Hana peered at the photograph, knitting her brow in concentration at what she saw in the digital screen of her phone. They lay on the bed and chatted, the imposing Du Rose men. Logan was half-propped against the pillows, his feet crossed at the ankles and his toes still touching the footboard. Tama lay next to him, his head bowed so that his uncles could talk over the top of him, Wiremu cuddled up on his chest. The young man held his mobile phone over the top of Wiri’s head and watched something on YouTube. His body leaned in towards Ryan and their heads almost touched. They were both about to laugh at something. Nev perched beside Ryan, not relaxed or stretched out but half-sitting with one long leg reaching the floor. His face was turned towards Logan. Nev’s features were frozen in a frown and Logan’s enquiring; a snapshot in time. They had been discussing something to do with the Charolaise herd. They were all alike, identical peas in a pod. Their uniform was the wavy dark hair and piercing grey eyes. Hana saw just by looking that they were brothers and nephews. Ryan’s head was slightly turned away from the camera lens but the likeness was overpowering.
Hana zoomed in and examined something. “I would never have got away with taking a photo like that,” she said to her daughter. “How did they not notice what you were doing?”
Phoenix looked up from her task. She unwound a toilet roll with delicate fingers and settled it gently into a cardboard box for her toy horse to sleep in. It was wasteful, but she had asked so nicely and it seemed essential for her game. “Photo,” Phoenix repeated in her silky voice, busy making her fake straw comfy for Fluffy. She patted it into the corners already aware of how hard it was for a horse to rise from a lying position. Her olive face creased in concentration as she made sure that her companion wouldn’t get cast and die in the night because he couldn’t get up again in the smooth bedding. She had forgotten about the quick snaps she took on her mother’s phone and Hana cheerfully deleted the close up of Logan’s sock and the one the little girl had clambered over Nev to capture; Wiri’s nostrils.
“How can a baby work an iPhone?” Hana mused. “I didn’t even know how to turn the camera on.”
“Camera on!” Suddenly Phoenix was interested.
“No,” Hana said with a decisive edge. “Mummy’s camera.”
“Mama’s camera.” Phoenix held her tiny hand out hopefully. Hana shook her head.
“Another time maybe. Come on, Fluffy needs some tea before bed. He looks hungry.”
Phoenix felt torn. Hana saw her working through the dilemma in her mind and then decide that her horse’s needs were paramount. “Pees carry ‘im?” she asked her mother, pointing to the box. She looked anxious.
Phoenix sat at the centre island on a bar stool and Fluffy balanced on the one next to her. His furry face poked over the edge of the box, his head at a jaunty angle as it rested on the smooth surface of the work top. A raw carrot sat on a plate in front of him untouched. Hana finished her dinner, reheated shepherd’s pie and moved her plate gently to the side so she could drink her cup of tea. Phoenix spooned the mince and mash into her mouth eagerly. She beamed at Hana with the mixture in her mouth and teeth and Hana smiled and gently suggested she closed her mouth until she had swallowed. “Fuffy eat cawot,” Phoenix told her toy and patted his forehead gently.
Hana slid her phone out of her pocket and peeked at the photo again under the counter. She nagged Logan for reading his emails during mealtimes and felt like a hypocrite. A glance at Phoenix found her nibbling at the carrot. The chance photograph was both revealing and damning. It was a beautiful snap of a family scene and would look amazing as a record of the Du Rose poster boys. Hana would get a copy to Will for the archives. Its unforced naturalness was appealing, but it also caused her heart to clench in pain. It was obvious who Ryan’s father was. The likeness was unmistakable.
“Where Daddy?” Phoenix asked and Hana slipped her phone back into her pocket.
“He’s sorting something out with Uncle Nev,” she replied. “Something important.”
“Daddy no more beeds?” the little girl asked, compassion in her eyes. She put her fingers up to her button nose and winced. “Dat sore.”
Hana smiled. “All gone. Daddy’s all better now.” She wished it were true.
“All better now,” Phoe repeated and beamed happily, her little world faithfully restored. She pointed a delicate finger at her friend, “Fuffy like cawot. Phoe like cawot.”
“I think Fluffy’s full up now. How about you help him out?” Hana suggested and the child gave her a coy look, reaching for the bright orange vegetable without breaking eye contact with her mother. Once it was in her hand she leaned into the horse’s face. “I helpin’,” she whispered and took loud, crunchy bites.
Hana bathed Phoenix, a happy, splashy affair which proved the necessity of the wet room design which Logan had insisted on. The excess water ran towards a dip in the tiled floor and exited though a plug hole in the corner of the room. Hana shut the door afterwards and left the room to dry itself without her frantic intervention with towels and effort. She was determined to enjoy time with her daughter, remembering how Isobel’s appearance had robbed Bodie of her time, attention and smiles for far too long. “Maybe that’s what’s wrong with him,” she mused as Phoenix popped her head through the neck of her pyjama top. “He feels hard done by.”
“Dum by,” Phoenix repeated.
The darkness imposed upon the floor length windows as Hana read Phoenix a story. The little bears in the picture book were finally put to bed by their frantic bear mother and tucked up for the night. The moral of the story was ‘do as you’re told’ but Phoenix wouldn’t realise that for a few years yet. “Cow,” the little girl said and turned Fluffy’s face to see what she was looking at. Hana shook her head.
“No cows, babe. Just bears.”
“Cow,” Phoenix insisted and popped her thumb from her mouth and pointed with it. “Cow.”
Hana followed the direction of the wet thumb and gasped, instinctively clutching her stomach to shield her son. The slightly crossed eyes of one of the large shaggy white cows stared in at her, its hooves planted firmly on the scrubby grass outside. Logan had raised the foundations of the house so that the high deck lined up with the bottom of the doors. The beast’s head and shoulders were visible above the rail which ran the length of the deck, the only thing stopping the animal coming right up to the window.
“Get Daddy nen?” Phoenix asked. “Naughty cow not ‘lowed in Daddy-garden.”
Hana stood up slowly and the animal’s eyes widened. Its ears flicked.
“Calfie!” Phoenix squealed and it snorted and jumped away from the window. Phoenix beat Hana to the ranch slider and put her hands and nose against the glass. Her nappy showed through the back of her elasticated pyjama bottoms. “Baby one!” she danced with happiness. The tiny animal tottered behind its white mother on pipe-cleaner legs which bent and wobbled underneath it. “Bootiful!” Phoenix sighed and beamed happily. She repeated herself over and over and then looked expectantly for Hana to open the door so she could go out and cuddle it. In the fading light, Hana saw the mucus dangling from the cow’s shaggy tail.
“You can’t go out,” she said to her eager child. Phoenix’s face crumpled in disappointment and her frown heralded the forthcoming objection. “No!” Hana said forcefully, reaching into her pocket for her phone.
“Photo?” Phoenix said and held out her hand. Hana squatted down to her level whilst dialling the number for the hotel.
“It’s a brand new baby, Phoe. The mummy will get angry if you go near it. You can’t go out. I need to get Daddy.”
“Get Daddy. Daddy bwave. Not me. Daddy.” Phoenix pushed her sincere face into Hana’s just to make sure her mother understood and nodded her head with forced precision.
Hana nodded and sighed as her phone reception disappeared. She ran down the hallway to the kitchen and seized the wireless phone that connected her to the main house. Realising her daughter hadn’t followed, Hana moved quickly back to her, finding her still watching the grazing dam, her hands pressed against the glass. “Baby dwinkin’,” she smiled and pointed at the suckling calf. “He back and white.”
Hana looked again, perplexed as the receptionist answered the phone at the hotel. “Hi Carrie,” Hana started politely. “It’s Hana. Please could you raise Logan for me? We’ve got a stray cow and calf in tow up at our place. It looks like she might have birthed it in the garden and...”
“More!” squealed Phoenix.
“...there are quite a few of them actually. I don’t know where they’re coming from.”
The receptionist’s voice sounded tinney through the handset. “I’ll radio him. He went out with all the other Mr Du Roses a couple of hours ago.”
“What - pardon?” Hana corrected herself. “Went where? What other Mr Du Roses?”
The woman hesitated, unable to sort the genealogy in her head sufficiently to list them as father, nephew and cousin. None of which were true. She resorted to names instead. “Logan, Alfred, Tama and Neville Du Rose. All of them. They rode out about four o’clock. Caused quite a bit of excitement in the car park on those mad horses of theirs.” She laughed and then thought better of it. Hana heard lust in her voice and fleetingly wondered who she had been ogling. Early twenties, Hana figured it would be Tama.
“Oh. I’m not sure what to do then,” Hana panicked. “How far did they go?”
“Back blocks,” Carrie confirmed and Hana sighed.
“Ok. Thanks. Please radio him and let him know that some of the stock has come up here. They seem...” Hana watched Phoenix’s face take on a look of disbelief as a large distressed dam raised her tail in a wiggly pencil-crayoned line and birthed a massive, cloudy bag of something from her back end. The sack slithered to the ground and the cow turned and licked it, uncovering the face of another calf.
“Mrs Du Rose?” the receptionist called, concerned at Hana’s abrupt halt.
“Sorry,” Hana sounded distant as she willed the little body to move. For a long time it didn’t and then suddenly it wiggled, struggling to release itself from the constrictive natural sleeping bag. “The cows are upset. They look like they’re spontaneously aborting. They’re milling around and someone’s going to get hurt. Look, if Logan’s not there, please can you send someone else. Maybe Toby or Flick. They can’t all have gone. It feels like something’s wrong.”
Hana squatted down next to Phoenix as the herd seemed to swell and grow, penning the newborns into a corner next to the house under stamping hooves. The child looked up at Hana wide-eyed as the throng increased, sure her mother would do something amazing and fix everything. Hana felt powerless. She put her hand over her mouth and prayed for the tiny, spindly bodies being forced back against the deck. “Oh God,” she breathed, “help them.” She fought the urge to cry in front of Phoenix as the small bodies hid underneath their dam’s stamping legs, moving as the herd swirled like water.
They were seconds away from being smashed and broken as the bullwhip sounded, cracking out into the dusk like an alarm. The herd shuddered and stopped. A dark horseman appeared at the edge of the garden, his hat masking his face but his body perfectly aligned to the white mare underneath him.
“Daddy!” Phoenix shouted and slammed her palm on the window.
“He can’t hear you, baby,” Hana said, relief in her voice. She put her arm around her child and cuddled her in close. She was desperate to pull her daughter onto the bed and close the curtains against the reality of their farming life, but knew it would cause more harm. She and Logan had argued about it frequently.
“Life sucks,” he had said with passion. “I’m not sheltering her from it. She needs to see things resolved otherwise she’ll be a runner, like you and me!”
“I have to let you see it finish,” Hana breathed into her child’s fluffy hair. “I need to let you see it all made better, otherwise you’ll have bad dreams about it.”
Phoenix pushed her bottom lip out and studied the scene before her with intense concentration, the hot bath and soporific story wasted in the aftermath. Sleep had gone from her eyes and her taut little body.
“Shed them!” Logan shouted to the other riders who appeared on the fringes and they moved around the seething mass, pushing their way through on fearless mounts.
“Sacha!” Phoenix pointed. “Luff Sacha.”
Logan’s white mare ducked and weaved, her head higher than usual as she avoided horns and flailing hooves. Logan sat solidly in the saddle, his body flowing with hers as he controlled her just with the touch of his reins against her neck. He was strong and powerful, no sign of his former weakness diminishing him as he did what he loved best. Instead of hiking up the panic, the riders dispelled it. They were the herd leaders and the cows relaxed under their authority, demurring to human instruction. The men used their bullwhips to hold and release the animals, checking them before sending them this way or that. Hana would have loved to see an aerial view of the display as the men channelled the beasts between them, their horses swaying on their front feet as they darted to thwart an escapee or drive the reluctant ones after the others. Sacha did a complete spin, effortless in its execution as she followed a straying heifer. She herded it successfully and it kicked its back legs in defeat in a mammoth bunny-hop and followed the others. In no time, the huge garden was almost cleared. The swell of bodies were gone and the night noises reclaimed their prominence once again; the cackle of disturbed tui and the growl of curious possums resonating alongside the clank of metal tack and the snort of tired horses. Logan kept the mothers and calves at the back near Phoenix’s window, holding his whip out straight in front of him and putting Sacha’s body between them and the disappearing herd. At first they panicked but then relaxed as Logan backed up a little.
Tama, Nev and Alfred rode up to him and Phoenix’s face lit up. Alfred rode as though he sat in his armchair in the apartment, his body moulded to the stock saddle and his girth hanging loose under his mount. “I forget that Poppa Alf used to run the farm,” Hana said quietly, mourning the man who had seemed so potent and all-knowing at their first meeting. Phoenix nodded enthusiastically.
“Nat Mefusa,” she said, pointing at the horse and Hana remembered.
“That’s right. Clever girl. Methuselah.”
“Me wide ‘im a Poppa Alfie,” Phoenix said proudly and Hana shook her head. She hated the Du Rose men’s disregard for safety or lifeblood in general, slinging her baby in the saddle from six weeks old and giving her mother numerous heart-stopping moments in the last, almost two years. So much for waiting for the helmet to fit. Nothing had ever happened. But it could.
Happy with the equilibrium, Phoenix was chatty. Her father had fixed everything, just like she knew he would. “Nonie Leslie not ride dough. She fat!”
Hana’s eyes grew wide at her daughter’s statement of fact. It was possible that Leslie herself had said it but Hana was saved the dilemma of reprimanding Phoenix, by the men outside. Their horses walked slowly backwards, controlled by imperceptible commands and the cows moved away from the house, trotting quickly past them. The tiny calves tottered after them making a strange mewing sound. “Bye calfies,” Phoenix called and waved pleasantly. Then she turned to Hana. “My ‘ungry.”
The four imposing Du Rose men sat in Hana’s kitchen, their socks fluffy and incongruous without their work boots. The other stockmen drove the rest of the herd back down the mountain and the noise seemed to shake the house on its pilings. The men’s legs were long as they sprawled on the kitchen chairs and Hana found it hard not to fall over them as she delivered coffee and sandwiches to the table. The muffins she and Phoenix made together earlier were inhaled in a matter of minutes, the interesting bright red icing barely even touching the sides of their mouths on the way down.
“So, where are the calves and horses?” Hana asked tentatively, resting her hand on Logan’s outstretched thigh under the table. Nev answered.
“We’ve shut the gate so the new calves and dams can stay up here for the night, if that’s ok?” He asked the question out of courtesy, knowing Logan had already ratified the decision. “The others are driving the rest back down the mountain to JD’s paddock near the road. It’s got good grass. They won’t be escaping anywhere else tonight.”
Hana’s eyes widened at the mention of the elusive JD, but she kept her ears open and her mouth shut for once. Her interest was piqued and she saw Logan studying her covertly from under his lashes.
“Where horsey?” Phoenix asked her father, her mouth covered in icing and her pyjama top stained with food colouring. She held her hands out to the side, palm upwards, questioning.
Logan leaned towards his daughter. He rescued a blob of icing from her chin and almost popped it into her mouth. Even though he washed his hands more than Hana did, the cracks in his skin bore ingrained dirt and his nails were permanently filthy. He changed his mind and wiped it on the inadequate bib around her neck.
“Outside, moko,” Alfred answered with a smile. “Having a snack with the cows.”
“I see...I see...Mefusa!” Phoenix struggled with her sentence, spraying crumbs onto the table and Alfred grinned.
“Yeah, the old boy’s still got it!” he beamed. Hana wasn’t sure if he referred to the horse or himself. The other men smiled at each other, except Tama, who worked hard to eat everything left on the table. He ravaged the plates like a starving man. Castaway meets McDonald’s.
“What’s the damage outside?” Hana asked. She had watched one of the cows kick down the deck rail near Phoenix’s window.
“Superficial,” Alfred answered. “Could have been worse. You might want to keep your gate closed in future.”
Hana looked at him strangely. “It is closed.”
“Not,” Tama interjected. He waved his muffin at Phoenix and praised her with a mouthful. She laughed, red icing in her teeth like a vampire.
“It is!” Hana insisted. “I always close it.” She felt abruptly under the spotlight as though the men wanted someone to blame and she was it.
“So why was it open?” Nev asked, his grey eyes shrouded and disbelieving. Hana was instantly defensive and it made her rude.
“Don’t mistake me for some basket-case lunatic, thanks. The gate was closed when I drove through it at three o’clock. I opened it and closed it! I always close it because I don’t want someone to blast through it and run Phoe over when we’re playing outside. It’s habit. I keep it closed all the time because then I will never forget! Look for someone else to blame.” Hana’s fire was on show for them all to see, her red hair seeming to glow with an inner burn and her porcelain face flushed and beautiful. Her green eyes lit up like display emeralds and flashed dangerously at her brother-in-law. Nev glanced at Logan and backed down.
“Well, anyway. That’s how they got in. You can see their tracks all the way up the mountain and onto the road up. Good job you never got round to landscaping. They’ve dug up the ground proper. Thanks for raising the alarm though. We were already looking for them but would never have tried up here.”
“It bite my mummy,” Phoenix swallowed, her voice sounding muffled and strange. Hana pushed her sippy cup towards her, not wanting her to vomit on the table.
“What?” Logan said to her.
“Pardon!” Phoenix swallowed the water and admonished her father, waving the sippy cup and giving him an accidental shower. “It bited Mummy hand. Ouch!” She put her finger up to her mouth and sucked it. Logan looked at Hana, noticing the plaster on her index finger.
“Today?” he asked pointedly and Hana gritted her teeth. He still treated her like his mentally fragile mother sometimes and it infuriated her. She wondered if Nev treated his lovely wife the same way and saw in his eyes that he did. Anahera meant ‘angel’ in Māori and Nev’s wife was exactly that. Gentle, patient and easy going; everything Hana Du Rose was not. She took a deep breath and reined in her temper.
“When I drove home this afternoon, the gate stuck and a sharp piece of metal under the catch snagged my finger.” She held the plastered digit aloft, noting with satisfaction the blood speckling through to the outside from the cut. She turned away to avoid releasing the biting comment to her husband about getting DNA from the gate to prove it. It stayed unhelpfully at the front of her brain, still wanting to be said, sounding clever and witty in her head.
Phoenix did a spectacular sneeze and pink cake bits shot in a wide arc around her plate. She squeezed her face up and stuck her bottom lip out to catch the snot. Hana grabbed a length of kitchen paper and wiped her daughter’s offered nose and face with its roughness, deciding that a proper face wash and change of jarmies was probably in order. She went through the teeth cleaning and story process for the second time, finding the men still sitting at her kitchen table when she returned. Logan had made more coffee and Tama stood with his nose in the pantry like a pig seeking truffles.
“Come out of there!” Hana chastised him and put her hands either side of his waist, moving him out of the way of the pantry. “What’s wrong with you? Do you need worming?”
“Ahakoa nui, ahakoa iti, Pūrangatia ko te aroaro o Taiawa,” Alfred piped up and the other men tittered amongst themselves. Hana sighed loudly and Nev translated it for her.
“It means, no whether large or small, it will be heaped up in front of Taiawa. He was a gluttonous figure and would eat anything dished up for him, no matter what sort of food or quality it was. That’s like our boy here.”
“I’m hungry,” Tama whined as he tried to get back to the pantry doors again.
“I’ll make you something else,” Hana said staunchly. “But then you stop.” Tama scuttled back to his seat and sat down again. Hana handled two tins of pumpkin soup and looked across at the other men. “Are you guys hungry still?” They nodded as a unit and she turned away to hide her smirk. “Pumpkin soup it is then,” she smiled.
The men ate the soup and another loaf of bread but in her quiet ministrations, Hana was able to glean knowledge that she otherwise wouldn’t have.
“So who do you reckon’s doing all this?” Alfred asked, beaming at Hana as she laid the steaming bowl in front of him.
“Insider,” Nev said without doubt. “But why? Throwing a brick through a window at your missus was personal. The other stuff is about trying to ruin the business.”
“So what exactly is happening?” Alfred asked with his mouth full. “I’m out of the loop nowadays.”
Hana watched her husband raise his eyebrows at Nev. It was Alfred’s choice to step back, nobody had forced him. After Miriam’s death he had withdrawn from everyone and everything. It had been understandable but also made things much harder for Logan. Logan inclined his head towards his half-brother and Nev listed the things that had gone wrong over recent months.
“The first thing was that someone started cutting wire fences and mixing stock up,” Nev began haltingly. “It seemed random but definitely deliberate. Then they cut the electricity to the main house and it cost a fortune to repair. That was when Logan and Hana were away and we had to pay to have it all reconnected. The power company said the line was deliberately cut. We’ve had native trees felled across bush tracks and electric fences turned off. The stock’s been shifted round heaps of times and the mares have been let loose into crops that were meant to be for winter feed. Hana had the window smashed on her and now this with the stock being in your garden.”
“Our water tanks were emptied too,” Hana added. She leaned with her backside against the sink while the men ate, not wanting to intrude on their conversation. But she hadn’t realised how bad things had got. Logan opened his mouth and Hana shook her head. “It wasn’t Phoenix, Loge. I know you wanted to believe that, but I never leave her outside alone. I was there the whole time and she wasn’t out of my sight. Besides, she couldn’t turn the handle even if she’d wanted to, not how hard you tighten them. Sometimes I can’t do them.”
“I know it wasn’t her,” Logan admitted, looking contrite. “I didn’t want to worry you. Whoever did it opened the taps at both ends of the house. They intended us to run out of water, but it’s possible they didn’t know we could also draw from the stream. So it can’t be someone who was involved with building the house, or is familiar with the layout of the land.” He laid his soup spoon in his bowl and sat back in his chair. All the men were at a loss.
“There’s the window broken in your old bedroom with a brick and then there’s also the cigarette ends,” Hana said quietly. “Someone’s been watching the house.”
“What?” Logan looked at her aghast. “How do you know? Why didn’t you say something?”
“I wasn’t completely sure,” Hana answered, “it was just a feeling at first. Especially at night. I kept closing the curtains because I thought perhaps it was me imagining things. But then one morning a while ago, I found a cigarette end outside the front door. The only people who’d been here...” Hana paused, suddenly nervous of mentioning that Flick had helped eject Logan from his marital bed. “The only people who’d visited us don’t smoke. I walked around the side of the house and there was a whole patch of them next to the big Norfolk pine. And the ground was all dented.”
“No point checking now,” Nev said as he buttered another piece of bread to dip in his soup. “Stock will have destroyed it all.”
Logan looked crossly at Hana as though she had betrayed him and she held his gaze. Her eyes contained a challenge and he got the message: I couldn’t tell you anything because we weren’t talking! Sadness crossed his face and he looked away, berating himself. He had let his wife down in so many ways.
Tama finally pulled his face out of his bowl and looked hopefully at Logan’s. Hana’s husband had lost his appetite. He pushed the bowl silently over to his nephew and Tama pinched Alfred’s buttered bread as soon as he laid it on his plate.
“Bugger off!” Alfred told him and tried to pull it back. It ripped in half and he groaned and went back to the bread bag to begin again. Tama collected up the pieces and dipped them in Logan’s cooling soup.
“So it’s deliberate, possibly an inside job and there’s a particular interest in what? Me and Logan or the farm?” Hana asked.
The men looked nervous. Nev turned in his seat and answered her. “We thought it was the business alone but we think it’s you and Logan too. Someone wants to destroy everything you have but we aren’t sure why. This latest...development is pretty ingenious and will do us a lot of damage financially and in terms of reputation, so we’re fairly sure they won’t stop until it’s all over.”
“What latest development,” Hana asked, looking around at the men when nobody answered. Logan ran his hand over his face and exhaled.
“The calves, Hana. What did you notice about the calves?”
She shook her head feeling suddenly stupid. “I don’t know. They were quite small, but you’re already calving so I don’t know if that means anything. One was born right in front of us. Is that it? Were they meant to die and freak me and Phoe out? Because they obviously didn’t.”
“One did,” Alfred said blandly. “It got trampled.”
Hana felt instantly sick and looked down at the floor. Hatred bubbled up in her heart for the person who would do this.
“What else?” Logan asked and Hana wanted to scream at him. He treated her as though she were a pupil in his English class, drawing answers out of her so she could pass an exam.
“I don’t know,” she said crossly. “Of the two we saw, one was pure white and the other was black and white. They were newborn calves. I don’t know what you want me to say!”
“You just said it,” Nev smiled with sadness in his glittering eyes. “One was black and white. We breed purebred Charolaise cattle for the meat markets. They’re all white. And every year we hire a prize winning white Charolaise bull, which has been studied and researched and deemed to be compatible with our herds. Even with a recessive gene, we shouldn’t end up with black and white calves that look like...”
“Bloody Friesians,” Tama finished off for him, wiping his hand across the back of his mouth. “Someone’s gone to a lot of trouble to put a bull in a paddock of heifers. And when could they have done it? And how? It’s not like you can take a damn great bull for a walk in the mountains and accidentally let it loose with the cows and then call it back again.”
Hana studied the tiled floor, admiring the tiny diamond-like sparkles in the black surface. It was eye catching and distracting but it didn’t stop fear rampaging through her mind and creating monsters in her world. “Do you think...?” she couldn’t finish the sentence. “Do you think it could be...?” She licked her lips, aware that the men watched her intently, perhaps hoping for some gem of wisdom to pop out of her rosebud lips. Hana touched the scar on her left wrist with her other hand, feeling the instant stab of pain from the shard of glass still lodged in her artery. Her attacker was dead, but he had wanted to hurt Logan so badly. “I wondered if Laval...” Hana gulped and instinctively moved her right hand up to touch the site of the pacemaker. She hardly thought about it these days, except in moments of great stress when she half expected it to go off.
“No, Hana.” Logan’s voice was gentle and he padded across to her in his socks. He wrapped his arms around her firmly and grounded her in his love and the scent of horses and leather tack. “It’s not him, babe. It’s nobody like that. This is why I didn’t tell you. I knew what you’d think.”
The men at the table shuffled uncomfortably in the face of the show of affection, so unusual within their clan. Alfred studied his hands with abject concentration and Nev stared at Logan’s back with an air of interest. Hana linked her fingers behind Logan’s back to stop her shaking and he slipped his fingers up underneath her tee shirt. “You’re still beautiful,” he whispered in her ear, making Hana squirm with the ticklishness of his breath on her skin.
“Hey, old people, can you not?” Tama interjected in a sing-song voice. He turned to Nev. “They’re always at it. It’s disgusting.”
“Says you!” Logan answered him, turning round and pulling Hana in front of him. He leaned back against the sink with his legs splayed and Hana leaned her back against his stomach, slotting her feet neatly between his. Logan put his arms around her, hugging her into him, his long arms stretched across her chest. “Oh yeah,” he smiled mischievously at Tama, “that’s right. You’re not getting any are you?”
Nev and Alfred fixed their slate grey eyes on the young man and he quailed under their scrutiny. “Lucy’s a Christian,” he said proudly. “And we’re waiting.”
Alfred’s jaw dropped in surprise, revealing a set of false teeth at the top which clung precariously to his pink gums. Nev’s head swivelled on his neck so fast it looked painful. Neither of them spoke and in the ensuing silence, Tama lost his nerve. He pointed at Logan and Hana accusingly. “They waited,” he whined, “and it’s turned out ok for them.” Hana felt Logan’s eyes burning holes in the top of her head as they bore into Tama’s body. The tension in the pectoral muscle behind her communicated his anger. She stroked the hand nearest to her heart in warning, feeling Logan’s fingers flex into a fist over her breast. A sigh escaped her as she wished heartily she had let her husband give the big mouth a slap, as it opened again.
“Lucy said God blesses you if you wait and look at them,” Tama’s voice went to a squeak at the end. “They’re pensioners and turning out kids like...like...” he couldn’t think of a suitable analogy.
Hana gulped as Logan’s family as one, turned their grey eyes on her stomach. It was intensely embarrassing for her and she sucked it in as much as she could without being obvious. It didn’t work. When Hana looked down, she still couldn’t see her slippers.
Nev broke the silence. “Congratulations then.” He smiled. “Another little Du Rose to add to the crew.”
Logan exhaled with his nose and mouth on the back of Hana’s head. It was warm and ruffled her hair. “Thanks,” he said and the atmosphere became strained.
“You were a late baby, Logan,” Alfred piped up, his face soft with the memory of the small boy who had captured his heart. “You were a little surprise too.”
Nev looked awkward again and Tama snorted at the reminder of Logan’s illegitimacy. “Er, yeah, I bet.”
Logan blew out a quick breath, the same noise his beautiful Appaloosas made when startled or annoyed. It was heated and sharp on the back of Hana’s head. “Are you done making trouble?” he asked his nephew coldly and Tama shrugged and handled the last crust of bread from the bag. The boy had no shame.
“You lot crack me up,” he said, digging into the butter. “At least you’ve got each other. I don’t got nobody of my own. I used to just tag onto other families and try and find my place for a while. Until I found Ma,” Tama smiled fondly at Hana. “See, blood don’t make family, it’s the other stuff. Poppa Alfred had Logan all them years and Logan called him ‘dad’ and didn’t know no different. Yeah we all lost Poppa Reuben who, for the record, was more of a father to me than anyone and Nev lost his dad. But Nev’s got a brother now.” Tama waved his knife dangerously in the other man’s face. “You got Logan, like the coolest bro’ you could ever imagine and Poppa Alf to ask stuff. I went to a house fire in Mount Eden last week. It was the poorest house I’d ever seen, I mean the thing was hanging together with string. It was this family and the mama was sick with cancer and couldn’t work. It went up like a firework because one of the little kids thought he would make his mama warm and lit a fire in a blocked chimney. He found some dregs of petrol in an old can out back and saved it, he said, for a special occasion. He threw it on the fire and the damn house exploded. We got them all out. The mama and five little kids, even the baby in the cot. They’ve got nothing left and all she could do was shout at the top of her voice how lucky she was because they all got out alive. She kept shouting, ‘Thank God, thank God,’ and I thought, thank him for what? You’ve got nothing. It made me think about things differently. Family is everything, no matter what kind of family you end up with.”
The room was silent, the air molecules banging together in their eternal dance and causing a static fuzz. Nev cleared his throat, “I should get back to my lot,” he said and smiled his crinkly eyed smile. Alfred scraped his chair back too.
“Yeah, me an’ all.”
Tama licked his lips and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.
“Wait!” Logan said and everyone halted. “I’ll radio the bunkhouse and get someone to ride up in the ute. Leave the horses here and get them tomorrow.”
“What about water?” Nev asked.
“The old stream runs past here,” Alfred said knowledgeably. “They’ll be right with that.”
Logan gave Hana a gentle push to make her stand up and padded over to the table to retrieve the radio. It crackled to life and he went outside to get a better reception.
“See you later kōtiro,” Alfred hugged Hana tightly and kissed her on the cheek. He nodded in satisfaction and his eyes strayed to her belly. “Do we know when yet? You weren’t sure.”
Hana rubbed a hand over her protruding bump. “Beginning of December.”
Alfred nodded happily again and patted her on the shoulder.
“Congratulations.” Nev held out his hand to Hana and it seemed formal and awkward for a brother-in-law, even a half one. He laughed hollowly. “If you were anyone else I would give you a hug but I don’t want your old man to kick my head in.”
Hana snorted, wishing that it wasn’t true. An image of Bobby’s dreadful black eye wafted across her inner vision and her smile faded from her lips.
“Someone’s coming up,” Logan announced, coming back into the kitchen. He spun the radio carelessly in his hand and cuffed Tama round the back of the head. “I think we should all take a wee look outside at the damage and to see if those cigarette ends are still visible. Might give us an idea of what’s going on.”
The men nodded eagerly and put their hats on their heads and tramped back to the front door.
“Oh, there’s one of the cigarette ends in the plant pot by the door,” Hana remembered. “I picked it up and then forgot about it.”
Logan returned to the kitchen for a sandwich bag to put it in and found Hana rubbing her eyes. “Go to bed, love,” he said gently. “I won’t be long.” He kissed her on the forehead and then went off to play detective with his new sidekicks. Hana faced the food mess and sighed, clearing the bowls away and wiping the table. A knock on the front door was followed by the sound of it opening and closing. Hana went cautiously out to the hallway and looked at the visitor.
“Hi.” She didn’t know what else to say.
“Logan around?” Flick asked and his fingers writhed around the car key in his hand.
“He’s out there.” Hana pointed back the way he had come and returned to her task, a dreadful sadness winding its stealthy fingers round her heart.
“Hana.”
She jumped as the voice came from right behind her. Flick had kicked off his boots on the mat and followed her. “I wanted to say, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been like that with you the other day.”
Hana looked at his eye, her brow knitting in sympathy. It still looked painfully swollen. Blue and purple had turned to a livid green that looked straight out of a paint palette. The man’s eyeball was more visible and less bloodshot. It wasn’t going to kill him. “That’s ok,” she said sadly. “It’s your business.” She turned away from the table with a cloth filled with crumbs and Flick caught her free hand in his.
“Please don’t be mad at me,” he whispered.
Hana sighed and looked at their joined fingers. “Bobby, if Logan sees you here, he’ll kill you next time,” she said with resignation.
“Logan?” he repeated and then wrinkled his nose in disdain as though the idea was ludicrous.
Hana’s face was disbelieving. “If he gave you that shiner for helping me to the hospital, then imagine what he’ll do when he finds you holding my hand in his own kitchen.” Tiredness made Hana aggressive but Flick stood his ground.
“Not everything’s about Logan bloody Du Rose,” he said through gritted teeth. He pointed an angry finger at his eye. “This won’t keep me away from you, Hana. I’m risking everything to tell you that I’m sorry for the other day. If he sees me come up here, he’ll kill me for sure. He’s done it before, I know that.”
Hana’s vision seemed to cloud. Logan had killed someone. “Logan has?” she whispered, her face ashen. Flick shook his head in irritation.
“Stop talking about Logan,” he raised his voice and Hana was reminded of the power he had once wielded in his awful organisation. He had intended to hurt her and had succeeded once. She yanked at her hand to release it from his grasp and he shifted his fingers, contacting the ugly cut on her wrist by mistake. Hana cried out in pain and he dropped her hand and then didn’t seem to know what to do. “Sorry, sorry,” he said and ran his hand through his blonde hair. “Hana, I need to shoot through. Please come with me?”
“What? Why?” she felt appalled. “But you haven’t done anything.”
“But he thinks I have and he knows how I feel about you. Please, Hana. Come with me.”
Hana shook her head. “But nothing’s happened,” she repeated gormlessly.
“He thinks it has,” Flick said again. “We need to get away from here.”
Hana’s brain struggled with Flick’s words. So Logan knew how this man felt about her and thought that she’d been unfaithful with him. It didn’t make sense, unless Logan was about to burst through the door and kill the man right there on the kitchen rug. Hana stepped back, understanding nothing. There came the abrupt sound of stamping feet and the front door handle clicked down. Hana turned quickly away and by the time Logan had kicked his boots off and walked down the hallway, she was rinsing the dirty cloth in the sink. Flick leaned against the centre island with his back to her, arms folded and legs crossed over at the ankles.
“Ah, cheers bro’, thanks for coming up here,” Logan said cordially and Hana turned to look at him in surprise. “The others are getting in the truck,” he said and Flick followed him down the hallway with a single wistful look back at Hana. She listened to her husband chatting as they left the house, detailing a security watch over the property and issuing Flick with orders for the other stockmen. He was perfectly calm and unthreatening. Hana was completely confused.