Jewel In the North

by Tricia Stringer

  “We can clean him up. I’ll send word for Millie to come to us.”

  “All right.” Clem moved to lead his horse on.

  “Wait,” William said. “Why don’t you ride with him? We can move a little quicker at least and you can keep the flies off him.”

  “I tried that.” Clem shook his head. “Albie screamed as soon as I got up behind. He can’t bear anything to touch his wounds. I draped my shirt over him but even that made him shriek.”

  William rubbed at his eyes. They needed to get Albie home quickly. “We’ll have to tie him to the horse, cover his back—”

  Clem protested but William cut him off. “We have to, Clem. Then you can ride with me. We’ll get back to the homestead quicker.”

  Clem hesitated.

  Albie groaned.

  “Come on, we’ve no time to waste.”

  Clem nodded and pulled his already bloodied shirt from his saddle bag. William took some rope from his and together, despite Albie’s agonised moans, they secured the man to the horse. William was thankful he was riding Big Red. He was a large horse, used to stock work. William had perched orphaned newborn calves across the saddle with him before. Clem was strong but slight of build; Big Red would be able to bear them both home.

  Two days later they all sat around the table. The mood was sombre. Albie was sleeping after the care of Millie and her assistant, Jessie. Hegarty was still away.

  “Albie’s wounds are many,” Millie said. “He’s been beaten as well as whipped, and lost some teeth. There are most likely other injuries but he can hardly stand the washing and healing treatment I’ve done already. I can do no more until he’s rested.” She clutched the sleeping Matthew to her chest. Her normally happy eyes brimmed with tears.

  “You’ve done what you could for him, Millie.” William reached up and placed his hand on hers. “Clem and I both agreed you were his best chance.”

  “I hope it’s enough.”

  There had only been Robert, Millie and the young children at home when William had ridden to Wildu Creek. Millie had gathered whatever she thought she’d need and left the little girls with their adoring stepbrother. Robert would take good care of them and Joseph was expected home that night. With the baby sleeping in a temporary bed, an old crate William had found, Millie had done her best to tend Albie’s wounds.

  While he had been kept awake by the agony of his injuries he’d told them what had happened between gasps of pain. His money was all gone and he’d gone back to Prosser’s Run to ask for his old job back. The evil man — Albie rolled his one open eye every time he mentioned Prosser — had set his men to beat the shepherd and Prosser had finished with his whip. Albie wailed all over again at the recollection and the pain of Millie attending his wounds. He’d been sleeping for the last few hours, much to everyone’s relief. They had endured their own agony listening to his distress.

  Clem, who had only just sat down after pacing the floor, sprang to his feet again. “I’m going off for a while.”

  “Where?” A worried look creased Jessie’s face.

  “Prosser can’t get away with this.”

  “You’re going to the police?” Millie’s tone was incredulous.

  “No. Prosser’s a big name. They’ll sweep it under the carpet.” Clem crossed to the door and reached for the stock whip that hung on one of the row of hooks beside it. “I’m going to give him a taste of what he dished out.”

  Jessie and Millie both jumped up and Matthew, jolted from sleep, began to cry.

  “No, Clem,” Jessie pleaded. “There are many men at Prosser’s Run. They will do the same to you.”

  “I must, Jessie.” Clem cast a bitter look at William, who was still seated. “They cannot get away with nearly killing a man.”

  William drew in a breath. He had been thinking about what he should do since they’d first brought Albie home. Clem had a point but the current constable in Hawker was a sensible man. William stood so they were all now upright, even Matthew, who Millie was jiggling over her shoulder.

  “You must ride to Hawker, Clem. Tell the constable where you found Albie and what happened.”

  Clem’s dark eyes glittered. “I’m going to Prosser’s Run.”

  “No.” William crossed the room to stand beside Clem. “I’ll go and see Prosser.”

  “Your friend.” Clem spat the words. “What will you say to him? Good job, Ellis. You’ve beaten a defenceless man nearly to death.”

  William was speechless at the venom in Clem’s words. It was hard to believe he thought William would defend such a cowardly and malicious act.

  “No-one should go there.” Millie spoke firmly. “Let the police deal with that man.”

  William was still looking at Clem. “I will let Prosser know he can’t get away with what he’s done.”

  “He will be terrified.” Clem put his hands to his hips and laughed. It was a bitter sound.

  “Stop, please Clem.” Tears rolled down Jessie’s cheeks.

  A moaning sound came from the bedroom where they had left Albie to rest.

  Millie gripped Matthew tightly and crossed the room. “William, you must go to Hawker. Report to the constable and then see if the doctor can come back here with you. I don’t think Albie would survive the cart ride to town.” She turned to Clem. “You will stay here. I don’t like it being only Jessie and me here and I need strong hands to help me with Albie.”

  Clem stared at Millie, whose stance was determined.

  “Ellis Prosser has a nasty temper and he’s unpredictable.” She waved her hand towards the bedroom. “Albie’s wounds are testament to that.”

  “Please, Clem.” Jessie came and took his hand.

  He looked from her back to William.

  “Millie’s right.” William felt the fight slip out of him. What would he have done when he got to Prosser’s Run? Ellis Prosser would have laughed in his face and there was nothing William could have done about it. “We should tell the constable. He can come this way and see Albie’s wounds for himself. Ellis Prosser will receive what he deserves.”

  Clem gave a snort but Jessie continued to grip his hand firmly. Millie stood ramrod straight beside them. William took his hat from the hook and pushed it firmly onto his head. At the door he turned back. They all watched him. Once more anger at the despicable actions of Ellis Prosser rose within him like hot lava. They were his responsibility. He snatched the rifle from the wall above the door. At the same time Albie’s wails grew louder.

  “William!” Millie’s call was sharp. “Go to Hawker and bring back the doctor. Nothing good will come of seeking vengeance now.” Her voice wavered. “Please.”

  William remembered the night when he and his father had sought revenge on Jack Aldridge. Henry Wiltshire had been there — Jack was his half-brother. It had been a terrible time. Jack had been living at Smith’s Ridge then and William had ridden over planning to kill him for his torment of Millie and their family. It had not been so easy to pull the trigger on a man in cold blood, but thankfully the storm had done it for him. Jack had been struck by lightning and died. It had been a terrifying incident. Once more he gave thought to Ellis Prosser, father of the woman he loved. What should he do? He could confront Prosser, but then what?

  He turned back to Millie, took in her trusting look, then strode outside into the brilliant sunlight of the hot December morning to get his horse. There would be time later to deal with Prosser but right now there were more urgent issues.

  Eleven

  Edith took the hand Charles offered as she stepped down from the train.

  “Here we are at last.” Charles waved grandly in the direction of the sprawl of buildings. “The thriving town of Hawker.”

  Edith blinked. Dust blew along the platform and mixed with the clouds of smoke billowing from the train. The heat from sun and wind was like stepping into a furnace. She was gratified to see that Hawker had an impressive railway station at least, and she had noted several other solid establishments as th
e train pulled in.

  Prior to their arrival she had been beginning to doubt her decision to travel to Hawker for work. It had been interminably hot and stuffy in the carriage during the last part of the journey across desolate plains. Hawker was not quite what she’d call an oasis, but buildings, trees and streets busy with people, horses and carts gave an air of business. Unfortunately, all this motion stirred up the dust even more.

  “It’s certainly industrious.” Edith adjusted her hat and brushed down her skirt. She was thankful she’d worn her one pale blue shirt over her grey skirt. After the close confines of the carriage where perspiration slipped into every crevice of her body these clothes were least likely to show the dirt that surely clung to her now.

  “Ah, here’s Father with our transport.” Charles took her arm with one hand and gave a big wave towards a man in a dark suit alighting from a cart.

  Edith took a deep breath. Charles had defended her against his grandmother and offered her this job. She could have made more of a fuss but it suited her to move away from the city. She had reinvented herself once already when she’d moved to Adelaide. This was an opportunity to begin again and leave Edie Jamieson and her tawdry past behind forever.

  Father and son hugged each other while she waited. There was obviously great affection between them and Edith felt a pang of jealousy. Charles had been giving her his undivided attention over the past two days. He turned back to her. “Father this is Miss Ferguson, about whom I sent you the telegram.”

  Sharp dark eyes appraised her. Edith pulled her face into her most charming smile. She hoped Mr Wiltshire’s mother had not also sent a telegram. Edith may have fooled Charles with her tears and desperation but she had the feeling Harriet Wiltshire’s failing eyes had seen through her charade.

  She need not have worried. Henry shook her hand warmly. “Welcome, Miss Ferguson. We are delighted you have agreed to join us. I hope you won’t find it too harsh after working in my mother’s delightful city premises.”

  Edith relaxed. “I’m most grateful for the opportunity, Mr Wiltshire, and looking forward to seeing your shop. Charles has told me much about it.”

  “Well once we’re loaded up we can go straight there.”

  “Father, perhaps Miss Ferguson would like to see her accommodation and freshen up first. You know how tiring the journey from Adelaide is. First the trip to Quorn and then the overnight wait until today’s train.”

  Mr Wiltshire senior’s face crinkled into a smile. “Of course. Forgive my exuberance, Miss Ferguson.”

  “I must admit I would like to tidy myself, Mr Wiltshire, but after that I am very keen to inspect my new place of employment. Mr Charles has brought so many new ideas which he has also been sharing with me.”

  Charles guided her to the cart and his father walked alongside them. “We have been looking forward to your arrival, Miss Ferguson. My wife will also be pleased to meet you. She has invited you to dine with us this evening. Your accommodation is right next door.”

  Two sets of hands helped her up onto the seat. She looked down at the two Wiltshire men, who were beaming back at her.

  Edith smiled. “Please, Mr Wiltshire, you are my employer: do call me Edith. Mr Charles does.”

  “Then I will be Mr Henry.” The older man chuckled.

  “Thank you both so much. This has been quite an adventure already.”

  Charles climbed up beside her and there was barely a chance to wave goodbye. She was forced to grab her hat with one hand and the side of the seat with the other as the cart lurched forward. The male Wiltshires were dancing attendance on her but she had yet another hurdle to cross. Mrs Catherine Wiltshire may be more like her mother-in-law and not so easily swayed by a smile or a teardrop.

  Edith squinted through the dusty air at the houses they passed, while Charles kept up a banter about who lived where and their importance, or lack thereof, to the community.

  A horse thundered past them, coming to a stop at a building ahead, and the rider slid from the saddle.

  Edith heard the hiss Charles made through his teeth. “Who is that?” she asked as she watched the man hurry into the building, which she could see as they passed was the doctor’s residence.

  “William Baker. A man from the bush with few manners as you can see by the way he just barged inside Dr Chambers’ rooms. You don’t need to worry about him though. We don’t allow him or his family to darken the doors of our shop.”

  They travelled on. Edith cast a quick look at Charles, who had lost his good humour. She risked a glance behind in time to see Baker come outside again and stride off in the other direction.

  Charles almost faltered as he rose to his feet when his mother entered the room. She had been resting when he’d called in at the house before taking Edith to the shop. Now as Catherine entered the sitting room where they waited before dinner he was shocked. His mother’s face was deathly pale, deeper lines sagged across her once-pretty face and as she drew him into a hug he was engulfed in a wobbly ball of flesh. Her health had deteriorated in his absence but her clothes, as always, were immaculate. Tonight she wore a deep red silk with an open neckline that showed the puffy flesh around her neck.

  “You look lovely, Mother,” he said as he kissed her cheek.

  She smiled at him but her eyes remained dull. “And you have grown into a man during your travels, Charles.”

  “Mother, we have a guest.” Charles deflected her attention to Edith.

  Catherine turned to the young lady, who had also risen to her feet. “And you must be Miss Ferguson.” They clasped hands. “Please do sit down again while we wait for Henry. You must be so tired, Miss Ferguson. I know how tedious the journey from Adelaide can be.”

  “It’s certainly a long way, but I had the opportunity to rest after visiting the shop.”

  “And what did you think? Henry said you previously worked in his mother’s shop. Ours is nowhere near as grand.”

  “But it’s much more interesting.”

  Charles dragged his concerned gaze from his mother to Edith, whose face glowed in contrast. She had been enthusiastic during her visit to the shop that afternoon.

  “Oh, I hope you don’t mind me being so frank, Mrs Wiltshire, but your shop has such grand diversification and Mr Charles has ideas for improvement gleaned from his travels with your mother-in-law.”

  “Really, Charles? You must tell me all about them.”

  The door swung open and a small curly brown-headed apparition in white flew across the room and pounced into Charles’s lap.

  “Laura.” He murmured as two little arms flung around his neck and a wet kiss landed on his cheek.

  “She’s missed you.” His mother smiled benevolently — finally her eyes showed some light.

  “Chars.” The little girl giggled.

  Charles set her on the ground and turned her round. “Laura, this is Miss Ferguson. She is going to work in our shop.”

  Laura’s thumb went to her mouth. She did a wide arc around Miss Ferguson and climbed onto her mother’s lap.

  Catherine patted her back as she cuddled her. “Laura’s shy with strangers, Miss Ferguson, but I am sure she will soon get to know you.”

  “Hello, Miss Laura,” Edith said.

  Laura huddled closer to her mother’s bosom.

  “You should encourage her manners, Mother. She’s not a baby.”

  “But still very young.” Edith inclined her head to Catherine. “I know how it is to be shy. I was always cowering behind my mother’s skirts as a little girl. I am sure we will get to know each other soon enough.”

  Catherine gave Edith a grateful smile. “And where are your parents now, Edith?”

  Edith’s lips turned down. “Both gone from this world now, Mrs Wiltshire. I am quite alone.”

  “Oh my dear, I am so sorry. How sad for you.”

  Edith’s face was drawn. “I have been managing quite well and I am most grateful to have the job at your shop.”

  “It seems I rescu
ed you from Grandmother’s clutches just in time.” Charles felt compelled to lighten the moment and was rewarded with a brief smile from Edith.

  “You did.”

  “What’s this about your grandmother?” Catherine asked.

  At that moment Laura put two hands to her mother’s face and turned it to her. “Story, Mama, story.”

  “Oh my darling.” Catherine chuckled and drew the child into a hug. “She speaks well for someone so young, don’t you think, Edith?”

  Edith remained ramrod straight, perched on the edge of her chair. “I wouldn’t know, Mrs Wiltshire. I’ve had little experience with young children.”

  Laura clutched the necklace that hung around her mother’s neck.

  “What a beautiful locket, Mrs Wiltshire.” Edith’s gaze was on the heart that Laura held.

  “It is very special. It has been in the Wiltshire family for a long time. Grandmother Harriet gave it to me when Charles was born.” Catherine glanced at him.

  Laura wriggled on her mother’s lap and clapped her hands. Catherine kissed her plump cheeks. “You are such a delight.”

  Charles blew a silent sigh over his lips. Laura was far too indulged but there was little he could do about the infatuation that consumed both his parents. He always treated her with distance but, in spite of this, Laura sought him out if neither of them was available.

  Once more the door opened and Henry stepped into the room. “Ah, good. You’re all here. Mrs Nixon tells me dinner is ready.” He swept Laura from her mother’s lap and planted a kiss on her cheek. “And you are off to bed, my little princess.”

  Laura wailed.

  “She wants a story, Henry.” Catherine spoke above the noise.

  Henry kissed his daughter and, ignoring her protests, carried her to the door. “Mrs Nixon will read you a story once our dinner is served.” He disappeared from the room and the sound of Laura’s protests faded.

  Catherine struggled to the edge of her chair. “He is so good with her,” she puffed. Charles bent to offer his arm and she took it with a grateful smile. “He is a very good father to you both.”