"Do what?"
"Pretend to be a bloody boy, for God's sake."
"We were desperate for a job. Gil wasn't up to working on his own. I couldn't think of any other way for us to be together."
"Hell." He shook his head. "If the other men had found out, isolated, on your own here?" He shuddered, thinking about the repercussions.
"Gil didn't want to do it. I talked him into it. It's my fault." The words tumbled out over each other, husky, full of pain. Tears cascaded from her eyes, flowing like a torrent down either cheek. Her whole body trembled.
He put his arms around her and she wept into his chest. When she was finally spent, he still held her tightly.
Wild, willful Harry was a girl. No, a woman, and a damn lovely one. What would she look like if her hair hadn't been hacked off at the scalp? Why should he care? He was off women for life, wasn't he? Virginia had taken his heart and ruthlessly smashed it into a thousand pieces. Her betrayal still festered, a wound that was slowly poisoning him. He would never let another woman get close to him again.
He laid her down, tucking the blankets firmly around her, and stepped over to the fire to pour out a mug of tea. When Jack came back he would have to ride to the nearest town to report Gilbert's death. Drop Harry off, too. Deep down he knew it was going to be hard to do that to her.
They only had one living relative. He recalled Gilbert telling him about an old spinster aunt who ran a boarding house in Benalla. She would have to take charge of Harry; it was the only sensible thing to do.
As he sipped his tea, a dozen thoughts spun around his brain. Maybe she could stay at the homestead with Mrs. Bates for a couple of days then he would get the aunt to take her off his hands. He turned Harry's clothes around so they would dry all over. Steam rose up from them in little puffs then disappeared.
"Ross."
He swung around. Ashen faced, Harry stood at his side clutching the blanket tightly around her.
"Are my clothes dry yet?"
"No."
"What are we going to do about Gil?" she whispered.
"I've sent some of the men to search upstream. I don't think we'll find him though, too many underwater caverns and caves along this stretch of river. I must go into the nearest town to inform the authorities."
"Don't leave me." She clutched at his arm, her fingers surprisingly strong.
"I'll wait until Jack gets back."
"No, please, I want to stay with you. I've got no one now."
"Gilbert told me you have an aunt in Benalla. I'll take you there."
"No!"
"I'm taking you to Benalla and that's final." He hadn't meant it to sound so brutal, but she had to understand. It was the most sensible course of action.
"I'm staying with you." Her lips trembled, her tear-drenched eyes were full of pain, yet she stood there defying him.
"Listen." He grabbed her shoulders and shook her slightly. "It's impossible for you to stay with me, I'm a bachelor. For God's sake, your reputation would be ruined."
"We could get married."
"Married!" He shot the word out. "Are you mad?"
"Why couldn't we?"
"Because I don't want a woman in my life." He dropped the words slowly, one by one. "They're treacherous, lying bitches."
"I'm not like that."
"End of discussion. You're going to Benalla. The quicker I get rid of you the better for all of us." With an exaggerated movement, he stepped away.
"I'll run away," she vowed recklessly. "I'll come straight back to Devil's Ridge."
"I'll take you back again."
She clutched his hand. "Gil's gone, but he was happy at Devil's Ridge. He loved the place and so do I. His spirit will roam free there. I'll always be close to him. If I leave, he'll be lost to me forever because I don't even have a grave to visit."
"So, you'd marry me to be near your dead brother?"
"Yes, but you wouldn't be sorry." Desperation tinged her voice but he hardened his heart.
"What do I get out of the deal?" he snapped.
"If you give me what I want, I swear I'll give you something you want."
"There's nothing I want from you." He let his gaze range insolently over her. "You have a nice little body, and I've seen it all."
Delicate pink swept into her cheeks and he couldn't believe how attractive he found this. Damn it. "I can buy just as good in any town, no strings attached."
Cruelty was the only weapon he had, and he wielded it with a ruthlessness that appalled him. But he must destroy this feeling she thought she had for him right here and now. Kill it stone dead. He turned on his heel and strode away.
"Ross." She ran after him. "Can they give you a son?"
"What!" He swung around.
"I said, can they give you a son?"
"I heard what you said. You're mad."
"No I'm not. Listen," she pleaded, plucking at his sleeve. "I want to stay at Devil's Ridge, and you need an heir to carry on your family name. Why shouldn't we both have what we want? Life will be terrible without Gil, but if you go out of my life, I won't survive."
He slapped his forehead with an open hand. He must be having a nightmare. No sane woman would suggest such a thing. Of course, Harry was unconventional; out of her mind with grief, but God Almighty—marriage.
"You don't even know me. I'm moody, hot tempered and I'm scarred physically and mentally. I'm years older than you are."
"It doesn't matter. I've seen you naked remember, twice, and I liked what I saw."
Shock caused heat to race into his face. "You're distraught. You've just lost your brother. You don't know what you're saying."
"I do. I like you."
He snorted. "Do you know what marriage means? Do you have any idea what a man expects from his wife?"
"Yes."
"I don't think you do."
"I've lived on a farm all my life. I've seen stallions covering mares, bulls with cows."
Laughter bubbled up in his throat. He would have let it escape if she hadn't looked so little and pathetic draped in an old army blanket, her auburn ringlets plastered to her head, tears trickling down her cheeks.
"Don't you like me, is that it? Aren't I attractive enough for you?"
He opened his mouth, clamping it shut as she went on, desperation raising her voice.
"I know I'm not beautiful, but I'll look better when my hair grows again."
Dear God, she was so young, naïve and sweet, but he couldn't take advantage of her. It would be so easy to accept what she offered. He often felt lonely at night in his cold, empty bed, craving the warm softness of a woman. He was no different to any other man in that respect.
Virginia's betrayal cut him deeply, leaving him incapable of anything but the most carnal feelings towards a woman. Harry deserved more. In time, when her grief subsided, she would expect more. He couldn't give it.
"You're upset over losing Gilbert, otherwise you wouldn't propose such a ridiculous thing."
"If you won't marry me, I'll find someone else who will," she threatened.
He ignored the impassioned words, but his gut wrenched at the thought of another man touching her.
"You need to rest." He shooed her away with a contemptuous wave of one hand and marched over to the fire. Throwing on a large log, he sat watching the flames voraciously lick at the wood.
Chapter Six
Ross endured one of the longest nights of his life except for the months he spent on Gallipoli. Jack joined him by the fire and they sat there listening to Harry sobbing in her sleep.
"That fool kid wants to marry me," he suddenly said, giving a mirthless laugh.
"What's wrong with that?" Jack kicked a burning log back into the fire. "You do need a woman."
"What?" he shot back. Shocked at Jack's response. "You're mad like she is. You know she even offered to give me a son." He gave a short bark of laughter that held no mirth. "Someone to carry on the Calvert name."
"There's something wrong with
that? You're the last Calvert now Eric's gone. It's your duty."
"Bullshit, Jack. You could have got married yourself."
"The only girl I ever wanted married someone else," he said sadly.
They had never spoken like this before, even though Jack had always been around on and off over the years. Half of Devil's Ridge belonged to him until he signed over his share before the war.
They lapsed into an uncomfortable silence. Ross stared broodingly into the glowing embers of the fire. I can hear my mates calling me back, Gilbert had kept saying.
Suddenly he shivered, as if someone had walked over his grave. "Who was the girl?" he asked Jack, not liking the silence.
"You don't know?"
"How would I know?"
"Your mother."
His head snapped back. "Hell Jack, I never realized. Did she know?"
"I don't think so. I loved her from a distance." Jack gave a sad little chuckle. "We were stepping out I suppose you could call it. I introduced her to your father and I never stood a chance from then on. You two boys were the sons I never had."
"You had more guts than me. I couldn't have stayed around and watched." His mouth tightened. "Purely academic now. No woman will ever get close enough to hurt me again."
"Son, would you do something for me?"
"If I can."
Jack reached out and tapped Ross' cheek. "Forget the scar. It's fading. Promise me you'll seriously consider Harry's proposal?"
"Not bloody likely."
They lapsed into silence for a while. Ross prowled restlessly. He wandered over to check on Harry who lay under the wagon, curled up in a ball. Back at the fire, he poked the ashes with a stick and threw on another log. It was too spooky staring into a dying fire after what had happened.
"Want a brew?" Jack finally asked.
"No thanks. I'd like a whisky. A whole bottle. In fact I'd like to get blind, rotten drunk. Why the hell did I ever let myself get mixed up with the pair of them?"
"You weren't to know the boy was mentally disturbed. Kept telling me his dead mates were calling him back to Gallipoli."
"Maybe they were." Ross forked his fingers through his hair. "Perhaps it was pre-ordained for him to die over there, but somehow he didn't. He fought at the Nek, you know, with the eighth Light Horse. Poor devils left their horses in Egypt, volunteering to go as reinforcements because of all the casualties.
In August, while we fought at Lone Pine and the New Zealanders were being slaughtered at Chunuk Bair, Gilbert's mob charged across a causeway at the Nek. Poor bastards drew lots to see who would go first."
Ross laughed harshly. "You were damned if you won and damned if you lost. Gilbert's lot went over in the first wave apparently. Three minutes later most of them lay dead. He told me he sheltered behind a body, eventually crawling away when it got dark. Stretcher-bearers found him a couple of days later. He lay out in no-man's land watching six hundred fellow Light Horse men charging across the Nek. Four hundred of them ended up dead or wounded. No wonder his mind cracked under the strain."
For God's sake." Jack shivered. "Stop it. Try and get some rest."
"I won't sleep now. Too many dead men disturb my dreams."
He stared into the flames. It had been one hell of a day and tomorrow would probably be worse.
* * *
At daybreak, Harry staggered out from under the wagon. She felt absolutely wretched. Her clothes had dried hard and chafed her skin after she put them on. As she sloshed water on her face, she chanced a glance at Ross and Jack who slept sprawled out by the fire. Moving carefully, so as not to disturb them, she started setting things up for breakfast.
"What the hell are you doing creeping around?" She jumped at Ross' voice.
"I'm going to start breakfast."
"You don't have to. Jack and I can do it."
"No, I feel better if I'm doing something." She ran a trembling hand through her hair. "Gil's at peace now." She blinked back the threatening tears. "It's the only way I can bear to think about what happened."
"No one could do anything about it. Your brother was doomed the moment he landed on that Turkish beach," Ross said gently.
"I wonder why God let him come back."
"To say goodbye to his sister maybe. He adored you. Remember the good times. He wouldn't want you to mourn him."
"His mates meant a lot to him."
"I know. When you're in the trenches your mates are everything, you rely on them. They're your brothers, your lovers, your God even. There's no one else." He spoke with such passion it moved her, even though she was bowed down with her own grief.
"Oh, Ross." She reached up on tiptoe, and ran a gentle finger along the scar. His nostrils flared slightly. A transient warmth softened his eyes, but was quickly extinguished when his cold mask settled back into place.
At breakfast the men did not know what to say to her. She did not even bother with the waistcoat now; everyone knew she was Harriet not Harry.
"Sorry about your brother," Archie said. "He was a fine young man."
"Hear, hear," the others agreed.
"Thank you. I'm sorry for deceiving everyone." She scrubbed the tears off her cheeks with her fingers. There would be plenty of time left for crying later. She had a job to do and would do it no matter what it cost her. Gritting her teeth, she started dishing up. Eggs, beans and fried bread washed down with black tea. Not very exciting but there was plenty of it.
After the men left to attend the cattle, only she, Ross and Jack remained. She watched silently as Ross doused the campfire.
"I'll leave you in charge, Jack. You'll have to drive the wagon, too, but the men know what to do. Keep the cattle moving."
"What about me?" Harry queried.
"You're coming into town with me. We'll have to see the authorities, then I'll put you on the first train to Benalla."
"Don't be so cold-blooded," Jack protested.
"Well, she can't stay here."
"I know."
"Why can't I?" She hoped she didn't sound too plaintive.
"Because you're a woman, and you can't stay out here with a bunch of men," Ross ground the words out.
"You could keep an eye on me, Jack."
"I wish I could, girlie, but it's impossible." He glanced at Ross. "He's the boss."
"Oh yes, and he can't wait to get rid of me." Harry didn't try to disguise her bitterness as she faced Ross. "You've had it in for me ever since I arrived here."
"I gave you a job," he growled.
"You employed Gil, and let me tag along."
"What if I did?"
"My brother is dead." She clenched her hands into fists, nails biting into her palms. "Don't you feel any pity for me?"
"I do sympathize with you. I'm sorry about Gilbert, but I need to get these cattle to the army representative at the railhead."
"Money," she sneered. "It always comes down to money with rich people like you."
"That's not true, my dear," Jack said.
"Of course it is. You're a nice man, but your nephew is a heartless money grabber."
"Watch your mouth." Ross advanced towards her threateningly. "The fact you're female won't stop me from putting you over my knee and giving you the spanking you deserve."
Jack protested. "Remember what she's been through."
"He doesn't give a damn about me." Angry tears pooled in her eyes. "He's callous."
Ross stalked off but she ran after him. "I hate you." She pummeled her fists into his back.
He swung around. "The feeling is mutual."
Tears cascaded down her cheeks. Great sobs racked her body as she sank to the ground.
"Oh, Harry." He stood her up and wrapped his arms around her. "You're making it difficult for me."
She nuzzled her face into his shirt, and his heart thumped in her ear.
"Don't send me away, please."
"You can't stay here. Be reasonable." His hands caressed her back in a gentle circular motion instilling her with war
mth. "It's impossible."
"I could wait for you at the outstation, stay in your hut maybe?"
"No. I'm sorry. The sensible thing for you to do is go to your aunt's place."
It was safe and comforting being held in his arms. She wanted him to kiss her, make her forget the pain of losing Gil. Was she going mad? She castigated herself for caring about such a pig of a man.
Ross saddled a horse for her and they cantered off. She turned around to wave at Jack standing motionless staring after them.
"Goodbye, Gil," she whispered. "You were the best brother in the world."
On and on they travelled through brooding bush land, her cold limbs warmed by the mid morning sun as it filtered through the tree trunks. Her eyes blurred with tears and she stifled her sobs, even though her heart had shattered into a million pieces. Ross rode a little in front of her staring straight ahead, his back ramrod straight, as remote as the mountains of Devil's Ridge.
The town came up suddenly, a clutch of weatherboard buildings set in a peaceful, green valley. They clattered down the cobblestoned main street. She stared straight ahead. Wearing a clean blue work shirt and brown moleskin trousers tucked into black boots, she felt shabby and dirty. Strange how her attire never mattered when she masqueraded as a boy, but for once she wanted Ross to see her dressed in feminine clothes. She shook her head angrily at such foolishness. Why worry about what he thought of her? She already knew. He couldn’t care less about her.
"Do you want to stop at the pub for a lemonade before we see the police?"
"No thanks, unless you want a beer."
"I could down a dozen beers and a bottle of whisky."
"I've caused you a lot of trouble, I'm sorry."
He shrugged. "Let's get this over with."
They filed into the police station and walked up to a dark-haired police constable sitting behind a desk scribbling something in a notebook.
"Who's in charge here?" Ross swept off his hat and swiped the back of his hand across his forehead.
"Me." The constable used a sheath of papers to swat a fly on his desk.
"We've come to report an accident." Ross explained what happened.
"That's suicide."
"Call it what you like. We tried to find the body but failed."
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