Bow River

A/N - Hello! Been a while since I wrote a simple brother / sister romance. One of the main theme's for most of the stories I've written for a sibling romance is something along the lines of 'absence makes the heart grow fonder'. This might also have a similar theme or two to a couple of other stories I've written, but it will be different enough. Some of the plot is also a nod and a wink to a couple of my favourite characters in literature.

I was in two minds whether to have one or two sisters, much like my story 'Double Trouble'. But this won't be any sort of harem story, such as also involving a mother, aunts or cousins. Sister or sisters at most, I hadn't quite decided when starting to write this.

There is a little bit of back story until things really kick into high gear. I didn't want to write another long series like 'The Marine' so, if you can be patient, I'm hoping the pay-off at the end will be worth it. Any sort of 'action' is complete fantasy, won't be too in depth, and a further nod to the cheap novels that are prevalent on certain websites nowadays (looking at you, Amazon). Might have to not think too critically about it.

Usual caveats. All editing and reviewing done by the author with Microsoft Word. Spelling is usually spot on. Australian / British standard English. Definitely the occasional typo. Grammar can be ropey at times, but it's been a long time since I sat in a classroom. All mistakes owned up to by the author. Please remember this is just fantasy and I'm an amateur.

Comments and feedback appreciated as always.

Just one extra note compared to usual - this is my 150 ^th story uploaded. Thanks to everyone who has added me as a favourite author or has one of my stories on their favourites list, left a comment or sent an email as feedback, or simply takes the time to read one of my stories. It's all appreciated.

*****

Listen now to the wind, babe

Listen now to the rain

I feel that water

Lickin' at my feet again

I don't wanna see this town no more

Wastin' my days on a factory floor

The first thing you know

I'll be back in Bow River again

- 'Bow River', Cold Chisel

*****

Despite what many people think, most Australians don't live in what is commonly known as 'the outback'. The vast majority of the population lives on or near the coast in the towns and cities that are dotted along the coastline. Even fewer of us live on farms, and those of us that do, well, life is one of continuous grind and struggle. My parents own a farm. Been in the family for a few generations now. Started out with sheep and cattle. Sheep for wool, cattle for beef. Still focusing on that though, thanks to global trends, and the rising cost of nearly everything, they've had to diversify into all sorts of other ventures. Most make little profit.

Farmers are bent over and figuratively fucked by everyone.

I might have grown up on a farm, but I had no interest in continuing the family legacy. Pissed my father off something fierce when I told him I wouldn't be quitting school at sixteen to start full-time work on the farm. Threatened to kick me out more than once though Mum had my back and said that wouldn't happen. I wanted to complete high school, at the least. I knew university was unlikely. Very few scholarships are on offer, and I'd never obtain the marks necessary to get into a decent one. Other than that, I simply couldn't afford to leave home.

That meant I was stuck in Bow River for the foreseeable future. One of those country towns found throughout outback Australia. No more than a couple of thousand residents at most. The town was named after the river that ran through it, running all the way to the eastern coast, pouring out into the Pacific Ocean. The main highway running Melbourne to Darwin ran through our town. On the edge of town north and south were a number of hotels were drivers could lay their heads for an evening.

Otherwise, there were the usual sights. More pubs than anything else. Turning eighteen was always a rite of passage, the requirement being to drink a schooner in each pub. That always meant a messy ending to any evening. There was also the post office. The town hall. A cop shop and rural fire station. A couple of government offices. A medium sized supermarket. A collection of smaller stores along the main street. A butcher. A bakery. Not a candlestick maker though. And as it was countryside Australia, each house was still resting on the quarter acre block.

Our farm was a few kilometres west of Bow River. The town was large enough to have both a primary and high school, as kids from the smaller towns in the region would be bussed in to attend. If I'd wanted to attend any sort of college, I would have been looking at a two-hundred-kilometre round trip at minimum. Anyone leaving Bow River at the end of their time at high school hoping for further education very rarely returned for anything more than the occasional visit.

Opportunities were few and far between in a country town. You either worked on a farm, you worked in the mines, or you worked in a factory or manufacturing plant.

It kicked off big time one evening. I'd been working the farm for no more than a couple of months and simply realised it wasn't for me. I wasn't my father and two uncles, slaving away from dawn until dusk for what seemed like next to no reward. It was me, my father, mother and baby sister at the dinner table when I made my announcement.

"I'm joining the army," I stated.

Mum gasped. My father lowered his cutlery and glared at me across the table. "You what?"

"I said I'm joining the army, Dad. I've already spoken to a recruiter on the phone. They want me in Sydney by next week to go through various tests before I join up officially."

"And you never thought to ask us?"

Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I made sure I met his eyes. "I'm eighteen and don't need your permission in regard to what I want to do with my life."

"What about the farm? What about your family?"

"The farm isn't my problem, and I would have assumed that my family would support my decision."

He slammed his palm on the table. "What do you mean that this farm isn't your problem?"

"I've told you for years I have no interest in taking over. It's not my dream to be a farmer, it's your dream."

He stood up and glared at me. Three years earlier, I'd have found him intimidating. Six foot tall. Broad shouldered from years of backbreaking work had left him with thick arms and a muscular frame. But I'd grown just as much through puberty. Now an inch taller than him and, in addition to work on the farm, I'd also attended the only gym in town each afternoon for the past couple of years. I had youth and enthusiasm, he had age and experience.

It would be interesting if we ever came to blows.

I met his eyes and forked another piece of meat into my mouth. "If you leave, consider yourself disowned." It wasn't a threat. I knew he meant every word.

"Not much of a threat when I don't want the farm anyway."

He smirked. "You don't even know how much this farm is worth and what other businesses I'm operating."

Shrugging, I chewed on another piece of meat. "I don't really care. You've just threatened to disown me because I won't carry on with your fucking legacy." Mum gasped again, not used to hearing her only son use such language. My little sister giggled in her highchair as she didn't understand what was going on. "If that's the way it's going to be, don't worry about it. I'll be out of your hair as soon as possible."

"Wait, Jack. We haven't discussed..."

"Quiet, Diane. I'm not having our son here throwing all we've given him back in our face."

"I'm not throwing anything back in your face. Fact is, Dad, there is more to life than this farm. More to life than Bow River. I'm not going to spend my life stuck in the near vicinity of this town and farm. There's a whole wide world out there and I'm going to try and see at least some of it. You can either support my decision or, well, you can follow through on your threat to disown me. Either way, I'm leaving, and more importantly, you can't stop me."

Dad looked ready to say something before he realised that I was right. I was eighteen. I'd graduated high school. I could walk out then and there with a bag and that would be it. Dad wiped his mouth and threw the napkin down, walking away before we probably came to blows. Mum dabbed her eyes with a tissue, leaning forward to take her hand.

"I thought you might have mentioned it, Mum."

"He won't listen, Mark. You should know your father by now. He expects you to do his bidding with no argument, just like he did with his father."

"Well, I'm not my father." Standing up, I wiped my mouth before leaning over to hug my mother, kissing her cheek. "I'm sorry, but I need to do this."

"I know," she whispered. "You know your father won't come around. He'll follow through on his threat. He'll... He'll make sure you're..."

Lowering myself to my knees, Mum turned her chair and hugged me tightly. "Love you, Mum," I whispered, "But I think I'd best leave as soon as possible now. A friend in town has offered to drive me to the nearest train station. There's a couple a day heading towards Sydney."

Heading to my bedroom, I'd been slowly preparing for this day as I wasn't stupid. I knew my father well and he was never going to support me doing anything except working on the farm. Most of the clothes I'd figured I'd need were already in my backpack. Apart from a couple of electronics, I was just about ready to go.

I didn't see Dad the rest of the night. Mum did come into my room before she went to bed, giving her another long hug. She brought in my baby sister so I could hug and kiss her too. I knew what Mum was doing. She assumed I'd be up and gone once Dad was up and outside to take care of the morning chores.

"You know I'd love you to stay, Mark," Mum murmured into my chest.

"I know. I'll miss you, Mum."

"You're my little boy. Always will be. Just stay safe for me."

"I'll leave you my email address. I'm figuring Dad..."

"Live your life, Mark. Just don't forget us back here."

Waking the next morning, there was no sign of my father. My two uncles did pass through when they arrived. They grunted in my direction. As they were usually friendlier, I knew my father would have been in their ear about me. I was polite but ignored their attitude. After that morning, I wouldn't be seeing them again anytime soon.

Kissing Mum on the cheek in thanks for breakfast, I returned to my room, had a shower and changed, before packing my bags and carrying them out to my ute. Mum followed me outside, carrying my little sister. Mum was already crying. My little sister didn't really understand what was going on.

"Are you sure you need to go right now?" Mum asked. I knew she wouldn't try and change my mind.

"I'm sure, Mum. I can't stay here. I need to do something with my life. Something more than this. And if he wants to disown me, then so be it. His love was always conditional if that's how he's going to treat me."

I hugged them both tightly, Mum breaking down in tears. Resting her head against my chest, I tickled my little sister, earning a squeal and a giggle, before I kissed my mother a final time.

"I love you, Mark. Please come home soon."

"Love you too, Mum."

But I didn't make a promise to be anytime soon. I knew, as soon as I drove through that gate and turned towards Bow River itself, my father wouldn't allow me back. I knew what he was like. Guess I was a bit like him though. Completely and utterly stubborn, not willing to give an inch.

Sitting behind the wheel of my ute, the window was already down, Mum walking over, leaving one last kiss on my cheek. "Bye, Mum," I said softly. She didn't manage a reply, leaning in and giving me one last hug and kiss on the cheek. "I'll be back one day."

With that, she stepped back as I changed gear and pulled away. I kept my eye on the rear-view mirror as I followed the track to the gate. The dust kicked up eventually meant I couldn't see them after a couple of hundred metres. Pulling onto the road, I slowed down and took one last look at the farm, the place I'd spent all eighteen years of my life growing up.

The only thing that saddened me was leaving behind my mother and knowing I wouldn't see my little sister grow up. But I knew I couldn't stay a day longer.

My best friend was waiting for me in town. I was giving him my ute as there wasn't any point keeping it in my name once I was gone. The nearest town or city with a train station was a couple of hundred kilometres away, so once he was next to me, we were on our way. Listening to tunes, we also talked about what I was doing. I let him know what happened the previous night, what my father had told me. He wasn't surprised to hear about that, aware that the relationship between my father and myself had slowly deteriorated over the last couple of years. He just never took what I said seriously.

We shared a last beer together before we shook hands and he drove away in what was now his ute while I waited for the train that would take me to Sydney. It was only when boarding the XPT and taking my assigned seat did I get that first sense of being alone. If I knew my father well, he'd make sure I was cut-off. Only a couple of close friends had remained in Bow River. Most had taken the opportunity to escape to university or simply to find better employment elsewhere by heading to the coast.

Joining the new recruits a couple of weeks later at 1^st Recruit Training Battalion Kapooka, located just outside Wagga Wagga, what followed was eighty days of intense basic training. Rising early, going to bed late, seven days a week. No rest for the wicked. I knew within a week that I'd made the right choice. I loved every second, pushed to the limits and beyond every single day.

I didn't bother trying to keep in contact with family while I was training, but when trying to contact at least my mother about the March Out Parade, I learned rather quickly my father kept his word. Tried calling my mother, number no longer in service. Tried calling my father, number no longer in service. Same for my uncles. Grandparents on both sides were already dead. When I called my best friend, he'd been told that I wasn't to try and contact anyone. He was sorry, but my father had apparently spread word that I'd left for reasons other than joining the army.

In other words, he'd made sure my name was mud in the eyes and ears of everyone I knew.

Trying to email didn't work either. I sent a message to any email address I could remember, whether for my mother, father or business. All of them were no longer functioning. I smiled to myself as I realised that he'd properly disowned me. "Well done, old man," I muttered, "Well fucking done."

Watching all the other recruits mingling with their families didn't bother me much. Instead, I obtained leave, my orders in my pocket about where I was assigned, deciding to fuck off to Sydney for a couple of nights before I was required to arrive at my assigned barracks. Being a country boy and army recruit certainly gained me some attention from women as I took in the sights of the city. Got laid both nights. No, I wasn't a virgin when I arrived in Sydney. I'd had one or two steady girlfriends through high school, and young men and women who have little to do find other ways of occupying themselves. Such as by having sex...

I was assigned to 7^th Brigade, 6^th Battalion (6 RAR), 'D' Rifle Company of the Royal Australian Regiment, which is a mechanised infantry battalion, based out of Gallipoli Barracks, also known as Enoggera Barracks, the suburb in which the battalion is garrisoned in north-western Brisbane. I threw myself into the role as, well, I had little else going on in my life. I found a comradery with my fellow soldiers that certainly fulfilled at least part of the emptiness left by the fact I had no contact with my family.

Being an infantry unit, and the state of the world after 9/11, I wasn't surprised when we were soon being deployed around the world. One tour of Iraq. One tour of Afghanistan. Peacekeeping roles on a Pacific Island or two. The first few years just seemed to fly by. With each deployment came a promotion in rank. Starting out as a private, I rose through the ranks of lance corporal and corporal before I was a sergeant, and to be honest, I was happy to remain at that rank and continue serving until it was time for me to retire.

My life changed for the second time after around eight years of service. By then, I was living off-base, having bought myself a small apartment only a short drive away. I could have remained living in barracks, but I wanted at least a little independence. Plus, it made getting laid far easier. Can't take women back to barracks. Can take them back to my own apartment. Most of my fellow soldiers now had families or at least long-term relationships. I was single and relatively happy to keep it that way. I didn't really talk about my family back home. Most knew enough that something must have happened.

It was a Sunday morning when I was taken aback by the intercom buzzing. I rarely had visitors. Most women only returned a few times before they realised that I wasn't looking for anything serious. The only friends I had were in my regiment. I hadn't tried contacting my family in years and none of them would have had a clue where I was.

"Who is it?" I asked.

"My name is Major James Stewart. Is this the residence of Sergeant Mark Mason?"

"Aye, it is, sir. Let me buzz you up."

A couple of minutes later, I met a man in dressed in civilian clothing, with a briefcase in hand, but I recognised a soldier. It's all how they walked, talk, stand, their entire bearing. Escorting him inside, I offered him a coffee as he sat down on one of the armchairs. Coffee in hand when it was ready, I sat on the far end of the couch, wondering who this man was and what he wanted.

"American?"

He nodded. "United States Marines. Twelve years of service. Retired."

"What's a retired U.S Marine doing here in my apartment? Respectfully, sir."

Different countries. Different branches. But he was still a superior officer and therefore respect was expected and given.

Opening his briefcase, he pulled out a manila folder, resting it on the coffee table. Opening it up, I recognised the paperwork. Some of it was of my personnel file, but I wouldn't be surprised if he knew everything about me.

"I'll be honest from the start, Mark."

"Mason, sir. Everyone calls me Mason nowadays."

He nodded. "Very well. Before I start, what I'm about to tell you is strictly confidential. You understand what I mean, soldier?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now, I have your service records. You've served with the Australian Army for the past eight years, give or take a month or two."

"Correct, sir."

"Looking at your record, it's exemplary. Commendations and citations. Clean service record otherwise. Says you've been offered promotion twice to warrant officer but turned it down. Any reason why?"

"I'm happy as a sergeant, sir. The only move I would consider would be a sideways move into a different corps. Always wondered about getting involved in engineering. Maybe artillery. You know, just blow that shit up over there instead of sending in the men with guns."

"What about if I were to offer you something completely different? It would mean leaving the Australian Army, but the offer will mean earning plenty more dollars, see a lot more of the world, and you will help deal with numerous problems around the globe."

I gave it about five seconds thought. "Go on, sir."