“So that’s it.” Henry offered his hand.
Jack gave it a firm shake staring into his half-brother’s eyes. Henry was a hard man to read but he appeared genuinely pleased at this arrangement and Jack was more than happy to go along with something that would see him on his own piece of land.
His legs straddled one of the benches that stretched either side of the huge table taking up most of the space in the big Smith’s Ridge living room. It was the only furniture that had been left in the house, probably too big to remove. He stood up, stretched and walked around the large room. The sound of his boots echoed on the wooden floor. It was cold away from the sunshine which poured through the windows. He’d need to get some wood and light a fire or he’d freeze tonight.
“You’ll have to find yourself a wife.” Henry stood up also. “They tell me it can get lonely out here, and cold at night.”
“Well I don’t imagine I’ll find a woman easily in these parts.” Jack gave a sardonic smile. “Unless the neighbours are friendly?”
It had been on the tip of Henry’s tongue to suggest there were plenty of natives in the area but he thought better of it.
“I’ve told you it’s important you keep to yourself. Make sure you prove your worth before you make any overtures to the neighbours. People in these parts have had trouble with natives. It’s best they don’t know your heritage until you’ve shown you’re trustworthy.”
“Settle down.” Jack spun to look at Henry. “I know what we arranged. I will see how it suits me.”
Henry met his gaze with a steady look of his own. “We have a signed agreement, brother.”
“Not worth the paper it’s written on.”
Surprise registered on Henry’s face.
At last Jack had managed to dislodge the mask. He grinned. “That would only be if we didn’t agree, of course.”
Henry turned away to pick up the papers. When he turned back his face was composed. “As long as we work together we will both benefit.”
“I am happy to accept your plan, for the moment.”
Jack watched as Henry folded the papers and slid them into the pocket of his jacket. When Henry had welcomed him as a long-lost brother, Jack had been suspicious, especially as Harriet had originally been so quick to try to be rid of him. But Henry had proved to be different. He had explained that while Jack was no relation to his mother, Henry and Jack were half-brothers, and he had been most welcoming. He’d said it had been his idea they take on Smith’s Ridge as partners. He’d also told Jack that he didn’t get on with the previous lessee, Joseph Baker, and Henry was concerned that if Joseph knew he and Jack were related he would make things tough for Jack.
Jack had laughed at that. He took no nonsense from anyone but he was prepared to go along with Henry for now.
“So my overseer and a shepherd will be here tomorrow?”
“Or the next day. There’s little feed on my Cradock property and the sheep are in poor condition. It could take Donovan and Brand a bit of time to move them.”
Jack watched Henry walk to the window and peer out.
“Well, let’s unload my cart.” Henry said. “I must return to Hawker. It will be dark before I get there.”
“Missing that pretty wife of yours?”
Henry turned to look at him, his expression unreadable. “Catherine does not like to be alone at night.”
“Well, she’ll have to be tonight.” Jack crossed the room to pick up his hat from the table. “I need help to unload the wagon. It will take us a while.”
Henry frowned. “Donovan and Brand can do that when they get here.”
“You’ve just said that could be days. I’m not sleeping on the floor. Besides your wife has your child and the delightful Mrs Nixon for company and we’ve got a nice pie of hers to share for our supper.”
“You know a lot about my family for a man who hasn’t met them.”
Jack tapped the side of his nose. “Blackfellas, we have a sixth sense.”
Henry glowered at him then gave a snort. “More like you slipped in to town from your camp last night and peered in through my windows.”
“Can’t blame a man for wanting to see how the other brother lives.” Jack pushed the hat firmly onto his head.
“I told you we cannot be seen to know each other and you must never come to my house again.”
“Worried people will find out about your bastard brother?”
“Not so much people as my wife or Mrs Nixon. They are close. What one sees the other soon knows and then my mother would find out.”
“I’m not scared of Harriet.”
“Neither am I but my business is tied to hers. If she finds out about our arrangement she could cut off the money.”
Jack’s eyes narrowed and he scratched at his chin. Harriet would surely wonder about the ease with which he had taken her money and left. Still, he’d go along with Henry. If it all fell apart he could go back to fleecing Harriet.
He smirked at Henry. “Blackmail works wonders with your mother.”
Henry looked him up and down. “But what would be the point of that when we can achieve our goals without her knowledge but with her money. My mother has always kept the purse strings tight. It took me some time to convince her this deal was a good one. If she thinks you’re involved that will be that.”
“Where does she think I’ve gone?”
“Gone?” Henry tugged at his collar, something Jack noticed he did from time to time to delay answering a question.
“She’s obviously convinced that whatever you’ve supposedly offered me has guaranteed my silence and my absence from her life.”
“I told her we spoke man to man—”
Jack laughed out loud and drew himself up. “I didn’t think Harriet was so gullible.”
“She’s not but I convinced her that you didn’t really want to be tied to Adelaide and that the payment she gave you would allow you to travel to America.” Henry glared at him. “Her utmost wish is that you won’t return from there.”
“So we are partners in deceiving your mother?”
“We are.”
Jack put his hands to his hips and tipped his head back a little. “Remind me once more what you will gain from this.”
“A property in this good country.”
“My property.”
“Eventually but for now we need each other. I’ve got stock that need feed and you have no stock nor the funds to buy any. Once you’ve got your own, mine should be fattened up enough for market. Then I will be looking for my own lease somewhere else in good grazing country.”
“You could have leased Smith’s Ridge yourself. Left me out of it.”
“Yes but that was before I discovered I had a brother who’s entitled to some kind of inheritance. Our father used to have this property. It’s only right that we get it back. I’m not a pastoralist. You’ve had experience on the land. Donovan is a good overseer and Brand has come with excellent references but I need someone here who can be my ears and eyes.” He paused and lifted his chin, his dark eyes locked on Jack’s. “My brother.”
“Well, brother, I need your help to move in. Think of it as some time for us to get to know each other before you leave me out here in the wilderness.”
“I’ll admit it’s isolated but hardly the wilderness.” Henry held his gaze a moment longer, indecision on his face then he grimaced. “Very well, I will stay but I must be gone early tomorrow morning.”
Henry lay in the bed that was to be Brand’s when he arrived. He curled himself under the layer of blankets trying to keep some warmth in his body and wished he was home tucked up next to Catherine. In spite of the chilly wind that blew up the valley he’d worked up a sweat unloading the wagon. Now he felt clammy. He couldn’t wait to get home to Hawker tomorrow and soak in the new bath they’d had installed.
It had taken the best part of the afternoon to unload the food, crockery and tools Henry had provided from the wagon and cart. Then there’d been the rou
gh assortment of furniture to place. Unbeknown to Jack, Harriet had supplied it. Some of the furniture Henry remembered from his childhood. Harriet must have been hoarding it somewhere. An old cupboard that held the dishes had been put in the kitchen with a small table and a couple of chairs. There were some old stuffed armchairs and even a chest that he recalled being in their house at Port Augusta. The beds and other pieces weren’t new but she had sourced them from somewhere. Harriet had been only too happy to ensure her plan to install Jack at Smith’s Ridge worked. It had amazed Henry how much money she had put forward. She must have had a nest egg stashed away. It rankled to think he didn’t know about it.
Henry rolled onto his back and thought about the man lying in the next room. Now that he was alone he could let down his guard. It had taken a lot of restraint to maintain a semblance of camaraderie with the man he resented calling brother. If the truth be known Henry resented Jack Aldridge for breathing the same air.
Their first meeting in Harriet’s backyard in Adelaide had been difficult. Henry had imagined some ignorant native he could easily bluff but Jack had been smarter than he’d imagined, a quick thinker, always on the alert. Henry had thought his plan may have been foiled before it had a chance to begin but he hadn’t reckoned with Jack’s obvious desire for family. Jack kept it hidden under his tough exterior but once Henry had found his weakness the fellow was putty in his hands.
After that it had been easy to convince Jack of his own excitement at the discovery of a brother and explain away Harriet’s abhorrence as natural for a woman who’d been hurt and wronged by her husband. She wasn’t prepared to accept Jack for now but Henry had told Jack he was hopeful she’d come around.
In the meantime he had this proposition: instead of working as a doorman for Harriet, Jack could be his own boss on a property. Henry could see straight away the idea appealed to the man who had been treated as second class most of his life. With some more money from Harriet, Jack had been happy to keep out of the way. Once Henry had secured the lease of Smith’s Ridge it had been easy then to get Jack to Hawker and then on to Smith’s Ridge.
Ellis Prosser was the only major sticking point. Henry had needed his help. Knowing Prosser’s extreme hatred of natives it had taken some thinking to come up with an idea to explain Jack’s presence and then even more work to sell it to Prosser. Henry had finally come up with the story that Jack’s mother had been Indian and Jack the result of a liaison with Catherine’s uncle who lived in India. Jack had an almost oriental look, after all.
Henry had explained the family felt they owed him something but didn’t want him close so they’d sent him to Australia. Jack was the pretend manager of Smith’s Ridge until such time as the family felt their debt was repaid and then he would be given a good reference and encouraged to move on. While Prosser was a bull-headed man he could also be charitable when the mood took him and since it was Henry who was asking, he was prepared to accept a coloured neighbour as long as it was only temporary. Henry had assured Prosser it was and that Henry would eventually take over Smith’s Ridge once Jack left.
Taking on the lease, paying Jack a handsome wage and employing a shepherd had cleaned out Henry and Harriet’s current resources so Prosser had loaned him his overseer, Donovan. It had been Prosser’s suggestion so that there would be someone at Smith’s Ridge to report back to him and thus to Henry.
Fatigue swept over him and he felt sleep closing in. All Henry had to do was hold together this web of deceit until such time as he could be free of Jack. He didn’t know how yet but it would happen. It had to.
Henry was up early the next morning, still tired after a restless night but eager to be on his way. He shared a mug of tea with Jack but declined the rabbit his half-brother had sizzling in the pan over the fire.
“I hope Brand and Donovan can cook.” Jack wasn’t in such fine humour this morning.
“Didn’t I tell you? Donovan has a wife.” Henry dragged on his thick outer coat. “She’s with them while they drove the sheep. She will see to the cooking once she arrives.”
“So that’s why Donovan wanted the hut up the back.” Jack’s face lit up with a lecherous look.
“You’ll do well to keep your thoughts to yourself. Donovan and his wife must be close to fifty.”
Jack wasn’t deterred. “Maybe they’ll have a daughter.”
Henry made for the door. He hoped Jack wouldn’t go causing trouble out here but there was no going back now. The plan was well and truly in motion.
The air was bitter outside the hut. Henry worked as quickly as his stiff fingers would allow to hook up his horse and cart. He drove the cart down to the front of the house. Jack came out to the verandah and leaned on the rail, two hands clasped casually in front of him, jacketless, oblivious to the cold.
Henry gave him a wave. “I’ll be back in a month with provisions and to see how things are going.”
“Stay the night again.” Jack called after him. “I enjoyed it.”
Henry gave the reins a flick and his cart lurched forward as the horse set off at a trot, with Jack’s laugh echoing behind him. He huddled in and gripped the reins tightly. Until he came up with a way to be rid of Aldridge, the foul man was close but out of sight.
Thirty-three
1886
Catherine closed the shop door and drew the bolt. She leaned against it a moment and gained her breath. The close heat of the interior made her feel light-headed.
When she turned, Malachi Hemming was coming from the room behind the curtain.
“I see no point in staying open a moment longer, Mr Hemming. It’s such a terrible day out there. There’s not a soul about and it’s nearly four o’clock.” She looked down at the dirt that had blown in as their last customer had departed a good hour before. Dirt was everywhere in Hawker. There had been no rain to speak of since the previous September and it was already May. Only yesterday two of her older customers had been talking of the Great Drought of the 1860s and saying the conditions were the same. Every time the wind blew, which was quite a regular occurrence over the last few months, it brought billowing clouds of dust with it, fine particles that seeped in everywhere. Rain was needed badly.
“If you’re sure, Mrs Wiltshire. I am happy to keep the shop open if you wish to go home early.”
“No.” Catherine crossed the floor to pick up the broom they kept permanently propped behind the counter. “You can have an early finish too.”
Malachi moved from one foot to the other.
Catherine knew he was worried about what Henry would think of closing over an hour early. Henry never closed early no matter what. “Mr Wiltshire won’t be home until tomorrow night at the earliest. In fact he could be away a few days. He’s gone to inspect Smith’s Ridge and take them some supplies.” She smiled at the young assistant. “I won’t tell him if you don’t.”
“But he will be back for the race meeting?”
“Oh yes. That’s still several days away.” Catherine began to push the broom across the floor. “Henry wouldn’t miss the annual Hawker races for anything.”
“I should very much like to see it one day.”
“Perhaps I will stay at the shop and you can go in my place, Mr Hemming. I find the whole affair noisy, dusty and very tedious.”
“Oh … well …” Once more Malachi shifted from foot to foot.
Catherine felt badly. She hadn’t meant to raise his hopes. “Perhaps not this year, Mr Hemming,” she said quickly, “but we must think on it for next.” Henry had already insisted on her having a new dress made at his mother’s shop in Adelaide. It should arrive any day on the train. “Now come, let’s finish up.”
“Very well, Mrs Wiltshire.” Malachi reached for the broom. “But please let me do the tidying up. You go home to Master Charles.”
“Thank you, Mr Hemming. I’m most grateful.” She handed over the broom. “I will see you in the morning.”
“I can open up in the morning.” He gave her a tiny smile. “No rush
for you to be here.”
Catherine let out a sigh. Her back ached from being on her feet all day. “Thank you again, Mr Hemming.” She went through to the back of the shop, tied on her bonnet and let herself out the kitchen door.
Immediately the heat and the dust enveloped her and then the flies found her. It really was a wretched day, she thought as she made her way along the path. She clasped her hand to her mouth as the stench from the privies that lined the back lane combined to overwhelm her. She hurried away towards the road that led to her house, careful where she put her feet. Several pigs roamed nearby and had left a foul trail of dung behind them.
At least the new stone wall Henry had had built around their yard kept unwanted animals from her garden, what there was left of it. The wrought-iron gate that had been inserted between two stone pillars was hot to her touch as she pushed it open. When Catherine finally reached the sanctuary of her home she was relieved that the temperature was quite a bit cooler inside and the air much cleaner. She removed her bonnet, undid the top buttons of her shirt and leaned against the wall, absorbing its coolness. The house was silent. No doubt Flora had taken Charles to her house once her children came home from school.
Catherine went to the kitchen, poured herself a mug of water and sat at the kitchen table. Even with the fire flickering in the grate it was still cooler in the kitchen than outside.
There was a thud at the door, laughter and footsteps. Flora’s children, Hugh and Martha, came into the room swinging Charles by the hand between them. They stopped abruptly at the sight of her.
Flora appeared behind them. “Oh, we weren’t expecting you home for another hour, Mrs Wiltshire.”
“Mama.” Charles squirmed from between the children and rushed to her open arms.
“Hello, my darling boy.” She planted a kiss on his chubby cheek. “I hope you’ve been good for Flora.”
“He’s an angel.” Flora put a hand each on her children and patted their shoulders. “You go home again now.”
“Oh, no.” Catherine knew Flora thought her children shouldn’t be in the house if the Wiltshires were at home. “Charles was having such fun with the children and I’m sure this house is cooler than yours, Flora. Let them stay.” She smiled at Flora’s son and daughter who were only a year apart in age and nearly the same height. Then she set Charles back on his sturdy legs. “Take Martha and Hugh to your bedroom, Charles. I am sure they could help you build a fine tower with the new building blocks Papa bought you.”
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