7
Ross
It could be mistakenfor fog, the visibility so low I was sure if I reached out, my hand would disappear. The acrid scent of burnt trees was the dead giveaway, though. It was too close for comfort. Too real.
Once more, I checked the Facebook page, scrolling through for updates. There was no mention of an immediate threat. No discussion of a fire within twenty kilometres or so, but this wasn’t my first rodeo.
I’d seen first-hand how a stray spark could dance in the breeze and find purchase on dry leaves fifty metres away, lighting up the baked earth and the parched trees as quickly as a match.
Next, I checked my messages—Facebook and general text—but there was nothing. Craig was out, called in from work again yesterday to suit up and head out to a small fire on the other side of town. My brother knew what he was doing. He’d been a rural firefighter since he was sixteen. Before that he’d hung out with Dad and Uncle Bill at the station from the time he was twelve, desperate for the chance to join up.
It didn’t mean I worried less. Then there was this smoke. I knew rationally, it would have been the smoke from whatever fire my brother was helping to fight, probably twenty-five minutes or so drive away, but still, anxiety gnawed in my gut.
Devastation and loss were thick in the air from so many parts of the country. With the news of the destructive fires and their horrors trickling in fast and thick, I jumped between annoyance at myself for overthinking the dangers to our own region and desperation that I could be—should bedoing something more.
For now, though, an update was all I needed. A simple okay would put me at ease, but instead, with smoke thick in the air, nothing could distract me. It didn’t help that Dan was out as well.
I sighed and cracked my neck from side to side, attempting to release the build-up of tension settling there. The last thing I needed to think about was Dan. In doing so, my concern spiked further.
It had only been over the past three weeks or so that everything had finally settled between the two of us. While Dan’s initial distance had hurt, I’d given him the space he needed, determined not to put pressure on the guy. But finally, after I’d figured out what the real problem was, I’d worked hard at making things right and getting back where we were—hanging out, having fun, and me struggling with being so hung up on him I couldn’t see past him to date anyone else.
“Bloody hell,” I grumbled, turning my back on the open valley and heading to my shed. I needed to stay active before I pulled my hair out or decided to do something reckless like jump in my Hilux and find the pair of them.
My brother and Dan weren’t always known for thinking things through. Yeah, they were great at what they did, both in their day jobs and as rural firefighters, but that sometimes meant they went above and beyond. Running on lack of sleep and working overtime to catch up with days missed last week from tackling two localised bushfires meant they probably wouldn’t be at their sharpest.
I exhaled loudly and started up my old Macy. One of the paddocks had too much regrowth, especially considering the current dangers, so clearing it up was practical, and I hoped it would offer me the distraction needed.
Dust followed my path, the scorched earth offering nothing but a greater hazard to my visibility. I was certain the sun was pissed off, not being able to spread its searing heat through the smoke blanketing the earth. And while the respite from the sun’s rays would have been welcome any other time, today, seeing clear blue skies and the relentless sun would have been a relief.
The vibration from my phone caught my attention. I braked, putting the old girl in neutral as I tugged my mobile out of my pocket. It was Mum.
“All okay?” I said on answer.
“I’ve heard from Dad.” She sounded breathless, the slightest hint that something wasn’t quite right not so well hidden in her shaky voice.
“Dad okay?”
“Yes,” she rushed out, immediately making my heart stutter and try to beat more regularly. “He’s helping coordinate things.”
“Okay,” I said slowly, waiting for her to get to the point of calling. I wasn’t impatient by nature, but hell if these recent sparks didn’t get me angsty. We were so lucky, incredibly so. In New South Wales and now Victoria, the flames were out of control. It was more like they wereincontrol, destroying everything in their path and leaving nothing but devastation behind. So we were lucky in comparison. While fires continued to break out in our region, so far, our local rural firies were able to contain each and every one before they got out of hand.
The thought of them not being able to do so wasn’t something I wanted to consider.
“He contacted me saying there’s been a forecast for strong winds.” I looked around me as she spoke, taking note of the gentle breeze brushing past the gum leaves and making the silky oaks rustle. “He’s worried it’ll push the fires further west.”
“Towards you?” I said slowly, trying to keep my panic at bay. Mum and Dad lived about forty minutes northwest of me.
“I’m sure it’ll be fine. You know what these weather reports are like.” Her voice was tightly controlled. In my thirty-three years, I’d heard it several times, and usually when she was about to lose her shit at me, my brother, or Dad, or because she was afraid. With Craig and Dad being out all night, I imagined it was a combination.
“I’ll head your way now.”
“No, no.” I could visualise her shaking her head, worrying her necklace as she spoke.
“Mum, I’m coming. Start sorting the horses. Get the float ready. I’ll be there as quickly as I can.”
“You sure?” And there was the relief. It was clear as day, despite her fear of being a bother.
“Of course I’m sure. Just keep your phone on you and keep your two-way open on the ATV if you use it. I’ll be able to pick up a signal a few K out, just in case. Love you, Ma. See you soon.”
