Red Wine and Summer Storms: Red Dust Series, #3

By Christine Gardner

After a painful breakup with her long term boyfriend, lawyer Clare Sutton moves to Mildura to open her own practice not too far from Karinya Station, where her brother lives with his family. She's thrilled to have her own office, even if she spends most of her days with paperwork, and is not looking for any romantic attachments.
On a visit to Karinya she meets Max Fraser, grape grower and budding wine maker. They become friends and he protects her on more than one occasion, because someone is stalking her, and although Clare's work involves contact with criminals, at first she doesn't take it seriously. It's not long before her feelings for Max become more than friendship, but is it the kind of relationship that her brother has with his wife Prue? The kind that will last a lifetime? 
In 1923, Fern is fresh from Sydney with her new husband, returned soldier George, to start a new life on a citrus orchard in Curlwaa. Their life is filled with hardships but their love for each other never dies and Fern has no regrets. 
In 1985, now a widow, Fern lives in Mildura, next-door to Clare, and they become good friends. Estranged from her remaining family Fern looks on Clare almost as a daughter and becomes worried about her when she realises someone is watching her.

Readers of the other books in the Red Dust Series will know Clare and her family from 'The Road to Karinya', but each book can be read as a stand alone novel. 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christine Gardner
• Release date: Sep 23, 2018
• ISBN: 9781386168263

Christine Gardner

Christine has had a fascination for history most of her life. When the youngest of her five sons started school Christine went back to school as well. After several years at TAFE, studying both visual arts and writing, she went to university and eventually graduated with a BA in History/Philosophy of Religion, with Honours. She's written all kinds of books since then, most with at least some history included.

Book preview

CHAPTER ONE

Clare, Mildura 1985

I TOOK ONE LAST LOOK around my tiny office, just to make sure I hadn’t forgotten anything, and just because I loved that it was all my responsibility to lock up and make sure everything was left safe and sound, if not terribly tidy. My mother would be horrified at the mess in my desk drawers but Dad wouldn’t. They were both ridiculously proud of me anyway, to the extent that it worried me sometimes. I had a lot to live up to—the only one in the family with a university education and the ambition to go with it, although sometimes I wondered if Mum’s ambition for me was greater than my own.

I did love the law though; I’d loved every bit of my studies and most of my time in Sydney working for Harris and Hughes. I especially loved having my own little practice in Mildura, with my teeny office and cases that my high powered co-workers in the city would laugh at. The point was it was mine, all of it. With a lot of help from my parents I had my own law practice.

The morning had been busy; I’d arranged an adjournment for Ryan, a petty thief, because he was in hospital after a car accident. I’d been to see him and he was guilty as sin but it was his first offence, or at least the first time he’d been charged with an offence, and I was confident I could get him community service or a suspended sentence. I had a feeling he’d do time sooner or later though, unless something, or someone, miraculous came into his empty life. Like many of my clients he was pathetic and I had to be careful not to allow myself to become emotionally involved, but poor Ryan was so alone and so needy I wished I could do something for him.

I closed the door and locked it, then turned the knob to make sure it actually was locked. It was just after midday, an early start to the weekend for me, and I turned up the car radio and sang ‘Girls Just Wanna have Fun’ with Cyndi Lauper as I drove to my flat a couple of blocks from my office. It was wonderful living in the country and one of the best things about a place like Mildura was that, being so far from any capital city, it simply had to have services that other towns of this size didn’t have. And all within walking distance or a very short drive—no peak hour traffic or bustling crowds, except maybe during the Christmas rush.

My neighbour, Fern, was sitting on her front verandah as usual, with my cat Timmy curled up on her lap.

G’day Clare, she called. I won’t get up—Timmy’s comfy.

I walked over to talk to her. He’s not going to even notice I’m gone, is he?

She smiled and stroked the long orange fur on his back, while he purred loudly, with just a glance in my direction. He’ll notice tonight, I’m sure. He’s used to sleeping on his mum’s bed, isn’t he?

I nodded. Thanks so much, Fern. I don’t know what I’d do without you.

Nonsense. I love having him. I have the joy of cat companionship without any of the responsibilities.

My flat was actually half an old house and Fern had the other half. It had been converted in the sixties and was a little old-fashioned as far as the kitchen and bathroom went, but I loved the big rooms and the character of the place. We shared the yard and the landlord, Joe Rizzo, looked after that himself, popping in every second Saturday to mow the lawn and collect the rent. Fern was eighty and had been in the flat for nearly ten years; after her husband died she’d sold their property and spent most of her money travelling around the world. Poor George would never go anywhere, she told me. Couldn’t leave the block.  Well, we’ve got no kids and I wasn’t about to leave our hard earned to the bloody government. May as well waste it myself. She’d invested enough to see her out, she said, and the rest sent her cruising the world. Now she was happy to spend her days remembering.

I’d seen a photo of her and George on the mantelpiece in her lounge room—he was tall and handsome, with shiny dark hair, parted on the side and flattened down with some kind of oil. Fern said it was probably Vaseline, borrowed from someone at the house where they were married. He never used anything on his hair at home but always wore a hat. Fern’s hair was long and in waves, with the sides pinned back behind her ears and little curls on the sides. It was hard to see what colour it was then but she told me it was ginger. She looked young and pretty and full of hope; they both looked so happy.

I left Timmy and her sitting in the sun and went in to get changed. It was always a relief to kick off my high heels and the grey suit I wore for court. I hung my jacket up and threw my blouse in the hamper and my skirt over my bedside chair. I took the pins out of my chignon and brushed my hair out before tying it back in a ponytail. My bag was packed for the weekend and I was so looking forward to spending it with my brother and his little family at Karinya, the outback station belonging to his in-laws. Dan and Prue had three kids, a boy and two girls, and they were such fun; I loved them to bits and they were always happy to see their doting aunt.

I was on my way out the door—my hand on the doorknob—when the phone rang. I thought of ignoring it—surely it could wait till Monday, whatever it was—but I couldn’t of course. I sighed and put down my bag before I went to the phone hanging on the wall over the kitchen bench.

Hello, Clare Sutton speaking.

Clare! It’s me.

Me? I knew who it was all right but I wasn’t about to let him know that.

He made an odd little sound, like a half-laugh. Pete. It’s Pete.

Right. I’m just about to head out. Is it important?

Ah. Do you have a date?

I hadn’t had a date for months and it was none of his business. What is it, Pete? Did you ring to inquire about my love life? I’m heading off for the weekend right now. Bye.

Wait! Clare, just a minute, please. Please, love.

Love? What the hell was he after? I sighed. Much as I hated his guts I had to know. Sixty seconds then.

I made a mistake, Clare. It took me a while but I realise now—it’s you I need. It was always you. I just got a bit—side-tracked by Skye, you know? She was—different. Now I know her better and she’s just not good for me, not like you. We’re perfect for each other, Clare. Remember? Remember how we were together?

I remembered all right. I remembered it all. I especially remembered walking into the kitchen of the flat Pete and I had shared for two years and I remembered seeing the dreadlocked head and I remembered the blissful expression on Pete’s face, as he sat on the pink vinyl chair with the girl kneeling in front of him. At first I thought it was a man and when she looked up I think my first feeling was actually relief! She smiled and I turned and walked away, with as much dignity as I possibly could. It should have been her who was undignified but I felt stupid and awkward. She was stunning, of course, in spite of the hairdo and the op shop clothes she wore. She was a student and I don’t know where they met. I never bothered to ask. He rang me later and I told him to be gone before I got back. He was, but in the long run I decided I couldn’t live there anymore. I made a quick trip home to Mundubbera and, although I intended to keep it to myself, I blurted out everything to Mum.

Mum had been very fond of Pete, or at least the idea of Pete. He was a partner at the law firm where I worked and considered a real up and comer. He was handsome, with auburn hair and grey eyes, and tall enough that I could wear high heels if I wanted to. He knew how to behave in public and always dressed impeccably—the ideal man. It was only when I was away from the charm that I realised I hadn’t really loved him—like my mother, I just thought he was right for me—a sensible choice.

I was independent now, with no man in my life and happier than I’d been for years. No-one to answer to if I was running late—well, just Timmy, but he was very forgiving—no-one to pick up after and the toilet seat was always down.

Peter, I’m sorry things didn’t work out for you and Skye, but I’ve moved on now, okay?

I could hear him smile. His voice changed, as if somehow I’d said the exact opposite of what I’d heard myself say.

You don’t have anyone else, do you?

That’s really none of your business. I have to go now. I hung up the phone and ignored it when it rang again as I left.

Mildura was hardly the big smoke, more a sprawling country town; built beside the grand and beautiful Murray River it was the hub of a much larger community of fruit growing properties as well as farms further out and, even further out, stations like Karinya. I was glad to be getting away from it though, just for the weekend. I was a country girl, born and bred, from a citrus orchard in Queensland; it was nothing like Karinya but it was pretty much in the middle of nowhere. I had the best of both worlds now; I was close enough to Karinya to visit often and Mildura was big enough to satisfy my modest needs as far as shopping and entertainment went. If I really wanted to go to a city I’d probably hop on a plane and go to Sydney to stay with Uncle Lance and Auntie Barb. They weren’t even related, not really, but I’d stayed with them while I was at uni and they felt like family. Barb was actually the sister of my brother’s mother-in-law, which sounds complicated but, even though Lance is a judge and they’re very well off, they’re not complicated at all.

Prue, my sister-in-law, had organized for me to spend a week or so with them, just until I found somewhere to live in Sydney, but after the first couple of days they’d asked me to stay on. I didn’t hesitate—apart from the ridiculous price of accommodation of any sort in Sydney I just loved their company. I found Barb so down to earth and practical and they were both so friendly. I had my own bathroom and even a little sitting room if I wanted to have anyone over, or study, and Barb was a great cook!

Lance being a judge didn’t hurt either of course—he was very helpful with anything I had trouble understanding but he was also very busy and I spent more time with Barb. I didn’t tell anyone at uni that I lived at Judge Bennett’s home but somehow it became common knowledge by the end of the first semester. Some people teased me about it and others tried to wangle an invitation to meet him but I ignored it all.

It was around three hours to Karinya and I planned to stop in Wentworth for a drink and just to break the drive. I sang along to the radio most of the way; the drive was familiar enough and I found it relaxing. Passing the many citrus orchards along the road I always wondered about the people who lived there—were they like my family back home? They seemed to be much smaller properties here though and much closer to towns; I could only see those along the main road of course but I doubted there’d be any the size of ours in Mundubbera.

When I arrived in Wentworth I went straight to a little coffee shop I’d been to before and ordered a coffee and a toasted ham sandwich—a late lunch. I sat at the window and looked through the white lace curtains. It was a busy time for Wentworth, being a Friday afternoon. Men were coming in from surrounding properties with their week’s wages, to sit in the pub and catch up with mates while their wives shopped for groceries. There was a sense of urgency and an excitement that always comes with a weekend—no work for two days. I felt it myself, even though I loved my work.

I was in no hurry and enjoyed a leisurely lunch before I hit the road again. Heading away from Wentworth it wasn’t long before I was well and truly in the outback. There’d been some good spring rains and the paddocks were green, with spots of colour from wildflowers scattered here and there. Last time I’d been out this way it had all been brown and yellow and it was good to see the effect of the rain. I was well aware how dependent the stations were on rain, in spite of the bores and creeks. The creeks would soon dry out if there was none, as would the pastures.

It was late afternoon when I arrived at the homestead and I was both excited to see my family and exhausted—I knew I’d be more exhausted after a couple of hours with my busy nieces and nephew! Sure enough they came running out to meet me as I pulled up near the back door.

Auntie Clare! It’s Auntie Clare, Mummy! The youngest and noisiest member of the family, Zoe, yelled at the top of her voice.

She ran over and threw herself at my legs as soon as I was out of the car and I picked her up. Oh my goodness. You are getting so big, Zoe Sutton! I can barely lift you!

She grinned and nodded. It’s my birthday soon and I’m going to be five years old. She held up five fingers and I counted them.

One, two, three, four, five. So you are.

I put her down and Amy came over for a hug, while ten year old Scott stood back and watched. Can I carry your bag, Auntie Clare? he asked politely.

Oh, could you, Scotty? That would be wonderful. I’m so tired. How about a hug for your poor old aunt?

He grinned and gave me a squeeze and then grabbed my overnight bag from the back seat. Amy picked up my handbag from the front seat and Zoe took my hand and led me to the door, where Prue was waiting.

It’s so good to see you, she said as we hugged. We don’t see nearly enough of you.

We entered the huge kitchen and Prue ordered me to sit down while she went to get us a cup of tea. I could smell lamb roasting in the old wood stove and my mouth watered. It smells fantastic in here. I’d be here every weekend if it wasn’t quite so far, I said. Your turn to visit me now.

Maybe we will—care to put this lot up for a weekend?

Absolutely! Bring your tent!

She grinned. We might just do that—camping out in the big city of Mildura.

Makes a change from the muddy old river bank, doesn’t it? Plenty of room in our back yard.

Our?

Mine and Fern’s!

Oh, right. For a minute I thought you had a bloke you hadn’t told us about.

No time for blokes. I’m a busy lawyer now.

The girls were sitting at the table with lemon cordial in brightly coloured plastic mugs and Scott was putting my bag in the room I usually slept in while I was there. Amy had a book in front of her and was reading quietly but I knew she was listening to every word we said as well. I wouldn’t mention Pete until the children were in bed, if at all.

Mum and Dad have visitors too. They’ll be over for tea tomorrow. One’ll be here tonight.

Oh? Who?

Have you met Mum’s friend Kate? They’ve been mates since Terri was born. They were in hospital together and I think, with Terri being Mum’s first, Kate was a big help to her.

Wow. That’s going back a bit!

Yeah, she’s quite a woman, Kate. She had thirteen kids!

Thirteen? You’re kidding!

She’s amazing. Her family won’t let her drive out this far so her grandkids take it in turns to bring her out, around once a month or so. Mum and Dad stay in Wentworth quite a bit too.

So Kate lives in Wentworth?

No, she’s still on the block, at Curlwaa; one of her sons runs the place and they have a full house but Mum drives over to see her when they’re in Wentworth.

We took our mugs of tea into the lounge-room and I sat in the comfy vinyl armchair that I knew was Dan’s. The room was cosy, with lots of pictures on the walls, and cushions and ornaments everywhere; I could scarcely remember what it had been like when Prue’s parents lived in the big house. Bare, I thought. Ellie and Keith had moved to a cottage on the property even before Dan and Prue had kids and seemed perfectly happy with that arrangement. They also had the house in Wentworth of course and they travelled quite a bit as well.

So how’s my big brother?

Prue smiled and I could see just from that look on her face that she was still besotted with him and I was pleased for them both. It made me feel, not hopeful for myself, but happy for them and the kids, that they had such a good relationship.

He’s fit as a scrub bull, as always. And he’s doing such a good job here Dad says he doesn’t know how he ever managed without him. He’s a natural.

I nodded. Luckily Steve seems to handle things okay at Mundy.

I don’t think he’s ever likely to leave. If he ever settles down his wife will have to live there with him.

Yeah, Mum’s always nagging him but he just doesn’t seem interested.

She’ll be wanting grandkids she can actually see every day.

I smiled. And also to take over one day, poor buggers.

Don’t you miss it?

Oh, sometimes. I miss Mum and Dad but then I have you and Dan here and Karinya’s just as good as Mundy.

We do have one orange tree out the back.

I grinned. Plenty along the road—I should grab some on the way home.

Prue waggled her finger at me. No grabbing! You find a roadside stall and buy some!

I will. I’ll take some home to Fern—she’s cat-sitting for me.

I heard the back door open and the noise of three children excited to see their dad home from work. Prue and I smiled at each other and both stood up.

Better say g’day to the boss, she said with a grin.

G’day boss.

No, the other one!

I followed her out to the kitchen and Dan extricated himself from Zoe’s clutch and grabbed me in a bear hug. Hey, little sis! How are you?

I squeezed him as