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
‘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
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