The Bushranger's Wife

by Cheryl Adnams

  ‘I was just coming to get you,’ she said, but Jack heard nothing.

  His eyes had landed on Pru, her nightgown slick to her body with the sweat of hard work over so many hours. Her face was pale and she looked beyond exhausted, but her smile was as bright as a summer morning, and she held a little squirming, blood-smeared creature, wailing like a banshee.

  ‘Jack,’ she said, tears filling her eyes as she looked up from the bundle she held. ‘Come and meet your son.’

  He didn’t think he could contain the explosion of joy in his chest at that moment. The swell of emotion, the pride, the happiness, the sadness, the thrill, his love for Pru, all mixed together into one knotted ball in his chest that was fit to burst up his throat if he didn’t breathe again soon.

  He inhaled a huge gulp of breath, and when feeling returned to his legs, he moved towards the bed, leaning over carefully to peek at the tiny baby in his wife’s arms.

  ‘My son?’ he whispered in awe. ‘We have a son?’

  ‘We have a son,’ she repeated and he looked into her eyes, tired and full of tears.

  Jack sat carefully on the bed beside her and leaned over to kiss her forehead, then her lips …

  ‘I was so worried,’ he said. ‘I love you so much. You fought for so long, I was afraid …’

  ‘Sshhh,’ she said through tears. ‘I’m fine. He’s fine.’

  ‘He’s more than fine,’ Jack said, taking a closer look at the boy. ‘He’s a Fairweather lad.’

  Pru laughed wearily. ‘That he is.’

  ‘Let’s get him cleaned up a little, shall we?’ Katie said and leaned over them to take the boy.

  ‘Wait!’ Jack said suddenly. ‘What do we name him?’

  ‘I thought perhaps, Henry.’

  ‘Henry,’ Jack tried it out. ‘Henry Jonathon Fairweather.’

  ‘Jonathon?’ Pru asked.

  ‘My real name,’ Jack said.

  ‘Alright then,’ Katie said and took the boy. ‘Henry, let’s get you cleaned up. And Jack, you need to let Pru rest a while.’

  ‘Of course,’ he said, his eyes following the boy as Katie took him to the basin of warm water to give him his first bath.

  Jack turned back to Pru in awe. ‘I didn’t think it was possible to love you any more than I did.’ He kissed her cheeks and rubbed the matted, sweaty hair from her face. ‘Can I help you get cleaned up?’

  He grabbed a cloth from the bowl beside the bed and wiped her red face lovingly.

  She closed her eyes. ‘Ah, that feels nice. Thank you, my love. But please, give me a few minutes to wash up properly.’

  ‘As you wish, my darling Pru.’

  He kissed her forehead lovingly and stepped towards the door, peering over Katie’s shoulder as she washed his son. His son.

  He pulled the door closed behind him and walked out to the porch again.

  Bobby returned from the creek and one look at Jack’s face had him rushing up the porch steps.

  ‘Jack, what is it? What’s happened? Is Pru alright? Is the baby alright?’

  ‘I have a son.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘I have a son,’ Jack repeated, the shock still swirling through his body. ‘His name is Henry.’

  Bobby’s whooping cheer and laughter broke Jack out of his stunned reverie.

  ‘A son! Congratulations, Jack!’ Bobby said, taking his friend in a bone-crunching hug and slapping him heartily on the back. ‘This calls for a drink!’

  Bobby rushed into the house and emerged again moments later with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Putting the glasses on the porch railing, he poured two shots, handing one to Jack. ‘To Henry Fairweather!’

  Jack raised his glass and grinned. ‘To my son, Henry.’

  They drank and Bobby poured another drink for them both.

  ‘To Prudence!’ Bobby offered.

  ‘The most amazingly strong woman I have ever known,’ Jack said, and lifting his glass he drank again. The warm liquid zapped the last of his shock and like a madman he danced around the front yard, allowing Bobby to top up his drink as he passed by.

  ‘Jack!’

  Katie’s voice cut into his celebrations. He looked up at her expectantly.

  ‘Pru wants to see you again,’ Katie said, sculling the whiskey Bobby handed her. Jack took the porch steps two at a time, and twirling Katie so fast she almost overbalanced, he raced back into the house.

  ***

  Pru marvelled at how quickly Henry was able to latch on to her breast and feed. Katie had said that sometimes it takes a while to get the feeding all sorted, and that if it didn’t happen then she could hire a wet nurse.

  She knew it was common for mothers of the upper classes in London to employ the services of a wet nurse. It was often considered odd and unsocial behaviour to want to feed one’s own baby. Had her grandmother been involved in her life, she felt sure she would have been pressured to hire a woman to breastfeed Henry. But Pru thought those women to be genteel ninnies, who cared more about their social standing than their children. There was no way she was going to miss this incredible bonding moment with her son.

  It was the strangest sensation and she couldn’t take her eyes of him as he suckled mightily for one so little. He already had a thin crown of russet hair. She wondered if he would grow up to have brown hair like his father or be more auburn like her. It was so hard to tell this early. His newborn blue eyes opened every now and again to look up at her and she melted every time.

  Running a finger lightly over his peaches and cream complexion, she could scarcely believe what she’d done. Whether it was the exhaustion or all the emotions muddled and churning inside her, Pru had a fleeting moment of wishing her grandmother could see him. But then she wished her own mother could have seen him too, and it killed any guilt she had over keeping Henry away from his great grandmother.

  She looked up when the bedroom door opened and Jack stumbled in.

  ‘Been drinking, Mr Fairweather?’ she asked without any censure.

  ‘Just a few to celebrate,’ he answered with a little slur.

  He stood awkwardly at the door, holding onto it for support.

  ‘Come,’ she said, reaching out a hand to him. ‘Just don’t breathe on him too hard or he’ll be drunk before he’s even walking.’

  Warily, he moved closer to the bed, looking down at the now swaddled child at her breast.

  ‘Lord, he’s really gnawing on that thing, isn’t he?’

  She chuckled. ‘He is his father’s son after all.’

  Jack sat beside her and watched intently. ‘Does that hurt?’

  ‘It feels odd.’

  ‘How do you know what to do?’ he asked. ‘Have you been around babies before?’

  ‘Not really,’ she said, exhaling heavily. ‘I’m just as scared as you are, Jack. But Katie has dealt with babies a lot. Birthing obviously, bless her.’

  ‘I’ll be buying her a year’s worth of pretty dresses, you can be sure of that.’

  Pru smiled. ‘She has given me some instructions, but other than that, she said we will figure it all out as we go along.’

  ‘We?’ Jack asked.

  ‘Yes, Jack, we,’ she said strongly. ‘You will be as much a part of your son’s upbringing as I will.’

  ‘I can’t do that,’ he said, pointing at where Henry was feeding.

  She rolled her eyes and hoped it was the drink that was making Jack so dull headed.

  ‘There are plenty of other things a man can do for his child.’

  ‘I don’t know …’ he said, and Pru thought he looked more nervous than she had ever seen him before.

  ‘We’ll figure it out, Jack,’ she said. ‘And you are going to be a wonderful father.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Yeah,’ she said and when Henry detached, she lifted him and held him towards Jack. ‘Now take him while I switch sides.’

  ‘Take him?’

  She’d been wrong. Now Jack looked more nervous than she’d ever s
een him.

  ‘Just hold his head and bottom and you’ll be fine,’ she said laying the boy in his father’s arms for the first time.

  At first Jack looked awkward, but then he readjusted himself and cradled Henry quite comfortably in his big arms.

  ‘He’s heavier than he looks,’ Jack commented.

  ‘He’s full of milk just now. No, don’t jiggle him about like that …’

  Too late.

  The projectile vomit was quite impressive for one so small and caught Jack fair on the chin.

  Pru couldn’t smother the laugh that burst forth. Surprisingly though, Jack dealt quite admirably with being covered in milky sick. She took Henry back from him and cleaned him up while Jack stood to do the same.

  ‘Suppose I should be used to that,’ Jack said, taking a nearby cloth to wipe his chin and shirt. ‘It was years before Bobby could hold his liquor.’

  ‘You’re a soldier, Jack Fairweather,’ she said, allowing the admiration into her voice. She fixed Henry to the other breast, once he was all cleaned up, and felt the glow inside her as Jack continued to stay and watch.

  When the feeding was done, and the baby winded, Katie took Henry to put him down for a sleep and Jack left Pru to get some much-earned rest of her own.

  ‘Pru says you are to wet the baby’s head,’ Katie instructed, as the men climbed aboard their horses. ‘But don’t go getting into any trouble and be home before dawn.’

  ‘As ordered,’ Jack saluted. ‘Take care of my family, Katie girl.’

  She nodded and laughed as Bobby and Jack rode off in a chorus of cheers and whoops.

  ***

  Every day Henry seemed to grow noticeably, like a sprout that pokes its head out in winter, and then suddenly it’s a blooming plant two days into spring. His features changed so quickly, it was hard to keep up. It was also hard to keep up with how much the boy pooped and threw up after each meal. No sooner had Jack changed a nappy than Henry had soiled it once again. Pru told him it was normal, but Jack didn’t know how it was possible for Henry to continue to grow at such a rapid rate when everything he ate was expelled from his tiny body. But grow he did, and Jack’s life was a never-ending revolution of work and doting on his son.

  He didn’t enjoy running the business now that Pru wasn’t there with him. Tasks took longer to do without her and his days became a mundane waiting game until he could get home to his boy. Luckily, Pru still did the books, otherwise they would have been out of business before Henry had reached three months old.

  He often found himself stuck in the office, dreaming of being out on the open road again, in the sunshine, riding Persephone with the wind in his face and a bag full of stolen goods. Shaking off the discontentment he knew he had no right to feel, he stepped out to greet the coach from Geelong.

  At the end of the day, Jack saw Bobby wandering up the street towards him.

  ‘Hey, Jack,’ Bobby called out with a wave. ‘How’s business?’

  ‘Can’t complain’.

  ‘It’s been a while since I’ve seen you. How’s Pru? Henry?’

  ‘Good, great. You should come by with Katie for dinner again one night.’

  Bobby smiled. ‘Can you believe us? The settled family men.’

  ‘No,’ Jack sighed. ‘I can’t.’

  Bobby laughed. ‘Come get a drink with me before you head home.’

  Jack checked his pocket watch. ‘It will have to be a quick one.’

  ‘Absolutely,’ Bobby added. ‘Katie’s cooking me dinner.’

  They walked to the George Hotel, bypassing the Duchess of Kent as they went. It had been months since Jack had set foot in the place. And while Bobby and Katie still worked there, they rarely socialised there anymore.

  ‘Times have changed, hey,’ Bobby said as they settled at the bar at the George.

  ‘They have indeed.’ Jack lifted his drink in toast before taking a sip.

  ‘I’m asking Katie to marry me.’

  Jack spat his drink across the bar.

  ‘Is that such a shock?’ Bobby asked. He looked anxious, Jack thought.

  ‘Not a shock, you just could have waited until I didn’t have a mouthful of whiskey,’ Jack said, wiping his face with his handkerchief. Then he grinned from ear to ear.

  ‘Don’t you approve, Jack?’

  Why Bobby felt he needed Jack’s approval was beyond him, but he couldn’t resist teasing his oldest friend. His expression turned serious and he shook his head. ‘I have only one thing to say to you, Bobby.’

  Bobby frowned. ‘What?’

  Jack let the smile come in slowly. ‘It’s about time.’

  The worry left Bobby’s face and Jack called to the barman. ‘Another drink for my friend! He’s getting married.’

  When they both had full glasses, Jack raised his again. ‘To old married men.’

  ‘Old married men.’ Bobby tapped his glass to Jack’s and they drank. ‘Will you be my best man, Jack?’

  ‘Of course.’

  ‘I’m only sorry I didn’t get to be yours,’ Bobby said. ‘But if Katie and I have a marriage half as good and solid as yours and Pru’s, I’ll be happy.’

  ‘That’s a damn nice thing to say, old friend.’

  ***

  On a cool but sunny day in August, Bobby and Katie were married in a simple ceremony performed by the new young Catholic priest. Close friends gathered in the large front yard of the little cottage Bobby had purchased that overlooked Lake Wendouree. Once the vows had been spoken, Bobby dipped his lovely bride and kissed her to the cheers and jeers of the revellers and a grand reception got underway.

  Like Jack, Bobby had saved much of his takings from their previous occupation, and no expense had been spared to give Katie the day she deserved.

  The bride was stunning in an ivory lace gown and lace veil. Music, played by a small band, entertained and allowed for dancing. A huge table was spread with food, and drinks flowed in celebration of the happy union.

  ‘Do you regret not having a day like this?’ Jack asked Pru as they watched Katie and Bobby dance, wrapped in each other’s arms.

  ‘It is beautiful,’ Pru sighed. ‘But no.’ She turned to him. ‘I’ve no regrets, my love. I wanted to marry you as quickly as possible. You’re the one who made me wait.’

  ‘My impatient little Prudence,’ he said with a chuckle. ‘You tormented me within an inch of my life. But I wish I could have given this to you.’

  ‘I couldn’t be happier,’ she assured him with a kiss.

  They gazed lovingly across to where Henry played happily with other babies and toddlers on a blanket laid out on the grass.

  Katie joined them, her smile as wide and as bright as a bride’s should be on her wedding day. ‘Jack, Bobby requests you join him and Bandi for a drink while I catch my breath.’

  ‘As ordered.’ Jack saluted Katie, kissed Pru and headed over to join Bandi and Bobby at the table set up as a bar.

  Grabbing the nearest bottle of whiskey, he poured a large glass. ‘I am under orders to get the groom drunk.’

  ‘Katie said that?’ Bobby asked, his eyes narrowed.

  ‘No.’ Jack winked, but noted Bobby’s less than cheerful expression. ‘Smile, boyo, marriage isn’t so bad.’

  ‘Tell him,’ Bobby urged Bandi, who looked unusually grim.

  ‘Viktor’s out of prison.’

  Jack halted, the glass of whiskey halfway to his mouth. Taking a deep breath, he threw the whole drink down.

  ‘They released him?’

  ‘It’s not possible. The murdering son-of-a-bitch got life in prison,’ Bobby said in disbelief. ‘There’s no way they would let him out.’

  ‘Then he escaped,’ Jack said, more to himself than the others. It was hard to believe. No one escaped the Melbourne Gaol. ‘Are you sure? It’s not just some meritless gossip or rumour?’

  ‘Sure as I’m standing here,’ Bandi said in a low voice. ‘Viktor escaped. A telegraph came across the desk at the station. Sergeant called us al
l in, said to be on the lookout for him.’

  ‘Well, I doubt he’ll come here. This’ll be the first place the troopers’ll look,’ Bobby said. ‘He’ll be long gone to Queensland if he knows what’s good for him.’

  When Bandi went to pile his plate with more food, Jack and Bobby stood in silent retrospection for a moment.

  ‘You think he’s coming after us?’

  Jack frowned deeply and scanned the crowd for Pru and Henry. ‘Maybe we should have left the district after Viktor was caught.’

  ‘We had no reason to,’ Jack said. ‘He was in prison, he didn’t tell anyone we were with him. It’ll be fine. Just keep your eyes open in case he does decide to come to town.’

  ‘Hopefully, the police will recapture him before he makes it this far.’

  Jack didn’t feel so sure. Viktor had never been the sharpest tool at the blacksmith’s. He’d have one thing on his mind before he left the district. Money. Jack owed him his cut from the last heist they ran before Viktor was caught. He’d be happy to give it to him if he knew Viktor would take it and go away, and stay away for good.

  Again, he cast his eyes across the party to where Pru was talking with Mrs O’Callaghan. She looked up and waved at him. He forced a smile on his face and waved back, just as a carriage trundled by along the main road into town. Jack checked his pocket watch. It was four o’clock. The last Cobb & Co from Melbourne. It gave him an idea. A holiday. He’d take Pru and Henry away to Melbourne until Viktor was caught again, or until he was well away from Ballarat.

  He wasn’t afraid of Viktor. But he would do anything to keep him away from his family.

  Chapter 15

  ‘This was such a wonderful idea, Jack.’ Pru lifted her glass to his. ‘We haven’t been to the city for such a long time.’

  ‘You deserved a holiday.’ Jack touched his crystal glass to hers.

  ‘And a dinner out? Alone.’ Pru beamed, gazing around at the lavishly appointed Melbourne restaurant. ‘I love Henry to pieces, but it’s nice to have a special treat together, just us. I am often so tired, I don’t feel as though I give you the time, or the love, you need.’

  ‘You give me plenty of loving,’ he said, a simmering, sensual look in his eye, as he took her other hand and kissed it. ‘But if you think you need help, we can hire a nanny full time. Young Clara seems to handle Henry well.’