Author's note: Home at last, and there is much talking, lots of fluffery, Effie cooks and Eliot gives Gertie The Talk.
As the sun dropped towards the horizon and sent long tendrils of shadow across the warm asphalt, Team Leverage was welcomed back to the comfort of family. Hugs were given and received and Lizzie prattled and giggled and kissed her grandparents repeatedly, her delight at being home outweighing her manners, which for once nobody seemed to mind.
Jo Monro swept her fingers through her crown of silver-auburn curls and smiled and chuckled, and then wept a little until her face hurt, but she didn't care a whit. In between Lizzie's chatter and all of the hugging, she did what she always did, and checked her family.
Although Team Leverage had been back in Portland for the past couple of months Jo had kept in touch with the team via the new-fangled technology Hardison had gifted them before leaving Wapanjara. Video-calls didn't replace having the people she loved around her in person, but at least she could see them and make sure they were taking care of themselves.
They all looked well but tired, she decided, apart from Lizzie, who flitted like a hummingbird from Soapy to Jo and back again, unable, it seemed, to let go of their hands unless it was to wrap her arms around their waists for a hug.
Jo grinned as Nate dropped a kiss on her cheek and she cupped his face.
"It's so good to see you all, Nate," she murmured, and Nate's face creased into a cheeky grin. "I can't wait for you to see Wapanjara – it's changed a bit," she added cryptically.
"Oh, I hope not too much," Sophie said, dark eyes wide with concern as she hugged Soapy. Sophie especially treasured Wapanjara. For a woman who loved a cosmopolitan lifestyle and all of the trappings it brought, somehow the old homestead and its quiet, timeless solitude had worked its way into her heart.
Jo laughed, her voice bell-like in the balmy air.
"I think you'll like it, although it isn't finished yet. At least you won't have to sleep in a tent this time," she added, and saw the relief on Sophie's face. "You have a real bed!"
Lizzie's face lit up.
"Do I have my own room, Grandma? Really?"
Jo winked.
"Right next to Eliot's, and you even have a door out onto the veranda," she said conspiratorially, and Lizzie let out a squeak of joy.
"Good-oh!" she warbled, instantly settling back into Australian vernacular, "that means I can keep an eye on Eliot and take care of him next time he gets shot!"
"Dammit, 'Lizbeth Grace!" Eliot swore, sounding disgruntled. "You'd think I got shot on purpose!"
Lizzie snorted.
"You're always getting biffed or shot or something," she said with authority, "and someone has to look after you! And I'm good at helping, aren't I, Grandma?"
Jo nodded, treating Lizzie's query with the gravity it deserved.
"Indeed you are, young Lizzie. Very good indeed. You are an excellent Eliot-nurse!"
And for a moment Jo remembered a six-year-old Lizzie watching over Eliot as Jo took a bullet out of him, and the little girl's selfless care and love of her 'Good Wolf' as he struggled with fever and nightmares and infection.
"Like you didn't run towards the bad guy in Washington all those years ago and got shot twice for your troubles!" Parker snarked as she poked Eliot in the arm.
"OW! Stop it, Parker!" Eliot groused and rubbed the poked bit.
"And, of course, there was that dumbass Mcallister, El. Remember?"Hardison teased mercilessly.
Eliot's eye tic'd.
"I was wearin' my spidey armour!" he snarled, mentioning the lightweight specially-designed body protector Hardison had made for him and which saved his life when psychotic Danny Mcallister Junior had shot the Oklahoman from only feet away.
"And then there was that sniper, Eades –" Nate continued, scratching his chin.
" –as well as Chong. Bloody man," Sophie added waspishly. "And, there are always the times when for some ridiculous reason you think you need to take a beating for the team. Remember your Bruce Willis moment? Hmmm? Yippee-kay-ay indeed!"
Eliot glared ferociously at these people he loved and surreptitiously rubbed the place under his left arm where a scar lay, the muscle still achy and sometimes stiff, from the bullet that had nicked a vein and caused him to nearly bleed to death only a couple of months previously. He didn't like to admit it, but he still had a little bit of a problem raising the arm over his head. But, he determined, he would work on it and it would improve. He hoped.
Lizzie wasn't in the least deterred by her guardian's growly defence. She raised an eyebrow, and pursed her lips.
"It doesn't matter, because you get hurt and then you get grumpy and Grandma and Effie and me … we have to look after you because you're silly," she complained, and then flung her arms around his waist in what she obviously thought was a supportive hug. Eliot muttered something under his breath, but luckily Lizzie didn't understand it.
"You're looking well, anyway," Soapy observed, and Jo had to agree. But they were disturbed by airport staff trundling luggage from the jet into the hangar and thence to the exterior parking lot, thankfully without the hassle of immigration checks, which had already been dealt with at Darwin. "Righto – let's get going. If we're lucky, we'll make it before dark," he added, and reached out to take Lizzie's hand. "C'mon, sweetheart – let's go home."
Lizzie unwrapped herself from Eliot's midriff and took the proffered hand, but before the little group headed towards the exit, she tugged on Soapy's fingers.
"Grandpa! I forgot something! I'll be right back!"
And before anyone could stop her, she ran to the jet and disappeared inside, re-emerging moments later with her much-loved plushy kangaroo under one arm. Dashing back to her family, she grasped her grandfather's hand one more, and grinned.
"I nearly left Cec on the 'plane!" she gasped, out of breath. "Can we go now? I can't wait to get home!"
And with the balance restored by way of the addition of one plushy toy, they all headed through the shadowed hangar and out into the neat parking lot beyond.
Hardison let out a throaty chuckle of pleasure as he spotted the beast of a double-cab truck in the parking lot, black in colour and brooding menacingly in the low sunshine.
"There's my girl!" he exclaimed and waltzed forward to fling his long body over the front grille. "Bernadette," he crooned softly, "baby! Looks like Soapy's been treatin' you right!"
There was only a slight film of red dust on Bernadette's gleaming livery, and it became obvious that Bernadette, Team Leverage's all-terrain vehicle, had not suffered at all during her stay at Wapanjara.
"Washed and waxed every Sunday morning," Jo chortled, glancing at her unrepentant husband. "Even if all she's done is sit in the barn."
"Well, I promised Alec I'd look after her," Soapy retorted, a slight blush creeping over his lugubrious features. "And anyway, she's paid her way over the past couple of months. Our old ute … well, it's seen far better days and decides not to work more often than not."
But there was an equally big truck sitting beside Bernadette, which led Nate to wander over and have a look, especially since it had the logo 'WAPANJARA CATTLE STATION' emblazoned tastefully on the driver and passenger doors. He frowned, puzzled. It looked familiar, even though he didn't recognise the dark burgundy colour.
Jo eased past him and unlocked the big vehicle.
"Is this yours?" Lizzie breathed as she saw Jo open the rear door. Inside, the seats were spacious and comfortable. The door was solid and heavy, and it was the sturdiness of the door which finally jarred Nate's memory.
"This is Chong's, right?*" he asked, and Soapy grinned.
"It was Chong's," he corrected, and lifted Lizzie into the vehicle where she scrambled along the seat to the far side, settling Cec beside her on the fine leather seat. "When we got Alinjirri's full inventory list there were four of these things sitting in a barn." Soapy ran an affectionate hand over the big truck's fender. "There are two double-cabs and two single. So we got four almost brand-new vehicles as part of the package. Her name's Doris," he added happily.
"She's a beauty," Hardison murmured, distracted for a moment from Bernadette's formidable presence. He studied her build and his team could already see the hacker coming up with ways of making Doris even more useful with his own technological and geeky additions.
"Armoured, by the look of her," Eliot said thoughtfully. He remembered Chong driving down the dirt road in this very truck into Wapanjara's yard, and watching the young triad snakehead doing his best to convince the Munros to sell Wapanjara to him. The vehicle he was now studying had been sand-coloured and intimidating, but now … well, Doris certainly looked the part of a sturdy workhorse for a huge, sprawling cattle station, ready to do her bit to keep the business viable.
While Bernadette was state-of-the-art and formidable in her own right, Doris was specifically built to protect her occupants with bullet-proof glass and reinforced plating. It also made her very heavy, but that didn't matter. Eliot was far happier now that Lizzie was in Doris's safe confines.
As the team split between the two vehicles, Eliot pondered the situation. Gertie and her impending motherhood aside, there was a lot to do over the next couple of months.
The acquisition of what had once been Albany Mining Company and now reverted back to the Warumungu name of Alinjirri, the old cattle station had been purchased with the creation of a second Team Leverage in mind, this time working throughout Australia. Alinjirri was to be its base, as well as being a working cattle station with Soapy, Charlie Jakkamarra and Eliot as its co-owners.
Bringing Alinjirri back into being as a cattle station was taking a lot of work and creative thinking, and part of this working vacation was addressing some of the problems that had arisen, as well as recruiting some members of the new team.
Eliot knew Nate was especially eager to put his various plans into operation, but always at the back of everyone's mind was the ever-present threat of Tomas Ponomarenko.
He brooded on the situation. Right now he felt as though he could reasonably allow himself to rein in his almost pathological worries for Lizzie and his people. Both cattle stations were protected by a security system of which even Homeland Security would be envious, and the addition of the four armoured trucks made the hitter's worries ease a little.
"Eliot? You comin', bro?" Hardison's soft voice interrupted Eliot's ponderings, and he nodded, taking a deep breath so as to help him focus on other, happier things. "Effie'll be wonderin' where the hell we got to, an' I ain't going to take a head-slap for bein' late."
Eliot allowed himself a wry grin. Wapanjara's little cook was very liberal with her affectionate yet sharp cuffs around the ear or a slap on the back of any miscreant's head.
"Yeah, well, she's gotta catch us first, huh," he quipped and then eased into Bernadette's front passenger seat. "Okay, Hardison. Take us home."
And as the shadows lengthened and accompanied by a hearty whoop from Lizzie as she peered through the window so that she could see her beloved outback, Bernadette made her way out of the parking lot. She was followed by Doris, whose stolid bulk made her look like a faithful yet protective pit-bull terrier, and both vehicles and their family headed out onto the great Stuart Highway, turning South towards Wapanjara and home.
The two-hour trip was the final lap of a very, very long journey. After dropping Eliot off at his storage unit just outside the airport, he caught up with them ten minutes later on his old Ducati motorbike, skilfully roaring past the two trucks to take up point, leading this unconventional and rather intimidating convoy into the setting sun as he turned off the highway and onto Wapanjara's red-dirt road.
Just under two hours later they were on the final few miles, Soapy pointing out to Nate the newly-laid single-track road leading off to the west and to Alinjirri, wending its way through stringybarks and acacias, the whole layout understated but well-metalled. It didn't impinge much on the landscape, for which Eliot in particular was most thankful. But it meant Alinjirri was now within reach instead of taking a 12-hour round trip to the place, being only an hour away overland. It was their back door to Team Leverage Australia's base, and while not invisible by any means, the road wasn't easy to spot.
The sun was disappearing below the horizon as Eliot rode the Ducati over the brow of the hill and down, down towards the homestead sitting in its cradle of yards and pens, and even as he made his way past the ancient gum tree which guarded the main gate, he could smell the rich, sultry perfume of Jo's roses and hear the barks of the three heelers as they raced to meet him from the huge old barn which stood guard behind the house.
The veranda lights were already on, casting a warm, welcoming glow, and the door opened to gape golden light from the hallway. A small, dumpy figure stumped onto the veranda to stand, pudgy hands on hips, to watch the two trucks pull into the roomy yard and come to a halt beside the trees and Jo's precious garden.
Eliot turned off the Ducati's engine and put it up on its kick-stand, and removing his helmet he grinned up at the figure on the veranda.
"Hey, Eff," he said, voice gruff with love. "We're home."
Effie McPhee, cook, housekeeper and fierce protector of her family, scowled.
"About bloody time, you cheeky bastard!" she ground out, her muddy eyes glittering in the light. "Dinner's just about ready, and if you don't hurry up and get your Yank arses up here it'll go in the dog!"
Even as she spoke, said small white dog charged out of the house and scooted down the veranda steps to join Eliot, barking madly. He was joined by the heelers who swarmed around Bernadette and Doris, welcoming each and every person who slid wearily from the big vehicles.
But one figure hit the ground running. Lizzie was finally home with the people she loved most in the world and in the place which ruled her heart, and she ran yelling across the yard to be welcomed by Buster, the little white terrier at her heels, bouncing and yapping and so happy to see the missing members of his tribe.
Lizzie scrambled as fast as she could up the veranda steps and piled into Effie so hard the little cook had to sit down on Eliot's recliner in its place beside the door.
Finding herself with an armful of child, Effie wrapped her arms around the little girl and held her as tightly as she dared, Lizzie nuzzling into Effie's chest with a sob of happiness.
"Now then, nipper," Effie rumbled, eyes watery with tears, "it's good to be home, hey?"
"Oh yes, Effie … oh, oh yes …" Lizzie sobbed, and burrowed into Effie even more. "I missed you ever so much!"
"Nah," Effie teased tearily, "surely not!"
Lizzie lifted her head and peered up at Effie's scrunched up face as the little woman dabbled tears from her pudgy cheeks.
"Oh Effie, I did so!" Lizzie insisted, and gave Effie a kiss on the cheek, which made the cook chuckle.
Then the veranda was full of people talking and laughing and telling Effie how hungry they were, and Parker wrapped her arms around Effie's head, the only bit of her not dealing with an ecstatic Elizabeth Grace Ford. A kiss was landed on Effie's grey hair.
"We're home, Effie!" Parker whispered. "For Christmas!"
And Effie McPhee, never one for showing anyone how much she cared, twisted her face into what she thought was a smile and couldn't be happier.
The new bedrooms weren't large but they were comfortable. Each had a window and a door that led out onto the new veranda extension which now ran along the entire left side of the house. Gertie had lost a section of her paddock and she couldn't stick her nose through Eliot's open window any more, but she could easily rest her head on the edge of the veranda opposite Eliot's new door to his room. Eliot could still sit outside in the night air and relax with Gertie's head beside him. She even had her own window in the veranda so that she could whiffle at whatever part of Eliot was within reach.
The veranda was adorned with even more comfy old chairs and a second swing seat dotted with home-made cushions. Lights were hung along the eaves, and the whole of this new extension of Wapanjara was instantly welcoming, warm and homely.
Lizzie opened the door to her room and squeaked with delight. She had a nice, big bed with a night stand, and a roomy, well-padded chair beside the door to the veranda. There was no other furniture as yet, but there were several mysterious, large, long cardboard boxes stacked against the corner. Lizzie dumped her case on her bed and tucked Cec under the comforter to keep him warm, and then she peeked into the 'jack-and-jill' bathroom which she shared with her next-door neighbour, who happened to be Eliot. She grinned at the bottle of very expensive tea-tree shampoo on the highest shelf in the bathroom. Eliot was very protective of his shampoo.
She heard Effie's bawl telling everyone dinner was ready, and chiding Cec to behave himself she dashed from her new room, clattered along the extended corridor and peered through the open doorway of Eliot's room.
"Dinner!" she yelled, and with a "Dammit, 'Lizbeth Grace, I ain't deaf!" echoing in her ears she gleefully continued her way past the kitchen and living room and out onto the veranda.
"LIZZIE!"
And there, rushing towards her with his arms wide, was her dear friend Kip Jakkamarra, blond-dark curls bouncing as he and Lizzie hugged each other as though they hadn't seen each other in years instead of a couple of months.
The little boy began to chatter about Sparky and Batu, his big gelding, and how Gertie was really fat but that was okay because she was having a babbie, and the two children sat down on the swing seat as Kip's father Charlie arose from his seat to hold out a hand to Eliot as the American emerged from the house.
The two men, brothers in every way but blood, clasped forearms.
"Welcome home, Eliot Spencer of the Aniwaya," Charlie grinned, his dark eyes luminous with pleasure.
"It's good to be home, Charlie Jakkamarra of the Warumungu," Eliot replied, glad to see the softness in the young widower's face. Charlie's beloved wife Alice had died … had been murdered … only months before by Chong Bun Tsui and his associates. She had been revenged and Alice's spirit now walked the Dreaming, but Charlie and Kip were far from recovered from her loss. But Eliot knew Lizzie's presence would help Kip as the two were best friends.
The gurgle of a baby made Eliot turn around and there was Mei Munro, Soapy and Jo's adopted daughter, her own infant daughter Rose in her arms. Soapy stood beside her holding little Jamie, Rose's twin, and it was Jamie who had let out a chortle as his grandfather tickled him.
"There's my darlin'!" Hardison crooned at Rose as he emerged from the house and beamed at Mei even as he held his arms out to take the baby. "Hey girl!" he said to Mei and bent over to kiss her cheek, "It's so good to see you!"
Mei beamed so widely that her cheeks pouted and she offered Rose to the tall hacker, who took the smiling baby in his arms. Jamie waved a hand at Hardison and gave him a gummy grin.
"Look at 'em, Soapy!" Hardison said with wonder in his voice, "they're gettin' so big! Jamie's almost caught up with his sis!"
At just over three months old, the twins had been very small when they were born, Mei being undernourished and the babies premature. But with love and care they had obviously thrived, and now were chubby, happy little souls surrounded by a family who adored them.
Tucking Rose tenderly into his left arm and holding her snugly against his chest, Hardison reached out and tickled Jamie, who shrieked with delight.
"Yeah, little brother," Hardison whispered, "I hear ya. You an' Rose an' me … we're gonna have a cool time while I'm home. I promise."
Mei stood on tiptoes and whispered into Hardison's ear.
"I'm so happy, Alec. And it's all because of you. Thank you."
Hardison had made sure that Mei and her children were Australians, members of the Munro family and finally severing Mei's link to mainland China, sold by her father when she was fifteen to Chong Bun Tsui in lieu of a debt. The snakehead had fathered her children but he had never seen them. Eliot had seen to that. Now she was free, had a new family which adored her and her children, and their lives were now in Australia.
"No problem, Mei," Hardison said earnestly. "You deserve happiness, girl. You an' these two lil' pipsqueaks!" He leaned down and pressed a kiss against Rose's downy head.
"Righto, you lot!" Effie groused as she hobbled through from the kitchen carrying plates and utensils, Charlie bringing up the rear with more dishes. "Dinner! Sit! Eat!"
And as the fireflies flared in the darkness beyond the veranda, the table was laden with steaming piles of fragrant rice and richly herbed roasted vegetables. A tagine Eliot had brought back from a job in Marrakesh some years before now sat resplendently in the centre, filled with delicious spicy chicken in a sauce made with Jo's home-grown tomatoes and sweet with apricots and sultry spices. A plate covered in a cloth was found to contain a pile of warm khubz, the flatbread ready to be torn into pieces and dipped in the sauce. There were dishes of salad and humous and delicate, spicy couscous, redolent with garlic, and everything was washed down with cold beers and fruit juice for the children.
The aromas of the Middle East drifted through the air and mingled with the scent of roses and jasmine, and the soft light of the veranda shone on happy, relaxed people in old, over-stuffed chairs, chatting and laughing and eating food from small tables. Lizzie and Kip sat on the floor next to Eliot and giggled as they ate, talking with their mouths full and sneaking morsels of chicken to Buster and the heelers, the dogs allowed onto the veranda for once.
This was finger food, something the children in particular loved, and Eliot sat happily in his old recliner and began, oh so slowly, to relax. He had his people all around him and within his circle of protection.
Ponomarenko.
His name rankled, Eliot knew, and no matter what he did, the man's threat was always at the forefront of Eliot's concerns. He watched Lizzie and Kip, the two children sitting cross-legged at his feet stuffing their faces with Effie's magnificent food, and was glad that the little girl he loved didn't know that the man had threatened her.
But here at Wapanjara, with distance and remoteness and Hardison's top-notch security system on their side, she would be safer than anywhere else. He had a trip to Alice Springs in a few days to deal with, but now they had Doris he worried less. And, he sighed mentally, there was Gertie. That was a whole new worry which he hadn't figured into his plan. Gertie was going to have a baby. Dammit.
He sat and thought about Gertie for a while as the ebb and flow of conversation washed around him, but it was as he finished his plateful of Mei's deliciously light muhalabieh dessert that he finally spoke.
"Soapy … is, ah … is Gertie in the South paddock?" he asked quietly as Hardison and Parker played peek-a-boo with the twins and Nate poured freshly made coffee for Sophie as she rocked gently on the swing-seat.
Soapy ate his final mouthful of the scrumptious milky dessert laced with rosewater and pistachios and sighed, patting his stomach.
"Nah. I didn't want her outside, boy, seeing as this is her first calf. I put her in the foaling box in the barn at night so we can keep an eye on her." He cocked an eyebrow at Eliot. "You shouldn't worry so much, Eliot. She's doing really well, I promise."
Charlie sipped his beer and studied his friend. Eliot looked the picture of a fretting mother hen.
"Rey was out a few days ago and we had Gertie checked over because we knew you'd be worried, and she said the old girl's fine. So no worries, mate. Okay?"
Eliot's brows drew down as he thought about it. Rey Bianchi, the veterinarian from Tennant Creek, was someone he trusted implicitly, but it still didn't quell the uncertainty in his heart.
"Thanks for that, Charlie, but …" he sighed and hoisted himself to his feet. Although he, like the rest of the team, was exhausted, he wouldn't rest properly until he had seen Gertie for himself. "Gonna go check the big moron. See how she's doin'. Maybe sit with her for a while. And no, 'Lizbeth Grace, you can't come with. You have to help clear dishes, darlin' –"
"I can bloody manage, you mongrel!" Effie growled, delighted that everyone had enjoyed the meal she and Mei had prepared for the homecoming, "Clever Clogs and Sunbeam can wash and Missy and the Duchess can dry, and the Princess an' me'll put away. The Missus and Mister M'll look after the babbies. See? Sorted."
Lizzie and Kip bounced to their feet and gazed up at Eliot who groaned helplessly and glared at Effie, her eyes glinting with mischief. The children jammed on their hats and declared themselves ready for anything.
"Okay, okay. You can come," he groused, "both of you. But be quiet, y'hear? I don't want Gertie stressed out or upset or … or …" he looked around at the smirks and grins of people enjoying an Eliot Spencer dealing with something outside his comfort zone. "Bastards!" he muttered under his breath, and narrowing his eyes in disgust, he clumped down the veranda steps with two happy children and a small white dog in tow, and cursing to himself he headed off around the side of the house and up the incline towards the barn, hands jammed in his jeans pockets and shoulders hunched, every line of his sturdy frame tense with frustration.
Nate finished his coffee and watched Eliot and his little entourage disappear into the darkness, the two children giggling and chattering as they followed the irate hitter.
"How long do we wait?" he asked no-one in particular.
"Oh … give him fifteen minutes, maybe?" Parker pondered. "If we hurry up we can get the dishes done before we … y'know … go look."
Charlie stood up and stretched.
"Well, I have to go check on the mares before bed-time anyway, so I could use some help giving them their last feed."
"Man, we can do that!" Hardison said as he dandled little Jamie on his knee, the child smiling benignly at the hacker. "But I wouldn't be in Gertie's shoes," he added, "figuratively speakin'."
Mei finished giving Rose her evening bottle of milk and frowned, puzzled.
"Why? Is the Cowboy angry with her?"
Hardison grinned.
"Well think about it!" he said cheerily, "his girl went off, had a one-night-stand an' came home pregnant? He's an outraged Poppa, that's what he is! An' I ain't goin' to miss this for the world!"
Eliot trudged past the cattle yards and the horse paddock where half a dozen mares and foals stood by the gate awaiting their suppers. He heard Lizzie let out a shriek of delight as one of the foals called out to the children as the exterior lights from the barn lit up the paddock.
"SPARKY!" she yelled and ran to the gate, the colt peering at her through the heavy bars. Kip hurried after her and Eliot had to smile as he heard the two children begin to fuss Sparky as he lipped at her through the gate. Lizzie hadn't seen her colt in person for a couple of months, although Kip had taken his laptop out to the paddock as often as he could so that Lizzie could see the youngster's progress via video-call as his foal fluff fell out and he turned from bay to a dark grey.
At least, Eliot thought, the children would be occupied for a little while and he could check Gertie without an audience.
Walking through the open barn to the big foaling box, he was glad that Charlie had left the light on over the box, and he could hear a soft, rhythmic chewing and occasional burp as Gertie swallowed and then regurgitated her cud. The sound made Eliot's stress levels ratchet down a couple of levels. If the huge camel was cudding then she was happy and content.
The box was just a large enclosed space which took up a corner of the barn. The upper third of the wooden walls were fitted with grilles so that the occupant could be quietly watched, and Eliot could see a pair of ears, one with a scarred hole through it, flicking contemplatively as Gertie ruminated on life.
Not wanting to startle her, he let out a low, soft whistle, and the ears suddenly pricked and their owner let out a happy gurk. Gertie heaved herself to her feet, rumbling and squeaking with delight, and she swung around to face Eliot as he opened the door to the big stable.
"Hey, darlin' –" he crooned, but as he stepped into the box he was suddenly swamped by breathy, stinky huffs, slurpy licks and camel-kisses, Gertie mumbling at his nose and chin and checking his pockets, telling Eliot how much she had missed him and still loved him. She let out a barrage of ridiculous, high-pitched squeaks and Eliot had to fend her off while trying to wipe saliva from his hair and face.
"Dammit, Gertie … stop, will ya! Gimmee a break here - " he spluttered, but Gertie ignored him because she was too happy to see her best friend. He managed to take a step back and catch her bosal, rubbing her velvet muzzle as he whispered nonsense to her. Gertie gazed at him through impossibly long eyelashes and licked his hand, telling him he was loved.
"Okay, you fool, let's have a look at you," he rumbled affectionately, and Gertie obligingly stood still as Eliot let go of her bosal and began to check her over.
She was pregnant, there was no denying it. But she wasn't as rounded as he had expected, and she bulged slightly more on one side than the other. He ran a hand down her flank, which made her skin twitch and she gurgled to herself as though giggling. Eliot's fingers scratched the wiry curls on her belly and then had a quick peek underneath.
"Wow!" he rasped, and his eyebrows hitched. He bent over to get a better look. Gertie's udder was full and tight, and her teats were turgid. "You ain't got long to go, huh," he told Gertie, who swung her head around to see what he was doing. She tried to peer past him but she couldn't see, so she nipped him very gently on the backside to make him move.
"Ow!" he groused, and straightened, "what the hell was that for?" he demanded, and rubbed the assaulted buttock. Gertie pricked her ears and looked surprised. "Don't give me that look, you idiot!" Eliot continued, "you got yourself into this!"
Gertie yawned in Eliot's face, yellow teeth bared, and then chomped, licking her lips before sticking her tongue out at Eliot, who scowled.
Eliot poked Gertie in the neck.
"You an' me … we're gonna have a little talk," he said. "Right now."
Gertie flapped her bottom lip at her best friend, once more showering him with saliva. Eliot cursed softly, and then wiped his face with his shirt sleeve. He turned and settled his tired frame on one of the big straw bales placed in each corner of the box to prevent Gertie becoming jammed when she went into labour. Gertie reached out and lipped at his nose, but Eliot carefully pushed her head away and kooshed her down. She laboriously folded her legs and lowered her massive bulk in the deep straw, shifting incrementally to accommodate her belly which bulged out a little. She burbled happily and gazed at Eliot.
Eliot glared back. He prodded her nose with a forefinger to check that she was paying attention, and prepared himself.
"Now, you moron, you listen to me!" he growled, and Gertie blinked. Eliot's temper was not at its best, so he took a few deep breaths before facing the inevitability of Gertie's situation. Gertie waited patiently, watching Eliot's every move. He was obviously going to tell her repeatedly how much he loved her. She pursed her lips and sighed.
"Don't you try'n go all innocent on me, young lady!" Eliot snapped, and scowled at the camel. "Just … just what the hell d'you think you were doin', huh?" he demanded, giving Gertie a Death Glare. She stared at him fondly. "You don't go wandering off, Gertie!" he continued, getting into the swing of things, "I … I know you kinda … well … had the urge, but …" he tailed off for a moment, suddenly uncomfortable. "Look … I know you girl camels go lookin' for … um … boy camels …" for some reason which he couldn't account for, Eliot felt his ears redden in embarrassment. He let out a long breath, trying to steady himself. This was getting stupid. "Okay … okay … listen, Gertie."
Gertie hummed and mumbled at Eliot's fingers.
"You were feelin' in the mood," Eliot said finally, "an' … an' I get that. I really do. But … Jacko said the bull was a helluva big bastard, Gertie! And I know you ain't exactly small, but … bull camels, they can get … well, they can get nasty when they're in musth, and – " he paused and rubbed the woolly bit between Gertie's ears. Gertie squeaked with delight. "You coulda got hurt, you dumbass!" he finished, a note of desperation in every word.
Gertie snorted. As if that could have happened. She knew how to look after herself.
"That ain't the point!" Eliot insisted, and waggled a finger at the unrepentant camel. "And another thing!" he continued, now on a roll, "have you any idea how much trouble you're in? Huh? Havin' a baby at your age? You have no idea what you've let yourself in for, do you?"
Gertie seemed very content and not in the least worried.
"Just 'cause you feel like a bit of fun, off you go and get yourself knocked up, you dumbass! It's a good job the poppa camel's dead 'cause if he wasn't he'd be lookin' at the wrong end of a thirty-ought-six right now, and don't think just because I don't like guns I wouldn't have ended his sorry ass!"
Gertie stared at Eliot and flicked an ear.
Eliot nodded.
"Damn right!" he finished, and settled back on the bale, feeling happier now that Gertie understood she had stepped over the line. Gertie laid her head on Eliot's lap and he gave her a noogie, his sense of paternal responsibility satisfied for now.
The two friends sat quietly for a few minutes, and Eliot was on the point of getting Gertie some feed when he saw something that made his breath hitch in wonder.
Something pushed outwards along Gertie's lower side, a slow, gentle line moving under the brown hide, and Eliot leaned forward to rest his hand over Gertie's belly. It was a foot, he was sure. The calf was alive and well and kicking, and right at that moment Eliot knew he couldn't wait to see Gertie with her baby.
Somebody giggled.
Turning around, he saw his entire team and family peering in through the open doorway and Lizzie and Kip were hanging on Eliot's every word. Hardison grinned like a Cheshire cat and had his cell 'phone aimed at Eliot. He had obviously recorded the entire 'discussion'.
The snarl Eliot gave out would have been worthy of a grizzly bear. He eased Gertie's head off his lap and she grumbled and tugged at his sleeve, but Eliot ignored her.
"I swear to God, Hardison," he hissed, eyes sparking with fury, "if you show anyone a second of this I'll cut off every one of your frikkin' fingers an' poke your eyes out with 'em –"
Hardison's smile widened and somebody sniggered at the back. Eliot was sure it was Nate.
"Dang, Eliot!" Hardison crowed. "watchin' you give Gertie 'The Talk' … it's gold, man! Absolute gold, you ol' Poppa Bear!"
Afterwards, Hardison would tell everyone who would listen that he had never heard "Dammit, Hardison!" said with such lethal intent, and he then knew he was in trouble.
To be continued …
* To find out about Chong, read 'Gertie – The Outback Job'.