“Oh, that must have been awkward,” Sybil said. “Did you wait until Mr. Mason was free?”
“We were on the road and about to turn and leave, when he left the funeral to speak to us. I felt awful about it, but he asked us to go up to the house.”
“He’s not ill, obviously.”
“No, he didn’t even remember being ill, which was strange. But he must have so much on his mind.”
“Yes, I’m sure he has. He’ll have to settle any matters concerning his father’s estate, which must be considerable and complicated. And there’s the mine. He’ll have to take that over, and what an immense responsibility.”
Abbey turned to look out the window. In her mind, she could still see Heath standing on the rooftop, watching her leave Martindale. The image still bothered her.
“Is something wrong, Abbey? You look miles away,” Sybil remarked, wondering if mentioning the mine had reminded her of her father.
“I was just thinking about Mr. Mason,” Abbey said, distracted.
“Are you becoming fond of him?”
“I don’t know, but he claims to be very fond of me,” Abbey said, needing to confide in someone. “I just don’t know why.”
Sybil blinked in surprise. “That’s a strange thing to say, Abbey. You are a lovely young woman and very pretty. Any man would care for you.”
“Clementine pointed out that a man like him wouldn’t usually court someone who is not of his social standing, and I’m sure she’s right. I’m just a companion after all, a working member of this household, and that’s only because your son took pity on me.”
“If he thinks you are beautiful and kind, the fact that you are a companion won’t stop him wanting to court you, believe me. As for Clementine, I’ve heard whispers that she was once quite fond of Mr. Mason, so there’s probably a bit of jealousy fuelling her fire.”
Abbey thought about what Heath had said about Clementine, but she had no intention of repeating it. “He invited me up to the roof of the house,” she said. “The view was amazing.”
“The roof?! That sounds dangerous,” Sybil said with concern.
“It is flat and has railing all around it,” Abbey assured her. “It’s quite safe.” The expression on Heath’s face, as he had gazed at the ground from the roof, flashed through her mind, but she pushed it away.
“How romantic.” Sybil’s curiosity was aroused.
Abbey blushed. “Not really,” she said. “Actually, he became very intense. I was a bit frightened.”
Sybil smiled. “You are young, Abbey, but you’ll soon learn that young men are apt to become intense sometimes.” She didn’t want to frighten the girl by saying that it was amorous intent that usually caused them to become that way.
“I think something other than his feelings was affecting him,” she said, unable to explain his behaviour any other way. “I know he is probably in mourning, despite the fact that he and his father didn’t get along, but he was acting very strangely. I can’t describe it.” She involuntarily shuddered.
Sybil was concerned. “If you are afraid of him, Abbey, perhaps it would be wise to keep your distance. Who knows? Maybe there is a bit more of his father in him than we realise.”
Abbey didn’t think that Heath was very much like his father, but there was still something about him that scared her.
***
Half an hour later, Sybil and Abbey set out to take a basket of sandwiches to Jack and the others. They had agreed to meet in the shade under some trees behind the church at noon. Jack was boiling a kettle of tea for them all while the others were resting in the dry grass under the shady gum trees, waiting for Sybil with their promised lunch, and she was late. They could have gone to the house for lunch, but they were dirty and sweaty.
Jack smiled when he saw Abbey coming towards him with his mother. As soon as she was close enough, he introduced her to William and Tom.
The first thing Abbey noticed was that Jack and his brothers were all very different. William had very dark hair and was tall and lean. He appeared shy as he stood to greet her, while Tom was much shorter and more muscular. He was also far more outgoing.
“Mother, you didn’t tell me you’d hired such a pretty companion,” Tom said. “I’ve only just learned about it from Jack.”
Sybil elbowed Abbey, alluding to their earlier conversation, and Abbey squirmed and blushed, wondering if Jack had told his brother that she was pretty.
“I haven’t seen you to tell you, have I?” Sybil said defensively. “And that’s because you rarely visit me,” she mockingly scolded her youngest son.
“Point taken, Mother. I’ll be visiting you more in the future.” He gave Abbey a cheeky grin, and her blush deepened. Out of the corner of her eye, Abbey noted that Jack was giving his brother a reproachful look for being so openly flirtatious.
“I’m sorry I’m late,” Sybil said. “But the ham seems to have disappeared, and I’ve been arguing with Sabu about it.”
“So, what’ve we got for lunch?” Jack asked. They were all ravenous, so it really didn’t matter.
“Eggs sandwiches, I’m afraid,” Sybil said, passing them around.
“How can the ham have disappeared?” Jack asked, biting hungrily into his sandwich.
“That’s what I wanted to know. Sabu claims that dog of yours, Max, stole it.”
Jack smiled sheepishly.
“It isn’t funny,” Sybil chided. “I’m going to shoot him if I see him in the house again.”
“You’d better not. He’s my best working dog,” Jack said soberly.
“If he’s so good, maybe you should feed him more.” Sybil looked at William. “How is Martha?”
“She’s quite well, Mother,” he said. “But she’s quite far along now, so the heat is affecting her.”
“I’m sure it is. Everything swells in this heat, especially my ankles if I don’t keep my feet elevated. She’s only got a few weeks more weeks, hasn’t she?”
“Yes, about three weeks,” William said, clearly looking forward to being a father for the first time.
“Abbey would like to meet Martha, so we’ll be visiting some afternoon soon,” Sybil said. “Abbey suggested we take some tea over.”
“Martha would like that,” William said. “I think she gets lonely and a bit frightened when I’m away from the house.”
Jack looked surprised. “Why is she frightened?”
William momentarily hesitated with his answer. “We’ve had a bit of trouble with Aboriginal intruders lately.”
Jack frowned. “Why didn’t you say something? I see you every other day, and you’ve not mentioned any trouble.”
William shrugged. “You already have too many responsibilities, and I’ve been able to handle them. I’ve chased them off with my rifle, but sometimes they come around the house during the night. With that and the baby coming soon, we are not getting much sleep, and Martha is quite tense and anxious.”
“She can stay with us at Bungaree if she wants to,” Sybil suggested helpfully. “It might be a good idea for when the baby comes.”
“Thank you for the offer, Mother, but Martha prefers to be in her own house.”
The group was distracted by someone galloping up the road towards the house. Jack stood up to see who it was, then shouted to get the rider’s attention and waved. The man headed towards them.
“Are you looking for someone, mate?” Jack called before he recognised their visitor. “Oh, it’s Lance Buckingham,” he said, smiling. Lance was a stablehand in Clare.
“Good afternoon, Mr. Hawker,” Lance called, dismounting. He also greeted the others.
“Is something wrong?” Jack asked. Judging by the serious expression on his face, Jack suspected his visit was not social.
“I’m afraid so. Miss Feeble asked me to come out,” Lance said, short of breath from
riding so hard.
“Why? Is something wrong?”
“There was a fire in town last night. It started in Miss Feeble’s house and spread to her store,” Lance said.
The group gasped in shock.
“Is Clementine all right?” Jack asked, afraid of the answer.
“She survived, but she was quite ill from the smoke. If it hadn’t been for her father, she would have been killed in the fire. He is quite a hero. Miss Feeble wants to see you. Can you come back with me?”
“Of course,” Jack said. “Does anyone know what caused the fire?”
“No.” Lance shook his head. “Ralph Feeble thinks a spark from her cooking fire may have caught on some garments she was working on in the kitchen.”
“Do you have to go now, Jack?” Tom asked resentfully. “If Clementine is all right, you could go later. We’ve so much to do.”
“You can manage here for a few hours without me,” Jack said, annoyed at Tom’s attitude.
Tom didn’t look happy, Abbey noted, but he pressed his lips together and said nothing.
As Jack headed towards the stables, Sybil called to him. “Give Clementine and her father our best wishes.”
***
Sybil and Abbey stood talking to William and Tom for a few minutes after Jack had gone, but Tom soon started grumbling about why Jack had to run to Clementine’s aid.
“It’s only natural that she’d want to see him,” Sybil explained. “Surely you understand that, son.”
“There’s nothing he can do for her this afternoon, so he may as well have kept digging with us.”
“Don’t be heartless, Tom. You’ve waited for the bore this long, so what difference is an extra day going to make?”
“It makes all the difference when my cattle are thirsty, Mother, and I have to keep carting water to them from my well. It hasn’t rained for months. I also need water to grow feed for them. Meanwhile Jack’s sheep are well watered and fed.”
“Jack will always share what feed he can grow, Tom.”
“Perhaps I’m fed up with being a charity case, Mother. I want to stand on my own two feet, and I’ll be able to do that if I have my own water supply.”
“And you will, soon,” Sybil said, a little taken aback by Tom’s resentment of his brother.
Tom said nothing, but Abbey noticed the grim expression on his face.
“How do the cattle go on without feed?” she asked Sybil as they turned to walk back to the house.
“Jack allows the cattle to graze on Bungaree land, and they keep moving them around. Jack also grows some feed, which he shares with his brothers. Having their own bores will sure help William and Tom. It will make watering their stock so much easier. Carting water from the well to animal troughs is back-breaking, labourious work, and they can’t keep driving the stock to Bungaree to feed.” She’d often noted Tom’s resentment of Jack, but had never brought it up for fear of causing trouble between her sons.
Suddenly something whooshed through the air. Sybil and Abbey turned around and saw Tom falling to the ground. A second later a spear landed at Abbey’s feet. She jumped and screamed in surprise.
“Tom,” Sybil shouted and went to run to his side, but instinctively Abbey pulled her towards a large tree, as Father Quinlan and Elias dropped to the ground, calling for them to take cover.
In an instant, William retrieved his rifle, which was lying about six feet from where he had been sitting in the grass. He dropped to the ground and fired towards some trees that lined the road. The shots rang through the air, shattering the peaceful quiet of the countryside. Birds took flight, and their assailants began yelling. Another spear flew through the air, striking the tree that Abbey and Sybil were hiding behind. The thud it made terrified them, and they began screaming.
After William had reloaded his rifle and fired several more shots, a group of about five Aboriginal men ran, using the trees for cover. They scampered across the road and disappeared.
“Tom! Are you all right?” William dashed to his brother’s side when he thought it was safe. Tom was writhing in pain.
“My … arm,” Tom cried. His shirt-sleeve was stained bright red with blood, which was oozing from between his fingers.
Tearing the shirt-sleeve off, William examined the wound with Father Quinlan by his side. Elias took the rifle and kept watch. “It’s not too serious,” they agreed. “It’s only a flesh wound.” The spear had sliced his arm before landing on the ground near Abbey.
Abbey and Sybil peered from behind the tree, both shaking.
“Tom, are you hurt?” Sybil asked, terrified for her son. Seeing William and Father Quinlan by his side, she ran to him with tears streaming down her face.
“I’ll live, Mother,” Tom said through clenched teeth. He sat up. “Bloody bastards. Did you shoot any of them, William?”
“I don’t think so. They were well-hidden in the trees.”
“Elias, get Tom up to the house,” Sybil ordered. “I’ll have to clean and bandage his wound.”
Abbey had turned pale with fright. She felt helpless and wished Jack were with them. She always felt safe whenever he was around.
“Do you know where Clementine is now?” Jack asked, as he and Lance Buckingham stood with a handful of spectators in front of the remains of her shop and residence, inhaling the acrid smell of smoke that still hung in the air. The shop was at the end of the main street. Because of hard work and a quick response time, the other buildings nearby had been spared from the flames. Lance had dramatically recounted the efforts of local shopkeepers who lived on or near their own premises, and who had fought the fire with buckets of water until the fire carriage had arrived. Clementine’s shingled roof was partially missing towards the rear, and the inner and outer walls were charred or smoke-damaged. Most of the damage was at the rear of Clementine’s home, but the fire had obviously spread to the attached shop alongside via a peppercorn tree that had once overhung the house. There was not much left of it now but a blackened trunk and branches where there had once been fine green leaves and red berries.
“Miss Feeble and her father are with the McKenzies at the Railway Hotel. Mrs. McKenzie is taking good care of them,” Lance said.
Jack’s friend, Mike McKenzie, was the publican, and Molly was his wife. They were in their late fifties with adult children. One son had gone to Queensland to try his luck in the latest gold strike, and the other had a carting business between Burra and the Kapunda copper mines.
Jack headed for the hotel. He found Mike in the bar, where the fire was the sole topic of conversation. Mike told Jack that Clementine and her father were having tea in the kitchen with Molly.
“I’ve just seen Clementine’s house,” Jack said in shock. “She and her father were very lucky to get out alive. Do you know what happened?”
“Miss Feeble told Molly she was working late at the kitchen table, sewing some garments that Cristina Westgate wanted urgently, when she fell asleep. She remembers waking up around midnight and going to bed without putting the fireguard in front of the fire. An ember from the fire must have shot out and caught on the garments she left on the table. Her father was asleep, but the smoke woke him, and he got up to find the kitchen already aflame. Miss Feeble’s room was closer to the kitchen, and she was already overcome with smoke. If he hadn’t gotten to her and dragged her outside, she wouldn’t be here now.”
Jack paled at the thought of her perishing in such a way. He headed for the kitchen.
“Clementine,” Jack said from the doorway. “I came as soon as I got word. How are you?” She appeared understandably shaken, and her normally flawless appearance was marred by singed hair and black smudges on her face. Her gown was in a dismal state.
“Oh, Jack,” Clementine said, standing and stumbling into his open arms. “I thought I was going to die,” she sobbed. Her voice was raspy from coughing
, and her hair smelt of smoke.
“Have you seen a doctor?” Jack asked, searching her smudged red face for burns.
Clementine nodded. Jack looked over her shoulder at her father, hunched over the kitchen table with his right hand and arm bandaged. “How are you, sir?” he asked. He could see Clementine’s father was in pain, and there was a glass of brandy beside his tea.
“I’m just grateful I was there to save my girl,” Ralph said, his voice affected by emotion and smoke. He was in his late sixties, but still quite fit for his years. His face turned a terrible shade of white as he imagined a far different outcome to the previous night. Nearly losing his daughter had brought back painful memories of her mother’s death. She had drowned in a flooded creek near their home in Victoria. A neighbour’s child had wandered near the water, and Beth had saved her, but she had slipped into the creek herself, where she was swept away. It had taken a search party four days to find her body, many miles away.
“Father’s hand and arm are badly burned,” Clementine said, fighting a flood of tears. Obviously, they were both in shock. “He had to push burning beams aside just to get us out of the house,” she said.
“It’s not that bad, Clemmie,” Ralph said reassuringly, but his voice was strained. He didn’t want her to know how painful his burns really were, but she wasn’t fooled.
“I insist you both come back to Bungaree as my guests,” Jack said. “Your house won’t be habitable for quite some time, and it doesn’t look like you will have anywhere to work, either. The doctor in town will come out to the station when necessary.”
“Oh, Jack, that’s a thoughtful offer,” Clementine said, relieved. Mrs. McKenzie had offered them rooms at the hotel, but they weren’t very comfortable. She had been hoping Jack would ask them to stay at Bungaree, but given how busy he was, Clementine hadn’t even been sure he’d come to town to see her.
“We wouldn’t like to impose,” Ralph said. He was a proud man and hated being the benefactor of charity.
“Nonsense, let’s get your things.” Jack suddenly had a terrible thought. “Have you been able to salvage any of your belongings?”
Shadows in the Valley Page 25