The Great Plains

by Nicole Alexander

Evan rode away and, one by one, Sprout, Bob, Nicholson and Chalk peeled off to follow him to the south.

  ‘What’s happening?’ There was a scatter of sheep ahead. Will gathered the reins. They were moving another mob, this lot to the south-west of Condamine Station.

  ‘There’s someone out there. Over in that ridge. Evan and the others will ride around the edge of it and come up behind him,’ Jim told him. ‘It could be Kirkland.’

  ‘The manager? Out here?’

  ‘He’s like that, Kirkland is. He has a tendency to sneak up on a man, check on a person’s business. A couple of months ago he trailed us every night for four nights. Evan cottoned on to him though, snuck up on him before piccaninny daylight and caught him out. Bet Kirkland didn’t like that.’

  Will patted his mount’s neck. ‘Why was he following you though? Doesn’t he trust us?’

  Jim dropped his chin. ‘Imagine that. Come on. If we’re quick we should be back at the ridge by the time Evan sneaks up on whoever it is.’

  They kept tight behind the mob of sheep, pushing them onwards with yells of ‘get a move on’, ‘yah buggers’ and ‘walk on, walk on’. The moon cast the sheep in a whitish glow and the ewes moved forward steadily. The animals spooked easily and had a tendency to dart this way and that. A leader could take a couple of hundred with her and before you knew it the mob was split.

  Jim reined in his horse and the two boys waited patiently as the sheep walked on ahead of their own accord. The ewes were getting tired. Even with the full moon it was easy to mislay the odd straggler in the grass.

  ‘Give them a minute or so,’ Will suggested. ‘Maybe one of the old girls at the front will remember where she’s heading and before you know it she will have drawn the rest of them through the gate with her.’

  The sheep stalled at the gateway and began to walk away.

  ‘You reckon?’ Jim raised his horse into a trot and drove the ewes towards the gate. They appeared to be heading straight for it but at the last moment they baulked. The mob split to go both left and right.

  Will did his best to turn them but no sooner did he try than they speared off in another direction. Jim was yelling abuse and spinning his horse left and right. The colt spun effortlessly as told, trotting in the opposite direction to the mob until finally the sheep were ringing in a tight formation near the gate. The ewes ran on and on in a circle, moving closer to the opening in the fence until finally they began jumping through the gateway.

  ‘Keep on them,’ Jim ordered, ‘keep the pressure on the blighters.’

  Will did as he was told. When the last of the mob were back in their paddock, he leant over in the saddle and slipped the chain across the post to shut the gate.

  Jim was waiting for him. ‘Well come on. If it ain’t Kirkland keeping an eye on us then it’ll be a thief for sure.’ The youth grinned. ‘Evan will have himself a rabbit shoot.’

  They turned their horses and galloped across the plains.

  Marcus placed a steadying hand on Margery’s nose. The horse shifted its weight, leaf-litter crunched underfoot. Great breaths of steam pooled around the mare’s nostrils and melted into the air. ‘Shush.’ The mare was flighty. He’d dismounted a half-mile back, hoping to quieten her, but Margery was having nothing of it. Marcus sniffed and wiped his dripping nose on the sleeve of the army issue great coat and continued leading the horse to the line of trees ahead. His own lungs were tight with the cold and it was way past the hour to be moving around in the dark, but he had no choice. The mob of sheep he’d been stealing from down near the river were gone and there’d been no sign of a straggler there this afternoon. With meat due at the general store tomorrow, he’d been forced to hurry the milking and set back out again in search of another mob. There’d been no time to let Flossy know that he would be late, again.

  Perch appeared through the timber, tail up, nose down.

  ‘Found anything, boy?’ Marcus gave the dog an absent pat and tied Margery’s reins to the branch of a box tree. There was action afoot tonight. He’d heard the yells out across the paddock and seen sheep being walked steadily by the light of the moon. Marcus figured the men to be thieves and while he didn’t want to be caught up with the likes of them, he needed a killer. Perch gave a bark and set off after a fox. The animal left a cloying scent behind as he darted back and forth between the trees and fallen timber, a blur of white and rust-coloured hair. ‘Figures,’ Marcus muttered, turning his attention back to the open paddock. Grass rustled beneath the moon. The sheep were gone.

  When next there was a crunch of twigs and branches, Perch was back herding three shorn sheep straight for him. Marcus gave a delighted smile. ‘Get ’em, Perch.’

  The dog sprang into action. Marcus broke into a run. Perch raced towards one of the sheep on the wing and bowled straight into the animal, knocking the ewe over. Marcus was by the dog’s side almost immediately, his knee pinning the sheep down while he pulled a knife. The animal let out a number of frightened bleats and then the blade was in its throat, an arc of blood cascading through the air. Marcus winked at his dog. ‘Good job.’

  ‘What have we got here? Marcus Todd?’

  The rifle in Marcus’s face was held by Evan Crawley. Behind him, his companion was heavyset with a nose tufted with hair.

  Perch growled.

  ‘Looks like we’ve got ourselves someone who’s trying to fill his tuckerbag.’

  Marcus stood slowly, his bloodied hands raised. At his feet, the sheep kicked its last. ‘I didn’t mean no harm, I’ve got a family to feed and –’

  ‘Dad.’

  ‘Will?’

  Will reined his horse in, Jim at his side. ‘What the heck are you doing here?’ Perch rushed to him, jumping up to rest his front paws on his leg. ‘Sit down, boy.’ The dog whined but did as he was told.

  Evan laughed. ‘Well, ain’t this something, a family reunion. I would never have thought you’d be one for stealing.’ He nodded to the tufted-nosed man. ‘Get that rifle of his, Sprout, just in case. We don’t want anyone getting excited.’

  Marcus dropped the knife on the ground as Sprout retrieved the rifle from the holster on Margery’s saddle.

  Marcus couldn’t believe that he’d travelled onto the property where his son was working. ‘I got lost,’ he said by way of explanation. A snap of twigs announced another two riders. Evan addressed them as Bob and Nicholson, and preceded to explain the scenario as if Marcus were entertainment at a sideshow.

  ‘You must be ten mile from home, Dad.’ Will still hadn’t dismounted. There was an edge to his voice, his face was pinched.

  ‘I didn’t mean to be here.’ He considered his options. He’d met Crawley on a couple of occasions, which would mean nothing to the head stockman of Condamine Station. Five men was too much, he could fight but not against those odds, besides these were the people his boy worked with and Will was with them.

  The older man cradled the rifle. ‘And where did you mean to be, mate, out yonder stealing off some other poor blighter?’

  Marcus wiped his hands on his trousers. ‘If it’s all the same to you, I’ll just go. I don’t want to cause any problems for my boy.’

  Evan gave a cackle that barely resembled a laugh. ‘It’s a bit late for that now, mate.’

  ‘He didn’t mean nothing by it, Mr Crawley. My dad’s a good man, we’ve just been doing it tough.’

  Evan took a cigarette from behind an ear and lit it. ‘Sure, and that makes it all right.’

  The other men were growing restless. Sprout made a show of playing with the length of rope coiled on his saddle.

  ‘Please,’ Will begged.

  ‘Take the sheep then, for your boy’s sake, mister.’ Evan exhaled smoke. ‘But if I see you on these lands again I’ll shoot you myself. I don’t have the time nor the inclination to bring in the law. I’m responsible for all the sheep on this here station and I’ll not have you or anyone else thieving on this land. Do you understand me?’

  ‘Yes, yes, sir.’
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  ‘I’ll be taking that access through your land when I feel like it.’

  ‘Of course,’ Marcus agreed, ‘I told Mr Kirkland the very same thing.’

  ‘Did you now? Well that’s real interesting to know. Real interesting. Get on with you then.’ Evan mounted his horse.

  Sprout held out the confiscated rifle and threw it to Marcus before spitting in the dirt and swinging up into the saddle of the gelding he rode.

  Joining the other men, Will looked over his shoulder as a low whistle sounded. Perch left his side immediately and trotted back to Marcus. His father was struggling to lift the slayed sheep onto Margery’s back.

  ‘Well,’ Evan rode close to Will, his leg touching his, ‘it seems like all that talk about not doing anything illegal was a load of crock.’

  ‘Pot calling the kettle black,’ Nicholson said priggishly.

  Sprout flanked Will on the opposite side. ‘I bet you the kid’s a Bible reader, Evan. It’s always the do-gooders that end up being the liars and the cheats. Most likely he got that inclination from his pa.’

  ‘My father doesn’t go to church. He doesn’t really believe in that stuff.’

  ‘Well then,’ Evan flicked the reins, ‘looks like we’ve got ourselves a heathen.’ He rode on ahead. ‘Me, well, I’ve always been partial to heathens.’

  One by one the men trotted past Will. Chalk and Jim were the last to overtake him.

  ‘That’s bad business,’ Jim whispered to him on passing. ‘Evan’s got you now.’

  ‘What do you mean “got me”?’

  ‘If you do anything wrong he’ll tell on your father and Mr Kirkland ain’t known for his kind heart.’

  Will tried to laugh away the boy’s comment. ‘It’s not like it’s a hanging offence.’

  The black man’s silence unnerved him.

  Chapter 42

  August, 1935 – The Australia Hotel, Sydney

  Abelena lifted the lid on the white cardboard box and turned back the tissue paper. Although she’d grown used to Tobias’s gifts, she’d worn very few of them. She knew he tried to buy her trust and her affection but his presents were fruitless, especially as Tobias remained wary of Abelena escaping and accordingly her outdoor excursions were limited. Education was to be the stuff of Abelena’s days. A widowed governess, Mrs Goward, remained her constant companion while in Sydney.

  ‘Do show me, my dear,’ the governess entreated as she tidied the books on the desk.

  Reading, writing and etiquette appeared to be Abelena’s major failings from Mrs Goward’s perspective. It was all they’d concentrated on this past week.

  ‘Come now, Abelena, most women would give their eye-teeth to have such a charming relation.’

  ‘Charming?’ Abelena muttered, but she lifted the dress from the box, a white card falling to the floor. The governess picked the handwritten note up from the carpet.

  ‘You read it,’ Abelena directed the woman as she fingered the dress material. Although she hated to admit it, the gown was very beautiful.

  Please join me tonight for dinner. I will call for you at six o’clock. Tobias

  ‘There now,’ Mrs Goward enthused, ‘and here you’ve been complaining about being locked indoors, my girl. Don’t give me that look. If you want to be treated like an adult, then act like one.’

  ‘Mr Wade didn’t employ you to boss me around.’ It wasn’t the first time she’d exchanged words with her tutor. Mrs Goward treated Tobias as if he were a saint. Holding the full-length sleeveless dress in front of her, Abelena studied her reflection in the long, oval mirror in the corner of the hotel room.

  ‘Look at that. Silk chiffon, if you don’t mind, and the very latest style,’ the governess cooed. ‘It suits you.’

  Abelena had to agree that it did. The chiffon was printed with stylised flowers and leaves in the shades of midnight blue, mauve and white. Full-skirted with diamond-shaped godets, it was certainly the loveliest gown Tobias had given her.

  ‘Of course only a young person with your colouring could wear it. It’s really quite startling.’

  ‘Well, I won’t be wearing it.’

  ‘Why ever not, child?’

  Abelena dumped the gown back in its box. ‘Because I’m not going out with him. You say I should act like an adult, well, what gives him the right to act as my gaoler?’

  Returning to the desk, Mrs Goward piled the school books in one corner and gathered up her handbag. At the door to Abelena’s room, she produced a key. ‘You do realise that the more you behave poorly, the less inclined Mr Wade will be to give you what you want most. Oh yes, I’ve seen you stare out that window. Time and again you’re distracted by what lies beyond these panes of glass. It’s not the city, I realise that. When you look down at the people and cars in the street below, you wince and shudder as if you’ve eaten something distasteful, but when you look at the sky, at the clouds, well,’ the older woman gave a click of her tongue, ‘you want your freedom, Abelena, the freedom to live your life as you choose. Do you not think that Mr Wade would give you that if he thought you appreciated him, if you were kindly to him, if he thought he could trust you?’ The governess stood silently for just a moment and then left the room. There was a soft click as the door was locked.

  ‘It’s easy for you to lecture,’ Abelena said crossly. She lay on the bed, silently cursing the woman who made her walk the length of her hotel room ten times every morning with a book on her head. Tobias would never allow Abelena to live the life she wanted, for in her ideal world Tobias Wade wouldn’t be a part of it. But there was something in the older woman’s words.

  Tobias had changed recently. The news of the death of his father in the twister had come as a huge shock to him. What surprised Abelena was his expectation that she would care about Edmund’s passing – the man who had turned her mother Serena away when she’d come to him for help. But Tobias was ignorant of Abelena’s feelings. He wanted to talk of the past, of his mother, of the good times shared with Wes and Sheriff Cadell and his father. She remained plainly disinterested and, for a number of days, his usual visits to her room after breakfast ceased. Abelena welcomed Tobias’s absence. There was little joy to be gained from the snippets Tobias shared of his business dealings or society life in the great city of Sydney. But of course his non-appearance was only fleeting. He’d left Oklahoma on bad terms with his father and had journeyed to the other side of the world with a girl who cared little for him. There was power in the knowledge that, for the moment, Tobias Wade had no-one else close to talk to. He too was alone. Alone and grieving, as she had grieved. As she still grieved for her lost family, and Abelena knew all too well that heartbreak could make a person weak.

  With a smile, she reached for the crumpled gown.

  The Australia Hotel was one of Sydney’s finest establishments, providing high quality accommodation, dining and entertainment to some of the city’s most distinguished visitors. Tobias was forever imparting the merits of the places they stayed at and tonight was no exception.

  ‘You’ve only seen the Castlereagh Street entrance, Abelena, but the extension on the northern side is really quite marvellous.’

  He had his hand on her elbow and Abelena allowed herself to be steered through the hotel’s streamlined interiors, which were linked by a sweeping oval stairway. The elongated flight of steps was set against an enclosing wall of black glass, incised with fantastic birds and foliage etched in silver.

  ‘Did I say how lovely you look this evening?’

  ‘Thank you.’ Abelena dragged her palm along the surface of the banister as they descended.

  The foyer was a striking Art Deco design. Abelena feigned wonder at the fantasy of black Carrara marble, black glass with silver etchings and numerous mirrors.

  ‘I’ve reservations in the dining room,’ Tobias told her, ‘but I did want you to see the rest of the establishment first.’

  The restaurant was lit by large chandeliers hanging from a twenty-foot ceiling. There were damask-
clothed tables, intimate booths and hovering waiters and even though a number of months had passed since Abelena’s introduction into the world of the privileged, she immediately felt uncomfortable. It almost made her laugh to think of the hours she’d spent day-dreaming about a rich, white man’s life when she was in Oklahoma. Of the times she’d yearned for money and food and new clothes and a life that wasn’t lived in the service of another. Now she was living what she’d once wished for and the hollowness of her new life frightened her. She sat stiffly at the table and allowed Tobias to order for them both – cauliflower soup, the roast of the day and trifle for dessert.

  ‘You have caused a small sensation with your arrival, Abelena,’ Tobias said approvingly. ‘Did you not see the admiring looks directed your way?’

  ‘No.’

  A waiter arrived with miniature crisp bread rolls, which he placed on small plates. Freshly baked bread. Abelena would never tire of the smell.

  ‘This is the place to stay in Sydney. All the great pastoral families dine here.’ Tobias took a sip of water from the crystal glass. ‘I made the acquaintance of a Mr Angus Gordon this morning. He’s aged in his mid-thirties, I would say, and of Scottish heritage. He’s one of the biggest landowners in New South Wales. They say his father founded Wangallon Station on stock theft, which I don’t doubt, considering the problems we’ve had to deal with on Condamine Station.’

  The soup arrived and Abelena watched as Tobias chose the appropriate spoon from the selection at his place-setting, then she followed suit.

  ‘Can I stay here while you visit the property?’ Abelena asked politely. ‘I quite like Mrs Goward.’

  ‘Well then, she must come with us.’

  Abelena drummed her fingers in her lap. ‘That wouldn’t be fair. She has family here.’

  ‘I couldn’t leave you here, Abelena.’

  ‘Of course not,’ she agreed. It was worth a try. ‘How long will we be in Australia?’

  Tobias slurped his soup noisily. ‘I know you don’t like it here, Abelena, but we’ve only just arrived.’