The Cattleman's Special Delivery by Barbara Hannay Read Free Book Online Page A

uncertainly.
    There’d been good news and not so good. At least, the results of the tests were better than Reece had feared. His father didn’t need invasive procedures and he didn’t have to stay in hospital. But there were signs of congestive heart failure and, chances were, problems like fatigue, shortness of breath and swelling of his legs would get worse in the not too distant future.
    The doctor had increased the blood-pressure medication, and he’d suggested lifestyle modifications. He’d also strongly advised that Michael should consider moving from Warringa to a retirement village in Cairns.
    ‘There’s a very good place with a nursing home attached,’ the doctor had said, and he’d asked a social worker to provide them with pamphlets.
    Now, with a disgusted grunt, Reece’s father flicked the pamphlet off his bedspread, letting it flutter to the floor. ‘If they think I’m going into one of those damn places, they’ve another think coming.’
    ‘You’d be able to see a doctor regularly,’ Reece suggested carefully.
    His father simply scowled. ‘I couldn’t stand being holed up with a lot of dreary old folk, all of them losing their marbles together.’
    Bending down, Reece picked up the pamphlet. It showed pictures of healthy, happy seniors all neatly dressed and smiling, and enjoying a range of activities—art classes, walking groups, golf, gardening...
    ‘If anything happens...’ Reece frowned as he chose his words carefully. ‘If there’s a medical emergency, you’d be looked after straight away. Think how long it would take a doctor to get out to Warringa.’
    ‘I don’t care. I’m happy to die there,’ his father announced emphatically. ‘I’ve lived there all my flaming life and I don’t plan to leave my home now.’
    It was hard for Reece to hear his father speak so casually about death. But they’d lived together, just the two of them, for so long that, of course, he wasn’t surprised. His dad had only ever known the red dust and wide open skies and the isolation that came with outback life. He couldn’t honestly imagine Michael Weston settling into an art class or going for a walk in the Cairns Botanical Gardens with a bunch of chattering old folk.
    His dad’s life had been tough and lonely—driving mobs of cattle across vast tracks of wild country, coping with droughts and floods and fires. His father’s one attempt at marriage had been an abject failure, and after the divorce Michael Weston had stubbornly turned his back on society.
    Reflecting on this now, Reece found himself remembering another time, when he was five years old, when his dad had brought him here to this same hospital in Cairns to visit his mother and to meet his new baby brother. His heart still ached when he remembered his mother in bed, looking pale and lovely in a frilly pink bed jacket.
    ‘Your little brother’s called Anthony,’ she’d told Reece as he’d peeped shyly into the cot.
    ‘But we’ll call him Tony,’ his dad had added.
    His mother had snapped. ‘No, we won’t.’
    Reece could still remember the fear that had gripped him as he’d become aware, yet again, of his parents’ tight-lipped animosity. Tension had bristled in the air around him as he’d stared into the cot at his brother. He’d been hoping for a playmate—he’d seen baby calves that could stagger onto four legs within minutes of birth—and he was disappointed that his brother was so tiny and helpless. Anthony—or Tony—did nothing but sleep.
    ‘Will Anthony be able to play with me when he wakes up?’
    His mother had laughed at this, and then she’d cried. She’d cried hard and long.
    In the end, Reece had never played with his little brother, not unless he counted their awkward attempts to kick a football around a backyard, during his infrequent visits south. His mother had never brought the new baby home to Warringa. She’d stayed in Cairns.
    In later years, Reece learned that she’d had post-natal