Man Drought (26 page)

Imogen hadn’t allowed herself to entertain that possibility for a number of reasons. Every time she started to think about merely sleeping with Gibson again, the guilt of how she felt after that one time came rushing back. She couldn’t deal with that on a daily basis. But there was another massive roadblock – one she now realised had never been far from her mind.

‘This is all a moot point anyway,’ she told her friends, ‘because even if I was willing to consider it, he doesn’t want a relationship.’

Out at Roseglen, the blokes were having a ripper of a day.

They’d started by taking Ryan on a jaunt round the property and making him feed the sheep. Gibson was impressed by Ryan’s questions – the city bloke wanted to know everything from what the sheep ate (mostly lupin, which was high-protein and high-energy) to what crop would be sown where over the next few months (a bit of wheat, a bit of canola). Although they came from completely different backgrounds, the three men clicked, and Gibson found himself making plans for catching up with Ryan and Amy in Perth some time, maybe taking in a football game or something.

They enjoyed a man’s lunch of bacon, eggs and beans – their one token vegetable – and then Gibson suggested to Guy they take Ryan stubble-burning for the remainder of the day. He had fences to fix and hadn’t planned on starting burning until next week, but it was definitely more exciting than fencing, which – although it sorted the boys from the men – was as boring as batshit.

For a brief moment after he suggested it, Gibson thought he may have made a massive error of judgement – like, how could he forget the guy’s best mate died fighting a fire? But he let out a breath of relief when Ryan’s eyes lit up in anticipation.

Luckily, the wind was neither too strong or too week, so it was perfect burning-off weather. The men hauled a chilled sixpack of beer and the fire unit onto the back of the ute, and as they drove out to the paddocks, Guy gave their city visitor the lowdown on burning off.

‘We do this every year before seeding. The aim is to reduce the weed and straw burden left over from the previous year and get the paddock ready. It’s not rocket science,’ he explained, ‘but the fire can get away if you’re not careful. One minute it’s burning gently, the next minute, bam! But it does add a bit of excitement.’

Ryan smirked. ‘These fires sound a bit like women, just when you think you’ve got them under control, they prove you wrong.’

‘Amen. Exactly like that,’ Guy agreed.

The blokes laughed as they approached a paddock that had held canola last season. Guy opened and closed the gates as they passed through, and when they arrived at their destination, Gibson parked the ute alongside a rickety fence and they all tumbled out.

His hands on his hips, Ryan surveyed the dry paddock before them. ‘The stubble’s a lot thicker than I imagined.’

Guy nodded. ‘That’s why we want to get rid of as much as possible before seeding. The burning should also kill any weed seeds. See this thing?’ he said, holding up a green stripy sphere.
‘It’s called a paddymelon.’ The paddock was covered in them. ‘It’s a weed from South Africa. Pain in the arse.’

Gibson walked to the back of the ute and retrieved the drip torch: a long metal stick with the handle and fuel container on one end and a wick on the other. Charlie occasionally helped him burn stubble, but he mostly did this job alone since his parents moved to Perth.

One thing about farming was that it often left farmers with far too much time to contemplate. Many men liked this, joking that they spent longer on their tractors than was strictly necessary because it was better than heading indoors and being nagged by the missus. Gibson had been one of those men during those last few months with Serena. He shook himself, hating every time she came into his head. Today, he was happy for the company. Happy not to contemplate any of the issues that currently took up his headspace.

Drip torch in hand, he headed back round the ute to where Guy was giving Ryan a potted history of Westesrn Australian farming. Guy could talk the leg off a piece of furniture, and if he didn’t interrupt, they’d never get anything done.

‘Do you want to do the honours?’ he asked, holding the torch out to Ryan.

‘Really?’ Ryan looked as if Gibson was holding out a python. ‘You sure?’

‘Yeah, definitely.’ He turned to Guy. ‘Do you want to follow us in the ute?’

Nodding, Guy headed back to the vehicle. Trying not to offer a long-winded explanation, Gibson gave Ryan a quick explanation. They’d work round the edge of the paddock first, testing the conditions before going back up and down the middle. The idea was to light up the header trails, where the majority of the rubbish was spat out from the machine during harvest. If he were on his own, he’d have lit the fire by leaning out the side of his ute, but
he wanted to give Ryan the chance to get up close and personal, to see the stubble wilt and the blasted paddymelons blow and pop.

Ryan was a quick learner, and before long the outer border of the paddock was alight. Gibson left Ryan and Guy with a beer each at the gate, and then took the ute, lighting up and down the middle of the paddock. When he’d finished, he headed back to his friends, satisfied a good job had been started.

Guy cracked open a beer, handing it to Gibson as he joined them at the gate.

Ryan held up his bottle. ‘If this is the life of a farmer, I’m seriously in the wrong job.’

Gibson laughed, biting down on the impulse to tell him that this was a luxury. Instead he took a quenching sip of his own drink. Yeah, beer found its way into many farming activities, but sitting idle was rare. Usually, he’d make sure the fire was under control and then head off to the next paddock or another job on the never-ending list of tasks that needed to be completed.

All three men watched the stubble, sipping beer and waiting for someone to break the comfortable silence. Gibson wondered if the other two were thinking about Amy and Jenna, because Lord knows he couldn’t get Imogen out of his head.

As if he was a mind reader, Ryan spoke. ‘So guys, man to man, how’s Imogen really coping out here?’

Gibson shifted uncomfortably against the fence as his grip tightened around the bottle. Guy glanced over.

‘Must admit this move surprised us all,’ Ryan continued. ‘It’s hard, her being so far away. A single woman alone in a pub; she’s the perfect prey for undesirables. I worry about her.’

‘Um …’ Gibson hesitated. If Ryan knew the truth, maybe he’d consider
him
one of those undesirables. Or maybe he already knew.

Guy jumped in before Gibson had the chance to work out what the hell he planned on saying. ‘She’s awesome, mate. I wouldn’t
worry. Aside from running with Gibson, I don’t think I’ve seen her talk to a bloke for longer than five minutes. I’m sure she can hold her own. Besides, she’s one of us now. We’ll look out for her.’

Gibson nodded, hoping Ryan wouldn’t ask about the running.

‘Thanks,’ Ryan said, then turned to Gibson. ‘So you’ve been seeing a bit of her, have you?’

Gibson realised that even if Imogen had told her friends anything, Amy hadn’t passed it on. He aimed for a nonchalant shrug, when his feelings towards her were anything but. ‘We went for a jog once. I agree, she’s a great chick – we’ll make sure none of the blokes take advantage. Hell, she’s being so great with my granddad, I’d do anything for her.’ He held his breath when he’d finished, wondering if his promise had been a little over the top. It was true, though. He
would
do anything for her.

‘Thanks.’ Ryan nodded his appreciation. ‘It’s good to know she’s doing okay. She’s had a rough time and she needs friends around her.’

‘Jenna said Imogen’s husband died.’ Guy said.

‘Yes.’ That one word was jam-packed with choked emotion. ‘It was a shock for us all. Jamie was one of those guys who everyone thought was invincible, he had so much life ahead of him. He’d have made an awesome dad. May sound a bit corny, but I couldn’t wait for us to have kids together. You know, play footy with them, take them camping.’

‘Yeah,’ Guy replied, and took another sip of his beer. ‘So, mate, what’s it like being a dad? Having a rugrat?’

Ryan grinned. ‘The absolute best. No greater feeling than holding the little dude, having him look up into your eyes and smile – even though Amz says it’s just wind at this stage. I already live for him.’

Gibson tried to speak but nothing could push past the lump in his throat. After a few silent moments of contemplation, he tried to redirect the conversation, but every thought that entered his head
revolved around Imogen. ‘So, do you think Imogen will ever move on? Find someone else, maybe settle down?’

Ryan twisted his beer bottle between his thumb and index finger, a pensive expression on his face. ‘You know, I wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t. She’s strong and independent, and although I’d like to see her happy again – and it’s definitely what Jamie would have wanted – I just can’t imagine who could replace him. It’d even be weird for us, accepting someone to fill his spot.’

‘Yeah, right.’ Ryan’s words shouldn’t have made Gibson feel like they did. He stared ahead, noticed a flame that had jumped offtrack. It didn’t look like a serious issue, but he grabbed the chance to get away. ‘Just going to check that out,’ he said, pointing in the direction of the errant flame and launching into a jog. He guessed Guy would be raising his eyebrows at his paranoia, but he didn’t care.

By the time he returned to the gate, the second beers were almost finished. The conversation had moved on to football and Ryan and Guy were making bets about which AFL teams would get through to the grand final.

The afternoon sun was slowing fading. Ryan would likely have stayed on the farm for a couple more hours but Guy was eager to get back to Jenna. And although Gibson wouldn’t admit it, he felt the same about Imogen. The boys packed up the fire gear and headed back to the house. After making plans to meet at the pub, Ryan and Guy drove off to get cleaned up. Gibson fed the dogs, had a lightning-quick shower, took longer than he normally would agonising over which clean shirt to wear, and then drove back into town.

Part of him knew it would be safer to stay away, but Ryan had voiced his hopes that Gibson would be at the pub again tonight, and he wasn’t strong enough to pass up the opportunity of another evening near Imogen.

The Saturday night crowd hadn’t yet arrived at the pub, so Cal pushed Imogen in the direction of her friends. ‘How often do you get to hang out with them?’ she asked. ‘Go and have fun. I’ll call if I need help.’

Ryan had come back from the farm that afternoon, beaming and full of stories about their day. Somehow Amy had shut him up long enough to push him into the shower to get the smell of smoke out of his hair. Jenna had gone to Guy’s place for a few hours, but now they were back, settled at the same table they’d occupied the night before.

After a brief hesitation, Imogen relented and approached the table with a tray of drinks. Gibson wasn’t there, and as she handed round the glasses, she bit down on the urge to ask the guys whether he was coming in tonight. If she mentioned him, Jenna and Amy would toss knowing smiles her way, and she wouldn’t be able to stop the spread of red up her neck and all over her face. She wasn’t sure whether she wanted him here or not – last night had been awkward enough with them the only two not coupled off – but her friends knowing she’d slept with him would take awkward to a whole other level.

Still, she did want to see him. His wry grin, which took a lot to elicit, had become more frequent in the pub. When it wasn’t making her knees weak, it made her feel comfortable – safe, somehow.

She tried to concentrate on the conversation going on around her, but her mind was snagged on one thing:
Am I willing to consider a relationship?

As much as she didn’t want to contemplate this question, she couldn’t stop. Doubts had been planted from all directions – Jenna, Amy, Charlie, even simply watching other couples interact. She missed that. She missed the intimacy – not sexual, although that
would be an added bonus – you had with a boyfriend, a husband, a lover.

When she curled up in bed at night, she still talked to Jamie, but she didn’t need their nightly conversations to keep her going anymore. Once, they’d been the highlight of her day, but now there was something else,
someone
else she looked forward to even more.

That was Gibson Black.

Oh Lord!
Rarely feeling the inclination to swear, Imogen suddenly thought of a number of words she wanted to shout out loud. And they were all words that would have her mother washing her mouth out with soap.

Of all the men she could have chosen, she had to fall for – if that’s what this was – one who swore black and blue he was never getting married again. Not that she’d gotten as far as contemplating marriage, but she was a traditional kind of girl. Casual sex might scratch an itch, but in her opinion, sex was overrated unless it came in a package alongside friendship, a future and love. Sex without strings hadn’t worked for her. Was Amy right? Was it because deep down she wanted more?

Her heart skipped a few beats at the thought. She’d come to Gibson’s Find alone, relishing the chance to be independent, to show her friends and family that she could make a new life for herself. Could it be that new life would involve something she’d never imagined possible?

‘What are you smiling at?’ Guy asked, before taking a long sip of his beer.

‘You two,’ she said, thinking quickly and gesturing to the new lovebirds. Maybe she wasn’t crazy about Gibson, maybe it was simply loved-up Jenna and Guy and gorgeous little Gibby playing havoc with her emotions. ‘It’s hard not to.’

Guy grinned as he pulled Jenna even closer. Both men seemed to accept this excuse, but Jenna and Amy scrutinised her. She
ignored them, staring into the pram at their side. ‘Can I have a cuddle?’

‘Sure.’ Amy lifted baby Gibson out of the pram and handed him to Imogen. Conversation flowed – everything from the boys’ day out at Roseglen to the Man Drought weekend and Jenna’s latest exhibition – until Ryan lifted a hand to wave at someone who’d just walked in the door and Imogen’s whole body seized up.