Outback Sunset (21 page)

Working one-handed was a handicap and, grunting with the effort it took, she loosened the saddle’s girth strap and pulled it off Runaway’s back. She used the saddle blanket to rub the mare down as best she could, fearing the horse would take a chill overnight if she didn’t. Doing that task sapped most of her energy but, soldiering on, she then emptied the contents of her saddlebags. Not much joy there, and no food. There was some water in her flask, but it was less than a third full. No matches to light a fire either because that was Warren’s area of expertise. All of which meant that she was going to be bloody cold, all night. Daytime temperatures in July could reach a pleasant thirty to thirty-five degrees centigrade, with low humidity, but inland, at night, the mercury could fall to almost zero because, technically, it was winter.

As she looked up at a darkening, cloud-scattered sky, she knew that at least she wouldn’t get wet. Some consolation, she supposed. Moving awkwardly, gritting her teeth against the pain, she put on the extra clothes lying on the ground — a T-shirt and a lightweight zip-up jacket. She could only get one arm in her jacket and had to drape the other side over her left shoulder. It wasn’t going to be very warm because it was cotton with a light interlock lining. Her gaze fell upon Runaway’s saddle blanket. Her nose wrinkled at how it would smell but, she sighed, it was better than nothing.

Tether Runaway, she reminded herself. Taking the reins she roped them over a low bush, under which lay a patch of yellow grass for the horse to feed on. She didn’t want the mare to wander off during the
night because she was her only company. As twilight darkened the area around the boulders she looked at Runaway. She made a miserable picture. Parts of her coat remained covered in dollops of red dust — almost as if she had chickenpox. Vanessa giggled. The thought was ridiculous and it made her wonder if she was becoming delirious. She could well imagine Curtis’s expression if she said that out loud — about the chickenpox. There were times when he wasn’t blessed with a great sense of humour, not like Bren.

Bren … Thinking about him made her remember their talks about being lost in the bush. He had, quite cheerily, told her several harrowing stories. Don’t think about that now, she thought. She would remember the survival rules he had drummed into her. Like staying put, conserving energy and water, and in the day, finding and staying in the shade. Her stomach grumbled and her mouth watered at the thought of the meal Warren had promised to serve that night. A rich beef stew and … there would be fresh damper and golden syrup to pour over it.

She stared at the setting sun, a ball of red fire that dulled the clear blue sky and tinted the clouds a soft, baby pink. Most days she tried to watch the sunset, if time and work allowed, because more often than not they were so special, as was tonight’s sunset. Once the ball of fire slipped over the horizon, twilight didn’t linger. One minute towards the west came a final splutter of light, then a blackness so dark that Vanessa couldn’t distinguish her hand in front of her face, other than by feeling her breath exhaling onto it. It was going to be a very long night
… but she expected a half moon to rise later on. She wouldn’t feel so alone then, she told herself, with the moonlight shining down.

Dear God, but she was tired. She ached all over from the fall and it was worse, damned near unbearable, around her shoulder. In the dark she fumbled around until she found the blanket, then she curled her body into a ball. Finding a comfortable position took ages, but when she did she pulled the blanket over her, closed her eyes and willed sleep to overtake her.

Nova, Warren and Tony sat disconsolately around the camp fire staring, trance-like, into its warming glow. They had managed to locate each other before sunset and make camp. Vanessa not being there had them all concerned.

‘She’s a smart lady, she’ll be all right,’ Warren said. An hour ago he had thrown ingredients — diced potatoes, carrots and sun-dried tomatoes, dried bacon pieces, thick, juicy cuts of beef, and two cans of beans, then added water — into a large skillet over the open flame to make the stew. Freshly rolled damper, wrapped in silver foil was cooking in the outer embers of the fire and water was bubbling in the billy.

‘When the moon comes up, one of us has to drive back to Amaroo and tell Curtis,’ Nova, who’d automatically taken charge, decreed gloomily.

Why hadn’t she told Vanessa to follow her when she’d ridden off to warn Tony? Vanessa being lost out in the bush wasn’t going to show her in a good light. Those who lived at Amaroo had expectations
of her, especially Curtis. Bloody Vanessa, she cursed her roundly and silently, because she knew she would receive everyone’s censure for Bren’s wife being lost. Damn it all to hell, this was something she didn’t need, now or ever.

‘That’ll take all night. Why not wait till morning? We might pick up her trail before we have to alarm everyone,’ Tony suggested.

‘What if we don’t?’ she threw back. ‘If Amaroo doesn’t know till half way through the morning there’ll be fewer daylight hours for the choppers to search. It’s better that they know tonight.’

‘It’s my fault, I suppose. I’m the fool who lost the uhf hand-held, racing to get away from the storm,’ Tony admitted. He grimaced as he rubbed his thigh, because the leg he’d broken a while ago ached after a full day in the saddle.

‘That was an accident, mate. We were all trying to outrun the storm. No one’s gonna point a finger at you for that.’ Warren tried to make Tony, who shared the stockman’s quarters with him, feel less guilty. ‘Could have been any one of us.’

‘Reckon Curtis and Bren mightn’t see it that way,’ Tony muttered, his craggy features glum.

An impatient Nova interrupted their debate. ‘That’s not important now. We have to concentrate on informing Amaroo, quickly! As I have the best idea as to which way Vanessa went, I’ll go back. Agreed?’ She looked at both men, one eyebrow raised, waiting for their reply. They both nodded in agreement.

As soon as Warren dished the stew out she tucked into the hot meal. She ate in silence, but all the while
she worried about the development with Vanessa. The woman was capable — hadn’t she watched her grow and develop new skills since she had come to Amaroo — but being alone in the bush, unsure of what to do, would really test the Englishwoman’s fortitude.

H
ell’s bells, I don’t believe it. Stuart and his bloody boat — they’re out of hf range,’ Curtis told Nova as he sat at the desk in the office. He clicked the microphone off and threw the pencil he’d been doodling with onto the desk’s mahogany surface, frustration evident in his gesture. ‘Diane said she’s been trying to contact Stuart since last night because he didn’t call in as usual. She can’t raise them and this isn’t the first time he’s gone off the air. Some problem with the electronics equipment. Damned annoying.’

Nova had driven most of the night and arrived at Amaroo after sunrise to raise the alarm. She looked and was, exhausted. ‘Fran can keep trying to contact Bren. It’s more important that we get the choppers up and locate Vanessa quickly.’ She glanced at him, saw his anger, and her gaze skittered away again. ‘Should we ask Simon at Linford Downs to join the search?’

‘Good idea and time is of the essence, so they say,’ he agreed. ‘I’ll call Simon now and ask him. Reg can take the older Robinson, I’ll take the newer one.’ He pulled open a drawer and took out a map of the
station’s perimeters. ‘Let’s go over this again. Where do you think she might have gone?’

Nova pointed to where they’d been herding the mob and where the dust storm had blown in. ‘I’m coming with you. If she isn’t found today …’ Nova began but then hesitated. She didn’t want to finish the sentence but she didn’t have to — they both knew. Vanessa could be injured, and if that were the case she might be in a bad way physically and mentally if she wasn’t found today.

Curtis stared, his glance raking from the top of Nova’s head down to her boots. ‘Like hell you are. You’re done in.’ He shook his head firmly. ‘You need several hours sleep, Nova, four at least.’

Nova’s shoulders slumped forward as she sought to plead. ‘But … ’

His words came out as a half growl. ‘No buts. The state you’re in, you’re no good to me or anyone else. Get some sleep. Later, you can relieve Fran and take over the hf.’ He saw tears in her eyes and his voice softened as he added, ‘You know I’m right.’ A muscular arm went around her shoulder and he gave her a brotherly hug. ‘Reg and I will find Vanessa and we’ll do it today.’

Nova watched him stride out of the homestead’s office, and when he was out of sight she collapsed into the desk’s chair and, overwrought, burst into tears. Curtis hadn’t laid any blame on her, Tony or Warren, but as she’d driven through the night, a sense of guilt regarding Vanessa’s disappearance had multiplied, not so much because Bren’s wife was unaccounted for, but for what Curtis would think of her. That he would be disappointed in her
was something she couldn’t bear to think about. What she had done had been done with the best of intentions and in hindsight — a wonderful but useless attribute — she should have had Vanessa ride with her instead of directing her south. Vanessa wasn’t like the rest of them, not yet. She didn’t know the country as well as others at Amaroo, she lacked experience to survive with bush know-how!

Curtis, when he took the time to analyse what had happened would realise that and apportion some blame for this situation to her. Christ, she didn’t need him to think badly of her when she wanted him to fall in love with her. She didn’t need that at all.

Bren sat harnessed into the padded, rotating chair at the back of Stuart’s boat. They were in deep water, approximately forty kilometres off the coast and roughly level with the town of Derby though they couldn’t see it. Stuart’s sonar, his ‘fish finder’, had picked up a school of large fish which possibly included marlin, and they were cruising at a low speed in the middle of them waiting for a bite. He squinted as he stared at the deep blue ocean. The sun had been up for an hour, the swell was smooth, conditions perfect for the kind of fishing they planned to do. Stuart had said that all he had to do was hook one and play the fish till it tired, then haul it into the boat.

He grunted to himself. Stuart made it sound easy but he knew it wasn’t. They had gone deep-water fishing when he and Vanessa had been in Broome
and he had loved the challenge of it. Real man stuff and very different to herding cattle. He should be feeling guilty for being here, enjoying himself, instead of being on the muster, but he didn’t. Sometimes a man needed time off, away from the tedium of doing the same chores year in, year out. That was something his uncle understood but he knew Curtis didn’t.

At times he envied Stuart’s kind of life. A successful businessman and recognised as such, he had so much money he didn’t know what to do with it; hence this toy — the twelve metre cruiser with its powerful twin engines, capable of taking the six-berther wherever he chose to direct it. Thinking of boats, and being on the water, made him recall the time he and Vanessa had taken her friend’s barge to Oxford. That had been his first experience on the water. It was different to what he was doing now, but, Christ, he had enjoyed it. He smiled as he released several more metres of line, trolling the lure. The best part had been being with Vanessa and them making love for the first time.

Vanessa
. Where would he be without his clever wife? His grin widened as he thought about what she had achieved since she’d come to live at Amaroo. She was becoming quite the outback woman and relished the challenges that came with living in a rough, inhospitable land. Now she had her chopper licence — she’d passed the test — that would make her more independent. She could visit Lauren and her boys, get to know her sister-in-law better. His wife continued to surprise him with her ability to learn new skills, and she surprised Curtis
too! He chuckled under his breath as he thought that. His brother was, grudgingly, amazed at how she’d settled in, even if he remained unwilling to admit that she was doing well.

The index finger of his right hand, lightly touching the line, felt it go taut then the tip of the rod bent downwards. Something had taken his bait and it was big. He braced his feet against the bar bolted to the deck, put there for that purpose, and gave his quarry some slack then he reeled in, a little at a time. Suddenly there was a splash and about forty metres south-west of the stern a fish jumped clear of the water — a blue marlin. It was a bloody beauty.

Stuart came to the stern and put his hand on Bren’s shoulder. ‘Don’t rush. It has more strength than you do. You have to tire it out, play it, reel it in a little at a time.’

‘Yeah, I hope I can do that before it tires me out.’

Stuart laughed. ‘By the way, the ship to shore’s still on the fritz. Bloody thing’s probably short-circuited.’

Bren threw him a glance. Stuart was a better than average handyman who could fix most mechanical problems. ‘Should we be worried?’

Stuart shrugged his shoulders. ‘No, before we left I told Diane where we were going and how long we’d be. She’ll be cranky that I didn’t call in last night, but she knows that sometimes boats get out of range. We’ll have another day here, then put what we catch in the boat’s freezer and head back. Okay?’

‘Mmm, Curtis will be pissed off. I’ll miss the muster.’

Stuart’s gaze hardened. ‘So what? He can handle things and you need some R and R. Surely he doesn’t begrudge you that? There’s a lot of pressure running a station the size of Amaroo.’

‘True,’ Bren was quick to agree. His uncle understood the pressures, much better than Vanessa and Curtis did. He tossed aside the thought of Curtis’s annoyance. Vanessa’s too. He’d make it up to them both by bringing back a stack of marlin steaks for Fran to do a seafood cook-up. The marlin surged out of the water again and flopped back down, creating a foamy splash. He forgot about Amaroo, forgot about Vanessa, and concentrated on landing his catch.

Shivering almost uncontrollably from the cold — it had seeped into her bones during the night — Vanessa saw the sun rise over a scrubby plain. Her expressive eyes bleak, she watched shadows under low bushes shrink away as the sun rose in a cloudless sky. Weatherwise it was another perfect day. However, as far as she was concerned matters were far from perfect! The night, even after the moon came up, had seemed interminable. The pain in her shoulder ranged from excruciating to almost but not quite bearable, and the foreignness of being outdoors with no camp fire, the chill as the temperature dropped dramatically, and the sound of a pack of dingoes howling in the distance, had heightened her sense of aloneness.