“Some but I’ve built a yard with wire and rocks. It has deterred predators.”
“Would you tell me how?”
Millie heard a click of Jack’s tongue. “I could but—”
“Why don’t you two go round to the outdoor room and chat?” Millie cut Jack off and hoped William’s presence was enough to deter him from following her. “I will make us a pot of tea.”
She watched Jack’s shoulders rise as he took a deep breath.
“Thanks, Mr Aldridge.” William stepped back from the gate as if expecting Jack to follow him.
Jack’s hand clenched at his side. He turned back to Millie, his jaw set, his dark eyes narrowed. He studied her a moment then his charming grin returned. He gave Millie a slight nod. “We shall look forward to your company.”
Millie let out the breath she’d been holding and hurried inside. Her hands shook as she moved the kettle over the fire and added more wood. Usually there was someone else nearby. This was the first time she’d felt truly frightened since Joseph had left. How she wished he would give up trying to find gold and come home.
She laid out a tray with three cups and the tea things. There were some pikelets left from the breakfast she’d cooked that morning. She added them to the tray with a small pot of jam and carried it through the house and out across the verandah.
William sat a little way from Jack, the gun propped beside him. Millie’s heart went out to the boy. She recognised the rifle as one Joseph kept at the quarters. William rarely carried a gun but he did know how to use it. Jack was quickly on his feet and hurrying towards her as if he’d been watching for her. He placed his big hands over hers and leaned closer.
“Let me take that for you,” he murmured.
Millie tried to extract her hands but she couldn’t. They were trapped underneath Jack’s and if she struggled the tray would tip. He smiled and eased his grip so she could pull away.
He fell into step beside her and placed the tray on the outside table.
“Mr Aldridge has some good ideas for keeping the hens safe.” William maintained his seat slightly apart from Millie and Jack.
“That’s good.” Millie poured the tea. A breeze had sprung up from the gully disturbing the branches that cast some shade over them.
Jack remained standing even after she had passed him his tea and offered the plate of pikelets. There was an awkward silence and finally Millie sat. Jack lowered himself to the seat next to her. She wished he would leave. It was worrying, him being here and William seated with the gun close by. To her it was obvious he was on guard but she wondered if Jack realised that’s what he was doing.
“It’s so good to taste a woman’s cooking.” Jack licked the jam from his fingers slowly, watching Millie as he did.
“Someone’s coming.” William leapt to his feet.
Millie heard Jack mutter under his breath as they both turned to look in the direction William was pointing. It was the track that led in the direction of Hawker.
“It’s a cart.” William climbed a little way up the trunk of the tree. “It’s Grandpa.”
Millie felt a flood of relief wash over her.
“They’re back early.” William jumped from the tree and came to stand beside Millie.
“They weren’t absolutely sure how long they’d be.” Millie gave Jack a self-assured look now that she knew help was on its way.
As the wagon drew closer they could see the younger children waving. There was no sign of Lizzie. It wouldn’t surprise Millie if she’d stayed on in Port Augusta to be with Ellen.
“Hello, hello.” Esther’s voice was loud above the others.
Thomas gave them a brief wave and drove the cart right to the front steps of the house.
Millie hurried towards him. She could tell by the look on his face something was wrong. A hacking cough echoed from the cart and Lizzie’s head appeared as she struggled to sit up, one hand clasped to her mouth.
“Lizzie’s sick again.” Thomas climbed down from the cart and William helped his sisters and brother down from the other side.
“Don’t fuss, Thomas.” Lizzie’s voice was a weak rasp.
Millie went straight to the back of the cart to open the end. Her mother-in-law was prone to coughs and had been laid low several times already this year.
“I wanted her to stay in Port Augusta and go to the doctor but she insisted I bring her home.”
“It was too much, all of us in Ellen’s house.” Lizzie’s words were followed by another bout of coughing.
Millie and Thomas helped her to the edge of the cart. Jack came to join them. “Let me carry you inside, Mrs Baker.”
He slid his arms beneath her before she could protest. Millie hated to see Lizzie in his arms but Thomas looked exhausted and Jack was a strong man.
“I’ll take care of the horses, Grandpa.” William took the reins and once everyone was clear led the horses and cart away.
Millie hugged the younger children. Violet seemed to have filled out since they’d been away. She was eleven and such a sensible, helpful girl.
“There are pikelets on a plate in the kitchen.” Millie smiled at the three young faces looking at her with such trust. She had grown to love Joseph’s children as if they were her own. She knew they felt the same way about her. “Violet, can you get some for everyone while I help your grandmother?” Millie gave the young girl’s shoulder a quick squeeze then led the way up the steps and into the front bedroom where Jack had laid Lizzie carefully on the bed.
“Thank you, Jack.” Lizzie smiled briefly.
“I came over to see how everyone was.” Jack patted Lizzie’s hand. “It must be difficult with your son away.”
“You’re very kind, Jack.”
Millie clenched her teeth together. Now that she observed him through clearer eyes she could see how easily he charmed people.
“Thank you for your help.” Millie propelled him firmly to the door and he let her, encasing her hand, clasping her elbow with his. Once more he gave her a bold grin. She pulled her arm away and shut the door firmly between them. Lizzie’s terrible cough drew Millie’s attention and she immediately dismissed Jack Aldridge from her thoughts as she rushed to her mother-in-law’s side.
Millie couldn’t help but be concerned at the dark shadows under Lizzie’s eyes and the sheen of perspiration on her pale forehead.
“How long have you been like this?”
Lizzie flapped a hand. “Several days.” Her hand flopped back to the bed as if even that had been too hard. She tried to smile. “Now that I’m home I’ll be better in two shakes of a lamb’s—” Once more the coughing brought a pained expression to her face.
Millie didn’t like the sound of her cough. She thought about some of the remedies she had learned in her childhood. The smoking leaves had assisted Lizzie in the past but she might need something more this time. Millie smiled to herself. If only her father knew. Yardu had badly wanted her to know her own culture better. He thought she was completely alienated from it but there was still so much she remembered and understood about her native upbringing.
Thomas came into the room and sat on the other side of the bed. He took Lizzie’s hand and kissed it. Millie’s heart melted at the love and concern that mingled in his look.
“You’re home now, my dear Lizzie. Rest and get better.”
“I will, Thomas.” Lizzie’s eyes closed. A smile played on her lips.
Millie took a step back. “I’m going to make some special medicine.”
Lizzie groaned but she didn’t open her eyes. “Not that foul-smelling leaf again.”
“You said it helped last time.” Thomas patted her hand then looked up at Millie. “Jack is waiting in the front room. He wanted to say goodbye.”
Millie pressed her fingers into her palms. She’d forgotten about Jack. “I won’t be long.” Millie would send Jack on his way and set off to collect the leaves and branches she needed for her smoke and medicine. “Perhaps Mother Baker should get out of those clothes an
d under the covers.”
Lizzie groaned again.
“Millie’s right.” Thomas slid an arm under Lizzie to sit her up. “I’ll help you.”
Millie watched as Lizzie’s grey face creased in pain. The older woman looked so thin in her husband’s arms. Lizzie had had coughs before but this time she appeared much worse. Thomas looked so worried. If only Joseph was here. Millie felt the burden of his family’s dependence on her. She longed for his touch, for the gaze of love like she’d just witnessed between Lizzie and Thomas.
She took a deep breath, let herself out of the bedroom and closed the door softly. To her annoyance Jack sat in Joseph’s comfortable chair as casually as if he belonged in it. He was playing knuckles with Robert and Esther.
Millie moved to the middle of the room and steeled herself. “Thank you for your assistance, Mr Aldridge, but we all have jobs to do now. Robert, you must bring me in some more wood and Esther, you can help Violet unpack the trunk.” She was aware she sounded abrupt but she didn’t care. There was much to do and she wanted to be rid of the man who made her feel so uneasy.
Esther opened her mouth to complain. Millie clapped her hands.
“Now children, quickly. Your grandmother is unwell and we all need to do our bit to help her get better.” Millie surprised herself by her sharp tone. She rarely spoke that way to anyone let alone the little ones.
“Goodbye, Mr Aldridge.” Dear little Robert was quick to do as she bid but Esther gave her a sulky look before turning on her heel and marching from the room.
Jack unfurled himself from the chair but stayed where he was, studying her with his brash gaze. “Are you sure there’s nothing more I can do to help?”
“No.”
He took a step towards her.
“Good day, Mr Aldridge.” Millie crossed the room to the kitchen door and turned back. He still watched her then he gave a smirk and a nod, collected his hat and left by the front door. Millie stared at the back of the wooden door he’d closed behind him. From the bedroom the sound of coughing reminded her she had work to do. Once more she dismissed Jack Aldridge from her mind and set off in search of the leaves she needed to boil for Lizzie’s medicine.
Forty-one
Henry strode through the Smith’s Ridge house, opening doors and peering into corners. Jack’s bedding was pulled up and the rest of the place was relatively tidy even though covered in dust. Jack was obviously still managing without a housekeeper. With only a small amount of furniture and a couple of cupboards there were few places for Henry to examine in search of anything that might give him some leverage over Jack. It rankled that after all this time he could still find no chink in his half-brother’s facade that would give some insight into the man.
Henry shut the bedroom door and went back to the kitchen. He poked at the fire. It was stone cold. Jack must have been gone a while. Perhaps to see Brand who lived in the hilly country at the back of Smith’s Ridge with their remaining stock.
Jack seemed to think they were in relatively good condition. Henry wondered how much he would get for those last few sheep. His finances were stretched in every direction and he had made up his mind to quit Smith’s Ridge. The last person he wanted to take it over was Jack but as no way had shown itself to be rid of his half-brother, Henry had little choice.
Now that he was an elected councillor on the newly formed Hawker District Council his good name and reputation were paramount. Jack was a liability whom Henry needed to distance himself from but with great care. Henry had been so sure he’d find a way to rid himself of Jack but no plan had shown itself and Jack had settled well to life at Smith’s Ridge.
There was a small pile of kindling in the wood box by the fireplace. Henry set a new fire and struck a match, watching until the larger sticks caught. He set the kettle over it and he went out to begin unloading the supplies he’d brought with him.
Outside the April day was warm in spite of the large clouds that blotted out the sun and gave the day a grey appearance. After the first two trips he took off his jacket and hung it on the hook in the kitchen before going back for the next load. Damn Jack’s absence. Henry would very much like to leave the supplies and go again but he needed to have a talk with Jack so he would have to await his return.
Henry stacked everything just inside the back door. Jack could put it away. Finally the wagon was unloaded and Henry sat at the large table with a mug of tea and a slice of Flora’s egg-and-bacon pie. The delectable Flora had made an extra one for his journey.
Her wage was another drain on his dwindling finances but he couldn’t be without Flora to take to bed when Catherine was always so lacking interest in that department. His wife was in Adelaide having a holiday with her family. She had recently lost another baby, the fourth since Charles. Catherine was so fragile these days he wondered how she’d managed to produce their strapping, healthy son, who at six years of age was the image of Henry.
He was so proud of his son. Charles was a quick learner and already showing a keen interest in the business. He hadn’t wanted to go with his mother to Adelaide but Henry had insisted. He was happy for his son to learn the more genteel manners and sensibilities his wife’s family could offer and he knew Harriet would be pleased to see her grandson.
The sun came out from behind the clouds, lighting the gloomy day. Henry looked past the ragged curtains through the windows that hadn’t been cleaned in some time. It was nothing in comparison to the home he’d built in Hawker but this house had seemed much grander when he’d taken over the property. Word was that the arrogant Joseph Baker had fallen on such hard times he’d left his family at Wildu Creek in search of gold, and hadn’t returned.
Henry thought those who chased silver and gold were often fools with little to show for their efforts but the increased traffic through Hawker had been of benefit to his shop. Hawker continued to go ahead in spite of the poor seasons and the lack of rain. The governor had finally allowed them to form a council and Henry was proud to be one of those appointed.
Now that he was a councillor they would have to do more entertaining, another reason he needed Flora Nixon’s services. Catherine would never cope alone with cooking dinner for a large party.
He took another mouthful of the pie and glanced at a newspaper open on the table. It was an old copy of the Port Augusta Dispatch where there were several reports regarding the business of the new Hawker District Council, the names of the councillors including his, and reports of their latest meeting. Henry cast a look over it while he ate. He had hoped to keep his new position from Jack but there was no chance of that.
Once more he glanced out the window and this time he saw a rider heading towards the house. The horse and man were idling along in no great hurry. It was Jack. Henry stood and peered closer as the horse went past the front of the house. Jack was well dressed for someone who should be out working.
Henry collected his plate and mug and carried them back to the kitchen and let himself out the back door. Jack had stopped his horse beside Henry’s cart and turned when he heard the door.
“Well, well, well, a visitor.” Jack slid from his horse and tethered it near the gate. “What brings you all the way to Smith’s Ridge, dear brother?”
Henry winced at the words but reassured himself there was no-one out here to hear them. “Supplies.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’ve been waiting a while so I’ve unloaded them.” He took in Jack’s good white shirt under a chocolate-brown jacket and his clean moleskin trousers. “Where have you been?”
Jack was approaching him along the stony path. “Keeping busy.” He gave Henry a laconic smile and walked past him to the door. “I hope you’ve got something good to eat amongst those supplies.”
“I think you’ll be pleased.” Henry followed Jack inside. While he looked like a man who’d been in the saddle a while he didn’t look like a man who’d been working. “How are the remaining sheep?”
“As well as can be expected, I assume.” Jack lather
ed his hands with soap then splashed water on his face and patted it dry with a cloth. “I haven’t been to see Brand for a few weeks. Now that you’ve come I can go and check on him and take him some supplies.”
Henry watched Jack sweep his thick black hair back from his forehead. He was a good-looking man in spite of his dark skin. It was a wonder he had no woman of his own. Still that was the last thing Henry needed to worry about. There were more pressing concerns.
“I think we should sell the remaining sheep. Destock the place completely until it rains.”
Jack glared at him. “That would be short-sighted. Brand is camped near permanent water. He’s keeping some breeding stock alive.”
“You said you hadn’t seen him for weeks.”
“That’s because I have to maintain the rest of the property alone. There are fences and buildings that need work and even though we have no stock on the lower country there are still native animals that get caught in fences or in the mud at the last of the waterholes. Brand does his job and I do mine.”
“You look very clean for someone who’s been doing all that.”
Jack tossed the cloth aside and stared hard at Henry. “What’s brought this on? It’s my job to manage Smith’s Ridge and I’ve been doing it.”
“Well, I can’t afford you any longer. If you want to keep Smith’s Ridge you’ll have to take over the lease and Brand’s wage.”
Jack’s hand flashed out and grabbed Henry by the throat before he had the chance to back away. Jack shoved him hard against the warm tin of the back wall and pinned him there. Henry panicked at the tight grip around his throat and pushed at Jack but he had little effect.
Jack leaned in. Henry could smell his sweat and the odour of horse.
“You have to afford me.” Jack pressed him harder. “Unless of course you want your friends at Hawker to know that Councillor Wiltshire has a brother with black blood.”
Henry tried to suck in a breath through his nose. Jack’s grip on his throat was like a vice. His brother glared at him, his dark eyes glittering with malice.
“I heard about your fancy dinner celebration.” Jack pulled a sad face. “No invitation for me.”
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