She tossed her head. ‘I wasn’t going to be left behind.’
‘You’ll be the death of me, girl.’ Gerald panted and wiped his forehead again.
As they concentrated on getting safely to the bottom, the noises of the bush intensified. An unseen bird made the sound of a whiplash cutting the air, flies buzzed, twigs snapped underfoot, and small lizards slithered over rocks.
The track brought them out on the left side of the valley. At the bottom, the trees and scrub thinned out to grassy plains. Emerging out of the shade, the heat intensified. Pippa wished she had brought her parasol with her, but had left it in the gig so she could hold her skirts up with both hands. Sweat trickled inside her collar and dampened her bonnet. She licked her dry lips. ‘Is there water close by?’
‘Here, miss, I have water with me.’ Robson handed her a leather-bound canteen.
‘Thank you.’ She stopped to drink and chuckled as the cool and pleasant water trickled down her chin. Drinking from a canteen was an art she hadn’t mastered.
‘Do you see that thin line of gum trees in the middle over there?’ Robson pointed in front of them.
Pippa studied the ragged thin line and nodded.
‘Those trees must edge the creek bank.’ He turned to Gerald. ‘Do you see that flat rise to the right of the creek bend, Mr Noble?’
‘Aye, lad, I do.’
Robson smiled. ‘I think it would make an ideal homestead site.’
Gerald slapped Robson on the shoulder. ‘I think you may be right, my man.’
Pippa hesitated as the two men walked on. She slowly turned a full circle, taking in the broad sweep of the valley. Acres of waist-high brown grass rippled in the infinite breeze like a long slow wave on a lazy sea.
She strolled on, enjoying the feeling of walking on her own land. She now understood the power it gave men and why they did almost anything to acquire property. They broke their backs trying to keep it viable in the hard times and, in good times, they looked to buy more. The intensity of emotion frightened her. Her land. Her future.
She joined the men on the rise, catching the last snippets of their conversation.
‘I saw a plough for sale yesterday. I’d like us to sow our grass seed as soon as possible. We’ll need to sow hay for winter feed.’ Gerald pulled at a tall piece of grass and twirled it between his fingers. ‘We’ve so much to build. You’ll need to pick reliable men to help you, Robson, while I am in Sydney.’
‘Yes, sir. I know a fellow, a former convict, who has just finished his ticket-of-leave. He’s a hard worker, and honest, which is rare for most convicts. He goes wherever work is and I hear he’s back in Berrima. He has two strong sons, too.’
‘Good, good.’
‘This rise should be high enough to avoid any floods from the creek.’ Robson spoke as he paced out the area.
Gerald shielded his eyes with his hand to follow the line of the creek before them. ‘This water course is a stroke of luck. We’ll have fresh water on our doorstep.’
‘It may dry out in a drought, for it’s not very deep, but we might find a spring and dig a well.’ Robson pointed to the opposite side. ‘You’ll be wanting the stables and men’s quarters on the other side, Mr Noble, away from the family house?’
‘Yes, indeed.’ Gerald turned and took Pippa’s hand. ‘What do you think, my dear?’
She took a deep breath, raised her face to the sun, and closed her eyes, hardly able to express her feelings. ‘I think we’ve found paradise, Father.’
Pippa placed the knife and fork on her plate and reached for her glass of wine. ‘I imagine Robson and his men have achieved much in the valley during this last week.’
Gerald touched his napkin to his mouth and frowned at the rowdy noise coming from the main bar. ‘Yes, I expect so. He will be back tomorrow. His main concern this week was widening and securing a way down the slope, ready for the transports.’
‘I posted another letter today to Hilary and included a few sketches of the valley. I mentioned the beauty of the area. I long to show it to her.’
‘I think it will be some time before either she or your mother comes to Berrima.’
She sipped her wine. ‘I have read that timber homes can be erected rather quickly.’
‘You mother would never live in a timber hut, my dear.’
‘I will ensure the house is comfortable for Mother. Besides, we would save money to build the house in timber. Money that could be spent on more breeding mares.’
‘We will need money for more things than mares. There are building materials to be bought, wages, provisions …’
Pippa looked askance. ‘Have we enough money for all those things after buying the land?’
‘Some.’ Her father’s brow wrinkled and he lowered his gaze. ‘I shall write to Howard.’
‘Oh, Father, no.’ Pippa sagged at the suggestion. ‘We owe the Lindfields a sufficient amount already. Must we request more?’
‘Howard’s loan shall not last much longer.’
‘But to keep asking for more isn’t the answer either.’ She pushed her plate away. ‘We must bring Noble Blaze and the mares here and advertise Blaze’s services immediately. We need our mares put into foal as soon as possible.’
Gerald put his hand up to quiet her. ‘Nothing is ready in the valley.’
Pippa raised her chin. ‘Then we ought to hurry or manage with what we have. I am capable of living in a tent.’
‘Pippa—’
‘Listen, Father, please. I have thought about this. I have written it down in my journal.’ She inched closer. ‘We must hurry and build a hut of some sort, or live in tents, I don’t mind which, and erect the stables so we can immediately live on the land. That way we’ll save money on the hotel in Sydney and the stable rent. It would be a considerable reduction in our expenses.’
‘Now wait just a minute—’
‘You have to return to Sydney and arrange for Blaze and the mares to be brought here, as well as Mother and Hilary. While you are doing that, I shall supervise the work in the valley.’ She took his hand and squeezed it. ‘It makes sense, Father.’
A look of horror descended over his face. ‘I won’t leave you here alone. It’s out of the question.’
She rocked back in her seat, annoyed. ‘I have Robson and Millie. I will be fine. Millie has agreed to be my companion in all things. Her husband is away for long stretches at a time. Therefore, she and Davy are alone very much. She is sensible and skilled, Father. I can rely on her to help me organise things for the valley.’
‘I cannot leave you here in this inn alone. It’s unthinkable. Your mother—’
‘Millie and Davy will stay with me here. Her husband is due to go away for work in a few days. He’s to work on a property at Bong Bong and won’t be back for weeks. You liked her when you met her and Davy a few days ago, you told me yourself.’
‘Yes, that’s true, but—’
‘Please, Father, it makes perfect sense for me to stay here.’
Her father looked pained. ‘Your mother will never forgive me if I return without you. I know I said you could be included in the running of the stud, but I had meant once it was established, not supervising workmen and staying here alone. What kind of father would I be to leave you here?’
‘A sensible one!’ She glared, ready to fight tooth and nail for what she wanted. ‘You must stop seeing me as something fragile.’
‘You’re a woman!’
‘Yes, but does that make me brainless? No! I’m twenty-one, not a child in the nursery.’ She realised she’d raised her voice and quickly took a breath to calm down. ‘You know me, Father, for what I am. I thought, no, truly believed you understood me, understood that some women are strong, intelligent, and not at all weak.’
‘I do.’
‘Then prove it. Go against your fellow man’s ridiculous notions of womanhood and prove that you see me, a woman, as someone capable.’
He shook his head in defeat. ‘I don’t hav
e to prove it. I know you are capable. It’s not me, it’s society that I’m protecting you from. Do you want to be seen as a “she-devil”, as somebody unfeminine? A social outcast?’
‘Why would I be? Just because I stay here and build a home for us all?’ She slumped back in her chair. ‘Women have been the backbone of civilisation for centuries, Father, only men refuse to acknowledge it.’
‘And some women refuse to acknowledge it, too! It is their evil tongues which will brand you as unacceptable, and that’s what I want to avoid.’ He sighed, his expression tired. ‘Why must you strain against the boundaries, my dear? Sometimes you go too far.’
‘Because as you always say, I should have been a boy. Then I could enjoy freedom in the way only men can.’
Silence stretched between them until Gerald shifted in his chair and looked at her. ‘Stay if you wish. It’s obvious that the work must continue and I must return to Sydney. But,’ he said, holding up his hand, ‘I do not like this arrangement at all.’
Pippa noticed the fine lines around his tight, bluish lips. ‘Are you all right, Father?’
He nodded and gave a wry smile. ‘Indigestion. Arguing with you over the dinner table isn’t healthy.’
She rose and stepped to his side. Placing a kiss on his whiskery cheek, she squeezed his shoulders. ‘I’ll keep Millie with me the whole time. I promise not to take risks and to behave myself.’
He raised his bushy eyebrows. ‘That would be a first.’
Chapter Five
Pippa stood in the simmering heat and waved to the departing gig, smiling as her father turned for one last salute.
‘How long do you think he will be gone, miss?’ Robson asked as they turned to walk inside the inn.
‘A month, maybe more. My mother will create a fuss and cause delays. Also, Father needs to secure supplies …’ She paused by the staircase. ‘Are you leaving today for the valley?’
‘Yes, miss, unless of course you need me?’
‘No, no.’ She placed her hand on the banister. ‘I will see you in a week.’
He twirled his hat in his hands. ‘Are you certain you will be safe here?’
Pippa grinned. ‘Indeed, Robson. I have Millie and Father has talked with the innkeeper so I shall have my own watch guard.’
‘Well, if you need me, just send a man to the valley.’
‘Thank you.’
‘Very well, miss. Good day to you.’
‘Keep safe, Robson, and work those men hard. I am impatient for my new home.’ Pippa grinned at him before hurrying up the staircase and into her room. She unpinned her straw hat, threw it onto the bed and walked to the small writing desk under the window. She gazed at her latest sketch. It was of Davy, fishing by the river that flowed past the end of town. She had sent many sketches to Hilary, hoping to show her the natural beauty of the area. Soon, she wished to set up her easel and paint the wildflowers. Perhaps if she could create enough paintings she could send them back to England and sell them. The extra income would be welcomed. The thought of England and money made her think of the Lindfields – Grant especially. He was in India now, an officer in the Queen’s army, leaving his aging father Howard alone in the great house in the country. The house that, if fate and bloodlines had decreed otherwise, would have been her father’s, but instead they were the poor relations, the ones who, when times were tough, went begging for loans.
How it had irritated and shamed her whenever her father asked for money from Howard Lindfield. Oh, it was all done very jovially, as though it was a standard joke that her father’s latest venture had been doomed like his others. But not this time. There’d be no failure in Australia and one day they would return to England and show them all that the Noble family had risen again to the heights they were born to. Also, she’d show Grant that she’d been worthy to love …
A sharp rap at the door interrupted her musing. ‘Yes, come in.’
The inn’s cleaning maid rushed in. ‘Oh, Miss Noble!’
‘Yes, what is it?’ Pippa frowned.
‘Downstairs is a little boy asking for you. I think he’s Millie Stroker’s lad. He’s crying.’
Pippa dashed past the maid, across the landing and downstairs. Davy stood in the entrance wiping a dirty sleeve across his wet eyes. The boy always seemed to be attracted to dirt. ‘Davy! What is the matter, my pet?’ She crouched down and held his thin shoulders. ‘Have you come here by yourself? Where’s your mother? Did you lose your way?’
‘Mother …’ He threw himself against her, nearly toppling them both to the floor.
Pippa stood, taking his hand. ‘Come, darling, I will take you home.’ She asked the maid to fetch her hat.
Halfway up the main street, she looked down at his tear-stained face. ‘Your mother will worry about you, my little man. You mustn’t wander off by yourself. She will be cross.’
‘Mother is helping Father.’
She frowned. ‘Your father is home?’
Davy glanced up at her, sniffling. ‘He’s sick.’
Pippa’s throat constricted. She forced a tight smile and squeezed his hand lightly.
At the cottage, Pippa’s heart lurched at the gathering at the front door. The silent crowd sent shivers along her spine. They parted to let her and Davy through. Inside, she paused to let her eyes adjust to the dimness after the harsh sunlight outside.
A woman stood by the fire, stirring a large pot nestled on the flames. She inclined her head towards the bedroom. ‘Millie’s in there. Best not let the boy go in.’
Pippa nodded and then bent to Davy. ‘Darling, will you go out the back and pick me some flowers? I will join you in a minute.’
He walked away, his finger stuck in his mouth and his blue eyes wide.
The scene in the bedroom shocked her. Upon the bed lay the bloodied and ruined body of James Stroker, a man she had never met, except through Millie’s stories.
Stepping beside Millie, who sat by the bed pressing towels onto the wounds, Pippa placed her hands on her new friend’s shoulders. Her pale face sent a jolt of alarm through Pippa.
‘Have you seen Davy?’ Millie’s voice seemed to come from somewhere else, so detached did she sound.
‘He is safe.’ Pippa swallowed the bile that rose to her throat as she gazed at James Stroker, who struggled for every breath. ‘W-what happened?’
‘A bull gored him. He was fixing a broken fence for a man down the road. The bull was meant to be tied up, but broke free. The heifers in the next paddock enraged him. James didn’t get out of the way in time. It was only meant to be a quick job to do before he left for Bong Bong …’
Stroker groaned and writhed, causing his wounds to bleed profusely. Millie tried to staunch the spurting blood with another towel, her movements frantic.
‘Has the doctor been sent for?’ Pippa rushed around to the other side of the bed, picked up a damp cloth, and, after a moment’s hesitation, wiped away seeping rivers of blood, her hands shaking.
‘The doctor can’t be found, he could be anywhere. He has a large area to oversee.’ Millie pushed her hair back with her wrist, then pressed a wad of cloth into a hole in James’s chest. The blood flowed over her hand and she stared at it. ‘They’ve sent for a woman, Mary Donnelly, who lives on the road to Sutton Forrest, for she is as good as a doctor, but I … I think it will be too … late.’
‘Isn’t there anyone else?’ Pippa dumped her soiled cloth into a bucket near the bed and reached for a fresh cloth. She had never witnessed death this close before and this man’s opened chest made her feel ill. She blinked and took a deep breath. The stench of blood filled her nose and she heaved.
‘Perhaps … a needle and thread … or …’ Millie backed away from the bed, her hands dripping red.
‘Why doesn’t someone help us?’ Pippa cried, frightened to take the pressure off the wound as another rivulet of blood seeped down James’s ribs.
‘James …’ Eyes wide, Millie kept backing away towards the door. ‘I’ll stitch him,
shall I?’ She looked at Pippa for confirmation before falling to the floor with a thud.
‘Help!’ Pippa called out through the door, and then rushed to gather Millie up into her arms. ‘Millie!’
The woman from the other room stood at the door, wiping her hands on her apron. ‘I’ll be off now, then.’
‘What?’ Aghast, Pippa shook her head. ‘No, you cannot go. I need your help.’
The woman strode into the room and helped her place Millie in a chair in the corner. She glanced at the body on the bed. ‘There’s nowt yer can do fer him, anyone can see that. I’ve helped all I can. I’ve got to be goin’, I’ve left me little lass watching me baby.’
‘Can you ask one of the others outside?’
‘They’ve all gone home. Millie will need yer help now more than him on the bed.’ The woman shrugged. ‘There’s some dinner simmerin’ in the pot. The boy’s out the back.’ She quickly left the room before Pippa could say another word.
‘Millie.’ Pippa tapped her cheeks. Never in her life had she been in such a situation.
Millie’s eyes fluttered open. ‘I … Oh, Pippa, James …’ Millie staggered up, holding Pippa’s arm, and Pippa helped her over to the bed.
Blood no longer oozed out of James’s wounds. His chest no longer rose and fell.
‘He’s gone.’ Millie stared at her husband, her face white. After a slight wavering, she bent and kissed his pale face. ‘Goodbye, my sweet, gentle man.’
‘Come.’ Pippa guided her away and out of the room. She placed her in a chair by the fire, glancing up as a girl, aged about fifteen, entered through the front door.
‘I’m Jane Parker, from down the road. I heard there had been an accident. Is there anything I can do?’
Pippa beckoned her in, grateful to have another person in the room. ‘Can you sit with her for a moment?’
‘Of course.’
Pippa left them and went back into the bedroom. Flies swarmed over the body. She stared at James Stroker’s face, which was unmarked. He looked kind, gentle even, and her heart softened in pity for Millie and Davy. A fly buzzed near her head and she swatted it away. The blood began congealing from the heat. In revulsion, Pippa threw the bloodstained blanket over James’s body and hurried from the room. Millie and Davy needed her. They had no one else and, despite the awful circumstances, Pippa vaguely realised she was needed as never before.
Where Rainbows End Page 6