Hope's Road Page 20

A pair of strong arms came from nowhere to clutch at her body, to draw her in, to murmur into her hair, ‘Tammy? Oh Tammy, mate.’

  And that just made things worse. Now she was within the comfort of Trav’s hug, her sobs became cries, her stream of tears a river. Then she heard him whisper again, his breath sending wisps of her hair curling around her ears, ‘I’ll get him, Tammy. I promise you I’ll get him.’ And in her despair she wondered if he was talking about Shon or the wild dog that was destroying any chance she had of keeping the farm. She didn’t really care. They all amounted to the same thing. Ruin and despair.

  Her whole world was crashing around her and she was falling and falling further than she’d ever fallen before, further even than after her grandparents died. But wonder of wonders: there was someone there to catch her. And that hadn’t been the case for years. Maybe it was okay to soak in the comfort for a little while and pretend nothing else existed beyond Travis Hunter’s strong arms.

  Tammy had no idea how long they stood there with the dark shadows of the tall gum trees holding them within their embrace.

  ‘I’m so sorry,’ she mumbled into the warm flannelette shirt. ‘I don’t know what got –’

  ‘Stop,’ said Trav, as he pulled her in closer. ‘Sometimes we just have to cry it all out. No rhyme, no reason. It’s just the way it is.’

  Trav wouldn’t know how much was riding on getting those calves on the ground. Why should he? She hadn’t told anyone but Lucy about the fix she was in. Not even old Joe. How could she tell Joe? What would he say when he heard she was going to have to sell Montmorency Downs, the heritage of the McCauley family, to pay out a Murphy?

  You’ll have to find a way, her subconscious whispered. Yes, she’d have to find a way. She owed it to the old man. Until recently, he might not have set foot on the place for sixty years but he still loved it. Land was like family.

  She went to pull away but he wasn’t letting her go. ‘Trav –’

  ‘Shhh,’ he whispered, pointing towards the canopy of the tall eucalypt tree. They both looked up to the tawny frogmouth owl that was staring down. Big round unblinking eyes observed them. Then with a soft hoot he flew away, spooked by the soft growl from a dog on the back verandah.

  Tammy was acutely aware of Trav’s hard, muscled body. The length of it was burning into her side like a hot slab of iron.

  ‘How about a cup of hot chocolate?’ he said, as he turned back to her, the spell cast by the owl now broken. His look was soft as he gazed down at her. She was vividly aware her own eyes must be swollen and red. In fact her whole face was most likely a blotchy mess.

  ‘Really, I should be going.’ But Tammy found herself reluctant to move from the warmth, the comfort of being with someone.

  ‘Just one hot chocolate. Here – you’re shivering now. I can’t send you home like this.’ Trav took matters into his own hands and walked her across the gravel, through the gate, along the path, to the back door of the little shack.

  ‘But what about Billy?’

  ‘He’s at Joe’s.’

  Of course. She knew that. Silly her.

  ‘Just a hot chocolate then.’

  ‘Just a hot chocolate.’

  Inside, while Trav put the kettle on the old combustion stove, Tammy wandered around the small room that functioned as the kitchen, dining and lounge all in one. On the walls were photos, framed with hand-wrought timber and metal. Big ones, little ones – all landscape shots of arid-looking desert country and a long and ribbon-like chain-mesh fence rolling over red sand dunes that looked like a russet-coloured Loch Ness monster.

  ‘Are these all the dog fence?’ Tammy asked, peering at a close-up of an unconcerned shingle-backed lizard clinging to chain-wire.

  ‘Yep. The fence has created its own ecosystem. You often see those little beggars hanging there on the wire just taking in the world.’

  Tammy turned to the man, realising she wanted to know more and more about him. ‘What other animals did you see?’

  Trav smiled as he dished tea leaves into a teapot. A can of Milo stood nearby. He took his time to reply, his eyes seeing something far beyond McCauley’s Hill. ‘The mighty wedge-tailed eagle. Dozens and dozens of them. All living off the little critters that call the fence their home. They were something to see. Them and the Woma Pythons. They’re a big desert snake about twelve foot long that lives in rabbit burrows. Harmless, but endangered, so we had to help them over the fence when they got stuck. First time I saw one of those it scared the shit out of me, but then I learned how to handle them, what to do.’

  She moved around the kitchen bench, drawn by the soft reflective tone of Trav’s voice and by the passion in his eyes.

  ‘Then there were emus, kangaroos, frill-necked and blue-tongue lizards, sand goannas . . . plus the thunder and sandstorms that could rage around you for hours on end.’

  ‘You loved it, didn’t you?’ she said softly.

  A pair of dreamy blue eyes stared back at her. ‘Yes, I did.’

  The kettle on the stove started to whistle, startling them both. Together they leaped to turn the gas off, and their arms collided as the supply shut down. Hand met hand. Fingers met fingers. Tammy looked up to see Trav staring down at her and what Tammy glimpsed was breathtaking. An intensity of gaze she hadn’t seen since the night of the dance. The night she turned away. But she couldn’t turn away now. Not even when Travis Hunter took her hand in his and slowly drew her in. Not even when his head drifted downwards. Not even when, with one last look into her eyes, he gently covered her trembling lips with his own.

  Every nerve-ending in Tammy’s body seemed to quiver as Travis slowly traced the outline of her mouth, gently at first, taking his sweet time to taste. Then, as he met with no resistance, drinking where before he’d just sipped. Pulling her in tight to his hard body. Demanding yet soft. It was all she could do to stay on her feet.

  And then, just when she thought her legs would go out from under her, he was retreating, moving away. She heard herself whimper. But he didn’t go far. His warm mouth languidly traced the gentle curve of her neck, nibbling and sucking, seeking and finding the sweet spots. Tammy let out a low moan as he feasted on her skin. Her body swayed in ecstasy. All she could hear was that same roaring in her ears, punctuated by her own little gasps of pleasure. All she could feel were Travis Hunter’s lips. All she could see was the softly curling hair where it met the skin of his neck.

  Tammy gasped as Trav’s mouth reached the pulse at the base of her throat. He paused, hovered in momentary indecision. Then slowly but surely he trailed kiss after kiss along her collarbone, up her neck and back to the softness of her lips.

  She felt him push the kettle off the still-hot hob, and take her hand, drawing her towards the doorway of an adjoining room where she could see a double bed. She didn’t want this to stop. She found herself looking up into those eyes, usually a vivid blue but now a dark and dangerous navy. He bent his head down to her and she was carried away in his kiss once more.

  Tammy felt his hands move from her sides to the front of her shirt. Starting at the waist he undid her buttons, one by one, taking time to explore the body beneath his hands. Her shirt came off, followed by her bra. And then she was gently picked up and laid down on the bed. Trav stripped his own shirt off in one go and Tammy gasped. His chest was broad, muscled and lightly patterned with soft hair in all the right spots. Then he was upon her, kissing and nuzzling her breasts, licking the soft rosy peaks, which had risen to meet his touch.

  Nibbling and kissing his way down to her waist, he slowly eased her jeans from her hips, caressing her skin as he went. Tammy thought she was about to die, so strong was her greed to have this man deep inside her.

  ‘Your jeans,’ she muttered through clenched teeth.

  He pulled the rest of his clothes off, piece by piece, with Tammy watching every move. She’d always thought him sexy but, wit
h his clothes off, the man was more than sexy. He was – oh God, what was he? Tammy couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, because he was there. Right there. Right where she needed him to be. His fingers. His tongue. Touching. Teasing. Oh my Lord – she could feel herself rising, heading for a peak. Oh, so close. ‘Keep going,’ she begged, as she twirled her hips.

  ‘I intend to,’ he whispered.

  And then she knew she had to have him. ‘Trav! Please!’

  Trav moved fast, up and over her body, thrusting himself into her with one strong, firm stroke. Moving with her, riding the waves that had started to thrum through her body. She felt herself explode, her muscles clenching around his long, hard thickness. And then it was Trav’s turn. Up and over he went, gasping, cursing, riding ecstasy. Trav collapsed around her, and reached to cradle her body into his. Eyes closed. Body limp. He pulled and tugged until Tammy was curled up, spooned into him.

  Tammy felt a soft kiss land in the nape of her neck, another on her shoulder. An arm came out to haul the now scrunched-up fluffy doona over them. And then there was nothing other than the soft hoot of a night owl abroad.

  Chapter 31

  Travis lay on the edges of sleep, wondering three things. Why did his arm feel dead? Why there was a drum roll coming from somewhere? And why was there a bright light on in his bedroom? He opened one eye and spied a waterfall of dark brown hair cascading across his chest.

  Then he remembered. And after he glanced at the clock radio, he realised why it was so bright in his bedroom. It was nine am. The only thing he couldn’t work out was the drum roll which had metamorphosed into an insistent thump followed by a voice calling, ‘Trav. Oh, Tra-av?’

  Then there was the sound of a sliding door opening, followed by the swish of drapes. A clicking of high heels on the wooden floor and –

  ‘Travis?’

  He hadn’t seen Jacinta since the night of the dance. Now she was at his bedroom door and the expression on her face was a sight to behold. Shock. Fleeting anger. Disappointment. Then, a bright and brittle smile.

  ‘Hi!’ she said, waggling her fingers in the air. ‘It’s a lovely morning out there!’

  Only a woman like Cin could attempt to make this seem normal, thought Trav, as the woman beside him struggled to sit up. Then, realising she was naked, slunk back down just as fast.

  ‘Hi,’ said Tammy weakly.

  But Trav wasn’t looking at Cin. He was looking at where the doona now only barely covered that glorious body. A body belonging to the woman he had thoroughly loved last night . . . and again in the wee hours of this morning. He felt himself harden at the thought of it.

  ‘Ahem, well. I guess I’ll just go turn the kettle on, shall I?’ said Cin. ‘Give you time to get up?’

  Bugger the Jacintas of the world. He opened his mouth to demand she leave when her words came floating through from the kitchen . . .

  ‘I just called in to say I think there’s something wrong with Billy.’

  Both Trav and Tammy stared at one another in horror. The bed erupted into action. Within minutes both were dressed and colliding with each other as they tumbled through the doorjamb.

  ‘Oooo, be careful. One at a time!’ called Cin, in her best school-marm voice. She was quailed by dagger looks from both parties. ‘Oh, well then,’ she uttered, hesitating a moment before lifting the teapot in the air. ‘Cuppa anyone?’

  ‘What’s wrong with Billy?’ demanded Trav. ‘What’s hap­pened? Where is he? Where’s Joe?’

  Cin looked across the bench in surprise. ‘Oh, I didn’t mean he’s hurt himself or anything. Did he spend the night with Joe? So you two could . . . ? Well, you know?’ Cin waved her arms around and blushed a deep red.

  Trav dropped onto a barstool and buried his face in his hands.

  Tammy automatically placed a comforting palm on his shoulder. ‘And so, Cin, what exactly is wrong with Billy?’

  Cin looked hard at Tammy and then her gaze dropped to the hand sitting on Trav’s flannelette shirt. Tammy quickly snatched it back and moved away.

  Cin grimaced and then heaved a huge sigh. ‘We suspect he’s hearing impaired.’

  Trav’s head reared. ‘He’s what?’

  ‘Hearing impaired. We suspect he’s deaf.’

  ‘I heard what you said the first time!’ Trav’s voice verged on a yell.

  Cin dropped her head, concentrated on making the tea.

  Tammy could see the woman was chewing her bottom lip and about to cry. She pulled up a stool a respectable distance from Travis and dragged her cuppa across the bench, blowing across then slowly sipping the hot brew. ‘What makes you think Billy is deaf?’

  ‘Yeah. Why do you think my son isn’t the full bottle?’

  ‘I didn’t say he wasn’t the full bottle.’ Cin flushed and looked indignant. ‘In fact he’s one of the most switched-on children in my class. What I said was, I think he’s got a hearing problem.’ The woman picked up her coffee and peered at Trav and Tammy through the stream rising from the mug. ‘Remember the note, Trav? The one about the school nurse coming to do a check-up on the children?’

  Trav nodded reluctantly.

  ‘Well, she came yesterday and checked all sorts of things, eyes, ears and so on. Billy didn’t pass the hearing test.’

  Trav stood up, combed his fingers through his rumpled hair. ‘He’s not deaf. He must have been having a bad day. Maybe he wasn’t concentrating.’ He turned to Tammy. ‘You know what he’s like. If he’s not focusing on you or what you’re saying he doesn’t hear a thing. Just goes off into his own little world . . .’ His voice trailed off as he looked up at the ceiling. Tammy could see him replaying in his mind exactly what he’d just said.

  The truth hit.

  Trav couldn’t think straight. No sleep, chasing wild dogs, finally making love to Tammy – and oh, how amazing was that – Cin bursting in on them and now this? Billy was deaf! It was all too much. He needed air.

  He spun and walked out the door of the little house. Down the path. Out the garden gate. Through the bush, following a path barely visible to those who didn’t know it was there. Manuka and dogwood bushes snatched at his sleeves, pulling at the material, trying to hold him back. But he ploughed on, leaving their branches to wave in lonely despair.

  The words that had just turned his whole world upside down were hammering in his head. Billy was deaf.

  His son, Billy, was deaf.

  And it was all his fault. It couldn’t have been Kat’s. She was so perfect, so good.

  She wasn’t good. Look what she did to you and the kid.

  His stride ate up the bush as his thoughts drove arrows through his head. She walked out on you both. Just left you to bring up the kid on your own. Hasn’t even tried to contact you since. Thank goodness those solicitors handled the divorce or you could still be married to her. You don’t even know if she’s alive.

  Course she’s alive. I’d know if she was dead. I’d feel it, somewhere down deep inside.

  Would you? You didn’t know she was going to leave, did you? Did you . . . Did you . . . Did you?

  Then suddenly Lake Grace was in front of him. The massive expanse of water that irrigated around fifty thousand hectares of prime pasture-land in the district of Narree.

  From high upon his hill, he looked down on the weir. Sunlight was glinting off the ochre-coloured lake. A small section of his brain noted the fullness of the weir, a rare sea-eagle gliding the eddies to his south, swooping down every now and then to feast on a kill. The misty haze hung low over the looming blue-grey mountains to the north.

  But otherwise all Travis could see in front of his eyes was an earnest little boy who looked so like his mother, with his red hair and a smattering of freckles. A spindly, funny little kid who every day reminded Trav of what he had lost and how he, Travis, was failing, even now.

  Billy was deaf.
r />   And it was all his fault.

  By the time Trav made it back to the house, Cin was gone. Tammy was chopping kindling. He could hear her distinctive voice even as he came through the tall trees a way back from the house. She appeared to be having an angry one-sided conversation with his dog. ‘Billy’s got a hearing problem. So what? It’s fixable.’

  The axe came down hard. Smack!

  ‘What’s his problem with that?’

  Smack!

  She stood up, stretched her back, looked at the dog like she was expecting him to say something. ‘That’s right. There isn’t a problem.’

  She grabbed another block of wood and set it on the chopping block. ‘So why does he take . . .’

  Smack!

  ‘. . . everything so personally . . .’

  Smack!

  ‘. . . and just . . . just . . . walk right on off?’

  Trav came up to stand behind her. ‘So what am I supposed to do? It’s all my fault.’

  Tammy jumped in the air, dropping the axe, which just missed her foot. ‘For crying out loud! Do you always have to move so quietly?’

  ‘The dog knew I was here.’

  ‘I wasn’t looking at the dog, I was chopping wood.’

  ‘You were talking to the dog.’

  ‘I was not.’

  ‘You were too,’ he said.

  Tammy picked up the axe. What was she going to do with it? ‘I’m heading home.’

  ‘You’re taking the axe?’

  Tammy looked down at the implement then slammed it into the chopping block. ‘No. There’s some kindling. Although you don’t deserve it. Goodbye.’ And she went to walk off, shoulders back, but Trav grabbed her by the elbow as she swung past. Spun her around to face him.

  ‘You’re angry with me. Why?’

  She took a deep breath. ‘Too right I’m angry with you, you self-involved, selfish, arrogant, surly . . .’ She stopped, seemingly lost for more words, before adding, ‘. . . bastard.’

  ‘Would you care to explain exactly why I’m a bastard?’