Six Ways to Sunday Read online

  ‘How about we get away for the weekend?’

  Her irritation dissolved immediately. ‘Really?’

  ‘I want to look at some cattle in Armidale. I was planning on a quick day trip, but we could make it a weekend if you want.’

  A few weeks ago she’d have wept with bitter disappointment that he wasn’t talking about a trip to the city. Now, though, she didn’t care where he wanted to go, as long as she got away from here. ‘Sounds great.’

  ‘Righto then. We’ll leave Friday night.’

  A whole weekend away. Rilee couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face at the thought and found herself counting the sleeps until it was time to go.

  Sixteen

  Two days later Ellen dropped off a large pile of invitations, all addressed and stamped, ready to be posted out. ‘Be a dear and run these into town to the post office, will you? I’ve got far too much on my plate to go myself, and these need to be sent today.’

  Rilee forced a smile and made herself think of the king-sized bed and spa that awaited her in Armidale. ‘Of course.’ It wasn’t as though she had anything better to do. She watched Ellen head back to the main house and took a deep breath. She’d just post the damn things and remain calm. She automatically reached for the bottle of Nervine Calm and shook out a few tablets into her hand. It was all very well to tell herself to be calm, but it wouldn’t hurt to add a little herbal assistance. It could be worse, she told herself. She could be turning to alcohol.

  She flicked through the pile and glanced over the multitude of names she’d never heard of before, then frowned as she reached the end. Sitting at the bench, she went back to the beginning and looked again, her frown turning into a scowl as she slapped the pile of envelopes onto the countertop and headed out the door.

  Crossing the yard, she heard a door bang and then the sound of an engine revving before Jacob drove past the house in his big four-wheel drive. In his usual good mood, I see. Rilee braced herself as she knocked on the back door and waited until she heard the impatient ‘Come in’ that followed a long silence.

  She pushed the screen door open and went inside, noticing the kitchen was empty. ‘Ellen? It’s me,’ she called.

  Rilee looked up as she heard the crisp click-clack of high heels on the tiled hall that pre-empted Ellen’s arrival. Rilee caught a glimpse of the older woman’s face before she’d managed to hide it by busying herself as she crossed to the kitchen sink. It looked very much as though she’d been crying and it momentarily distracted Rilee from her anger. ‘Ellen? Is everything all right?’

  ‘Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?’ she asked without turning.

  ‘You seem a bit…upset.’

  ‘No, just busy,’ she said dismissively, before adding, ‘organising this party,’ pointedly.

  ‘Are you sure?’ It seemed too coincidental that Jacob’s angry departure coincided with an obviously upset Ellen.

  ‘Did you need something, Rilee?’ she asked.

  There was no mistaking the impatience in the woman’s tone, and some of Rilee’s previous compassion slipped as she remembered the reason she’d come over. ‘Yes, actually, there was something I wanted to talk to you about. It seems Shae and Mark’s invitation got lost, and I’m just checking to make sure you’ve allowed for them in your catering numbers.’ Fine, if Ellen wanted to play ‘let’s pretend no one saw you cry’ then she’d cut straight to the chase.

  ‘The invitation didn’t get lost. I was only inviting close friends and family.’

  ‘Then I’d like to include them. Shae is a friend of mine.’

  ‘I’m not sure that’s entirely appropriate. For starters, they wouldn’t feel comfortable, I’m sure.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Ellen, but I don’t understand what you’re saying.’

  ‘They work for us, Rilee. They are employees. This is a private function.’

  ‘So because they work for you they can’t also be friends?’

  ‘It keeps things a lot easier if there are clear divides.’

  ‘Divides,’ Rilee repeated dully.

  ‘What happens if Dan is forced to let Mark go one day? When you muddy the employee-employer line, things get messy.’

  ‘I’m sure if something like that were to happen, Mark and Dan would be mature enough to handle the situation.’

  ‘I’ve found in life that it’s always better to avoid unpleasantness in the first place. But, if you want to ignore my advice then by all means invite them along. It’s formal, by the way,’ she added coldly.

  Rilee bit her tongue and forced a polite smile.

  Rilee was packing an overnight bag when she heard a knock on the back screen door. ‘It’s just me,’ she heard Shae call out.

  ‘Come on in,’ Rilee called back, dropping the lacy negligée onto the bed and going to greet her friend. ‘Just the woman I wanted to see. I was going to head down to your place later.’

  ‘Whatever it was, I didn’t do it,’ Shae said, holding up her hands in mock protest.

  ‘Here, this is for you.’ Rilee crossed to the kitchen bench and handed Shae a gold-embossed envelope.

  ‘What is it?’

  ‘An invitation to the wedding party.’

  ‘Really?’ Shae stared at the envelope warily.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘It’s just a bit of a surprise, that’s all. We’re staff. We don’t usually get invited to things like this.’

  ‘Oh my God, not you too,’ Rilee sighed. ‘I swear if I have to hear one more time about hierarchy and pecking order, I’m going to lose it. You’re coming to the party.’

  ‘Rilee, I don’t even have anything to wear. It’s formal attire.’

  Rilee studied her friend across the table thoughtfully. ‘Come with me,’ she said, standing and heading up the hallway. In the spare room Rilee began moving boxes stacked in a tall pile until she found the one she was looking for. Opening the lid, she searched through the contents, then gave a triumphant smile as she located the garment she had in mind.

  ‘Try this on. I think it will fit.’

  Shae took the silky material in her hands and frowned as she examined the dress. ‘This says Versace.’

  Rilee shrugged. ‘It’s a cheap knock-off.’

  ‘I know a cheap knock-off when I see one, Rilee, and this is not cheap and it’s not a knock-off. It’s gorgeous.’

  ‘Just try it on already,’ Rilee said, turning back to another box to look for shoes.

  Shae stared at Rilee with her mouth gaping as she held out the shoe box. ‘Jimmy Choo…Oh my God, where did you get all this stuff?’ Shae asked, as she slipped on the heels with almost reverent care.

  Rilee eyed the dress, tugging at the hem to straighten the fabric. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘I think it’s amazing. But I’m not sure Mark and I coming is such a great idea.’

  ‘It’s supposed to be my party,’ Rilee reminded her. ‘I want you there.’

  ‘Are you sure it’s okay to borrow this? I’ve never worn a real Versace before. Come to think of it, I’ve never worn a fake one either,’ Shae said, looking at the dress in the mirror.

  ‘I’m positive. In fact, you can keep it. It really suits you.’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ Shae said, almost giving herself whiplash as she turned to face her friend.

  ‘Yes, you can. I’ll never wear it again.’

  ‘I’m pretty sure you’ll have more opportunities to wear it than I ever will.’

  ‘My Versace days were brief, and I’m fairly certain they’re over,’ Rilee said.

  ‘There must be an interesting story behind all this,’ Shae said, nodding at the boxes of clothing.

  Rilee shook her head. ‘They belonged to a very different chapter of my life. I’m not sure why I even bothered to keep them.’

  ‘Ah, hello? Because they’re like worth a small fortune! You’d have to be crazy to throw stuff like this away. It’s not every day a girl gets the chance to wear fancy designer brands, so I w
on’t knock back your offer.’

  Rilee remembered having only ever read about these fashion houses in magazines, their logos instantly recognisable to her in much the same way as car enthusiasts recognise a badge on the front of a car. And then suddenly what she’d only dreamed about was a reality. At first that life was just as perfect as she’d imagined it would be, wearing gorgeous clothes and going to lavish parties, but she’d been too blinded by the illusion to pay attention to the niggle of uncertainty that everything wasn’t as perfect as she thought. Eventually she saw it for what it was. Some of the most beautiful people were shallow imitations. Dressing in Versace and draping yourself in priceless diamonds didn’t make you beautiful on the inside where it counted. Sometimes she thought about the wide-eyed, innocent kid she’d been and felt sad. But that girl was long gone and in her place was this Rilee. She wasn’t perfect but she had managed to pick herself up and pull herself together and that had to count for something…didn’t it?

  Seventeen

  The view below them was spectacular. A tapestry of colour spread out across the ground with patchworks of browns, yellows and greens as far as the eye could see. Mountain ranges bordered the edges of the horizon, touching the blue sky and melting into an indistinguishable line, seemingly joining the earth and sky together as one.

  The property they were visiting was near a small town on the way to Armidale and they were flying there before heading to their accommodation in town. Realistically they could have driven but, as Dan so cheerfully put it, why waste time driving when they could fly?

  Rilee had flown with Dan a few times now and knew that he was an extremely capable and experienced pilot, but knowing that and remembering all that separated them from plummeting to their deaths was a very thin sheet of metal and a bunch of engine parts were two very different matters.

  The flight itself Rilee found rather enjoyable; it was just the landing and take-off that made her break out in a cold sweat. As they approached their destination—a narrow landing strip in the middle of a wide brown paddock—Rilee felt her stomach lurch and shut her eyes, gripping the seat with her hands. She let out a long slow breath once the wheels touched the ground in a smooth textbook perfect landing and summoned what she hoped was a reassuring smile at Dan when he reached over and placed his hand on her knee.

  The McPherson property was not nearly as imposing as Thumb Creek Station, but it was impressive nonetheless. There was no grand residence, no cluster of workers’ cottages, but they clearly had a very profitable stud if the quality of fencing and yards was anything to go by.

  Bill McPherson drove out in a large four-wheel drive to collect them, helping Dan put chunks of wood in front of the tyres of the plane and securing it before driving them to the homestead.

  Rilee liked the silver-haired man instantly. He had a quiet way about him, but his questions and conversation proved him to be shrewd and perceptive. His wife, Marcy, was welcoming when they reached the house and sat them down for a cuppa straight away.

  ‘I understand you were a city girl, Rilee?’ Marcy said as she handed over a cup of tea.

  Rilee looked up at the woman, unsure if there was going to be a patronising smile to accompany the question. She let out a small sigh of relief when she detected only curiosity instead. ‘I’m afraid I still am. I haven’t quite got the hang of country life yet.’

  ‘You’ll get there,’ she said with a small wave of her hand. ‘We all do eventually.’

  ‘Oh? You came from the city too?’ Rilee asked, gratefully sipping her tea.

  ‘A long time ago now, but yes. Born and raised on the North Shore.’

  ‘Wouldn’t know it now though,’ Bill chimed in, taking a bite of the homemade date loaf he held in his hand.

  Marcy smacked his arm lightly. ‘You be quiet. There were many a time I had my bags packed by the front door in the first few years. You’re lucky I stuck around.’

  ‘That I am. Luckiest man alive, I reckon,’ he said with a soft smile.

  She glanced across at Dan and wondered if he was comparing the McPhersons with his parents. She couldn’t read his expression, but she wondered if maybe her stoic husband ever wished his family was a little more affectionate.

  ‘Are you interested in the farming business, Rilee?’ Marcy asked.

  ‘I find it fascinating, but I think Dan and his family have the business side of things under control,’ Rilee said, her smile feeling a little forced. ‘I’ll just stick to my own profession, I think.’

  ‘Oh? Which is?’ Marcy asked, tilting her head slightly.

  ‘I’m a naturopath.’

  ‘Oh, how exciting. My sister swears by her practitioner.’

  Rilee felt an instant rush of relief at the woman’s words. She had come to expect either contempt or dismissal whenever she discussed her work.

  ‘She had terrible trouble with eczema and allergies for years, and now, not a sign of it,’ Marcy said, giving a small shrug of her shoulders. ‘So will you be able to continue practising? Or have you given it up for now?’

  ‘Oh no, I couldn’t give it up. I plan on opening a clinic in Pallaburra, very soon actually.’

  The men stood up, excusing themselves to go look over the cattle Dan was interested in, and Rilee enjoyed finally being able to discuss her work without feeling defensive.

  ‘It’s good that you have your own work to keep you busy,’ Marcy said as they enjoyed their second cup of tea. ‘It’s still important to take an interest in your husband’s business, though.’

  ‘Between Dan and his parents, there’s very little for me to actually do.’

  ‘I know all too well how it feels to come into another woman’s domain and try to fit in. Bill was a real mummy’s boy too,’ she chuckled and Rilee smiled a little at the thought. ‘It’s hard trying to find your place, especially when you haven’t had much experience with farming before. It’s certainly a different way of life.’

  ‘I really don’t have anything helpful to offer the business,’ she said, before adding carefully, ‘and I’m fairly sure the Kincaids wouldn’t appreciate me trying.’

  ‘You may not have any farming experience, but you can most certainly contribute to the family business in other ways. It’s important not to let them shut you out. It may not be intentional, but if you don’t establish some kind of interest early on then they’ll exclude you in the future. Trust me, I’ve been there.’

  Rilee thought perhaps Marcy was right. Although she didn’t want to step in and help run Thumb Creek right now, she should at least have an idea of how it worked. However, she knew exactly what their reaction would be if she tried. Ellen would dismiss her in that condescending, patronising way she so often used, and Jacob would probably just grunt and tell her to stick to being a wife.

  Part of her understood how parents might have concerns about a daughter-in-law joining the family business—after all, divorce was common nowadays and she could imagine them being afraid their business would be implicated in settlement proceedings. Nevertheless, Marcy’s words hit a nerve. The Kincaids never discussed anything that related to the financial running of the property when she was around. Dan would go to the main house and have meetings or sit in on visits from the bank or accountant, but she was never invited along.

  Bill and Dan returned a little while later all smiles and in good humour, which made Rilee wonder if maybe now was as good a time as any to show some interest in Dan’s business.

  ‘Thank you for the chat,’ Rilee said, giving Marcy a hug of farewell, ‘and I’ll post that mixture out to you as soon as I get home.’

  ‘That would be lovely, Rilee. Thank you, I can’t wait to try it. And remember what I said,’ she added in a lower voice.

  ‘They were lovely,’ Rilee said once they were back in the air.

  ‘Yeah. He’s a top bloke, Bill McPherson. Knows his cattle too.’

  ‘So you were happy with the cattle?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  ‘How many are you buying?
’

  ‘None.’

  ‘What? I thought we were coming out here to look at cattle to buy?’

  ‘We were coming out to look over the quality of his stock and check out his bull.’

  ‘I don’t understand. You came all this way just to look at his cattle?’

  ‘Yep, and make a decision about breeding.’

  ‘So you need to buy a bull?’

  ‘No, not the entire bull,’ he grinned across at her. ‘Just the semen.’

  ‘Oh.’ Gross.

  Dan looked back at her. ‘I want to cross my Black Angus with his Bazadais line.’

  ‘Why a Bazadais?’

  ‘They have better muscle and weight gain.’ When he saw that she seemed genuinely interested, he continued a little more eagerly. ‘Angus meat has the marbling effect that restaurants and the overseas market are looking for, but if you cross the Black Angus with the Bazadais you retain the marbling effect and increase the size and muscle of the animal, so you get more meat and less waste.’

  ‘And your father doesn’t understand this?’

  ‘It’s not a matter of him understanding it. Black Angus have been the standard breed on Thumb Creek for generations,’ he shrugged. ‘I’ve been trying to convince Dad to introduce the Bazadais for a while now, but he doesn’t get why you’d mess around with something that’s always been reliable.’

  ‘But you obviously think it’s worthwhile?’

  ‘Yeah, I do. I think we could improve the quality of meat, as well as the durability of the animal—make them a lot more drought tolerant, adaptable to different conditions, so we can survive climate fluctuations better.’

  ‘How can he not consider it?’

  ‘Because he’s Dad,’ Dan said gruffly. ‘Because he’s always bred Black Angus and he won’t consider anything else. He just doesn’t want to go through the process of implementing it. It’ll take years to build up the stock, and he doesn’t see the point of all that stuffin’ around, as he calls it.’