that the kid crying?’
His name’s Jacko, Ellie wanted to remind Joe. Why did he have to call him ‘the kid’?
Holding the receiver to one ear, she filled a cup with juice and handed it to Jacko, hoping it would calm him. ‘He’s waiting for his breakfast.’
Jacko accepted the juice somewhat disconsolately, and at last the room was blessedly silent.
‘So how about Friday?’ Joe asked again.
At the thought of seeing him in less than forty-eight hours, Ellie took a deep, very necessary breath. ‘Friday will be fine.’
It would have to be fine. They had to do this. They had to get it over and behind them. Only then could they both finally move on.
* * *
Joe was an hour away from Karinya when he noticed the gathering clouds. The journey had taken him west from Townsville to Charters Towers and then north through Queensland’s more remote cattle country. It was an unhappily nostalgic drive, over familiar long, straight roads and sweeping open country, broken by occasional rocky ridges or the sandy dip of a dry creek bed.
The red earth and pale, drought-bleached grass were dotted with cattle and clumps of acacia and ironbark trees. It was a landscape Joe knew as well as his own reflection, but he’d rarely allowed himself to think about it since he’d left Queensland five and a half years ago.
Now, he worked hard to block out the memories of his life here with Ellie. And yet every signpost and landmark seemed to trigger an unstoppable flow.
He was reliving the day he and Ellie had first travelled up here, driving up from Ridgelands in his old battered ute. No one else in either of their families had ventured this far north, and the journey had felt like an adventure, as if they were pioneers pushing into new frontiers.
He remembered their first sight of Karinya—coming over a rise and seeing the simple iron-roofed homestead set in the middle of grassy plains. On the day they’d signed up for the long-term lease they’d been buzzing with excitement.
On the day their furniture arrived, Ellie had raced around like an enthusiastic kid. She’d wanted to help shift the furniture, but of course Joe wouldn’t let her. She was pregnant, after all. So she’d unpacked boxes and filled cupboards. She’d made up their bed and she’d scrubbed the bathroom and the kitchen, even though they’d been perfectly clean.
She’d baked a roast dinner, which was a bit burnt, but they’d laughed about it and picked off the black bits. And Ellie had been incredibly happy, as if their simple house in the middle of hundreds of empty acres represented a long and cherished dream that had finally come true.
When they made love on that first night it was as if being in their new bed, in their new home, had brought them a new level of connection and closeness they hadn’t dreamed was possible.
Afterwards they’d lain close and together they’d watched the stars outside through the as yet uncurtained bedroom window.
Joe had seen a shooting star. ‘Look!’ he’d said, sitting up quickly. ‘Did you see it?’
‘Yes!’ Ellie’s eyes were shining.
‘We should make a wish,’ he said and, almost without thinking, he wished that they could always be as happy as they were on this night.
Ellie, however, was frowning. ‘Have you made your wish?’ she asked.
‘Yes.’ He smiled at her. ‘What about you?’
‘No, I haven’t. I...I don’t know if I want to.’ She sounded perplexingly frightened. ‘I...I don’t really like making wishes. It’s too much like tempting fate.’
Surprised, Joe laughed at her fears. He ran a gentle hand down her arm and lightly touched her stomach, where their tiny baby lay.
‘Do you think I should make a wish?’ Ellie’s expression was serious now.
‘Sure.’ Joe was on top of the world that night. ‘What harm can it do?’
She smiled and nestled into his embrace. ‘OK. I wish for a boy. A cute little version of you.’
Three weeks later, Ellie had a miscarriage.
Remembering, Joe let out an involuntary sigh. Enough.
Don’t go there.
He forced his attention back to the country stretching away to the horizon on either side of the road. Having grown up on a cattle property, he was able to assess the condition of the cattle he passed and the scant remaining fodder. There was no question that the country needed rain.
Everywhere, he saw signs of drought and stress. Although Ellie would have employed contract fencers and ringers for mustering, she must have worked like a demon to keep up with the demands of the prolonged drought.
He found himself questioning, as he had many times, why she’d been so stubbornly determined to stay out here. Alone.
He stopped for bad coffee and a greasy hamburger in a tiny isolated Outback servo, and it was only when he came outside again that he saw the dark clouds gathering on the northern horizon. Too often in December, clouds like these merely taunted graziers without bringing rain, but, as he drove on, drawing closer to Karinya, the clouds closed in.
Within thirty minutes the clouds covered the entire spread of the sky, hovering low to the earth like a cotton wool dressing pressed down over a wound.
As Joe turned off the main road and rattled over the cattle grid onto the track that led to the homestead, the first heavy drops began to fall, splattering the hire vehicle’s dusty windscreen. By the time he reached the house the rain was pelting down.
To his faint surprise, Ellie was on the front veranda, waiting for him. She was wearing an Akubra hat and a Drizabone coat over jeans but, despite the masculine gear, she looked as slim and girlish as ever.
She had another coat over her arm and she hurried down the front steps, holding it out to him. Peering through the heavy curtain of rain, Joe saw unmistakable worry in her dark brown eyes.
‘Here,’ she yelled, raising her voice above the thundering noise on the homestead’s iron roof, and as soon as he opened the driver’s door, she shoved the coat through the chink.
A moment later, he was out of the vehicle, with the coat over his head, and the two of them were dashing through the rain and up the steps.
‘This is incredible, isn’t it?’ Ellie gasped as they reached the veranda. ‘Such lousy timing.’ She turned to Joe. Beneath the dripping brim of her hat, her dark eyes were wide with concern.
He wondered if he was the cause.
‘Have you heard the weather report?’ she asked.
He shook his head. ‘Not a word. I haven’t had the radio on. Why? What’s happening?’
‘A cyclone. Cyclone Peta. It started up in the Gulf yesterday afternoon, and crossed the coast mid-morning. It’s dumping masses of rain further north.’
‘I
