Blackpeak Station Read online

  Rob climbed up behind her and took the reins. She relaxed against his body.

  When she came round again, there was a fire and walls. She felt warm. It was nice. She drifted back to sleep.

  At last, pain woke Charlotte fully. She looked round. She was lying in her sleeping bag on the floor of the hut, in front of the fire. Rob’s arms were around her. Apparently he was in the sleeping bag, too. He raised himself up on one elbow and smiled down at her. ‘Hey, you. How are you doing?’

  She tried to move, and groaned. Okay. Now she could feel her legs. One of them more than the other.

  ‘No, see, you have to stay still. I think you might have broken your leg.’ He put a hand on her forehead. ‘And you’ve probably got concussion.’ He smiled. ‘There’s a great hoofprint just above your eye.’

  Was that all? A broken leg? Thank Christ. ‘What happened?’

  ‘You were bringing the cattle through the creek and a calf crashed into you. Archie went under, and he must have kicked you in the head while he was trying to get up …’

  ‘Archie!’ Charlotte struggled to sit up. ‘What happened to Archie? Is he okay?’

  Rob gently restrained her. ‘Archie’s fine, he’s right outside.’

  Charlotte relaxed. ‘So what happened then?’

  ‘Well, I see you go under, so I come charging in to get you.’ Rob laughed. ‘I’m diving around frantically, I come up for air, and standing there on the bank is Archie, with you dangling from one stirrup.’

  Charlotte laughed, and winced. ‘God, no wonder everything hurts so much.’

  ‘Yes, well, it wasn’t funny at the time, I can tell you.’ He stroked the hair away from her bruised forehead. ‘There aren’t many people who can say they owe their lives to their boots being too big for their stirrups.’

  Charlotte started to laugh again, but thought better of it. ‘Shit. What about the cattle?’

  ‘Back in the bush, I’m afraid.’ Rob smiled. ‘Want to go back and get them?’

  Charlotte smiled back up at him. ‘No thanks. This time, they can stay there.’

  The next morning, her head felt better. The rest of her body, not so much — she felt exactly as if she’d been dragged over a rocky creek bed. Cut, scraped and bruised.

  ‘Can you wiggle your toes?’ Rob asked, sitting at the end of her bunk.

  She tried. ‘Yep.’ Her breath hissed through her teeth. ‘Hurts, though.’

  ‘I don’t think we should try and ride down today.’

  Charlotte wasn’t about to argue. She sighed. Stupid, not to have carried two radios — hers was now somewhere downstream. ‘They’ll come up to look for us tomorrow,’ she said, knowing it was true. But God, they were going to be worried.

  Rob examined her face. ‘How are you feeling?’

  She grimaced. ‘Sore. But alive.’

  ‘Yeah.’ He stroked her cheekbone. ‘It makes a good start, doesn’t it?’

  Getting up, he took the billy off the fire. ‘So. Any near-death experiences to report? Life flash before your eyes?’

  Charlotte smiled ruefully. ‘The only thing I remember thinking was that you’d never get the mob down on your own.’

  Rob laughed. ‘And indeed, I failed miserably. See, you should never take an accountant to do a shepherd’s job.’

  ‘Well, you didn’t do too badly, I suppose.’ She winced as she took the mug of tea from his hand. ‘Seriously, though …’

  He raised his eyebrows at her.

  ‘Do you believe in all that — near-death experiences, life flashing before your eyes?’

  ‘I don’t know.’ Rob considered. ‘Maybe people have like a … a moment of clarity, when they realise what they care about most.’

  Charlotte grimaced. ‘So in my case, that would be thirteen head of cattle?’

  Rob laughed. ‘How about we say you were thinking of the station?’

  Well, that made more sense. She sipped her tea. Would Blackpeak be her last thought? She certainly hoped it would still be hers to worry about when — in a very great many years from now — she did draw her final breath.

  ‘There’s nothing more important to you than that, is there?’ Rob asked, his back to her as he stirred up the fire.

  Charlotte lay back and closed her eyes. ‘I don’t think there is,’ she said. ‘Not really.’

  She woke up hungry. ‘What’s for lunch?’

  Rob opened the larder and pulled a face. All the huts were well stocked with tins and dry goods in case of emergencies — they weren’t going to starve. But the supplies they’d packed in were mostly gone now, and thanks to the trampers and hunters who also made use of the huts, the emergency menu could be eccentric.

  ‘Moroccan lamb?’ he held up a packet. ‘Allegedly. I doubt it.’

  Throughout the afternoon, the rain continued to fall. Rob kept the fire stoked up and the billy on the boil, but Charlotte felt herself flagging. She shivered.

  ‘Come on, let’s move over here and get you warm.’ He carried her over to the fire, and settling himself at her back, folded her into his arms and pulled the other sleeping bag around them both. Charlotte went to sleep against his chest.

  Rob woke her for dinner. He’d made camp bread. They ate it with kosher baked beans and then had a tin of peaches for dessert. Charlotte found that chewing hurt, and Rob put her back to bed. A wind got up, driving the rain harder against the tin roof. The lamps stuttered — it was going to be a rough night. Rob brought in more wood and banked up the fire.

  Overnight, the wind blew the rain away, and the morning dawned flat, grey and clear. Knowing that a search party would be up to look for them at first light, Rob had Charlotte ready to go when they heard the helicopter’s rotor. It didn’t take long for the chopper to spot the smoke coming from the hut and put down on the flat outside.

  ‘Cheers for the lift, Carr,’ Charlotte said, as Rob and Rex helped her inside. The dogs jumped in as well.

  ‘Sure you’ll be okay on your own, mate?’ Carrick Fergusson yelled, above the noise of the blades.

  Rob nodded and gave the thumbs up. Charlotte looked down at him anxiously.

  ‘Archie and I’ll see you tonight!’ he shouted, and waved.

  She smiled. Carr eased the chopper up and they headed for home, flying low beneath the cloud.

  Six hours later, Rob made it back with the horses. Kath had kept lunch waiting.

  ‘Nothing broken,’ Charlotte beamed. ‘The medical centre said the leg’s just bruised — I have to stay off it for a couple of weeks and then it’ll be fine.’

  ‘Plus she’s got concussion,’ Jen reminded her reprovingly. ‘So she’s supposed to stay in bed for at least two days.’ She grinned at Charlotte. ‘Seems like she finally met with something thicker than her head.’

  Rob laughed. Coming over to Charlotte’s chair, he put his hand on her shoulder. ‘Okay?’

  She looked up and smiled into the familiar blue eyes. He looked exhausted. ‘Okay.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘How’s Archie?’

  ‘Bit sore, but he reckons he’ll be right in a couple of days.’

  ‘Yeah. I know the feeling.’

  After lunch, Rob went off for a much-needed shower, and Rex and Jen helped Charlotte to bed. The medical centre had given her crutches, but her shoulders and arms were too sore to use them.

  ‘He was so worried when you didn’t show up last night,’ said Jen softly, as Rex closed the door behind him. She traced the pattern on Charlotte’s duvet with her forefinger. ‘We all were.’

  ‘Yeah.’ Charlotte patted her knee. ‘I know. I’m sorry.’

  Kath poked her head round the door. ‘Would you like a hot chocolate?’

  Charlotte grinned. ‘Thanks, Kath.’ God, it was good to be home.

  ‘Please,’ begged Charlotte, over breakfast four days later, ‘there must be something useful I can do.’

  Jen shook her head slowly. ‘Which part of stay off that leg did you not understand?’

  Raising herself up on the
arms of her chair, Charlotte peered out above the mist on the kitchen window. After the wind and hail that had battered the homestead all night, the sky lightening over the hills was clear, a few reddening streamers of cloud high above the snow-covered peaks the only signs of the storm.

  ‘My leg’s fine. I can’t take another day in the office. I need some fresh air.’ God, she sounded whiny even to her. Charlotte smiled at herself. ‘I feel like I’ve been living under a rock.’

  Jen smiled. ‘Well, a little drive wouldn’t kill you, I suppose. Okay, you can come and shift the bulls with me if you like — so long as you promise to stay in the cab.’

  Charlotte crossed her heart. ‘I swear.’

  As they headed out in the ute, Charlotte gritted her teeth. Every bump in the track jarred her leg. But it was worth it to be out on a morning like this. The sun was just climbing over the Rosalie Range, and a brisk, cold breeze was blowing. There’d been quite a dump of snow on the tops — there was barely a rock to be seen up there now, and up ahead, the scrub in Fred’s Gully was thickly dusted with white. In the paddocks around the homestead, small drifts of hail mounted the windward side of every tussock.

  ‘You okay?’ Jen shot her a sidelong look.

  ‘Yeah, great,’ she managed.

  ‘What if you put your leg up on the seat?’

  Dubiously, she tried — it did help a bit.

  As they neared the top of the block, Charlotte and Jen swore simultaneously. The fence was down. They looked at each other.

  ‘What the hell’s done that?’

  Jen, looking equally baffled, shrugged — and then, her attention caught by something over Charlotte’s shoulder, started to laugh. ‘Um, some old mates of yours, I’d say.’

  Swivelling with some difficulty, Charlotte followed her gaze. Sure enough, in the far corner of the bull paddock, close to their new protectors, a familiar-looking thirteen head of cattle were ripping hungrily at the grass.

  Smiling, she shook her head. ‘I don’t know why we bother mustering at all. We might as well let them all come down of their own accord.’

  ‘You might,’ grinned Jen. ‘You’re obviously not very good at it anyway.’

  Charlotte laughed. ‘Come on, I’ll give you a hand with the fence.’

  ‘Oh, no you don’t.’

  ‘What? I can help.’

  ‘Sure you can. You can pass me those wire-cutters there.’

  Charlotte handed them over.

  ‘Great. Now stay here and do as you’re told.’

  Chapter SIX

  July brought the snow down from the tops to sweep around the homestead, wrapping everything in a blanket of white. Charlotte pulled into the silage pit for another load of feed. Down here on the flat, it was a good kind of snow — not too deep, and with this bright sun in the sky, not destined to last the day. As she headed back out, she couldn’t help thinking that even with all the extra work it meant, it was very pretty.

  ‘Charlie, I need to talk to you about something,’ Jen said, when they met over morning tea back at the homestead.

  Charlotte waited.

  ‘I got an email yesterday. From an old …’ Jen searched for the word. ‘An old friend of mine. From up north.’ Her forehead furrowed.

  ‘That’s nice,’ said Charlotte helpfully.

  ‘She wants to see me.’

  ‘Oh.’ Charlotte waited for more, but Jen was silent. ‘So … you want to ask her down here?’

  ‘She wants me to meet her in Christchurch. Talk a few things over.’

  Charlotte smiled. ‘So what you’re trying to say is, you’d like some time off?’

  ‘Yes,’ agreed Jen, sounding none too sure about it.

  ‘No worries, take as long as you like. Rex and Matt and I can handle feeding out. When do you want to go?’

  ‘The end of the week.’

  ‘Okay.’ There was silence. ‘Was there something else you wanted to talk about?’ asked Charlotte, mystified.

  Jen stared at the table. ‘No … No, that was it.’

  Charlotte shrugged, knowing it was no use asking anything more. Jen hadn’t been herself for a while now. In the weeks after the accident, the two of them had hardly been out of each other’s sight. Every day until she could drive herself again, Charlotte had ridden shotgun beside Jen, in the ute or the tractor cab, shifting stock, feeding out, running the never-ending round of repairs to fences and sheds and gear. Talking, laughing, teasing each other without mercy. Then suddenly — almost overnight, so it seemed — everything had changed. It was as if Jen had slammed the door in her face. She had no idea why.

  She’d tried talking to Jen, but that hadn’t helped. You can’t force it, she told herself. Their old closeness would come back of its own accord, or not at all. Some days it almost seemed like it had. But then, after a day or two more, things were weird again — it was very confusing. Charlotte shook her head. Maybe a bit of a break from the station was just what Jen needed — she forgot, sometimes, that this wasn’t Jen’s home.

  ‘Is Rob coming down tonight?’ Jen asked.

  ‘No.’ She and Rob managed to get together once or twice most weeks. She hated the fact that it couldn’t be more often. But they both had to put in pretty long hours, and with a two-hour drive between his office and hers, it was hard to accomplish. It had occurred to Charlotte that the amount of time she did manage to spend with Rob might have something to do with Jen’s change of attitude. It seemed out of character, though, for someone as sensible as Jen to be jealous of a boyfriend.

  She smiled at Jen. ‘It’ll just be us. Girls’ night in. We can have a good catch-up.’

  Jen smiled back. ‘Just like old times, eh?’

  But it was a funny sort of smile, Charlotte thought.

  Charlotte had spent a back-breaking morning digging eight wethers out from a blind gully where they’d been trapped by a drift of snow. Her only plans for the afternoon were a hot bath, which she was now soaking in, and a good book, which was waiting in her room. So she was less than pleased when Jen banged on the bathroom door.

  ‘Phone for you — it’s Rob.’

  Charlotte heaved herself out reluctantly, shivering in the cold. She must get the bathroom heater fixed, she thought, making a grab for her dressing gown.

  ‘Hi,’ she said, somewhat grumpily, when she finally got to the phone.

  ‘Hi. Sorry, were you busy?’

  ‘I was in the bath.’

  ‘Sorry.’

  Charlotte sighed. ‘Never mind.’

  ‘Listen — are you busy next week?’

  ‘No, not really.’ She struggled to think. ‘Why?’

  ‘I thought we could go to Queenstown.’

  ‘For a whole week?’

  Rob laughed. ‘Yes, a whole week off. Come on, it’ll be fun. You ski, don’t you?’

  ‘Well, I’ve been a couple of times …’

  ‘You’ll love it!’ He sounded so excited she really didn’t have the heart to say no.

  ‘I’ll have to talk it over with Rex. Jen’s already off that week — I’m not sure I can get away too.’

  ‘See what you can do,’ Rob pleaded, ‘and get back to me. I’ll be on my cell phone.’

  Charlotte put down the phone.

  ‘What was that all about?’ asked Rex, looking up from his newspaper.

  ‘Rob wants me to go skiing with him next week. But I don’t think I can, really — not with Jen away too …’

  ‘Course you can. Matt and I can manage without you for a week.’ He winked at his wife. ‘Worst comes to worst, Kath can handle a shovel.’

  Charlotte grinned at the mental image. ‘I don’t want to leave you guys in the lurch.’

  Rex shook his head at her. ‘Look around you — we’re not exactly run off our feet. Go on, you ring the poor boy back and tell him you’ll go.’

  Charlotte looked at Kath.

  ‘Too right,’ Kath said. ‘Do you the world of good. It’s about time you took a holiday.’

 
‘Matt?’

  ‘Yeah, get off with you — we’ll be right.’ He grinned wickedly. ‘Extended dirty weekend, eh? Wish I had half your luck.’

  ‘Well, you know, you could take the week off instead …’

  ‘Go!’ The kitchen spoke in unison.

  Charlotte laughed. ‘Okay, okay — I’ll ring him back, then.’

  Rob picked Charlotte up early on Saturday morning. Jen was busy stowing her gear in the back of her ute. She’d been vague and snappy since she got up, and the atmosphere around the breakfast table had been strained.

  ‘Right,’ said Charlotte brightly. ‘See you in a week! Have a great time in Christchurch.’

  ‘Bye, Charlie. Take care of yourself.’

  It sounded very final. ‘You are coming back,’ Charlotte heard herself ask, ‘aren’t you?’

  ‘Course I am.’ Jen smiled suddenly. ‘Hey, you guys have a wonderful time.’ She walked over and touched Charlotte’s shoulder awkwardly. ‘And don’t you break anything, okay?’

  ‘Everything all right?’ asked Rob, as Charlotte climbed into the old Land Cruiser.

  ‘Fine.’ Charlotte sighed. ‘Let’s go.’

  They made the drive down to Queenstown in the easy silence of familiarity, the retrofit CD player belting out Don McGlashan songs over the rattling of the cab, and Rob’s hand on Charlotte’s knee. The road wound down out of the hills and through the gorge and at last the lake spread out in front of them, a silky blue grey beneath the snow-covered mountains.

  As they dropped down the steep hill into the centre of town, Rob pulled into an expensive-looking apartment complex, its wide plate-glass-windows framed by cedar and stone. Charlotte stared. ‘So this is where my hundred-and-forty bucks an hour goes, eh?’

  ‘Can’t think of a better way to spend it.’

  ‘It’s people like you who’ll be the death of us poor sheep farmers, you know.’

  ‘Poor baby. Heaven forbid you should have to hock an antique. How much was Andrea’s townhouse again?’

  ‘Ah, but I’m told it’s tax deductible.’