the extra hands on deck. Lockie had jackarooed at Red Gums way back when, and fitted in like one of the family. She’d missed working together like this, him crooning his country songs and Dad cracking jokes. Everything seemed much more manageable than when she was on her own. She barely noticed the sweat or the heat or the flies, and by the time Mum arrived in the afternoon with an esky full of lunch and cold drinks, they’d finished the stretch right down to the old bridge.
Nina sat in the shade, back against a gum tree, while Mum doled out sandwiches. She was a tall woman, grown thick at the waist, solid but not fat. The colours of her sleeveless floral dress brightened up the grey-green riverbank, just like Mum’s presence always brightened up any occasion. Dad took a folding chair from the ute and set it up beside Nina. Mum thanked him and settled into it. She brushed back a wisp of steel-grey hair that had escaped from the rough bun beneath her wide straw hat. On impulse Nina stood up and gave her a hug. Mum was the heart of the family, and that position bestowed on her a kind of dignity and quiet beauty that Nina loved. Jinx, who also adored Mum, trotted over to lay his head in her lap.
‘How are things at Drover’s, Mum?’
‘Store’s doing a roaring trade. We can’t truck in enough feed to fill our deliveries.’
‘That’s good,’ said Nina.
‘You’d think so, wouldn’t you?’ Her mother smiled. ‘Trouble is, half the customers can’t afford to pay their accounts. And you can guess how your father takes their hard-luck stories. Straight to his heart, that’s how.’ Nina placed a hand on her mother’s shoulder. Dad could hold a grudge, but he could also be generous to a fault, and she loved him for it. Mum placed her own hand over Nina’s. ‘Don’t worry, darling. We’re doing fine compared to a lot of people.’
Dad and Lockie leaned against trees, downing mugs of chilled lemon tea. ‘How are things out your way, Lockie?’ asked Mum.
‘Same as everywhere,’ he said. ‘Paddocks darn near dried up and blown away. Lowest yields for twenty years and most of that downgraded to feed wheat. Now we’re destocking like crazy, in spite of rock-bottom prices.’
‘That’s a shame,’ said Mum. ‘How are your folks?’
‘Good thanks, Ellen,’ said Lockie. ‘Went up to see them for Christmas. Asked Nina along but she wouldn’t come at it.’
‘Oh, Nina, why not? It would have been lovely for the two of you.’
Nina stayed silent. She’d asked Lockie to spend Christmas at Red Gums too. He’d declined, but that apparently didn’t rate a mention. Why was she always the one meant to go to him? Why didn’t it work the other way around? Today was the first time he’d been to Red Gums for weeks.
‘I’ve an idea,’ said Mum. ‘Why not go back with Lockie for a few days? We could look after things, couldn’t we, Jim?’
Dad nodded, Lockie looked hopeful and Nina squirmed. She didn’t want to go back with Lockie. She wanted to experiment with the pecans’ irrigation flows, spend a whole day riding the boundaries, head back to Billabong in search of painted snipe. And then there was Sophie. She’d promised the girl a riding lesson. ‘Sorry.’ She hated to be put on the spot like this. ‘I’ll be flat out this week.’ Lockie’s face fell. ‘Perhaps you could stay a bit longer?’
‘Nah, I’m training a couple of young blokes,’ he said. ‘Gotta be there.’
Nina sighed. Of course he had to be there. Just like she had to be here.
‘You can’t expect Lockie to drop everything,’ said Mum. ‘Sometimes compromise is called for.’
‘Except I’m the one doing all the compromising,’ said Nina. ‘Why is Lockie’s job more important than mine?’ Mum harrumphed softly and Lockie looked dark. Nina wiped the sweat from her forehead with the back of her work glove and drank the last of her tea. It had long been a sore point between Lockie and her, particularly since he’d asked her to move in with him. It wasn’t like she hadn’t been tempted sometimes. All the moments sitting alone on the verandah as darkness fell. When she woke by herself in the morning after a restless night. But how could she run Red Gums properly if she didn’t live here?
‘I meant to tell you, Nina,’ said Mum. ‘Eva Langley’s had some sort of a fall.’
‘Eva?’ Nina sat forward. ‘Is she all right?’
‘Nothing broken, thank goodness. Just a bit shaken. Margie said she was admitted to the hospital overnight for observation, but she’s back at the home now.’
‘I need to see her.’ Nina stood up. ‘Would you mind if I flew up this afternoon?’
‘If it’s okay with Dad.’
‘Go on,’ said her father. ‘Me and Lockie have got this covered, right, Lockie?’
‘Reckon so.’ Lockie looked down at his big flat hands for a moment. Blood seeped from a wire cut, and his nails were ragged and broken. ‘I’ll drive Nina back to the house if you want.’
‘Would you, Lockie?’ Mum fanned her rosy face with her hat. ‘I fancy just sitting in the shade for a bit. There’s a hint of a breeze down here by the river.’
‘Righto.’ Lockie climbed into his truck. ‘Got your stuff?’
Nina hopped in beside him. ‘Don’t have any stuff,’ she said. ‘I travel light.’
Jinx jumped up at the cabin door, scratching and barking. Dad took hold of his collar. ‘Why don’t you stay with Kate tonight?’ he said. ‘Don’t like the idea of you flying back when you’re tired.’
Nina leaned out the window and kissed him. ‘Thanks, Dad. I’ll see how I feel. Don’t forget to feed Jinx. And could you give the horses some hay?’
They waved goodbye and took off, dust pluming behind them. Lockie spun the wheel to avoid a deep corrugation. ‘Seems like forever since I’ve seen you,’ he said. Nina looked out the window, thinking, Whose fault is that? ‘And now you go haring off to Moree without me.’
‘I’d hardly call visiting an old lady in a nursing home haring off.’
‘Nah, of course not. Sorry, it’s just that I’ve missed you.’
‘And I’ve missed you. If only we weren’t both so busy all the time.’
‘How long you been running this place on your own now?’ asked Lockie.
‘Five years.’
‘That long?’ Lockie moved his grip on the wheel, flexing the sinews of his forearms. ‘It’s been a while since I had a good look round. You’ve worked miracles, you know that? Jim managed well enough, but you’ve really made the land sing. That stretch by the river, for instance. And those orchards? Going gangbusters, despite the drought, despite the Bunyip being over-allocated to buggery.’
She shot him a pleased smile. Lockie was a shrewd and experienced farmer, well respected throughout the district, someone who didn’t pull any punches. He didn’t often hand out praise like this, and it meant a lot.
‘It’s going to be tough in the future to survive out here,’ said Nina. ‘The climate’s changing, and we’ve got to change with it. Better ways with water, different crops like my pecans, different livestock even.’ Her words tumbled out in an enthusiastic rush. ‘Carbon farming, putting native trees back on cleared land. There are big grants now for restoring riverbanks. They actually give you money.’ She stopped to catch her breath. ‘Problem is, people are still looking in the rear-view mirror.’
‘You’ll get no arguments from me,’ said Lockie. ‘Out Timboon way they planted ten thousand trees to reduce salinity and discovered they could claim carbon credits for them. Talk about a bonus. Hard to get your head around all the new opportunities sometimes.’ They turned into the track by the dam paddock. Monty pounded along the fence like a mad thing, keeping pace with the truck, looking for all the world like he still belonged on the racetrack. ‘One thing I do know,’ said Lockie. ‘Those bloody cotton growers are ruining it for everybody. What’s the point of busting a gut to conserve water when those guys waste ten times more than we can save? They’ll put us all out of business before they’re through.’
Nina nodded. She looked at Lockie’s rugged face in profile, the ginger stubble on his chin, the thoughtful deep-set eyes, the copper hair brightened by the sun. A handsome man, and a good and clever one. Why didn’t her pulse pound for him, the way it did for Ric? Something was missing between them lately, some sort of passion. Like they’d grown too comfortable with each other and had stopped trying.
The truck pulled up at the house and they both got out. Lockie took off his hat and turned the hose in the yard on a fraction. He drank from the end and then let it trickle over his head and face, wetting his hat before plonking it back on his head.
‘Want a proper cold drink?’ asked Nina. ‘One from the fridge?’
‘I’d better get back,’ he said. ‘We’re one man down now, remember?’
‘Thanks, Lockie. I owe you one.’
‘More than one actually.’ He kicked aimlessly at the bone-dry ground. ‘I heard Ric Bonelli’s back.’
‘That’s right,’ said Nina. ‘He’s moved in across the river . . . with his daughter, Sophie.’
‘Yeah, his daughter. I heard about that too.’ Despite his protestation about having to get back, he seemed in no hurry. What was he waiting for? But she knew. Of course she did. She just didn’t want to have that conversation right now. She didn’t know what she’d say.
‘He’s got quite a reputation apparently,’ said Lockie.
‘Your point?’ She could hear the defiant edge to her voice. ‘I can look after myself.’
‘Course you can.’ He pulled her close and ran a finger down her dirty cheek. ‘Are you coming next weekend for the rodeo? I’ve got tickets for Troy Cassar-Daley Saturday night.’
She ducked from his arms. ‘But the organic field day is next Saturday. You said you’d come. I’m doing a presentation on pecans.’
‘Shit, I forgot. Can’t you get out of it?’
‘I don’t want to get out of it.’
He groaned and pulled her back to him. ‘Okay, I’ll come. Pity though. Those tickets are scarce as hen’s teeth.’
‘Go,’ she said. ‘Don’t waste them.’
‘You sure?’ He raised his brows, inspecting her face. ‘You won’t mind?’
‘Nope.’ Nina looked away. Lockie gently turned her chin and kissed her, long and slow. She closed her eyes, but the kiss was a dud. Disappointment about the field day, or something more?
He climbed behind the wheel. ‘See you. Fly safe.’
The truck took off, crawling its way around the house so it didn’t raise too much dust. Nina watched it go, turning Lockie’s words over in her mind. Ric had quite a reputation, did he? Well, so what? She shook her head to clear it and hurried inside. What Ric did had nothing to do with her any more.