Page 62 of Best Laid Plans

It was still raining heavily half an hour later when she set out for Tambaroora. She was nervous, but she had to see Will now before she chickened out again.

It wasn’t yet six, but the sky was already dark and her windscreen wipers had to work overtime. The winding, unsealed country roads had quickly turned to slippery mud, and every so often there was oncoming traffic, so despite Lucy’s impatience, she had to drive very slowly and carefully.

She could see wet sheep clustered beneath the inadequate shelter of gum trees. Thunder rolled all around the valley and white flashes of sheet lightning lit up the entire sky. She was relieved when she finally saw the lights of Tambaroora homestead.

As soon as she pulled up at the bottom of the front steps she made a dash for the veranda.

Will’s mother, wearing an apron, greeted Lucy warmly and she could smell the tempting aroma of dinner cooking. ‘Lucy, you were brave to come out in this terrible storm.’

‘I know it’s not a good time to be calling, but I was hoping to see Will.’

Jessie Carruthers smiled. ‘He’s told us the news.’

‘Are you pleased?’ Lucy asked.

‘Very,’ Jessie said. ‘Especially after Will told us that you were so happy about it.’

Lucy held her breath, wondering if Jessie would make a reference to her previous pregnancy with Josh, her elder son. But she said simply, ‘Will and his father have spent the whole afternoon out in the shed, working on the tractor.’ She smiled. ‘You know what boys are like with their toys.’

‘You must be pleased that Will’s taking an interest.’

‘Well, yes, I am, actually, and he’s still at it. Robert came back a few minutes ago. He’s in the shower, but Will’s still out there, tinkering away.’

‘I’ll drive over and see if I can find him.’

‘All right, love.’ Jessie gave a wistful sigh. ‘I suppose you’re as disappointed as I am that Will’s going away again so soon.’

‘Well… I’m not surprised.’

‘You might be able to talk him out of it, Lucy.’

Somewhat stunned, Lucy stared at Will’s mother. ‘I could try, I guess. But I’m afraid it might be like trying to persuade a leopard to change his spots.’

Jessie frowned. ‘I don’t understand young people these days.’

‘I’m not sure we understand ourselves.’

Jessie accepted this with a resigned shrug. ‘Anyway, it’s lovely to see you, dear. And you must join us for dinner.’

Lucy thanked her and then drove her vehicle around to the back of the house, past beds of blue hydrangeas and a vegetable plot, where tomatoes and fennel and silverbeet had been drenched by the heavy rain.

From there, she went through a gate, then followed muddy wheel tracks across a wet paddock until she reached the old, galvanised iron structure that served as a machinery shed.

There was a light inside the shed. Her heart was as fluttery as a bird’s as she turned off her ute’s motor. Consciously gathering her courage, she hurried to the lighted doorway.

The rain was making a dreadful racket on the iron roof, so there was no point in knocking. She went inside and the smell of diesel oil seemed to close in around her. The shed was almost a museum of aging tractors and the walls were hung with relics from the past – an ancient riding harness, the metal steps of a sulky, even a wagon wheel.

She saw the top of Will’s head as he bent over a modern tractor engine, tapping at it with a spanner.

The storm battered against the walls of the shed and Lucy began to wonder why she’d thought it was so important to hurry over here. She’d never seen Will doing any kind of mechanical task and she felt like an intruder. He was probably trying to get the job finished by dinnertime and he might not appreciate her interruption.

‘Will,’ she called.

He looked up and his eyebrows lifted with surprise. ‘Lucy, what are you doing here?’

Setting down the spanner, he grabbed at a rag and wiped his hands as he hurried around the front of the tractor.

His shoulders stretched the seams of a faded blue cotton shirt. Weather-beaten jeans rode low on his hips and everything about him looked perfect to her.

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