Page 32 of Road to Rosalee

‘Will do.’ She turned, offering a soft smile over her shoulder. ‘You too.’

Chapter

10

After almost two weeks at Rosalee Station – the cliché of time flying because she was having fun becoming more applicable as the days passed – Melody awoke with an emotional hangover. It was as if someone had taken her heart from her chest and wrung it out. The deep ache of losing her mother, the sudden rise of the roller-coaster ride of meeting her father, and the dip back to earth as she’d landed herself the job as camp cook had all come crashing down like a tidal wave. She had good reason to feel so emotionally exhausted, and knew it was a sign to stop ignoring her feelings, and deal with them; the good, the bad, the ugly, and the not-so-bad too. Running from the pain of her messy life would only work for so long.

She needed to take the time while she was in the outback to regroup, redesign and restore her life back to the way she wanted it to be. And that certainly didn’t include staying married just to save her share of the café. Antonio could try to bully her into remaining his wife as much as he wanted to – if she had to lose everything, so be it. Anything beyond that, though, she was still very unsure about: where she’d live, what she’d do for work. Hopefully, the right path would reveal itself.

Days had taken a familiar rhythm. Starting with waking before dawn to prepare the men’s breakfast and packed lunches, to attending the chook pen and veggie patch, the washing and upkeep of the house, and venturing around the place on the quad bike with old Harold as her chaperone – the lovable old cattle dog was growing on her – and ending with the fluorescent light being flicked off as she left the common kitchen and made her way back to the homestead accompanied by Zai each and every night. Much to Melody’s surprise, she felt like part of the furniture and, most fundamentally of all, part of the crew – even Hasselhoof had warmed to her, in his own kind of odd way. And the landscape that had at first terrified her with its unforgiving vastness – there was just something about the place that made her feel a part of it all, as though her heart was beating in tune with Mother Nature’s rhythmic pulse, something the hullaballoo of the city drowned out. That wasn’t to say she didn’t miss having everything at her fingertips, but there was also something to be said for making do, for being happy with the simple things, for valuing those who valued her.

The house phone had her dashing from the laundry, just in time to grab it. ‘Hello.’

‘Hey, Melody. Just me, checking in for the day.’ The sound of Beau’s delighted squeals and the yapping of Duchess momentarily halted her dad’s voice. ‘Are the blokes still behaving themselves?’

She treasured that her father had stuck to his promise and called her every day to see how she was going. ‘Hey, yes, they sure are …’ Dad. She thought it but wasn’t comfortable enough to say it out loud yet, and she wasn’t sure how Matt would receive it either. ‘They’ve all made an extra effort to help me feel super welcome, well, apart from Hasselhoof but I’m not taking that personally.’

‘Ha, yes, he’s a grumpy old bugger. I’m happy to know they’re behaving themselves, otherwise I’d have to come and sort them out.’ Matt chuckled. ‘But seriously, I knew they’d take care of you. They’re a good bunch of fellas.’

‘They are.’ She wandered into the kitchen to make herself a cuppa. ‘How’s Sarah going with her final exams?’

‘Really good, she’s almost finished, thankfully.’ He sighed. ‘She’s so exhausted, the poor thing. Sitting up all hours of the night to study is taking a toll. I have to keep reminding her she’s four months pregnant and she needs to rest up too.’

Melody so admired Sarah’s drive to follow her dream. ‘You must be so proud of her.’

‘I am, and I’m super proud of you too, making a go of it out there.’ The smile he would have been sporting shone through his buoyant tone.

‘Thanks, that means a lot.’

‘How the isolation going? Is it bothering you as much as it did at first?’

‘Not as much.’ Gazing out the window towards the horse paddock, she shrugged. ‘The place is certainly growing on me.’

‘See? I told you it would, love.’

‘Yes, indeed you did.’ The kettle whistled like billyo, and she plucked it from the gas stove and poured the hot water into her cup. ‘Have you worked out when you’re arriving?’

‘We have, finally. If all goes to plan, and there aren’t any hiccups with the motorhome along the way, we should be arriving there around the twenty-seventh.’

She quickly did the maths. ‘Oh, a little over three weeks away.’

‘Yeah, sorry it’s a bit later than expected, sweetheart. We were trying to have a couple of weeks out there before Slim’s big day, but looks like it’ll be just under a week. I hope you don’t mind us crashing the homestead once we get there.’

‘Of course I don’t.’ Her gaze fixed on a whirlwind, tossing red dust and leaves in a spiral across the back yard – they desperately needed rain. ‘It’ll be nice to have some company. The homestead is way too big for one person.’

‘I get what you’re saying. Homesteads are notoriously built to welcome many people within the walls. I suppose you can think of it as a safe haven of sorts from the elements and to give people a chance to catch their breath with loved ones before facing it all over again.’

‘Wow.’ Her hand went to her heart. ‘That’s a beautiful way to put it.’

‘Glad you think so.’ There was a short pause. ‘Righto, I’d better get a move on. I’ve got me some bulls to train. We’ll chat again tomorrow?’

‘Okay, will do. Have a good day.’

‘You too, sweetheart, and don’t go spoiling those blokes too much.’ His hearty chuckle ended the phone call.

Wandering back to the hallway, she placed the phone back into the holder. Then, as she stepped out of the homestead, the flyscreen door slapped closed behind her. It was just shy of nine, and the sun was already commanding the wide expanse of blue. Padding across the verandah to where she liked to lean against the railing, she scanned the endless vista while sipping her coffee. Her father had been right – it was another world out here. A world she felt blessed to be a part of.

Swatting a fly from her face, she groaned when it refused to bugger off, and instead held a welcome party for more of its buzzing friends. Recalling the hoard of moths and flying ants she’d witnessed kamikaze into the blue glow of the zapper last night, she glanced towards where it hung on the corner of the awning. They were damn persistent and bred tougher than city flies. Just like the men, she thought humorously.