by Amanda Deed
‘For years I wished to join the drovers, even if just as a horse tailer—they tend the horses, you know. I especially wanted to go droving after hearing them talk of life on the track. But I’m a girl, so it’s nothing more than a silly fancy.’ Jane swallowed. Silly fancy or no, it still meant a great deal to her. The yearning to belong to a close-knit team such as Mitch’s mob engulfed her at times. She glanced at Mr Moreland. He still sat with his eyes closed, listening.
‘Mitch has a son called Danny. He’s a few years older than me. After so many visits, we became friends.’ The only friend I’ve ever had. ‘He’s not riding with the mob this trip.’ Jane shrugged to hide the depth of her feelings. ‘I miss him.’
Price watched Miss Jane’s profile through half-closed eyes. She appeared to struggle against emotion. He had just had a glimpse into the heart of this lovely girl, he believed. And it was a heart in pain. Compassion swelled within him. If he hazarded a guess, he would say this boy, Danny, meant more to her than a simple friend. Had he died? Price pushed that notion aside. Miss Jane had only said he wasn’t with the drovers.
‘So, you watched the team from up here instead.’ Perhaps he could persuade her to tell him more.
Miss Jane nodded, swallowing, but didn’t look in his direction.
‘Is this Danny sick?’
This time, she shook her head and pressed one hand over her mouth in a semi-fist.
‘He no longer wants to be a drover?’
Miss Jane shook her head again and scrambled to her feet. ‘He got married.’ The three words came out broken, as tears slipped down her freckled cheeks, and then without further warning, she turned and fled.
‘Miss Jane!’ Price pushed himself to his feet, his heart dropping like a stone. ‘I’m sorry.’ He called after her, but she didn’t even pause.
Price turned around and leaned his head against the big gum. ‘You have no idea how sorry I am.’ The poor girl had a broken heart. She had probably hoped to marry Danny herself. And now here he was, confusing her with words of courtship while she still grieved Danny’s loss.
He pushed away from the tree and headed back to his store. He must make it up to her. She had opened up to him and shared a treasured part of her life. That meant she trusted him, even if in the smallest way. Price meant to honour that trust, and if possible, make it grow.
What have I done? Jane stormed back and forth in her makeshift room. She had let her emotions better her, that’s what. And now Mr Moreland would not wish to associate with her. He would think her a weak, oversensitive female. She had meant to make him aware of Danny, but she had not intended for that flood of rejection and jealousy to burst from her. One moment she had been fine, in a manner of speaking. Nervous but not upset. And then without warning those feelings welled up and spilled over in an embarrassing outburst.
With a groan Jane sank to the edge of her bed and dropped her head in her hands. She wanted space to get used to this new growing attraction, despite grieving over Danny. But at the same time, she didn’t want to discourage Mr Moreland. Now, likely, he would refuse to see her again. And for certain, he would turn to another of his admirers, perhaps even one of her stepsisters. No. She couldn’t bear it.
Jane sucked in a deep breath and sat up straight, her shoulders square. Perhaps she should approach him on Sunday and apologise or try to explain. She blew out the pent-up air. To intentionally confront someone, especially a man, was not something she had ever done before, except for Danny. But maybe this time, she could find the courage. After all, Mr Moreland had said he enjoyed her company and wanted to get to know her. That must count for something. Surely it meant he wouldn’t turn his back on her and walk away.
And if that doesn’t work … Jane glanced at her dresser where there sat a jar of ink and a pen. I have another idea, just in case.
When Sunday came around, exuberance filled Price for the day ahead. Not only would he see Miss Jane again—and he hoped she was happier by now—but Mr Li had agreed to join him for the service. Price had been out to where the Chinese people lived and experienced their hospitality, sharing their food and many cups of Chinese tea.
By the time he’d stopped by Mr Li’s home to collect him they were late to arrive. One day I’ll arrive early and give them a surprise. Price grinned to himself. He ushered Mr Li inside, where the resonance of many voices filled the air, and pointed him to a pew in the back row. With a deep sigh of contentment, Price handed his new friend a hymn book and then joined his voice with the congregation.
As usual, Price noticed the young single women glance over their shoulders at him and smile. But then a strange thing happened. After these girls whispered to their friends or mothers, others started to turn around and look at him. Faces began to fall and even frown, and more hushed comments passed between husbands and wives or friends.
Price slid his eyes sideways to Mr Li beside him. Surely not. Not in a church. Was the prejudice he’d seen within his own store over a week ago also alive within the walls of a Christian institution? His heart sank with disappointment. Hadn’t he seen enough racial prejudice back in the United States against the African people?
Differing opinions over the Africans had led to a war back home and that brought his father to mind. Guilt still gnawed at him for the way he’d left home. But Father and he would never see eye to eye, no matter how long they debated the issue. It was easier to walk away. Had he been disillusioned to think he might escape those same sentiments here in Australia? Why did people assume other races were less than human?
Price fought the urge to take Mr Li and walk out of there straight away. Instead, he straightened his shoulders and faced the altar, ignoring any looks that came their way. A grim smile played on his mouth as he remembered Mr Li’s attitude. Take no notice of angry men. And a glance in his direction told Price it was precisely what he did now. The Chinese man tried to follow along with the hymn and for all the world appeared to be enjoying himself.
As they sat to listen to the sermon, Price’s mind wandered far from the message. Did Miss Jane harbour the same attitude which most of the town seemed to share? He would be rather sad if it were so. In fact, he would be downright dejected. Price tried to shove the doubts from his mind. He would find out soon enough.
After the service, they made their way out into the yard. The reverend appeared awkward as he greeted both Price and Mr Li. Price wanted to shake his head in disgust and give the minister a piece of his mind, but he refrained. Perhaps he should meet him in private sometime and discuss the matter.
For a change, people did not swarm to greet Price. Mothers held their daughters at bay and the gentlemen, some of whom had been his customers, kept their distance. Had he become a pariah in an instant, just by doing the Lord’s will and sharing the Good News with a man, even though he was of oriental descent? Price was so shocked he didn’t know how to respond, not even knowing what to say to Mr Li. It was plain embarrassing to have the family of God shun a man in that manner.
Miss Harriet and Miss Nancy O’Reilly surprised Price when they bounded toward him.
‘Hello, Mr Moreland,’ they greeted in unison.
‘Howdy, Miss Harriet. Miss Nancy.’ Price looked past them to see if Miss Jane followed in their wake. She did, but at a distance. He nodded to her and smiled, uncertain of how she would respond to him today.
Price gestured to the Chinese man who stood beside him. ‘This is Mr …’
‘Come along girls.’ Mrs O’Reilly’s strident voice overrode him, even as her person barged into the circle. She did not pause as she approached but began to usher her daughters away toward their buggy. ‘We must not keep your Aunt Ruby waiting with dinner and risk spoiling it.’
With a swish of skirts, she bustled away, her daughters in tow, but not before shooting him a scowl of disgrace.
Price sighed as he turned his back to their departing forms, only to find
Miss Jane standing before him. His breath left his body as his gaze met two green eyes, open wide in supplication. It was the briefest of moments, for her focus dropped to the ground at once, but he had connected with her soul in that instant. She wanted something from him.
In an awkward movement, she put out a gloved hand. ‘Good day, Mr Moreland.’ Her voice never rose above a whisper.
Price glanced at her hand for a moment, his mind a complete blank. And then it dawned on him. She wanted to shake with him. As he moved to clasp her extended hand, he then saw the slip of paper she held.
‘Jane!’ Mrs O’Reilly’s voice carried from behind him.
Price took Miss Jane’s hand in his and shook it, transferring the note to his own palm. But he didn’t let go straight away. When she tugged, he kept his grip firm. He wanted to convey something to her and he willed her to look up again. ‘Have a nice day, Miss Jane.’
When he was ready to give up—when it became obvious that their hands had been joined for too long—she lifted her face again. He smiled into her eyes, trying to reassure her that everything was all right, and that he would do whatever it was she wanted of him. Her pretty lips parted in a startled gasp and then she hurried away, but not before nodding at Mr Li too.
More than anything, Price wanted to see what secrets the note from Miss Jane contained, but he had a duty to Mr Li to complete. He tucked the message into his breast pocket, near his heart, and smiled. It was one moment of joy in an otherwise difficult morning. Indeed, it wasn’t till much later—after dinner with the Li family and many apologies for the slights of his Christian brethren—that he could sit in the quiet of his apartment above the store and read what Miss Jane had to say.
At last, alone with his thoughts, Price relaxed into his new, leather-bound grandfather chair. New, as far as being a recent purchase with the profits of his booming business. The chair itself, although sturdy and comfortable, bore the marks of wear in places. Price sighed with frustration. Would his business now suffer due to the biased attitudes of the townsfolk? What was the point of the sacrifices he’d made, if he couldn’t do what he yearned to do without opposition?
He leaned his head back against the wall behind the armchair and closed his eyes. How terrible Mr Li must feel. Price made a mental note to speak to the reverend about this issue and then drove the dejection from his mind. He didn’t want to dwell on racial prejudice in Hay. All it accomplished was a growing knot of tension in his gut.
Shaking his head, Price drew the small folded note from his breast pocket. He would focus on Miss Jane. All afternoon he’d been wondering what was in this note. Perhaps an angry accusation that he’d pried too much into her personal affairs. It was unlikely considering her soft expression when she greeted him. A plea for him to stay away from her? That was a possibility, but he hoped not.
Anyway, he no longer had to ponder the mysterious contents of the message, so why torture himself further? Price unfolded the piece of paper and read:
Mr Moreland,
I am very sorry for my outburst of last week. I am not often given over to sentimentality, I assure you. If you can look past my many faults, I should like to continue our conversation. Please don’t think me too bold, sir, but I do enjoy your company as well.
I shall be visiting my mother’s grave every afternoon around four o’clock if you would care to join me. If not, I will understand and not bother you again.
Sincerely,
Jane O’Reilly.
A slow smile spread on Price’s face as he lowered the letter to his lap, and a warm glow filled his heavy heart. Perhaps there was something worthwhile in this town after all.
12
Doubts assailed Jane with force as she waited by the great red gum the next afternoon. Grey clouds tumbled across the sky, but they had spent themselves of rain for the day. The damp earth sent up a heady scent of decaying eucalyptus. Moses played in the branches above her, every now and then dropping a small twig he’d snapped off with his sharp beak. Although the river flowed by in its gentle unhurried way, Jane’s heart quaked with turmoil.
She stood on the bank, snapping twigs into tiny pieces and tossing them into the river’s current. Passing clandestine notes to a man—she’d never done such a fool thing before. If her sisters found out she would be the laughing stock of the entire town, and worse if Mr Moreland was not as genuine as he presented himself. What if he was setting her up, just as Prissy had many years ago? Jane picked up another dry twig and broke it with force.
At the very least Mr Moreland would think her impertinent and vulgar. The whole idea was improper. ‘Aargh.’ Jane threw the pieces of branch into the river. Why had she done it at all? And to think it had taken her every ounce of courage to even approach him. Oh, but then Mr Moreland had held onto her hand until she looked up at him. The warmth and strength in his grip made her heart flip a dozen times. For some reason a sense of complete security from his strong hand had swept through her, and a deep yearning rushed to the surface. God, please make me beautiful. I just want to be loved.
The brief glance into his eyes had served to strengthen that longing. He had smiled at her. Really smiled. The kind of smile that reached his eyes and filled them with warmth and assurance. Not even Danny had made her heart threaten to explode in that manner. For a moment, she’d believed she might be able to trust Mr Moreland with everything. For a moment.
Now Jane doubted. Maybe she imagined the whole experience because she so wanted to be noticed. Jane groaned again. She was vain. It was vain to think anyone would ever care for her, particularly the likes of Mr Moreland, who had the choice of any woman of fancy. And even if Mr Moreland did pay her attention, Mother would make things impossible for them. Yet Jane came to the tree, just in case. But he wouldn’t respond to her note. Of course, he wouldn’t. Why would he?
‘Ugly. Ugly. Ugly.’ Jane thumped her fists into her thighs. She might as well go back home. She didn’t even know why she’d bothered to come out.
As she turned to walk, movement in the brush at the edge of the clearing caught her eye. Mr Moreland’s tall frame pushed through and a sense of profound relief washed over her. ‘You came.’
‘A hurricane couldn’t have kept me away.’ Mr Moreland sounded so genuine, Jane’s mouth went dry and her pulse leapt into double time.
She swallowed, trying to find moisture for her dry throat. ‘The ground is a trifle damp. Would you like to walk?’
For an answer Mr Moreland held out his elbow. Jane caught her breath. Taking his arm meant touching him. She had never walked on a man’s arm before, not even Danny’s. After a slight hesitation, she placed her fingertips in the crook of Mr Moreland’s arm and let him lead her along the river bank. This proximity did nothing to alleviate her jitters, and her mind emptied of all sensible thought.
Moments later, Moses flew down and landed on her shoulder with a light screech.
‘Well hello there, Moses,’ Mr Moreland greeted the cockatoo.
Moses shifted his feet, trying to find the right perch.
‘What would you like to talk about today, Miss Jane?’
Jane’s tongue fused to the roof of her mouth, but she forced words out. ‘You can just call me Jane. Everyone else does.’
Mr Moreland stopped walking and turned to face her. Jane panicked. She must have said something to annoy him. She dared to raise her eyes enough to study his face, but there was no frown there.
‘I am not everyone else, Miss Jane.’ His smile was a grim one. ‘Listen, I know that according to propriety we shouldn’t be out here alone together, but it seems to be the only way to spend time with you.’
Jane nodded. You don’t even know the half of it.
‘But I want you to understand that I respect your maidenhood. I am determined I’ll not be too familiar with you. Miss Jane, you will remain. For now, at any rate.’ He finished with what sounded to be a self-c
onscious chuckle.
What did he mean by that? For now? Jane’s stomach twisted with jumbled emotion. She was dumbstruck. No one had ever treated her with such regard. She couldn’t look in his eyes and words failed her. But she took Mr Moreland’s offered elbow again and they continued to walk.
‘May I ask you something, Miss Jane?’
Anxiety rose in her again. What did he want? ‘Yes.’
‘You saw the gentleman I brought with me to The Chapel yesterday. What is your opinion of the Chinese?’
Jane swallowed. If she gave him the wrong answer, would he walk away? Most people hated the Chinese. She’d heard them called many insulting names. Even amongst her family. And speaking her mind had once earned her a scathing set-down. It was safer to keep her opinions quiet.
But Jane had been on the receiving end of similar exclusion. She opened and closed her free hand, which had become moist with perspiration. Perhaps Mr Moreland was more sympathetic to other races. After all, he brought the Chinese man to church, and here he was actively seeking Plain Jane, the town’s outcast, for company. She sucked in a deep breath and let it out at length. ‘I don’t think anyone should look down on another.’
Jane dared a sideways glance at him and recognised a relieved smile on his lips. Some of the tension eased in her shoulders at once.
‘I’m so glad to hear you say that, Miss Jane. Unfortunately, the same cannot be said of others in Hay.’
Jane understood Mr Moreland’s meaning, and more than he could even be aware. Should she tell him yet? It might destroy their chance to talk.
‘I must say, I’m rather frustrated.’ Mr Moreland stopped walking and pulled away from her, staring into the flowing waters. He thrust his hands into the pockets of his trousers. Turning to her briefly, he offered a small, apologetic smile. ‘I’m afraid I’m not much good company today.’