Page 75 of Where the Wattles Bloom

‘His will stated he was to be buried in this cemetery and, as much as she loathed him, Reggie respected that wish. But—’ Lachlan grinned. ‘It didn’t state where so …’

Rowena laughed. ‘Good for her.’

‘I also think that, for a long time, having him here reminded her that he was really dead. That she didn’t have to be afraid anymore. And that no matter what pain and suffering he’d brought her, she was still standing. Having him here reminds her that she’s a survivor.’

‘Yeah. I get that.’

They stared in silence at the grave for long moments before Lachlan stirred. ‘You ready to continue the tour?’

Rowena nodded. ‘Lead the way.’

Eighteen

Lachlan drove along the well-worn track that followed the western boundary fence. Rowena had been quiet since they’d returned to the vehicle fifteen minutes ago. He wasn’t sure if she was taking it all in, completely overwhelmed or just fending off tiredness.

‘You okay?’ he asked.

‘Bit icky,’ she admitted with a grimace, pulling a roll of Life Savers from her pocket and popping one in her mouth.

Her morning sickness had been so much better since she’d started drinking tea. But as she sucked furiously on the lolly, it was a reminder for Lachlan that, while it was manageable now, it wasn’t completely gone.

Still, despite her wretchedness and his associated feelings of helplessness, Lachlan secretly took her continuing battle with the morning—all day, in her case—sickness as a good thing. His trusty library book told him nausea and vomiting during the first trimester was a sign of climbing hCG, a hormone vital for a healthy pregnancy.

So that was surely a plus?

Giving the Life Saver some time to work its magic, Lachlan kept his eye on the fence that he and Albert and their neighbours in the cluster had strung with their own hands and the help of a mechanical digger.

‘What are you looking for?’ she asked eventually. ‘Holes?’

Glancing at Rowena’s profile, he nodded before returning his attention to the road. ‘Pretty much.’

‘Don’t you guys use drones for this kind of thing? I’m sure I saw something on telly about it a while back.’

‘Yep, we have a drone that can be used for checking fences and water troughs and dam levels. And for mustering, too. But this is a good way to show you the property and I like to be able to eyeball everything regularly. Drones often can’t pick up small issues.’

‘So, did you build this fence?’

‘Would you be impressed if I said yes?’

‘Yes.’ She glanced at him, clearly impressed. ‘This is a big-arse fence.’

Lachlan laughed. ‘Well, I can’t claim all the credit. It’s the western boundary of a cluster fence that’s a joint effort between Blairgowrie and our three surrounding neighbours.’

‘What’s a cluster fence?’

‘It’s where a group of adjacent properties form a cooperative to fence around all the properties in the cluster to form an exclusion zone. It’s to keep out the wild dogs. We were all losing a lot of stock to them. A lot. I lost six hundred. It was diabolical, really. That’s not only something that affects our bottom line—less sheep, less lambs—but is an exceptionally grisly way for a sheep to meet its end.’

She shuddered. ‘Oh no, the poor sheep.’

‘It was an expensive outlay, but subsidies were available and the rest is shared between the properties, and it’s made a dramatic difference. We’ve had no problems with dogs since.’

Satisfied that the section of fence he’d earmarked to inspect was intact, Lachlan went cross country, checking a nearby water asset. Thanks to sensor and app technology he could see with a tap of his finger on his phone the depth of the many poly tanks around the property, but it never hurt to check the readings were accurate and the condition of the cement troughs situated near every tank.

He checked several more as he headed for the billabong in the far eastern section of the property. Sometimes he stuck to tracks but, because Lachlan knew the property like the back of his hand, he often cut through the bush to get where he was going quicker.

Rowena didn’t seem to mind, pointing in delight at a stampede of emus running like the blazes in the distance. She also got out of the vehicle with him each time, asking him questions about bores and pumps and annual rainfall and the water table and how much a sheep drank in a day, amongst myriad other things.

Her interest was heartening in ways that Lachlan did not want to probe. Gabby had found anything to do with the farm monumentally boring, her eyes glazing over at any kind of farm speak. But it was easy to be interested, he supposed, if being here was only a temporary thing.