“I did,” I fan myself with my hat again, cursing the heat and lamenting the extra time I’ll take fixing the fence. But Ryan is more important right now, and Rob will understand that. “Is that okay?”
My heart seizes just a little as his breathing hitches, but then he answers, “Oscar…Daddy, it’s better than okay. Thank you.”
Oh, thank God.
Ryan continues, oblivious to my sudden sense of overwhelming relief, “I had no idea where to start, and I…I felt stupid about it.” I don’t like the self-deprecation in his tone. “I’m almost fifty-two-years-old, and I just—I just panicked. I’ve never been sued before. I didn’t even think to call my own kid.”
“That’s a perfectly understandable response,” I soothe, wishing yet again that I could just bundle him into my arms and hold him until he feels better. “And I’m glad you don’t think I crossed a line. You’re my Boy, and I promised I’d take care of you. I know I should have asked you if it was okay first, but I didn’t think of calling Trevor until after our call ended.” Then I just acted on instinct.
Impulsive,I chide myself.That’s what landed you here to begin with.
Not that it’s a bad thing that I am. In fact, coming to Australia is still the best decision I’ve ever made, even if things have turned out quite differently to what I had originally anticipated. Some might argue they’ve turned out even better this way. They’d be right.
“We might not have considered this situation specifically, but I meant it when I said I trusted you to make important decisions for me,” he reminds me gently, and now I wonder which one of us is supposed to be comforting the other. “This is part of that. It means a lot to me that you reached out to Trev, and I’m glad that I don’t have to go looking for a lawyer now. It’s a weight off my shoulders. A huge weight, actually. So, yeah. Thank you, Daddy.” He goes quiet for a beat before he says, “Can I…I mean, would Rob let me hire a cabin for a few nights? I, um, I’m going to cancel my appointments for the next couple of days and…I really just want to be close to you. It’s okay if you have to work, but—”
“Rob ain’t gonna take your money,” I tell him with certainty, more than excited by the prospect of seeing him tonight after all. Of being able to hold him close and see for myself that he’s really okay. “But there’ll definitely be a cabin here for you, honey. Leave that to me and drive carefully, all right?”
Ryan promises that he will, and we say goodbye again. Cringing at the mess of fence posts and wire I still need to dealwith, I bring Rob’s contact details up on my screen and call him next.
Come hell or high water, I’m taking care of my Boy first.
Chapter Fifteen – Ryan
Wombat Run Station is a sight for sore eyes. I’ve only been here once before but pulling up to the main gate and its logo which is far too cute for a cattle station, but is somehow perfect for the men behind these brick and iron walls, fills me with a sense of home and belonging so strong that my eyes well with tears. Dusty’s the one to meet me this time, greeting me with a jovial wave before he opens the gates and gestures for me to drive through.
There’s just something special about this place. A lot of it is the people, I’m sure. They’re all so welcoming and nonjudgemental; something I’ve come to fully appreciate in the months since Oscar and I started dating. Hearing his stories about their shenanigans assures me that I can embrace my Daddy with open arms and even call him by that title without any of these stationhands so much as batting an eye.
It’s not just the people, though. The place itself is warm and inviting. The long, gravel driveway leads up to the main farmhouse, which looks like something out of a TV show or movie. It’s a high-set single storey Queenslander-style house; timber in construction with a wrap-around veranda and a corrugated roof. The outer façade is painted a mossy green colour, and all the balustrades, support beams and window trims are bright white. It’s just socountryand welcoming.
The paddocks and fields around the property are vast, and while they’re not all lush and green (not with the WesternAustralian sun bearing down on them all year around), there’s still something idyllic about the stretches of reddish brown dirt and grass which has faded to almost a wheaten colour.
The sky overhead is clear and stretches on forever and is currently turning magenta and pink with streaks of orange as the sun begins to set — a spectacular view which is only enhanced by the fluffy white clouds drifting over the horizon.
You just don’t get views like this in the city.
Admittedly, I get wonderful ocean sunset views from my little villa on the beach, but there’s something extra spectacular about watching the sun setting over the seemingly never-ending paddocks at the station.
Then there’s also the scents in the air. It smells like a farm, with cattle and horses and grass, but the air is fresh and crisp, even in the dying heat of the early evening. I find it invigorating and soothing all at once, even if I am technically a born and bred city boy.
Maybe I’m a reformed city boy? Reforming, even?
My train of thought is derailed as the front door of the main house swings open and Rob steps out, beaming down at me from the top of the front steps. “Doc!” he greets jovially, making an ushering movement with his arm, “Come on in. Let’s get you a drink.”
“Just water’s fine,” I tell him, and he scoffs.
“After the day you’ve had, plus that drive? At least have a beer with me.” Then he stops in his tracks and grimaces, shifting to apologetic as he goes on, “Unless you don’t drink alcohol. The boys keep telling me I need to stop just assuming everyone does.”
“It’s all good,” I shoot him an easy smile. “I do drink occasionally…mostly socially, to be honest…but I’m usually more a red wine guy, or I’ll have a good quality bourbon over ice.”
“I can arrange either of those things.”
“Maybe later.” I wipe my feet on the welcome mat before I step onto the polished timber floors inside. “How’s Jemima doing? And Little Ted?” Cocking my head, I move to turn back to the door. “Want me to check in on them? Or any other animals while I’m here?”
“All the animals are doing just fine,” Rob places his hand on my shoulder and redirects me towards a generously sized living room, “and you’re not working while you’re here. Ozzy would have my head if he thought I was taking advantage that way.”
I snort. “You’re his boss, and you’re doing me a huge favour letting me crash in one of your cabins for a couple of nights. The least I can do is—”
“Nuh-uh. You’re a guest here, Doc, and your money isn’t any good here, either, just before you start getting any ideas.” He guides me into a cushy brown leather armchair. “Besides, he’s your Dom, not me. He’d have every right to take me to task if I put you to work.”