by Lucy Walker
Her eyes were hypnotised once again by the shine on the brass knobs on the bed end.
‘I suppose you are right,’ she said at length. ‘The art school man, Calajira, Andrew ‒ you all think so. You must be right.’
Bern picked up her hand, turned it palm upwards and looked at it. It was a small hand, still very young, but had the scars of hard work upon it. Honourable scars, he knew.
‘I am sorry I hurt you by doing it this way,’ he said soberly. ‘I did it for Andrew’s sake. He had to make up his own mind ‒ alone.’
‘You rescued him from me?’ Katie said, looking at his face, now turned away from her as he opened and shut the fingers of her hand. ‘I had him tied to my apron strings. Is that what you are trying to tell me?’
‘Wonderful apron strings, Katie. Never apologise for them. Without them he would not perhaps even have survived. But there comes a time‒’
‘A time and a place. This is it?’
‘This is it.’
‘I’m sorry you had all this trouble. It was meant to be Gideon Dent.’
The old quizzical smile came back into his eyes.
‘I know you both better than Gideon Dent. The information about Andrew required for Barnes was because I want to be Andrew’s legal guardian. Oh, I have Gideon’s permission, I assure you ‒’
Katie opened her mouth to speak.
‘Don’t say anything, Katie. Not now. When my affairs are finalised give me your answer about Andrew then. I wish I could be more explicit. It’s not possible. A person can apply for mining rights, and file claims, but it takes fourteen days as a minimum for the Government to decide the claimant has rights against all other comers. Fair enough?’
‘Who has claimed first, Bern? You or Gideon Dent?’ For a moment he seemed to bite on something.
‘I have,’ he said briefly.
Ah well, call it a day, Katie my girl, she told herself. You’d better up and come to life again. Neither you nor Gideon will ever win a battle against this man.
‘I’m glad I don’t know anything about your mines, Bern. I almost wish I hadn’t met Gideon Dent. I’m so divided ‒’
His eyes caught hers again and they were smiling.
It was hard to admit she had been wrong: had been foolish to have been so hurt. His smile was the kind that was half a joke and was lighting one in her own eyes.
‘It’s the red in my hair,’ she said ruefully. ‘It gets me into strife. My father always told me that. I’m sorry I ran out of the room ‒’
She hoped he wouldn’t repeat that kiss. Not now. She wasn’t ready for it ‒ with or without passion, or whatever it was that passed for love in Bern’s make-up.
Two days later all three of them, Bern, Katie and Andrew, flew off to Malin’s Outpost in the same chartered Cessna in which they had flown from Pandanning to Perth. Andrew had only been fitted for his new clothes. There had not been time for final purchases.
Every minute of that flight home weakened Katie’s determination to see Gideon Dent again.
She was in love with Bern, however much he did or did not love her, for it seemed that that was one word not in his vocabulary. If he would only say it once; even if he only pretended it!
How much did it matter? Every time she looked at him something pulled at her heart strings; something turned her into a person floating half-way between heaven and hard earth ‒ never quite being in either place.
Two days of being with him, and near him, had given her the kind of happiness that was a mixture of hope and regret: yet put a spell upon her. Did this tie with Gideon Dent matter so much any more?
The arrival of the Cessna brought delight to Secretary ‒ who had not before seen a grounded plane: and to the kelpies, who ‒ madly welcoming the home-comers ‒ barked with joy, and all but knocked Bern off his feet. Only when they had paid their master lavish attention did they then turn and spare some for Katie and Andrew.
‘You’ve come back pretty soon,’ Secretary said, grinning because he was as pleased to see his Boss as were the dogs.
‘Some important papers were left behind. You wouldn’t believe that of me, would you?’ Bern replied.
‘I would not,’ Secretary said with conviction.
‘You’re right. I didn’t leave them. Katie is the culprit.’
Secretary grinned at Katie, his beautiful white teeth flashing in his brown face.
‘Miss Katie knows what she’s doing when she leaves things behind,’ he said darkly. ‘That way she’s sure to come back.’
Katie saw the truth of this remark. Was there nothing Secretary did not know, even what could not be seen but was only in people’s hearts?
The pilot was to stay the night in the homestead and Katie had her first chance of being cook and hostess for Bern.
It was wonderful to be alone in a kitchen and mistress of it now. She burned to make an impressive meal, as she investigated the stores and the fridge. All was well, there was plenty there.
Meantime Bern and Secretary, Andrew at heel, had taken the pilot down to see the paddocks.
Katie ran through the house, opening the opened doors wider. She threw back the curtains so that the glorious sundown air of Malin’s Outpost could all come in.
She stood in the middle of each room, one after the other.
‘It is all mine. My own!’
Now she knew for sure she would never ask Gideon Dent about the wisdom of marrying Bern Malin.
It was a high-handed thing for Gideon Dent to have passed her ‒ and Andrew ‒ over to Bern Malin. But then he was a high-handed man. She could see that. He did exactly what he pleased with people and mines and places out in the Never where he would not let other people catch up with him.
Katie laughed at her new discovery. Yet there were tears in her laughter: tears of farewell because his arms had been strong, his voice tender. She had loved him in absence and without ever really knowing him.
When Bern brought his guest back to the homestead, and then came into the kitchen to find if, by any chance, there was ice in the fridge for their drinks, he found Katie enveloped in an apron left behind by Mrs. Potts. Her eyes were bright and the glow from the fire shot red lights through her hair. There was flour on her cheek, too.
She had a large mixing bowl in her hand and looked at Bern over the top of it, very gravely.
‘About getting married, Bern,’ she said. ‘You really did mean it?’
He was mock gravity himself.
‘I certainly did.’
Katie stirred the bowl vigorously.
‘I wanted to let you know I agree.’
His eyebrows shot up.
‘I had taken it for granted. What has come of your determination to consult that kinsman of yours ‒ Gideon Dent?’
‘I don’t think I’ll bother about him any more. Oh, I’m sad about it, Bern, don’t think I’m not. I’ll always remember … well, I can’t exactly say. It was very personal.’
‘In that case, I’m glad you’ve thrown him over.’
Was he still mocking her?
‘The ice-cubes are in the fridge, Bern,’ she reminded him ‒ in case he thought of kissing her. For a moment she feared that was what he had in mind.
She couldn’t bear it, yet she wanted it so desperately.
If he ever loved her: and told her he loved her, it would be different. If she was certain about Stella Ryde ‒
Bern read her passing thoughts and the mockery went out of his eyes like the drawing down of a blind.
‘Don’t worry, Katie,’ he said from the distance of the fridge. ‘I understand. There’s a time and a place. We’ll know when it’s time.’
‘Thank you, Bern.’
He swung round and opened the fridge door.
‘Where are the blasted ice-blocks,’ he demanded of no one. ‘I’ll bet Secretary never thought to put any in.’
‘He didn’t know we were coming,’ Katie said gently. ‘But I put them in as soon as we arrived, and turned the dial on fu
ll-cold. They ought to be ready ‒’
‘If I can’t have a warm-hearted bedmate until goodness knows when, at least I’m likely to have a good meal and ice in my drink at night,’ Bern said with unexpected fury. ‘Such efficiency!’
He did not turn round to see the astonishment in Katie’s eyes, and the crimson flush that crept up, up, up, over throat and face until she could have cried with mortification.
He put the ice-blocks in a bowl and went out of the kitchen as if he wore soldier’s boots.
The next morning Bern left for Perth again. He was armed with Katie’s precious certificates. Andrew was still in tow because he had to be bought more uniforms and other suitable clothes for the school he was to go to next term, also the suit fitted earlier, a footer sweater, and boots plus cricket togs. These latter had been firmly recommended by the headmaster. Bern had seen the point. Andrew had to learn to be a boy amongst boys as well as probably be the most ghastly encyclopedia of knowledge that any unfortunate master ever had to handle.
The only man who would probably hold his own, Bern thought, was the history master. More power to his arm.
Katie had been left in Secretary’s charge. She would not hear of Mrs. Potts being commanded back from the diggings.
Several days later Mr. Ryde drove his wife over to Malin’s Outpost to see Katie.
‘My darling girl,’ Mrs. Ryde said effusively. ‘Bern dropped us a message as they flew over to say that you two were going to be married. He hadn’t liked to tell it over the two-way. You never know who’s listening in, do you? No, Katie dear, I won’t say I’m not disappointed it wasn’t Tom, but I have to be absolutely honest about dear Tom. He is stodgy, isn’t he? Where girls are concerned, I mean ‒’
‘He’s a darling,’ Katie said warmly, forgetting Tom’s haste to buy Gideon Dent shares to the annoyance of Bern. ‘We didn’t fall in love with one another, that is all. Not Tom, with me, nor ‒’
‘Rubbish, dear child. Anyone would fall in love with you. Even my own dear husband has. Here he comes now. He had to go and say hallo to Secretary first ‒’
They were still on the veranda where Katie had gone to greet her visitors.
‘Do let us go inside,’ Mrs. Ryde went on, ‘and put the kettle on, dear. I can’t drive fifteen miles in this heat without several cups of tea to re-hydrate myself. Is there such a word? That wretched child Andrew would know.’
‘I put the kettle on long ago,’ Katie managed to get in. ‘When I saw the birds rising from the scrub way up along the Ryde track. I knew you were coming ‒ or that someone was coming, even before Secretary had time to tell me. Then I saw your dust cloud.’
Mrs. Ryde had followed Katie to the kitchen. Seated round the kitchen table was the only way for people to let their hair down and tell all. She was already ensconced in Bern’s chair when Mr. Ryde appeared in the doorway. Katie was pouring the boiling water on to the tea leaves.
‘There you are, darling,’ Mrs. Ryde said to her husband. ‘Put your hat on top of the fridge and come and sit down. Now, I want you to tell Katie why we came over here ‒ because it was all your idea.’
She glanced happily at Katie.
‘I was thrilled too. The girls will be mad with delight.’
‘That’s a fact, Katie,’ Mr. Ryde said as he sat down. ‘Bern dropped the message over with a balloon tied to a can ‒ you know the way they do on those chartered planes. I picked it up and read it and I said to my wife ‒ We’ll have the wedding at Ryde’s Place.’ He beamed on Katie as she stood, the kettle poised in one hand and the teapot in the other. ‘It’s all settled,’ he added. ‘No argument.’
Katie was overwhelmed by their kindness; especially as they didn’t seem to know how Stella might feel.
The girls will be mad with delight ‒ Mrs. Ryde had said. Could that be so?
It was all settled.
Secretary and Taciturn did the communications ‒ Secretary via Jack Bean to the diggers and other diggers farther outback of whom Katie had never heard. She was afraid to ask if Gideon Dent was invited, or, if invited, whether he was coming or not. She knew Secretary knew Gideon Dent, as Jack Bean, Sam and Fred knew him. Sam had in fact led Katie to him. She didn’t want to hear if he wasn’t coming, and she didn’t want Secretary or Jack Bean or Sam and Fred to think she couldn’t keep a secret. She had promised never to mention Gideon Dent’s name. So even now, she kept her promise. She didn’t ask.
‘I have to keep my mind and heart and hope on Bern,’ she told herself. ‘Otherwise I would be unfaithful.’
Taciturn did the communicating with Pandanning and it seemed only days when the girls were back home, Tom not long after.
‘Good luck to you, Katie,’ Stella said when they drove over to see her. ‘Findings keepings, and winners take the winnings out here in this bush life. You’ve only done to me what I would have done to you, if I’d been shrewd enough.’
‘Katie wasn’t shrewd, Stella,’ Jill put in crossly. ‘She’s just rather nice and very true-blue. It’s a winner if it comes natural. Katie dear, don’t shed any tears over Stella. Tom flew down to Pandanning in a matter of hours, when he heard ‒ which was pretty pronto, due to the parents sending transceiver messages that could be received by every living soul from Albany to Wyndham. And Tom, dear brother that he is, whipped up all the best farmers in the district, some of which had already fallen for Stella’s brand of eyes long ago. Anyhow, there’s one ‒’
‘Don’t be so hasty, Jill,’ Stella said with affected disdain. ‘One doesn’t make up one’s mind in a couple of days.’
‘Bern and Katie weren’t far off that,’ Jill said sceptically. ‘Anyhow you’ve known Dane Henderson for quite a while. You just didn’t know how much till Tom wised Dane up that now was his big moment to try.’
‘He has twice as much money as Bern Malin will ever have,’ Stella said ‒ merely mentioning the fact. ‘Anyhow we haven’t come to talk about Dane Henderson. We’ve come to talk about Katie’s wedding. Of course, she’ll have to have a beautiful dress and a pair of white satin-finish shoes. They’re all the go. So we’ve brought some gorgeous material from Pandanning with us. Jill says her shoes fit you so she bought a pair her size. Oh, and guess who chose the material? Tom, no less!’
‘Tom?’ Katie was incredulous.
They were on the veranda now. All three sitting on the steps.
‘Tom no less,’ repeated Jill. ‘Isn’t he quaint? Nothing but the best. You’re just as well out of marrying Tom, Katie. He’s a real old maid. He’s getting the kick of his life out of seeing you look beautiful being married to someone else. Even more kick out of seeing we had new dresses too.’
‘Jill,’ Katie said in exasperation. ‘The only two people who didn’t assume Tom and I might marry one another were Tom and myself. Ask him. Neither of us had the slightest inclination that way.’
‘Uh-huh!’ Jill agreed reluctantly. ‘I think he wanted what Katie knew, more than what Katie is. Don’t you, Stella?’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about. Let’s get on with how we, or Katie, or all of us will make the wedding dress,’ Stella said meaningly. ‘By the way has anyone remembered to let Bern know he’s getting married at Ryde’s Place? Dad’s booked the Travelling Clergyman through the Church Office at Pandanning: not to mention caterers. Imagine it, girls? Turkey by chartered aircraft. Ice-cream, fruit salad, wedding cake and lashings of champagne all coming the same way. Jill, what do you suppose the old man will do for us, his daughters?’
‘Charter two planes, I expect,’ Jill said. She would keep her own secret to herself for a few weeks yet. Alan Renshaw was very near asking the vital question. It would be her turn to be a bride sooner than later. But this moment was Katie’s. She wasn’t going to spoil it by trying to share it.
Chapter Eighteen
Two weeks flew on the wings of harmony and much fun-making between Ryde’s and Malin’s Outpost. Katie wanted to make her own dress and did succeed in making most of it. Stel
la and Jill had to have a finger in it too, so they did some of the hand-sewing on the beautiful lace. It was decided that it would be a cocktail-type of dress ‒ according to the fashion books brought home by the girls. A long dress, train and veil didn’t seem quite right for the bush. Everyone agreed on that. But it was heavenly white guipure lace, all of it. The fine white organdie hat with the wide wide brim ‒ also brought home by the girls ‒ was soon fashioned into something beautiful with small delicate flowers round the crown. Jill’s fitting in white satin-finish shoes was exactly right.
Never, Katie thought, was ever any wedding in the world like this. She even forgot to be afraid of that moment when she and Bern would be married and he had not yet said ‒ ‘I love you.’
The only time to think was at night, and at night whether she was at Malin’s Outpost or fifteen miles away at Ryde’s Place, she was too utterly tired to do anything but drop bang off to sleep the moment her head touched the pillow.
Thinking, like everything else but the wedding, was for another day.
There was much argument between the Rydes as to the exact spot where the ceremony would take place. Finally it was settled for the grass patch in front of the homestead. The wedding breakfast was to be on the veranda. Every veranda post was to be decorated with creeper and bougainvillaeas.
During the preparations there were some days when Katie was at Ryde’s Place, some days at home at Malin’s Outpost. Secretary said she was a willi-willi dusting a fifteen mile track between here and there: all in a whirl.
Katie cleaned and polished her house, and polished again. She put gum leaves in some vases and gladly accepted the gift of pot plants from the Rydes. Jack Bean arrived with great bunches of bush wild-flowers, only found miles and miles away, as a contribution to Bern’s home-coming. Mrs. Potts sent her best hand-embroidered table-cloth with her blessing and the not unexpected verdict ‒ Just as well Bern’s marrying you himself before trouble starts. It always does when there’s an unattached girl in the bush.
Katie hadn’t worried when one of the girls had asked ‒ ‘Has anyone remembered to tell Bern he’s getting married at Ryde’s Place?’