Page 181 of Sugarloaf Ridge Lies

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Jerry

Three days of moo,moo, fuckin’ mooing.

I should get a pair of noise-cancelling headphones, but they’d probably be useless. Even two paddocks over from the yards, I’d still hear the deep bellows of the cows echoing through the valley.

A loud whistle rings out from the old tin shelter near the yards, followed by the jangle of a cowbell. “Grub’s up!” Bernie calls out.

Red and the boys waste no time heading over to escape the bite of the midday sun. They’ve earnt this meal and then some, and will no doubt enjoy the beers on offer tonight. As much as they’ll whine at dusk when I say I’m headed home, it’s better that way. Trying to stay on the wagon is hard enough.

I lag behind the group of men, trying to untangle the mess in my head of what’s been done and what’s left to do.

The calves marked for sale have been trucked out, the rest seem to be handling the adjustment to the yards. They’ve made a healthy dent in the hay and supplements, but we’ll need more if weaning stretches past six or seven days, or if a few weaners struggle with the change.

With Mum giving me space, I made the call to segregate some of the larger weaners to ensure the smaller ones get their fair share of feed. I organised for the boys to set up some makeshift shade tents with old tarps to provide more protection from the heat.

After all these years, some things you don’t forget. Pride fills my boots. I won’t let Finn down like I have before.

Dragging my feet into the cool of the shelter, I wash the sweat and dust from my face over the rusted tub in the corner then rinse the hint of dirt from my mouth. I can’t switch off, my muscles ache and the heat feels as if it’s draining the marrow from my bones. My head clouded with a mountain of worries, I try to clear them, focusing instead on the guys as they laugh and talk amongst themselves while they shovel down sandwiches and scull cans of soft drink, as if they don’t have a care in the world.

“Can I just say how wonderful it is seeing you work on the Station again?” Bernie says. Her red painted lips stretch with a wide smile. She’s dressed the part today in dark jeans, riding boots, and a red flannelette shirt over a black singlet top.

I shove off my hat and press a kiss to her rounded cheek. “Sure, you can say it, but it’s a one off.”

“Oh, hush. Let me enjoy it. I know you have your own farm now.” She ushers me to the end of the table, and we sit opposite each other. “Couldn’t be prouder of you. Now eat.”

Her faith in me makes me believe I could conquer the world. Bernie’s always been there for me, especially in those dark teenage years. She was the one I confided in when I couldn’t talk to Mum. I’m stoked I can now make her proud, after all the effort she’s put into me over the years. “Thanks, and cheers again for feedin’ us.”

She tightens her ponytail, her earrings swishing from side to side with a shake of her head. “Gah, who else am I gonna cook for?”

It’s been over two decades since Uncle Frank left us, and yet she’s single. How long does it take to get over losing the love of your life? I don’t remember him, as I was only two or three when he passed from a heart attack. The stories Bernie’s shared have brought my uncle to life in my mind.

“Maybe you need a man?” The moment the words leave my mouth, I prepare myself for a slap.Did that sound as sexist as it sounded? Did Uncle Frank just roll over in his grave?

Laughter bursts from her mouth. “That so, huh?”

I sigh, grateful she sees the humour in my statement. “You deserve to be happy, to have someone look after you like you do everyone else.”

“I’m happy, love. Besides, I have you rascals to look out for, and there are two beautiful babies on the way. A man is only going to demand my precious time.”

I narrow my eyes at her as she slides a platter of food closer.

She leans in. “Aside from the fact that it’s slim pickings ’round here, no one will ever love and cherish me the way Frank did.”

And there it is. I hope Liv feels the same way about me because, at this point, if I was to lose her, my whole world would come crushing down.

A heaviness settles in my gut. I don’t think Bernie will ever open herself to love again. It’s a damn shame because she’s incredible.

“So,” she says and waves her hand towards a nearby plate of sandwiches. “Spoken to your mum?”

I grab a triangle and bite into it. She rolls her eyes as I take my time eating and delaying my answer. Mum has honoured my wishes—let me get on with the job, keeping in touch with Red for updates.

“No, but if you speak to her, tell her we need to source some more supplements. Don’t wanna be scramblin’ at the last minute.”

She bites the inside of her cheek. “Why don’t you tell her yourself. Talk things out. Be the bigger person.”

I can’t.

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