Hope's Road Read online

  ‘I really need to get back to town,’ Katrina muttered to Trav while they were waiting for Billy to bring out his favourite truck.

  ‘Why so hasty?’ He watched as she squirmed like a worm trying its damnedest to snig itself off a sharp hook.

  ‘I need to get ready for tonight. You don’t seem to understand, Travis. It’s really important to me.’

  Trav pushed himself off the verandah pole against which he’d been leaning, shocked at the anger which was surging through him. ‘No, Katrina, you don’t seem to understand. This boy is your son. Your own flesh and blood. He’s supposed to be important to you.’

  Startled, wide-eyed, Katrina was like a gazelle in the sights of a .243 rifle. She swayed a moment like she didn’t know which way to turn. ‘I’ve worked hard to get myself to this point, Travis. You don’t know how difficult it’s been to try and prove myself.’

  ‘Believe me, lady, I’ve got a pretty fair idea.’ He shook his head in wonder at her self-absorption.

  ‘Mum! Mum!’ Billy broke in. ‘This is my most favourite truck ever.’ The boy shoved a shiny black Western Star Prime Mover into Katrina’s hands. With a shy smile, he added, ‘You can have it if you want. Can’t she, Dad?’

  Trav looked at Katrina. Saw her sudden withdrawal. An indistinct little movement but to a dog trapper trained to observe it was as clear as a full moon on a dark night.

  And his heart went out to Billy. He wondered what he was going to do, what he was going to say to his son to alleviate the pain when his mother was gone. Again.

  They dropped Katrina off around five o’clock. Her dinner date wasn’t until seven but she was as keen to get away from them as Trav was to see her go.

  Clearly in Katrina’s world, she came before anything else. Had it always been like that? Even way back when they’d been together?

  With startling clarity, Trav realised it had. And when he’d told her how he saw it, she’d got angry . . . just like he’d got this morning with old Joe. No wonder Joe had been so pissed off with him. In his own way, Travis was no better than Kat. All this time he’d been trying to convince himself that everything he’d done this past six years had been for his son. But in reality it had all been for himself. To hold hard to the security of the boundary fence – hold hard to what he knew – rather than wander off a well-worn track and delve into something new.

  Billy didn’t say much at tea. They’d gone to the pub anyway, and it wasn’t a success. He stared across the table at his child. At the kid’s thatch of red hair, his hazel eyes. The face, which was even now screwed up in concentration as he tried to read the wine list sitting between them. Studiously avoiding looking at his father.

  Trav’d really buggered it up. But there was time to change. He just had to find a way to get off the fence.

  Chapter 45

  The phone rang on the bedside table beside Tammy. She slung out an arm, and answered it with a voice groggy from sleep.

  ‘Rob Sellers here, Tammy.’

  The man sounded exhausted. ‘Yes, Rob?’ said Tammy as she struggled to sit up. She took a look at the clock. It was five in the morning. She couldn’t believe she’d finally slept. She hadn’t dropped her head on the pillow until well past midnight.

  ‘It’s a big one and it’s on its way,’ said Rob.

  ‘How much water?’

  ‘About ninety thousand megalitres.’

  Ninety thousand? That was beyond a major flood. Tammy swallowed, trying to stem the tide of panic rushing through her body.

  ‘You ready, girl?’

  ‘Yep. About as ready as I’ll ever be.’ Far out. How was the old place going to handle that much water? Maybe she should sandbag the back of the house?

  ‘Stay safe then,’ said Rob as he rang off.

  Tammy struggled out of bed. Cocked her ear, thinking she’d heard a rifle shot.

  She donned her milking clothes, grabbed a piece of toast and headed out into the rain, to bring in her cows to milk and face whatever the day was going to bring.

  Ninety thousand megalitres? Tammy shuddered. Montmorency had never seen a flood that size in her lifetime.

  Travis Hunter was ecstatic. He’d finally shot the damn wild dog. He’d got it right on dawn, in the pouring rain, just as the bastard came under the fence and was heading for a cow giving birth. The dog had stopped to lap up some calf shit, the look on the scraggy face blissful as it tasted all that creamy muck.

  Trav got that black head in the crosshairs of his .243 rifle, propped up on a bipod, sucked in a breath to steady himself and squeezed the trigger.

  Bang!

  The shot rang out from his gun. The wild dog was punched in the head by the bullet, dead centre of the eyes. It was a classy piece of work. Finally, he was in the right place at the right time. Trav breathed a normal breath. Thank God that job was done. He’d grab the carcass and head back up to Belaren. He’d left Billy up there on his own. He ignored the nagging voice in his head that he was just putting off seeing Tammy. Go visit her now, you gutless bastard, it said.

  Trav walked the boundary fence to his ute. Dragged the carcass over the wire. Stashed his rifle in the locker on the trayback and threw in the body of the dog. With a determined set to his jaw, he pointed the ute in the direction of Belaren.

  Old Joe was worried. It was seven in the morning and in the still air he could hear the klaxon sirens going off up at the weir wall to warn anyone who was downstream fishing that they were about to let a shitload of water go. Rob Sellers had rung earlier to let him know – even though up on his rocky hill he had no country that would be flood-affected, it was still good to be kept in the loop.

  There was a bloody lot of water to come down the river. More than he’d ever seen before. He might get a better view of the valley below if he crossed to the edge of the hill. He reefed himself out of his chair and limped to the verandah steps but changed his mind. Thank goodness he didn’t seem to have done any more damage to his hip when he fell yesterday, just bruising, but climbing down those steps might be pushing the friendship a bit. He shuffled back to his chair. Cursed – he didn’t have any binoculars. He’d lent them to bloody Hunter for tracking that wild dog. He picked up his gun again. Even though the gun scope gave him a narrow view, it was better than nothing.

  The rain was still falling and he’d seen lights moving around for what seemed like half the night down on Montmorency Downs. That conniving little strumpet dropping her fences, no doubt.

  Travis Hunter hadn’t lit his fire this morning either, causing Joe to wonder where the hell the man was. ‘Probably with that ex-wife of his,’ he muttered to Boots as he rocked his chair back and forth. ‘I don’t know why the man would want to go near that woman after all she’s done to him.’

  Boots whimpered in return. ‘Argh, Boots, what would I do without you to talk to, mate?’

  The phone rang. An old-fashioned trill, urgent in its appeal. Could he be bothered? Was there anyone he really wanted to talk with today? Hardly. They’d all shown their true colours and pissed off.

  The damned thing rang and rang. As Joe didn’t have an answering service there wasn’t anything to stop it. Bugger. He’d better get up and answer the bloody piece of junk.

  Joe staggered to his feet and shuffled into the house.

  ‘McCauley,’ he said into the receiver, annoyance apparent. He listened to the voice on the other end of the phone. ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Nup,’ said Joe, in response to a question. He listened some more while he swung around towards the front verandah. He could hear Boots moving across the boards, like he was dragging something. Damned dog. He’d probably got hold of Joe’s gumboot. He’d give that dog what-for in a minute. He refocused back on the phone conversation. What was that about Billy?

  ‘Fuck,’ he said into the phone. And then his world fell away.

  Trav couldn’t find B
illy. He’d called him. ‘Billy!’

  He trailed around the kid’s favourite haunts on Belaren, his panic increasing as each spot yielded no sign of him. Where the hell could he be this early in the morning? Maybe Tammy’s or Joe’s? But last night he’d promised to hang around while Trav went to stake out the dog.

  Trav searched for some clues. The kid normally took his pushbike when he was heading to Tammy’s and the old BMX was still leaning up against the shed, so that counted her out. Plus seeing he’d just been down there Trav was sure he’d have spotted him somewhere. He heard the insidious voice in the back of his mind whispering, You should have gone and seen her.

  He shut that thought down. He’d ring Joe, even though their last words to each other hadn’t been the best. As he ran towards the house, he cocked his ear at the sound of a sudden district siren.

  A flood? He raced inside and there, on the bench, was the answering machine blinking. He hit the play button. ‘Rob Sellers here, Hunter. A big flood’s coming. Just thought you should know. Can you look out for Tammy for me? She’s down at Montmorency on her own. Thanks, mate. Ring me if you need anything.’

  Now he really needed to find Billy. He dialled Joe’s number. Waited and waited until he finally answered, ‘McCauley.’

  The old man didn’t sound happy to be disturbed. Well, bugger him. Billy was more important right now.

  ‘Joe, it’s Hunter here.’

  ‘What do you want?’

  ‘Is Billy there?’

  ‘Nup.’

  ‘Shit. He’s not here either. He was supposed stay put until I got back. I’ve been down at Tammy’s. Shot the wild dog this morning. Got back and Billy was gone.’

  ‘Fuck,’ said Joe. And then there was an almighty crash on the other end of the phone.

  ‘Joe? Joe? Goddamn it, Joe!’

  ‘I’m still here. Me hip just gave way. Tryin’ to see what the damn dog’s doin’.’

  ‘Are you all right? I’ll come over.’

  ‘Fuck off,’ the old man said. ‘I’m all right. Get out and find that boy.’

  ‘You sure?’

  ‘Course I’m fuckin’ sure.’

  Trav hung up and took off at a run. Where the hell should he start looking?

  Joe slowly got back up onto his feet, using the solid oak telephone table to aid him. In swinging around to check on the dog the pain in his hip had dropped him like a sinker on a fishing line. He’d hit the floor with a dull thud.

  Now his thoughts were running rampant. Where was Billy? He’d better not be down on the flats; the flood would be here in no time and the kid wouldn’t stand a chance. Water was insidious. It rushed into places you wouldn’t have believed possible. After a lifetime of watching floods and their consequences, Joe could feel his heart starting to hammer with panic. He couldn’t believe how much that boy had come to feel like his own. He’d never forgive Hunter if something happened to Billy. He’d never forgive himself. Maybe he would see something through the gun sight. He’d give it a whirl – anything to find the child before the water found him.

  Joe carefully limped back towards the front verandah using the wall to steady himself. At the screen door he paused. No Boots. Where the hell was that damned dog? Probably lit out for the sheds knowing Joe’d be after him for chewing on his gummies.

  Joe kept moving, eyes focused on the gun, until he glimpsed a scrap of black. Then some shaggy white. What the hell?

  He shuffled towards the steps, peered down over the verandah and saw Boots lying in the rain, the rubber side of a gumboot propped in his mouth. ‘Ya bugger of a dog. Get back up here and help me look for this boy.’

  The dog was on his tummy and facing towards the valley of Narree.

  ‘Boots! Get up here, ya mangey old bastard.’

  The dog was still. Didn’t even look up at the sound of Joe’s voice.

  Cold dread started to trickle down Joe’s spine. A leaden feeling pitted his tummy. He tried calling again, hesitant and soft. ‘Boots?’

  The dog and boot just lay still in the rain.

  He didn’t even think about the steps, didn’t even consider the fact he might be risking his gammy hip. He just launched himself towards his best mate lying in the slop and mud. He stumbled the last few feet, threw himself forwards so that he landed right beside the dog. He tried to lift the animal but the weight was too much and man and dog slid sideways into the muck. Joe buried his face into the wet, shaggy mane of the border collie – the friend who’d never left his side for sixteen long years.

  ‘Boots?’ whispered Joe. His chest started to convulse with sobs. ‘Oh, Boots,’ he said again. He let out a howl of despair that echoed across the expanse of McCauley’s Hill, the place he and Boots had shared so much.

  And then he just lay with the dog at the foot of the steps. Allowed the cold and wet to seep into his bones. For Joe McCauley didn’t care about much of anything any more.

  Chapter 46

  Tammy had finished milking in record time. The cows were in the house paddock, close to the homestead, one of the highest pieces of ground. That’d have to do. The cows and calves were on the other side of the house behind some cypress pines and poplars. The wild dog hadn’t come back yet after his last little effort, which was a relief. She guessed Travis would be too busy with Katrina to be worrying about staking out her paddock anyway. He had bigger fish to fry than looking out for Tammy McCauley.

  She tried to push the Hunter family from her mind. The sooner she sold those paintings or used them as fertiliser pallets the better. Or maybe she could give them to Lucy for her birthday. She hadn’t seen or heard from her best friend since the gallery opening.

  The mobile in her pocket started to vibrate. The damned thing had been rattling all morning with farmers up and down the river trying to find out what was going on with the weir and the water. The weir keepers were flat out trying to balance water inflows and outflows in an effort to limit the damage to farms downstream. She wouldn’t like to be in their shoes, that’s for sure.

  ‘Tammy McC –’

  ‘Tammy, it’s Travis . . .’

  What did he want? Was he ringing to see how she was faring? Had Rob been talking to him?

  ‘I’m just wondering if you’ve seen Billy?’

  How stupid of her to think he might be interested in her welfare while facing down the biggest flood in history.

  ‘Nope. He’s not here. Why do you ask?’

  There was silence then Travis’s voice came back, strained and fraught. ‘He’s missing, Tammy. I can’t find him. I went down to your place this morning to stake out the dog and he promised to stay put. But now he’s gone.’

  Alarm scrambled through Tammy’s body. She remembered the shot she thought she’d heard earlier. Not Billy. Please not Billy.

  ‘You didn’t shoot him by mistake, did you? A ricochet or something?’

  ‘No!’ yelled Trav. ‘What do you think I am?’

  Tammy felt instant remorse as she heard the stress in the man’s voice.

  ‘I only shot the dog. I got him, Tammy. But I can’t find my son.’

  The hairs at the back of Tammy’s neck prickled. ‘Travis, you have to find him! There’s a huge flood coming. Water’s going to be everywhere down here shortly.’ She stopped. ‘What about Joe? Have you tried him?’

  ‘He’s not there either. I’ve looked everywhere I can think of, and I can’t find him. His bike’s still here – everything is still here. He’s disappeared into thin air.’

  Tammy thought quickly about Billy. Where would he have gone that was beyond Belaren, Joe’s and Montmorency? ‘What about your mother in Lake Grace? Would he be there?’

  ‘Can’t think why.’

  ‘How about Katrina? Would he have hitched a ride into Narree?’

  ‘Oh God, hadn’t thought of that,’ said Travis. There was a death
ly silence. ‘I hadn’t thought of that at all. Might be worth a try. He was pretty pissed off with me last night . . .’

  Tammy held her breath, hoping he’d continue. Why had Billy been pissed off?

  ‘Kat came out here for a look around. We thought we’d have some tea together but Kat had other dinner arrangements. Billy thought it was all my fault. We took her back to the motel . . .’

  Did they stay the night?

  ‘. . . so she could get ready. Billy and I ate by ourselves and then came home.’

  Tammy sighed with relief but then realised Trav probably heard it. Damn, did she have to be so obvious about it all? ‘Your best bet might be to ring . . . Katrina.’ Tammy mentally cursed as her voice quivered on saying the woman’s name. ‘In the meantime I’ll try and think of anywhere else he would be.’ Anything to get him off the phone, away from her traitorous voice, and out looking for Billy.

  ‘Good idea. I’ll get back to you shortly,’ said Travis before disconnecting.

  Great. So she now had a flood, a missing child, and a man she wanted badly but couldn’t have to contend with. Not to mention a deceitful, faithless husband, an irate uncle and a property that was about to be sold from beneath her.

  She shuddered. Take things one step at a time, like her grandfather always told her.

  First, and most important, was Billy. Where else could he have gone? Her eyes wandered across the landscape she could see from the milk-room doorway. As she scanned the paddocks her mind dismissed places one by one. She hesitated at the sight of the huge red gums that lined the river. Fishing? Maybe the child had taken it into his head to go fishing. In the rain? Knowing Billy’s idiosyncrasies, it was possible.

  She hated going near the river. Her mother had been lost in its murky depths. Tammy contemplated the huge trees for a few more minutes. She’d never forgive herself if Billy was down there with a wall of water about to descend. She ran for the four-wheel-drive. She might just make it there and back before the road was cut off. It was worth a try.