Right As Rain (13 page)

Maybe her dad was concerned about the expense of renovating the old place. The kitchen was ready to be installed. They were just waiting on the new oven and cooktop. The freight company had already collected them so they should arrive any day.

A tingle of excitement bubbled up as she thought of the farm gate outlet she was so close to creating. She was determined it would be successful and her parents would have nothing to worry about other than turning customers away. Of course once things started happening there, Louise would soon know all about it. Maybe that's what was worrying Lyle. He hadn't explained the current plan for the old house.

Mackenna had spoken to Cam about it this morning. He hadn't been at all concerned about staying in the main house. Quite liked running into her in the mornings, he'd quipped. She hadn't bothered to tell him she was planning to move to the old place. In fact now that she thought about it there was nothing to stop her moving in straight away.

The tray-top pulled up behind her.

“No more holes,” her father called.

Mackenna whistled up King and then climbed into the passenger seat.

“I'd better get you back to the house,” Lyle said. “Aren't you supposed to be helping your mother?”

Mackenna looked at her watch. “Damn it, yes. I have to make sausage rolls for her fundraiser tomorrow.” Mackenna was beginning to feel weary but instead of knocking off she had to wash up and start cooking.

They pulled up near the back gate and Lyle gave her a pat on the knee. “Your mother appreciates your help, love. Just like I do.” He gave her an apologetic smile.

“Farming's what I love, Dad,” she said. “And I don't mind doing the odd bit of cooking now and then. I just forgot about the sausage rolls.”

“Make sure some of them stay in our fridge,” he said before he drove away.

Mackenna rushed inside to wash up, calling out to her mother as she passed the kitchen. The aroma of warm chocolate cake wafted after her.

“Smells good,” she said as she returned. All around the kitchen, baked items were lined up in varying stages of production. The cause of the delicious aroma was the tray of little cakes her mother had just pulled from the oven.

“Is that the time?” Louise said. “No wonder I'm bushed. I've been going at this since lunch.”

“The reason you're bushed, Mum, is you've cooked enough to feed a small army. Isn't anyone else doing anything?”

“Yes, but we're expecting a big crowd at the luncheon. All our efforts are going to the hospital fund and people all over the place are doing things.”

“We don't want
you
ending up in the hospital.”

“I'm alright,” Louise said and slipped her apron over her head. “I think I'll sit down for a while, though, and have a cuppa. Your pork and chicken mince has defrosted. I put it back in the fridge.”

“Okay.” Mackenna began pulling out bowls and the other ingredients she would need.

“You know, we haven't had a chance to have a proper talk about your holiday.”

Mackenna glanced at her mother. She was sitting with her feet up, resting on a second chair.

“I'd particularly like to hear about New Zealand.”

“I'll have to transfer my photos.”

“I'd like to see them.”

Mackenna remembered the bag of brochures and leaflets she'd brought back with her. They were still in her backpack on the bedroom floor. “I've got a pile of tourist stuff you could look at.”

She whipped up to her room and dug out the white plastic bag. It was quite heavy. Silly to have lugged it all home, but at least her parents might find it useful.

The next hour passed quickly as Mackenna cooked and her mother flicked through the brochures asking questions as she came to things that interested her. Finally she packed them back into the bag.

“I haven't made it through half of the pile yet,” she said.

“Some of the brochures are from my American trip,” Mackenna said. “Not sure what I'm going to do with it all.”

“Oh well,” Louise said, slipping her apron back on,”they're a kind of memento. I'd like to keep them to look at later if that's okay.”

“Of course.”

“Thanks, love. And thanks for all this.” Louise waved her hand over the sausage rolls, some cooling and more waiting to go in the oven. She reached up and kissed Mackenna on the cheek. “You're a great cook. I really appreciate your help.”

“I don't mind helping,” Mackenna said as a wave of happiness swept over her. This was more like the mother she knew.

Hugh drove up the Birches' driveway and stopped near the back door. Both dogs came running at the sound of his vehicle. He hoped Mackenna would be around somewhere. This wasn't a work visit, although he could check on the rams while he was here. It was more about avoiding going home. His last client had only been a short distance away, and on a whim he'd driven to Woolly Swamp instead of in the opposite direction to Morning Star. His mother was out for the evening and Hugh wasn't in the mood for a stilted conversation with his father.

He got out and patted the dogs.

“Hello, Hugh.” Louise Birch came towards him along the path from the house. “I thought I heard a vehicle. Lyle's not here at the moment, can I make you a cup of tea?”

“It's really a social call,” he said. “I was hoping to catch Mackenna.”

“Oh, of course.” Louise beamed at him. “She was up at the sheds but then she did say something about the old house. She's had workmen over there doing something.”

“Okay, I'll check it out.” He got back into his four-wheel drive.

“If you're not rushing off, I've got a roast cooking. There's plenty if you'd like to stay for dinner.” Louise continued to smile at him.

“Oh, thanks, I'm not sure . . .”

“Well, when you find Mackenna let her know I've invited you.” She patted his hand, which was resting on the open window frame.

“Thanks,” he said again as he reversed away.

That was odd. Louise Birch was usually a direct, no-nonsense kind of woman but she'd been almost – what was the word – gushing. Hugh cruised past the sheds and came to a stop beside the Birches' truck. Cam had his head under the bonnet and twisted to look at him.

Hugh raised his hand in recognition. “Just looking for Mackenna.”

Cam jabbed a finger in the air. “She went to the old house,” he said and stuck his head back under the bonnet before Hugh could say thanks.

What was going on here? The normally straight-up Mrs Birch was being over-the-top effusive and Cam, who was always joking, was barely civil. He wondered in what mood he'd find Mackenna.

There was no vehicle or sign of anyone when he pulled up at the old house. The sun was low in the sky and the light was almost yellow, reflecting off the old stonework and giving it a golden glow.

The front door opened and Mackenna stepped out.

“I hope you've brought champagne,” she called as she rushed towards him. He was barely out of the vehicle when she flung her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek. “I'm so glad it's you, Hugh. I can't think of anyone else I'd rather share this moment with. Come in and see.”

She danced ahead of him through the door. Hugh took a hesitant step forward. His heart was pounding and the burning tingle began to deepen in his wrists. He took slow deep breaths in through his nose, out through his mouth. Why was this happening? Mackenna was being her usual friendly self and yet twice now her enthusiastic welcome had triggered panic attacks. They hadn't bothered him in a long time.

She stuck her head back through the door. “Come on,” she beckoned.

Hugh forced himself to follow. His footsteps echoed on the polished wooden floor.

“In here.” Mackenna's call came from the room to his left.

In the doorway he paused. Across from him, along the opposite wall, was a corrugated-iron bar with a polished wood top. Mackenna stood behind it beaming at him. She flung out her arms.

“Welcome to the tasting room.”

Hugh looked around. The room was furnished with several small tables of varying designs and an eclectic mix of old wooden chairs. The freshly painted walls were unadorned except for a large canvas print hanging above the fireplace. It was a picture of a mob of Corriedales looking in prime condition. They were standing up to their knees in the lush green of Woolly Swamp pastures with a line of gum trees behind.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“I like it.”

“We couldn't run to new furniture so I've scoured our sheds and second-hand shops for the tables and chairs. They don't match but I think that adds character. Rory made the bar for me. Mates' rates. I owe him some meat.”

“What will happen in here?”

Mackenna came around the counter and pulled out a seat for him.

“It's like a cellar door for wine, only in this case people will taste Woolly Swamp lamb – everything from roast to sausages. It will be a serving platter with an assortment of local cheese and seasonal salad vegetables.”

“Sounds good.” Hugh wasn't sure how she would manage everything but he didn't want to dampen her enthusiasm.

“But there's more.” Mackenna grabbed his hand, pulled him to his feet and drew him across the passage.

The big room was empty except for a large patterned mat in front of the restored fireplace.

“This will be a bit longer coming but it will eventually be the dining room. I want to put a big long table in here with matching chairs.” She cast her arm up the centre of the room. “People can book in advance for a private dinner. We can include local wines and a four or five course meal featuring our meat.”

She turned back to him, took both his hands in hers and jigged them up and down. Hugh's heart thumped but not in panic this time.

“What do you think?” Mackenna's face was lit up in a smile and her eyes sparkled. “I know it hasn't been done around here with sheep before.” She didn't give him time to answer. “But the beef people have made a go of it locally and in New Zealand I went to a place where they had a tasting room for their Corriedale meat. It was just one part of the marketing they did.”

Hugh's head was spinning, partly from Mackenna's close proximity and partly from her explanation. She'd hardly drawn breath since he arrived.

“It sounds impressive.”

“You don't look convinced. Oh, Hugh.” She dropped his hands and her eyes, now serious, locked with his. “If I can't convince you what hope will I have with Mum?”

“You know me, Mackenna, slow and cautious. I have to take things in before I come to a decision.”

“You never used to be like that. You were the one always leading the charge.”

Tension sparked through Hugh's body. He hadn't expected that.

“I'm sorry.” Mackenna bit her lip in the way she'd always done when she was bothered about something. “That was out of my mouth before I changed gears. I didn't mean it the way it sounded. I'm really looking for support here. Dad's wavering, where once I'm sure he would have been right behind me, and I don't dare tell Mum about it for fear she'll put a stop to the whole venture. I don't know what's going on with those two. Dad was always a tower of strength and confident in his decisions about the property. Now he seems to defer to Mum on everything.”

“Events change people.”

Mackenna drooped. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and tell her it would all work out okay but he couldn't mislead her.

“Maybe having the heart attack has changed how your dad looks at life,” he said gently.

“I don't know how to cope with that.” Mackenna slumped against the wall. “I came back from overseas refreshed and ready to get stuck into work but it's almost as if. . . as if they don't want me here.”

That made Hugh smile. “Now come on. I'm sure that's not true. Your parents love you and you are your dad's right hand. Maybe you need to slow down and give them a bit more time to see the picture you're painting.”

“Maybe.” Mackenna straightened up with a sigh. “I really want to move in here and put this place to use, or Mum will be renting it out to someone else now that Cam's not so keen.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Mum had plans to use this as a workman's house. Cam was all set to move in once it was finished.”

“That would be tricky if you're running it as a farm gate outlet.”

“He's happy to stay at the house now.” A satisfied grin spread across Mackenna's face.

“What did you do?”

“Just mentioned the ancestors who keep this place cosy.”

“How would that deter him?”

“You should have seen his face.” Mackenna laughed. “Big tough Cam couldn't get out of here fast enough.”

“You're a wicked woman.”

“Ah, but you love me.” She grabbed his hand again. “Come and see the rest of the place. The kitchen has turned out really well.”

Hugh let her lead him along the passage. This time his hand completely relaxed in hers.

The last of the sun's rays were fading fast. Mackenna flicked on the light. While she waited for Hugh to finish washing up in the bathroom, she took the opportunity to once more survey her gleaming kitchen. It was ready to go and she was keen to start, but he was probably right. Her dad may be looking at things differently after his life-threatening experience. Perhaps she needed to rethink how she tackled him with her own ideas. Thank goodness for Hugh being here. He might not be the old carefree guy he once was but the same Hugh was still there underneath, she was sure of it. He'd been changed by circumstances as well.

She heard the bathroom door open and turned as he entered the kitchen.

He smiled at her. “You really have done a fantastic job with the house. Even that old bathroom looks new again.”