Australian Affairs: Wed. Barbara Hannay

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 guess that’s good news.’

      ‘Well, yes, it is. We certainly need the rain.’ She frowned. ‘But I have a paddock full of cattle down by the river.’

      ‘The Hopkins paddock,’ Joe said, remembering the section of their land that had flooded nearly every wet season.

      Ellie nodded.

      ‘We need to get them out of there,’ he said.

      ‘I know.’ Her soft pink mouth twisted into an apologetic wincing smile. ‘Joe, I hate to do this to you when you’ve just arrived, but you know how quickly these rivers can rise. I’d like to shift the cattle this afternoon. Now, actually.’

      ‘OK. Let’s get going, then.’

      ‘You don’t mind?’

      ‘’Course I don’t.’ In truth, he was relieved to have something practical to do. A mission to rescue cattle was a darn sight more appealing than sitting around drinking tea and trying to make polite conversation with his beautiful soon-to-be ex.

      ‘It’s flat country, so we won’t need horses. I’ll have to take Jacko, though, so I thought I’d take the ute with the trail bike in the back.’

      Joe nodded.

      ‘One problem. I’d probably have to stay in the ute with Jacko.’ Ellie swallowed, as if she was nervous. ‘Would you mind...um...looking after the round-up?’

      ‘Sure. Sounds like a plan.’ He chanced a quick smile. ‘As long as I haven’t lost my touch.’

      As he said this, Ellie stared at him for longer than necessary, her expression slightly puzzled and questioning. She opened her mouth as if she was going to say something in response, but then she shook her head as if she’d changed her mind.

      ‘I’ll get Jacko. He’s having an afternoon nap.’ She shrugged out of her coat and beneath it she was wearing a neat blue and white striped shirt tucked into jeans. Her waistline was still as trim as a schoolgirl’s.

      When she took off her hat, Joe’s gaze fixed on her thick dark hair, pulled back into a glossy braid. Her hair had always been soft to touch despite its thickness.

      ‘Come on in,’ she said awkwardly over her shoulder. ‘You don’t mind if we leave your gear in your car until later?’

      He shrugged. ‘It’s only Christmas presents.’

      ‘Would you...ah...like a cup of tea or anything?’

      ‘No, I’m fine.’ The muddy coffee he’d had on the road would take a while to digest. ‘Let’s collect the kid and get this job done.’

      They took off their boots and hung their wet coats on the row of pegs that Joe had mounted beside the front door when they’d first moved in here. To his surprise, his own battered elderly Akubra still hung on the end peg.

      Of course, he’d known it would feel strange to follow Ellie into the house as her guest rather than her partner, but the knife thrust in his gut was an unpleasant addition.

      The house was full of the furniture they’d chosen together in Townsville—the tan leather sofa and the oval dining table, the rocking chair Ellie had insisted on buying when she was first pregnant.

      Joe wouldn’t take a stick of this furniture when they divorced. He was striking new trails.

      ‘I’ll fetch Jacko,’ Ellie said nervously. ‘I reckon he’ll be awake by now.’

      Unsure if he was expected to follow her, Joe remained standing, almost to attention, in the centre of the lounge room. He heard the creak of a floorboard down the hall and the soft warmth in Ellie’s voice as she greeted their son. Then he heard the boy’s happy crow of delight.

      ‘Mummy, Mummy!’

      Joe felt his heart twist.

      Moments later, Ellie appeared in the doorway with Jacko in her arms. The boy was a sturdy little fellow, with glowing blue eyes and cheeks still pink and flushed with sleep. He was cuteness personified. Very blond—Joe had been blond until he was six and then his hair had turned dark.

      The last time Joe had seen his son, he’d been a sleepy baby, barely able to hold his head up. Now he was a little man.

      And he and Ellie were a winsome pair. Joe couldn’t help noticing how happy Ellie looked now, with an extra aura of softness and womanly warmth about her that made her lovelier