“You know this place better than I do, Tom.”
He took a sip and nodded his head in agreement. “And to be honest, I’m worried that the stock out there is going to have to be moved further in away from the river. The kids’ll be more use on the station, anyway.” He reached for another mug and poured tea for Libby. “I want to go back out and move more stock. The way the rain is coming down, I don’t want to risk leaving any animals within a mile of the creek. It’s bound to be a torrent river already.”
“You’re the boss.” Libby grabbed the mug of tea and looked out the window as the rain came down, blocking out the normal view in the back yard. She couldn’t even see the clothes line.
After breakfast, Tom sent Josh and Winton with two of the dogs in one direction to check stock, while he saddled up to go in another.
“Please, Tom,” Holly begged. “Let me come too. I can ride good enough now to help you.”
Tom looked over her head to where Libby watched. He was fast becoming Holly’s favorite person, and she dogged his every step.
“Do you think it’ll be safe?” Libby avoid the pleading look in her baby’s eyes.
“I’d never take her if it wasn’t, Libby,” he said. “I want to stay this side of the creek if I can, but she should be fine if she’s rugged up against the wet. I don’t expect any flooding to hit us until tomorrow at any rate.”
“Get your coat, Holly, and your hat.” Libby’s stomach clenched at the thought of a flood now that the possibility was here. She turned back to Tom. “What should I do here?”
“If you could drag the stock feed bags up into the shearing shed in case the water comes in here; that would save us a heap of money. Any tools that’re lying around can be put up high. Move the truck out onto the high side of the driveway too.” He rubbed the back of his neck as he thought. “The water pump on the house tanks could be put up on something, just in case. There’re some old, concrete blocks out the back of the stables you can use. You might want to fill some jugs with water in case the pump gets caught. Fill the generator with diesel and make sure you put candles and torches where we can find them easily enough. Fairly good chance we could lose power too if we get enough of a storm tonight. That should take care of things until I get back.”
Libby helped to saddle up Puddin’ and watched as they headed out. She walked back to the kitchen for a quick coffee and to get out the torches and candles as Tom had suggested. Deciding a casserole was a good idea for dinner, she put some steak and vegetables in the slow cooker and putting her hat on her head, ran through the rain to move the feed up into the shearing shed.
Libby found a small trolley and moved the heavy sacks of grain, one at a time, struggling with the weight of them while her mind ran over the dangers heading their way. She kept her eye on the door, looking for Tom and Holly or the boys to come back through the downpour. The rain grew heavier as the morning progressed. Libby stood and looked in the direction they had ridden hours before, and a small seed of doubt niggled in the back her mind. She squinted to see through the rain, but nothing was moving in her direction. Even the stock closest to the house stood huddled with their backs to the rain, heads down as they waited it out.
He knows what he’s doing. Tom wouldn’t endanger himself or Holly and the boys are nowhere near the water.
Winton was brought up in this environment too, and Josh could ride well enough. Tom knew more about the place than anyone else, and her baby would be safe with him. She knew that, but still, a small trickle of fear shivered up and down her spine as she looked out into the worsening weather.
She ran back through the rain to grab a coffee and sandwich and see to the pups that were at a loss without the kids. They whimpered at the door, pacing and unable to settle down, making her already unsettled nerves ratchet up a notch. She stared at the phone on the wall with the neighbor’s numbers beside it.
Should I call someone? Pull yourself together, Libby. What are you going to say? “Hi, Nathan, it’s Libby. Tom and the kids are out in the rain bringing in the stock, and I have a funny feeling.”
Deal with it.
They have a lot of ground to cover, and it’s pouring down rain. Go do something and make yourself useful. She had never been a drama queen, and now wasn’t the time to start; there was still too much to do.
Libby jammed her sodden hat back on her head. She ran over to the shed again, slipping and landing in puddles deeper than they looked. Her boots filled with cold, muddy water, squelching as she ran. That wet, musty smell she remembered from rainy school lunch breaks when everyone had to eat in the covered, outdoor area with wet socks and shoes had started to fill the shed.
The stock feed had been moved, and she’d sorted out most of the tools and anything else was beyond the waters reach. The lambs could do with a feed by the noise they were making. She made up their bottles and ran through the rain around to the stable, sat herself down on a bale of damp hay, held the bottles out to them and watched, fascinated, as they drained bottle after bottle.
The loud sound of horse’s
