At three fourteen PM on Monday, one little raindrop wound its way down from the heavens. It landed on the brim of Hector Dupree's bush ranger hat completely unnoticed. Perhaps its lackluster arrival angered the rain gods a bit but more than likely it was one of those freak storms that came once in a lifetime, the kind grandpa would talk about over Sunday tucker.

The low winter rainfall dampened by cooling breezes and moderate daytime temperatures  had finally given way to the rains of seasonal change in the southern hemisphere and the rise in the creek would allow Hector to irrigate his part of the field with flood-rich waters from an offshoot creek of the Orara River. The rest of the vineyard used a drip and sub-surface irrigation system but the natural floodwaters carried nutrients to the vines Hector tended for himself. He'd built a series of small gates to open when the need to irrigate came.

Over time and effort he'd developed his own grape, a rare bronze mutation of Cabernet Sauvignon called a Malian which he developed into a limited number of bottles each year, so limited that his few hectares of field produced a profit three fold the entire vineyard. Mara's father felt he owed it to Hector; he didn't keep tabs on what he did with the land he gave him. Hector worked Le Griffon's fields without any other compensation in exchange for his land and the freedom to do what he wanted with it.

So why didn't he bail the estate out of the red when push came to shove? Hector Dupree had not managed to save very much of the money he made. He had a son in college in the states, an ex-wife on the west coast and he was not savvy with his investments. Too bad he couldn't shake hands with Max Skinner, too bad he didn't meet him ten years earlier.

It was four thirty PM and the rain was falling steadily now. The massive rogue system had stalled over Queensland, feeding off the warm Pacific and belching its intake over the red earth along the Orara River. By midnight the flood warnings were up.

Max stood with Mara on the back veranda watching Jack lead the soaking wet horses into the barn.

"Have you listened to the reports, love?"

"Yeah, they're saying it’s not going to stop any too soon. Don't reckon I've ever seen anything like this."

A clap of thunder sounded on the heels of a flash and the gelding Jack led started and reared. He broke free from the young man's grasp and bolted away, galloping past the veranda in mud-slung fear and fury. Mara leapt from the low porch to try to stop the marauding horse to no avail.

"Let him go!" Max called as he jumped down after her. He knew nowt from owt about horses but he wasn't about to stand by and watch her trampled.

Mara tugged away from him. "He's my dad's horse. Christ's sake he'll break his neck in this."

Jack rushed up to them with another lead in his hand. "I'll find him, Miss. No worries. The daft beast panicked."

Rain drenched the three of them and they had to shout over the sound of it as it pelted the tin roof of the barn. Mara struggled. Was it worth the risk to go after the animal? It wasn't just any horse, it was her dad’s horse, the one he rode the day of the accident. "I'll go with you, Jack. Saddle the sorrel and the bay. I'll go get dressed." She turned to go in the house but Max grabbed her. He held her upper arms and brought her close.

"I can't let you do this, Mara. Let Jack go after him."

"I have to go with him. He can't do it alone. It will take two of us to round him up."

"Miss ..."Jack interrupted "He's right. I can fetch the horse. Please."

"Jack, just go get ready, mate. Remember who the boss is here."

His last check was signed by Max Skinner but Jack wanted no part of the argument. He nodded, releasing a puddle of water from the brim of his hat. Jack strode off to prepare both mounts, glancing back once or twice along the way.

Mara eased from Max’s grip and she turned to march into the house. She grabbed her oil skin coat from the mud room as she walked by and threw it over the back of a kitchen chair. Max followed her through the house as she went upstairs to change.

"Mara, please."

"I'll be all right. Max, I have to go."

No matter how much he protested she continued on. They finally ended in the kitchen with him trying to dry her hair as she slipped into the drover’s coat. "You'd do better to put some tea on. Reckon I'll need it when I get back."

"There's nothing I can say to stop you, then?"

She shook her head but smiled appreciatively. "I know you care."

"Too right, love." He swiped her cheek with the towel one more time before placing a tender kiss on her mouth. A rap on the back door broke them apart as Jack entered holding his hat in his hand.

"Sorry, but it's best we get going now. It’s dark enough from the storm without worrying for the night coming."

Mara placed her hat on her head and gave Max a last look before she turned to follow Jack outside. The heavens were pissing down with a vengeance and thunder rumbled in the distance, keeping the horses which Jack had saddled on edge. Snorting and shifting from foot to foot, both of them conveyed their instinctive fears. The odd red color of the sky bathed everything in a crimson hue almost as if an amber lens had been placed on the entire picture and as Max followed them out he couldn't help but think of the levels of Dante's inferno. Is this what greed and corruption has brought? He thought he'd put all of it behind him but was he still destined to pay for his past? He watched Mara mount the bay horse and it tossed its head as the storm rumbled.

"A heavy thunder breaks the deep lethargy within your head..." Max spoke to himself as the pair rode off.

Tracking the black gelding was not an option. The soaked red earth swallowed hoof prints the moment they were made and before too long there was no more earth, just a flowing river of silt-laden water filled with the broken backs of Le Griffon's grape vines.

Jack and Mara found the horse, buried up to his flanks in the spillover from the creek. Hector already had a rope around the frightened gelding’s neck and he lay back with it taut in a near fruitless attempt to keep him from sinking further. Jack dismounted first and looped a second rope around the horse’s neck. He handed the end to Mara, swapping it out for the rope on her saddle. Not a word was exchanged as the three worked in concert. It took their strength plus that of the bay and the sorrel to haul the gelding from the mire. Once he struggled his way out he stood stock still in the driving rain, battered and near exhaustion as Jack clipped the lead to his halter.

"Get him back to the barn!" Mara called out to Jack. She turned to Hector, who stood shin-deep in the ever-growing flood. "You best come up to the main house. The gates are not going to hold this much longer. Your house is too close to the creek."

"Can't leave it." He wrapped his arms around his soaking self and shook his head.

"Ain't gonna be here at this rate. C'mon, Hector. Get your shit together, mate." She glanced back toward the creek. Water splashed up over the half-arsed dirt levee, feeding the puddle they were standing in. Even the open gates didn’t relieve the pressure.

"She's right, mate. It's just dirt. The main house is higher up. Get your important stuff and ride back with us. I don't reckon there's much time."

Hector wasn't stupid. He'd spent a lot of years here and he'd never seen a storm like this. There were some things he wanted from the small house but they were right, nothing was worth dying for. "I'll go. Give me five minutes," he relented. There were pictures, some documents and a bit of cash to retrieve. All he could do was hope for the rest to survive when and if the weak little levee succumbed.

By the time they got back to the main house the water was up to the foot of the porch. There wasn't a sign of the rows of vines in the vineyard and only morning's light would show the true damage if it even came. The rain was merciless still and with the sun gone all of the red in the sky had turned to black. If not for the lights of the main house they'd have never found it at all.

Mara dismounted and turned her horse over to Jack. He and Hector took the animals to the barn, which was still high and dry for the time being. She plodded up onto the porch and through the door to find Max sitting at the kitchen table with his face buried in his hands.

"Max..."

He rose from the chair, dragging a towel from the back of it with him. Helping her out of the long drover’s coat, he let it fall to the floor as he began to towel her off.

"I'll have to put the tea on again. The water boiled down to nothing." The worry in his voice was still present. "Did you find the horse?"

"Yes. We brought Hector back with us as well. Max...the vines..."

"I know, love. There's nothing we can do."

The lights flickered off and on and that was what they could see, but what they were not aware of was the levee had finally bowed as far as it could. It didn't tumble or crumble, it just broke all at once sending a wave of water rushing through the vineyard to wipe out whatever was left of the plants Mara's father had lovingly stuck into the earth. The little creek became a mighty river, swollen from the Orara's belly full and within minutes a simple barrel that Hector had used for a table on his porch set sail for the main house. He'd find it on his waist-deep trek from the barn to the main house. Le Griffon was inundated and if not for the tiny slope of high ground the main house and barn were built on, they'd have been swept away as well.

The lights went out for the final time with the next flash of lightning and the sun didn't bother to shine the next morning. It was well hidden behind a heavy veil of cloud that had not yet finished crying on Queensland. It was going to take a hell of a lot to find the silver lining this time.

ON TO RUSTY OLD HALO