‘Gabe here, Luke. I’ve only just heard about Peter. I’m so sorry, mate. How’s he faring?’
‘Things are looking slightly better now, thanks, Gabe. Dad’s off the ventilator. The medicos are saying it’s still touch and go, but we’re feeling more positive.’
Gabe let out the breath he’d been holding. He knew firsthand what it was like to lose a father.
Worst day of his life.
The following months had been hell, too, and now, with a friend and neighbouring cattleman in ICU, he was reliving that horror stretch.
‘How are things up your way?’ Luke asked. ‘Any sign of rain?’
Gabe grimaced. ‘Not a spit.’
‘Gotta come soon.’
‘You’d think so. Country’s drying out. They’ve already had spot fires around Gidgee Springs.’
Luke sighed heavily into the phone. ‘I should get up there, I know, but I’ve got to sort out a problem with work commitments.’
Gabe refrained from adding to his mate’s worries by mentioning the firebreaks that needed clearing on Mullinjim.
‘Has Bella arrived yet?’ The question rolled from his tongue as if he’d rehearsed it.
‘Sure,’ Luke responded in his easy drawl. ‘Bella and Liz got in an hour ago. Flew straight from London. Pretty buggered after the flight, of course, but it’s great to see them. Bella’s in there with Dad now.’
‘Peter will be pleased to see her.’
‘Yeah. Rapt. You know how he’s always been about Belle.’
‘Yeah . . . ’ Gabe cleared the brick that had lodged in his throat. ‘So . . . ah . . . tell her I said hi.’
‘Sure. I’ll do that.’ There was the slightest hint of surprise and curiosity in Luke’s voice.
Gabe gritted his teeth. ‘I’ll leave you to it then, Luke. I’m glad the news about Peter is better.’
‘We’re keeping our fingers crossed. Thanks for the call. Keep in touch.’
‘No worries.’
Gabe dropped the phone and strode outside, needing air. He let the flyscreen door crash behind him.
Tell her I said hi.
Shit. Shit. How had that slipped out? In two years he’d barely heard from Bella. No phone calls or texts. No email.
And that was fair enough after the bitter way they’d parted.
Gabe knew damn well that she’d needed to get away to find out about life beyond the bush. He’d more or less pushed her in that direction and he’d convinced himself he was glad she was out of his life.
Out of sight, out of mind, and all that bull . . .
At the far end of the verandah, his dog rose from the patch of sunlight and padded towards him, ears alert, eyes full of love, tail wagging.
For once Gabe didn’t greet him. He had too much on his mind. None of it good.
‘Oh, my word, sweetheart, you look wonderful. Like Christmas on a stick.’
A big grin stretched across Peter Fairburn’s face as Bella tiptoed into his room. But his grin couldn’t hide how tired and grey he looked or how formidable the ICU was with beeping machines and flashing screens, like something out of the Starship Enterprise.
Throughout the long journey, Bella had been on tenterhooks waiting for this moment and so scared she’d miss this chance. She papered on a smile as she came closer and bent down to kiss her father’s cool cheek. ‘Missed you, Dad,’ she said softly.
He reached for her hand and clasped her tightly. ‘Missed you, too, sweetheart.’
‘They say you’re improving. That’s fantastic news.’
Her dad was still smiling at her fondly, his gentle gaze roving her face, as if he was drinking in details. ‘If you stay over there much longer you’ll end up with a proper peaches and cream complexion.’
Bella laughed shakily. ‘I very much doubt that.’
‘Skiing must agree with you, Belle. You’re glowing.’
She wished she could return the compliment. The hollowness in her father’s cheeks and the pallor of his skin frightened her. Even his lips were pale.
He’d always been an outdoors man. Super fit. Strong. Suntanned.
He seemed to have aged ten years . . .
Careful not to bump tubes and wires, she took a seat beside the bed.
‘I’m sorry you had to rush back here because of me,’ he said.
‘Don’t give it another thought. I wanted to come. So did Liz. You know she’s here, too?’
‘Yeah. They’ll only let visitors in one at a time.’
‘So we don’t tire you.’
Peter grunted and shrugged as if he couldn’t understand all the fuss. He smiled at Bella again. ‘Your mum tells me there’s a young French bloke on the scene.’
‘His name’s Anton. Anton Bazile. I met him at Alpazur, at the ski resort.’
‘Nice bloke?’
‘Lovely.’
‘Hmmm . . . ’ Her father’s eyes were shrewd as he watched her. ‘Speak much English?’
‘Yes. He’s really good as a matter of fact. Much better than I am at French, although I’m improving.’
‘Well, there you go,’ he said with a smiling shake of his head. ‘Our little Bella and a Frog. Plenty of blokes here keen on you, but you had to go hunting in the snow for one.’ He gave a soft chuckle. ‘I guess Aussie blokes can’t compete with a dashing Frenchman swooping down the Alps to rescue girls from frostbite.’
Bella laughed, too, but the laugh was a little shaky. Sitting here with her dad in ICU, Anton and the French Alps already felt so far away. Almost unreal. Jetlag wasn’t helping. It was making her tremble. Nothing here felt very real – although the coldness of her dad’s hands was real enough.
‘Is he important to you, Bella?’
Yes, of course he is.
She opened her mouth to assure him that Anton was incredibly special, but somehow . . . the words wouldn’t come. Already everything felt so different here and her priorities were rapidly shifting. It was happening almost beyond her control, just as Aunt Liz had warned her.
‘It – it’s still early days in the romance department,’ she said lamely.
Her father nodded and seemed happy with the answer. ‘I tried skiing once. Had so many bruises from coming a cropper. I’d rather ride a bronco bareback.’ His smile faded. ‘Won’t be doing any of it now.’
Bella swallowed. ‘I hope you’re not worrying too much. Everyone’s certain you’re getting better.’
‘Yeah, well, I’m a realist, Belle. I know I probably should have gone with the first attack and if it wasn’t for Mac McKinnon––’
‘Don’t talk like that. It can’t be good for you.’ She was trembling more than ever now, fighting hard to keep herself from falling to pieces. ‘Maybe you should rest.’
Her father’s hand tightened around hers, his grip surprisingly fierce. ‘I’m not worried about myself. It’s Mullinjim.’
‘Why should you worry about Mullinjim? Luke will look after everything until you’re well again. He did a great job last time.’
But Peter Fairburn was shaking his head. ‘Luke’s a good son and I know he’d rush back to Mullinjim in a heartbeat if I asked him to. But it wouldn’t be fair to drag him back now.’
‘Drag him back?’ Bella felt as if she’d stepped off the edge of a cliff into thin air. ‘I don’t understand.’
What hadn’t they told her? Of course Luke would step in. He’d always been their dad’s right-hand man.
‘Luke needs to make his own life,’ her father said now. ‘Doing more than just raising cattle.’
‘Really?’ Bella’s voice squeaked with shock. ‘Are you sure?’
‘You know how keen he is on carpentry and building.’
‘Well . . . yes.’ She had known Luke was brilliant at woodwork, but she’d never given it much thought. It was simply Luke’s thing, his hobby.
Years ago he’d made a doll’s house for her. By the time he’d actually finished it, she’d grown out of playing with dolls, but she’d loved the house and she’d been old enough to appreciate the skill involved in crafting proper windows and doors, and a fitted kitchen with tiny cupboards that opened and shut, a spiral staircase.
‘Your mother’s helped me to see how important that work is to Luke,’ her father went on. ‘I’m slow to pick up on these things and I guess I’m old-fashioned, but I’m coming to terms with it.’ He stopped and closed his eyes.
He looked exhausted.
‘Dad, you should rest. We can talk about this another time.’
She’d rushed home to focus on her father’s fragile health, not her family’s succession plans. Shocked to feel tears on her face, Bella swiped at her cheeks with the heels of her hands. ‘You have to stop worrying, Dad. Just get better. Listen to the doctors and do what you’re told. Okay?’
Leaning close, she hugged him gently, and then she remembered that she’d come all this way to utter the words she so rarely used. ‘I love you, Dad.’
Tenderly he touched her face. ‘I love you too, sweetheart.’
‘See you tomorrow.’ She stumbled from the room in a tearblurred daze.