The Great Plains

by Nicole Alexander

  Edmund got to his feet and lifted Philomena in his arms. ‘She is right,’ he agreed bluntly as he carried his dead cousin towards the house. ‘I am.’

  Part Four

  It is better to have less thunder in the mouth and more lightning in the hand.

  Apache proverb

  Chapter 17

  Seventeen years later

  May, 1920 – Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

  It was late afternoon. Edmund twirled the tumbler of whiskey in his hand. He was sitting in the corner alcove at the breakfast table. The spot his father Aloysius had loved so much when he was alive. Edmund had taken to drinking after Philomena and his mother died, after Chloe left the second time, for good, taking Tobias with her to Dallas. Chloe’s leaving was not unexpected. Even if he’d not buried Philomena in their garden Edmund believed their eventual separation was inevitable. The circumstances surrounding Philomena’s death merely provided Chloe with a righteous excuse, one that painted him as the philandering husband and she the wronged wife.

  And so the weeks and months stretched slowly onwards and the loneliness ate at Edmund until he became somewhat of a recluse. He’d sunk into despair, only to be rescued by the most unlikely of people, Sheriff Cadell and Wes Kirkland. Cadell had him up and back on the hunt for fugitives and runaways within the year, while Wes ensured he eased back on the bottle. They were a fierce duo, but between the two of them they succeeded in wresting him away from hopelessness. By 1905, two years following Philomena’s death, his grief for her finally eased to a dull ache and he reluctantly had to admit that life went on.

  It was Sheriff Cadell who supported the idea of resuming Edmund’s almost forgotten dream of acquiring land outside of the United States. They’d been sitting around a campfire, having captured two youths accused of thieving from a store, and had spent the evening discussing lost love and unrealised dreams.

  ‘What’s stopping you?’ Cadell finally queried. ‘You’ve just told me that Hugh Hocking might be interested in taking up the challenge of sailing to Australia and having a bit of a gander at things on your behalf. The man’s certainly made a name for himself. And we both know you’ve got the money to do it.’

  It was Philomena’s memory that prompted Edmund to pursue the dream he’d once shared with her in this very house. Back then it had been an impossible fantasy. A chance for a new life, in a new country with the woman he loved. But the more Edmund thought about buying property in that great southern land, the more the idea appealed. It was just the project Edmund had needed and, on writing to Hugh and sounding the man out as to his interest, he discovered that Clarence’s son was even more enamoured of the idea than he was, if that were possible. The purchase of Condamine Station, a substantial holding in the south-west of the state known as Queensland, was completed in early 1910. At the time Edmund worried about the property’s location. It was nowhere near the great cities of Brisbane or Sydney. In fact it was nowhere near anything and transport was limited. Unlike Oklahoma and her neighbours, no great rail system linked all the towns and settlements in this distant land. Remoter areas, such as where Condamine Station was located, depended on teams of bullocks to pull goods loaded onto drays to remote markets, people mainly travelled by horseback or coach, while massive cattle drives herded livestock either to market or to rural holdings in another state. In some respects Australia seemed backwards. But of course one had to put things into perspective. Texas was over three and a half times the size of Oklahoma and Queensland was two and a half times the size of Texas. Distance had rendered the land at the bottom of the world unique and its size intrigued Edmund. He wanted a slice of this continent no matter the difficulties of managing it. And so he’d purchased over one hundred and fifty thousand acres and asked Hugh Hocking to stay on as manager. Clarence’s boy, the last of his line, was still there.

  Hugh had been a diligent and loyal employee. His reports came monthly and it was with some excitement that Edmund opened the mail to find a detailed outline of the property’s management for the prior month and what was planned for the next. With the arrival of one of Hugh’s missives, Edmund was in the process of studying this most recent of management accounts when Tobias entered the sitting room with Wes. As always, Tobias’s attention flicked to his great-uncle’s family portrait. Aged six the year his cousin Philomena came to their house and never left, Tobias could barely recall her or the girl known as Serena. But others could. Time had not softened his mother’s anger. In fact it was Chloe’s tendency to blame Edmund for every conceivable ill that befell her, combined with the completion of Tobias’s education, that led him to journey from Dallas to Oklahoma City two years ago. Now aged twenty-four, he’d never returned home.

  ‘Ah, Tobias, Wes. I wondered where you two were.’ Edmund gestured to them both and they joined him at the table where a property map was unfurled, each corner held down by a paperweight, the whiskey decanter, Edmund’s hand and the day’s mail.

  ‘You looked pleased,’ Tobias commented.

  Edmund traced a pencil line drawn diagonally in the south-west corner of the map with a neatly trimmed nail. ‘That there is our new boundary fence on the station.’

  ‘And what’s that?’ Wes pointed to a dotted line that stretched from the new fence across a bend in the Condamine River.

  ‘A give and take – a stretch of fence that crosses the river and adjoins a neighbour’s fence on the other side.’

  Tobias examined the names of the property owners adjoining their new fence. Their holdings were represented by four-sided diagrams although each shape could vary from square or rectangular to the irregular sized. ‘I don’t know why you just don’t buy them out, Father. Look how small the blocks are and we know they’re mainly dairy farmers.’

  Edmund took a sip of his whiskey. ‘Most of those blocks are soldier-settler blocks and it’s returned soldiers from The Great War who live on them. Besides, a man has to have some neighbours.’

  ‘And what about that Marcus Todd? Didn’t Hugh approach him with a view to buying the man’s dairy farm? I recall something about a crossing.’ Tobias pointed at the map. ‘There’s the property.’

  Edmund followed his son’s finger. ‘Yes, apparently the river narrows there and is a lot shallower. Hugh thought it would be a handy block to own as it’s a perfect spot to cross sheep. At the moment we either have to bypass the village and cross the river further down or take a long detour when we need to move sheep out to our western lands.’

  ‘And he still won’t sell?’ Tobias checked.

  Edmund gave a shake of his head. ‘No interest. Hocking says Marcus Todd is a simple man but he has his pride.’

  ‘And Hocking?’ Wes questioned. ‘Is he still behaving himself?’

  ‘You’ve never liked Hocking, have you?’ Tobias turned to his father. ‘Wes still won’t share the reason for his dislike of the man.’

  ‘There’s just something about him. The day I met him –’

  ‘The day you met him, Wes,’ Edmund reiterated, ‘you were a wet-nosed fifteen-year-old. Let’s leave it at that. Hocking’s doing an excellent job and I trust him implicitly.’

  Wes’s dislike of Hugh was one of those things that Edmund was never able to understand, but it was a fact of life that sometimes two people just couldn’t get on. The men had spent some brief time together prior to Hugh’s departure for Australia. By that stage, Wes, having proved himself to be one of Edmund’s saviours, was a permanent resident of the Wade household, having moved from his bunkhouse accommodation into one of the upstairs bedrooms. Hugh Hocking had been offered a cot-bed in the drafty ballroom on the top floor for the duration of his time in Oklahoma City. Although rebuilt the previous summer after a particularly nasty twister ravaged that part of the house, only the most essential of repair work was done. Consequently, the ballroom was not the most comfortable of places to bed down. It was a fact Wes delighted in and he succeeded in riling Hugh every morning at breakfast by commenting on the comfort of his own room and t
he soundness of his sleep.

  ‘Wes thinks we should pay Hocking a surprise visit, Father.’

  Edmund placed his glass on the table, the liquid sloshed. ‘What? Go to Australia? The two of you?’

  ‘Why yes,’ Tobias grinned. ‘I’m up for it.’

  ‘Me too,’ Wes chimed in.

  ‘Ridiculous. That’s a ridiculous idea. Firstly we have business interests here to attend to.’

  Tobias walked to the sideboard and returned with a glass apiece for himself and Wes. ‘Father, we spend our days chasing outlaws with Sheriff Cadell, riding out morning and night to exercise the horses and studying the financials of your many business interests.’

  Edmund poured whiskey into all three glasses. ‘Two years you’ve been back in my life, Tobias, two years. As for you, Wes, well you’re like a son to me.’

  The men drank their whiskey in silence.

  ‘I’d like to see the property one of these days, Father.’

  ‘And you will, Tobias, one day both you and Wes will.’

  The solemn moment was broken by a knock on the front door.

  ‘It’s a bit late in the afternoon for visitors,’ Wes complained, rising to his feet.

  Their housekeeper Ellen walked sedately to the front door. An earnest church-goer with a most inflexible nature, the Wade residence was run with efficient briskness much to the dismay of Wes and Tobias, who bore the brunt of Ellen’s mantra of cleanliness and godliness.

  Wes pulled back the curtain framing the dormer window. ‘It’s a woman and … and an Injun.’

  Edmund knocked his whiskey over as he stood. ‘Damn,’ he muttered, using his handkerchief to mop up the liquid.

  ‘I’ll see to it,’ Wes offered.

  ‘No,’ Edmund answered curtly, throwing the sodden material into the hearth. ‘I’ll see to it.’

  Ellen met her employer at the sitting-room door. ‘Mr Wade, sir, there is a woman at the door who says her surname is Wade.’

  ‘Edmund? Edmund, is that you? It’s me, Serena.’

  Edmund rested a hand on the door frame, his shoulders sagged. ‘It’s all right, Ellen.’

  Ellen stood to one side to let Edmund pass. Tobias and Wes were at his elbow. For a split second Edmund recalled the words of promise made to Philomena. Caring for Serena, if she ever returned to Oklahoma City, was the one wish his beloved had requested of him.

  ‘Father?’ Tobias prompted. ‘Is it really Serena?’

  ‘Not the Injun girl?’ Wes said softly.

  ‘Don’t forget it’s her grandmother buried outside,’ Tobias argued. ‘I can’t really remember Serena. When was the last time you saw her, Father?’

  Edmund turned and gave his son a wan smile. To his credit Tobias was intrigued with rather than appalled by the life of the woman buried in their garden seventeen years ago. But that didn’t make the situation any easier. With Philomena’s passing Edmund had tried his best to put the past behind him, to forget the mixed-blood slip of a girl who’d caused his parents so much heartache. Now Serena was back. Seventeen years after the death of her grandmother, she was back. As he walked to the front door, instructing the intrigued housekeeper to return to her duties, he was aware of Tobias and Wes close behind him, of a sudden urge to shut the door in Serena’s face. He had a son to consider. Their lives were settled now. He glanced heavenward. It was as if Philomena was watching from afar. ‘Give me a moment with her first, Tobias.’ Edmund opened the front door, stepped outside and closed it firmly behind him.

  ‘Hello, Serena.’ As he spoke, Edmund studied the woman opposite. Dressed neatly in a skirt and blouse, there was a worn look about her. Fine lines spread out from the corners of her eyes and mouth and her skin was dull, weathered. The silver-haired child had disappeared to be replaced by a prematurely ageing woman with gunmetal-coloured hair.

  ‘Hello, Edmund.’ Serena jiggled a baby in her arms. By her side was a boy who could not have been aged more than five. ‘This is my son Jerome,’ her tone was proud, ‘and my daughter Abelena. And this is George.’

  George turned from where he’d been standing, looking out at the houses lining the road. Dressed in a dark suit and necktie, two long black plaits extended out from under the wide-brimmed felt hat he wore. ‘Serena told me that her house was surrounded by fields.’

  Edmund stared at the Indian. ‘You’re Serena’s great-uncle?’

  ‘I am the son of Philomena Wade, yes.’

  Edmund couldn’t help but grimace at being reminded of this association. The man standing on his porch had been with Geronimo at the Delmar Gardens the day his father had died. How Aloysius would have despaired seeing George at his home.

  ‘How are you, Edmund?’

  ‘I am well, Serena. I assume you have come to pay your respects to your grandmother?’ Edmund said cordially.

  Repositioning the baby in her arms Serena hesitated. ‘I, that is, we …’ She looked at George who remained silent. ‘I thought you would like to see my children, after all they’re Wades too.’

  They watched as the boy Jerome escaped his mother’s grasp and ran to explore the garden. ‘I’m sure their father would not like to hear that. They bear his surname –’

  ‘They have my name, Wade,’ Serena corrected. ‘It is my right.’

  Edmund didn’t bother to argue or ask where the father was. The boy was Mexican in appearance.

  ‘It has been a long trip,’ George said frankly. ‘The children are tired.’

  ‘What can I do for you, Serena?’

  ‘Can you not see that Serena is tired?’ George interrupted. ‘That the children are tired?’

  ‘Perhaps you should come back in the morning then after you have rested. Philomena’s grave is in the garden. You are free to pay your respects.’

  ‘We have travelled from our land at Fort Sill,’ George told him.

  ‘You have done well then.’ Edmund tried to sound pleased for them. ‘If you also wish to visit my father’s resting place, Serena, I can give you the directions.’

  ‘We did not come here to visit the dead. Tell him, niece, tell this man why we are here.’

  ‘Your father made me his ward,’ Serena began, ‘I have rights.’

  ‘We have rights,’ George corrected. ‘We are Wades.’

  ‘You have no rights,’ Edmund said bluntly to the man.

  ‘You know it to be true.’

  ‘I know no such thing.’ Edmund looked the Indian up and down. ‘This is the first time I have met you.’

  ‘We have rights,’ Serena repeated as the baby began to mew.

  ‘What rights are those? You ran away, caused nothing but sadness for my father and your grandmother and now all these years later you come back asking for money? That’s why you are here?’

  ‘Let me speak to Annie, she will help me.’

  ‘My parents are long dead, Serena. You may well have been my father’s ward but you did everything possible to destroy the love and care he tried to show you. There is nothing for you here now.’ As he said the words Edmund thought of Philomena. Perhaps if George had not come with Serena he might have let her into his house, been prepared to care for her and her children, if only for Philomena’s sake. But George had come and brought back all the anger and sadness of the past. The Serena of old had been replaced by an ageing woman of loose morals. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t risk his household being turned upside down by her presence, he couldn’t risk Tobias being exposed to the angst Serena was bound to create. ‘I will give you some money, then you must go.’

  George clenched his fists. ‘We don’t want handouts. We want our share.’

  ‘There is no share to be had,’ he announced. ‘It is seventeen years since Serena last paid us the compliment of a visit. Anyway, from what I hear, you people are quite happy to accept handouts.’

  George moved quickly. He lifted a fist and swung at Edmund who, in turn, neatly dodged his attacker and landed a punch squarely on George’s nose. Bone on bone crunched. Blood flowed
from the Indian’s nose. He stared at Edmund with unabridged hatred.

  ‘Stop it!’ Serena shouted. The baby began to bawl.

  From inside the house came footsteps. The front door opened and Wes squared up opposite George while Tobias stood shoulder to shoulder with his father.

  ‘Here, take this.’ Edmund took a fistful of notes from his wallet and handed the money to Serena. ‘You have made your choice, Serena. You left here of your own accord –’

  ‘That’s not true. Aloysius sent me away to be with Philomena.’

  ‘Because you could not settle here, because you would not settle here,’ Edmund concluded. ‘You have no rights where this family is concerned – you didn’t want us. After everything my father did for you, you didn’t want to be a part of this family.’

  ‘What of my children? What of little Abelena?’ Serena wailed, clutching the money.

  It was then that Edmund recalled where he’d heard the baby’s name. Philomena had mentioned it. His beloved had said that Tobias would care for the child Abelena all his life, but it would be an unrequited love.

  ‘I think it’s best if you leave.’ Wes crossed his arms.

  ‘Tobias, Tobias, you remember me, don’t you?’ Serena tugged at his arm.

  ‘Come, Serena.’ George steered her away from the men and led her down the steps.

  ‘I spit on you,’ Serena scowled, spitting onto the ground. ‘I spit on you all. You think you’re all so high and mighty, don’t you? You think one generation can save my grandmother and then ignore the rest of us, like we are so much rubbish that blows away down the street? Well, let me tell you a thing or two, my kind are always going to be walking the earth. Do you hear? Always. I have your blood in my veins, Edmund, and my children have it too. Don’t ever forget that.’

  George called to the boy in the Apache tongue. Jerome came running from around the side of the house. On seeing his uncle he ran to the older man and George swung the lad up into his arms. ‘The white man still has much to learn,’ George called out to the others standing on the porch. ‘There is such a word as family.’ Placing a sheltering arm around Serena’s shoulders, they left the house surrounds and began walking down the street.