The Mighty Quinns: Callum

Maybe that’s what he needed to do. Go find a place like that, pay his money and have done with it. He’d ask for a pretty girl, one with long hair and a nice body. And he wouldn’t need to be embarrassed by his lack of experience. He’d be paying for a tutor.

Something would have to change. Cal had always dreamed about running Kerry Creek someday. But if he never left the station, there wasn’t much chance of meeting females. Maybe he ought to do like Teague and make plans to attend university for a few years. He could study business, learn things that would make him a better station manager and at the same time, find a wife.

But the idea didn’t appeal to him at all. He felt comfortable where he was. He’d learned how to run the station from watching his father. And he loved the work, loved the animals and the people who populated Kerry Creek. There was nothing more beautiful to him than a sunrise over the outback and nothing more peaceful than the sounds of life all around him at day’s end.

Cal lay back on the rock and stared up at the sky, linking his hands behind his head. Though he wanted to believe the opposite sex might find him interesting, Cal knew life on an outback cattle station wasn’t all sunshine and roses. His mother had left Kerry Creek just six months ago, unable to stand the isolation any longer.

Still, there had to be girls who liked riding horses and mustering cattle and fixing fences. Girls like Hayley Fraser. It might take a while to find someone like that, but when he did, maybe he could convince her to visit him on Kerry Creek. If she liked it, he would ask her to stay.

“I’ve seen lots of knockers, too,” Brody said.

“Yeah, right,” Teague said. “In your dreams, maybe.”

“No, I’m not lying,” Brody said. “Me and my mates go down to Bondi Beach on the weekends and there are girls sunbaking without their tops all over the place. You just walk down the beach and look all you want. You don’t even have to pay.”

Cal cursed softly, then sat up. “Is that all you droobs can talk about? Girls? Who needs them? They’re all just a big pain in the arse anyway. If you two want to sit around sipping tea and knitting socks with the ladies for the rest of your life, then keep it up. I’ve got better things to do with my time.”

He slid off the rock, dropping to the ground with a soft thud. Cal grabbed his gloves from his back pocket and put them on, then swung up into the saddle, shoving his hat down on his head. “Well, are you two coming? Or do you need help getting down?”

Teague and Brody glanced at each other, then slid to the ground, their boots causing a small cloud of dust to rise. “Come on, I’ll race you back,” Cal challenged.

“I’m in,” Teague said, hopping on his horse and weaving the reins through his fingers.

“Not fair,” Brody complained. “I haven’t ridden in four months.”

“Then you better hang on,” Cal said. He gave his horse a sharp kick and the gelding bolted forward. The sudden start surprised his brothers. They were just getting settled in the saddle while he was already fifty meters in front.

This was what he loved, the feeling of freedom he had, the wind whistling by his ears, the horse’s hooves pounding on the hard earth. He was part of this land and it was part of him. And if staying on Kerry Creek meant giving up on women altogether, then he’d made the choice already. This was home and he’d spend his life here.

1

May 31, 2009

THE SUN WAS BARELY ABOVE the horizon as Cal got dressed. He raked his hands through his damp hair, the thick strands still dripping with water. He usually showered at the end of a long workday rather than first thing in the morning, but he’d come in so late last night that he’d flopped onto the bed and fallen asleep with his dusty clothes on.

Strange how a year had flown by so quickly. It seemed like just last month that they’d finished the mustering and now they were about to start all over again. He should have been accustomed to the rhythms of the station by now, but the older he got, the more Cal was reminded that time was slipping through his fingers.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled his boots on, then rolled up the sleeves of his work shirt. As he reached for his watch on the nightstand, Cal noticed the letter he’d received from the matchmaking service sitting out. He grabbed it and shoved it into the drawer. Better not to let anyone know what he was contemplating, especially Mary, the station housekeeper. He’d be facing the Aussie inquisition over the dinner table if she found out.

He’d discovered the Web site a few months back—OutbackMates—an organization devoted to finding spouses for country men and women. He’d filled out the application last week and sent it in with an old photograph of himself. According to the letter, his profile would appear on the site next week. It was a bold move, but he was nearing thirty and he hadn’t had a long-term relationship with a woman for…ever.

The station kept him so busy that he rarely took more than a day or two away. Cal knew all the single women in Bilbarra and not one of them would make a suitable wife. The past few years he’d been forced to go as far as Brisbane for feminine companionship. Unfortunately, the single women he’d met there weren’t interested in romance with a rancher who lived five hours away, either—except when he happened to be in town. Then he was good for a quick romp between the sheets.

He stood and stared at himself in the mirror on his closet door. Reaching up, Cal smoothed his hands over his tousled hair. He wasn’t a bad-looking bloke. Though he didn’t possess the charm and sophistication his two younger brothers did, he could show a girl a good time. And he could be romantic if required. That had to count for something, right?

As he jogged down the stairs, Cal turned his thoughts to the workday ahead. The month of June would be spent preparing for mustering, herding the cattle back into the station yards for inoculations, branding, tagging and sorting. From the first of July through the end of that month, every jackaroo on Kerry Creek Station would exist on caffeine, fifteen-minute meals and barely enough sleep to get them through a day’s work.

The six station hands were already gathered around the table, devouring heaping platters of scrambled eggs, bacon, baked beans and toast. Mary hovered nearby, filling requests for coffee, juice and tea in her calm, efficient manner.

As he entered the room, the stockmen shouted their greetings. Cal took his place at the head of the table, observing the scene before him. Was it any wonder a woman would find station life unappealing? Table manners were all but nonexistent. Not a one of the stockmen had bothered to comb their hair that morning and he’d wager that most hadn’t shaved in the past three days. What was the point when they all looked the same?

“I don’t see why Miss Moynihan can’t take her meals with us,” Davey said, glancing around at his fellow jackaroos. “We can act polite.” He snatched his serviette from his collar and laid it on his lap. “See?”

Cal reached for a piece of toast, then slathered it with strawberry jam. “Who is Miss Moynihan?”

“We have a guest,” Mary said, setting a mug of coffee in front of him. She smoothed a strand of gray hair back into the tidy knot at the nape of her neck.

“We do?”

“Since you weren’t here, I took it upon myself to offer her a place to stay. She’s a genealogist come all the way from Dublin, Ireland, to do research on the Quinn family. She’s been driving back and forth between here and Bilbarra for the past two days, waiting for you to get back.”

“You invited a genealogist to stay at Kerry Creek?” Cal frowned. “What does she expect to find here?”

“She’d like to talk to you about Crevan Quinn, in particular. She’s documented the Quinn line going all the way back to the ancient kings of Ireland. You ought to take a look at her work. It’s all very interesting.”

“Where did you put her?” Cal asked.

“She stayed in the south bunkhouse last night. She’ll be driving back to Bilbarra to fetch her things this morning, if you approve. I don’t think her research will take long.”

“I’m not going to have time for her,” Cal said, grabbing the platter of eggs and scooping a spoonful onto his plate. He sent Mary a shrewd look. “If you ask my opinion, I think you’re happy to have another woman on Kerry Creek who will sip tea and eat biscuits with you all afternoon.”

Mary gave his head a playful slap. “I’m the only one on Kerry Creek who has managed to maintain a bit of civility. Look at the lot of you, gobbling down your food like hogs at a trough. I’d wager you’d all act differently if we had a lady at the table.”

“Oh, so you invited her to stay so we’d improve our manners?” Cal picked up his serviette and placed it daintily in his lap, holding out his little fingers as he did so. “Hear that, boys? Our Mary thinks we’re all a bunch of uncouth cane toads.”

“Can I tell her you’ll meet with her after dinner tonight?”

“Let Brody or Teague take this one,” Cal said wearily. “I’ve got far too much on my list.”

“Brody took off for Bilbarra on Friday and hasn’t been seen since and Teague has responsibilities with Doc Daley. He spent last night at Dunbar Station and isn’t supposed to be back until later this morning.”

The phone on the wall rang and Mary wiped her hands on her apron before picking it up. When she finished with the call, she sighed and shook her head.

“What is it?” Cal asked.

“That was Angus Embley. Your brother raised quite the stink in town last night. It appears Brody’s lost his keys down the dunny at the Spotted Dog. Angus asked if someone could bring him a spare set and bail him out of jail.”

“I’m not going,” Cal said. “This is the third time in as many months.”

“You will go,” Mary said, her voice firm. Though she wasn’t related to the Quinns, she had served as a surrogate mother ever since their own mother had left the station twelve years before. Cal recognized the tone of voice and knew not to argue.

Since Brody had arrived on Kerry Creek a few months ago, he’d been nothing but trouble. A motorcycle accident had ended his career as a pro footballer and Brody had found himself at loose ends, unable to deal with the loss of everything he’d worked for. Though he wasn’t a pauper, the money he’d made wouldn’t last forever. Sooner or later, Brody would have to make a decision about a new career. But for now, he’d been living off his notoriety and the patience and generosity of his oldest brother. But this had gone far enough.

“Teague probably has to fly into Bilbarra today. He can just—”

“You’ll not leave your brother sitting in the nick,” Mary scolded. “Besides, it will do you good to get off this station for a few hours. You can pick up supplies and the mail, and maybe even get yourself a decent haircut.”

“All right, all right,” Cal said. He pushed away from the table and stood, then snatched another piece of toast from a passing platter. “If I leave now, I’ll be back before lunch.”