The Heart of Thornton Creek

by Bonnie Leon

  Daniel scanned the telegram a second time. “Urgent. Red water. Return home immediately.” It was signed “Bertram Thornton.”

  Daniel clenched his teeth in frustration. Red water was a devastating disease that could destroy their herds, but his presence wasn’t vital. There were others who could help. He squared his jaw and folded the telegram.

  I have to go. He’ll accept nothing less. But what about Rebecca? She needs me. For days his mind had been filled with nothing but her. In the weeks since her father’s death, he’d sought her out on several occasions, and he believed they’d formed a true and lasting friendship. He’d hoped that in time something more might develop between them. He wasn’t certain that he didn’t already love her. He admired her—not just her beauty but her strength, knowledge, and indomitable spirit.

  His mind returned to his father. He’d wanted Daniel to marry Meghan Linnell. Although they had been friends since childhood, Daniel had never thought of her as a good match. If he brought home a bride, he’d be free of his father’s expectations.

  Rebecca had no future in Boston. She and her aunt now lived with Mildred’s sister and brother-in-law and their five children. Rebecca was trying to make the best of it, but he knew she felt wretched. Her father and her dreams had been snatched from her, leaving few options—marry well or become a teacher or a companion.

  He slid the telegram into his coat pocket and settled his hat on his head. He needed more time. “Lord in heaven,” he said, “I can’t stay and I can’t go. Tell me what to do.” He closed his eyes. Rebecca didn’t love him, and he wasn’t certain his feelings were anything more than infatuation, yet they complemented each other. He was certain they could make a go of it. He could offer her better than Boston.

  Rebecca was used to the best. How would she see Queensland? Living on the station wasn’t grand, but she’d be free of the societal constraints of Boston and the misery of being a poor relation taken in out of necessity. She would be good for the station—bringing innovation and a new depth of knowledge to Douloo.

  His mind flickered to his father. He’d be angry. And the constraints he could press upon Rebecca might be worse than what she now faced. He hadn’t even acknowledged his eldest son’s death. Still, Daniel hoped he could do better by her. He was certain that the longing he felt for Rebecca would only intensify if a continent and an ocean lay between them.

  He would marry her. He had to make her see that there was no other alternative.

  5

  Daniel stepped over a log that had washed up on the beach, then took Rebecca’s hand to assist her. She stopped and stood atop the bleached-out tree, gazing at the curl of fog moving ashore.

  Daniel felt the ache that showed on her face but was helpless to relieve her sorrow. Such grief could only be privately reconciled.

  Finally, clutching her skirt in one hand, Rebecca stepped off the log and onto the rocky beach. Her breath fogged in the cold bay air as she moved along the seashore. With a shiver, she huddled deeper into her fur-lined coat.

  “You cold?” Daniel asked. “We can go back if you like.”

  “No. I’m fine. It’s difficult to believe that yesterday it was fair and warm. Today it feels like winter.”

  “Back home in Queensland it’s heating up. We’re coming into summer.”

  “Strange to realize our seasons are opposite each other.” Rebecca bent and picked up a smooth, flat stone. “Thank you for rescuing me from my cousins.” She nearly smiled.

  “Tough, eh?”

  “Yes. It’s not that they’re ill-mannered, but sometimes the house is in pandemonium. At those times, I’d like to be almost anywhere else.” She tossed the stone into the surf. “Sometimes I feel as if I’ve been thrown into prison. My aunt and uncle are good people, but five children in such a small house is simply too much.” She sighed. “The idea of teaching and living in a boarding house . . .” She shook her head. “I can’t stay where I am. In spite of their kindness, I know I’m a burden to them.”

  “I dare say, you’ll be better off when you can find an appointment of your own.”

  “The word appointment sounds horrid. I have a vision of ending up as a nanny for some upper-class family with a handful of spoiled children.” She shuddered. “And poor Aunt Mildred. What’s to become of her? She hasn’t any alternative but to stay.”

  “I’m sorry, Rebecca.” Daniel pulled the telegram out of his pocket. “I . . . heard from my father. He needs me at home. So I’ll be on my way soon.”

  “You’re leaving?” Rebecca’s voice held true disappointment.

  Daniel nodded, wondering if she might care for him more deeply than he’d thought.

  “I’ll miss you. You’ve been a good friend to me these last weeks.” Her eyes filled with tears. “My father liked you—he told me so.”

  Using his thumb, Daniel gently wiped moisture from her cheeks. “He was a fine bloke.”

  Managing a tremulous smile, Rebecca turned and continued walking.

  “So you’ll go into teaching, then?”

  “I don’t suppose I have any other choice. It’s the only thing a woman can do other than be a seamstress or nanny. And no one would want something I’d sewn.” She sighed. “It’s not fair—being a woman. Our choices are made for us, and even those are few.”

  “You’re right there.” Daniel stopped. “There might be another choice for you.”

  Rebecca stared at him, her dark eyes wide. “And what might that be?”

  “Come to Queensland.”

  “What? But I couldn’t . . .”

  “Marry me. I’ll take care of you. Douloo is a fine place. You’d be happy there. Women still struggle some like they do everywhere, but I’d say they’re given a fair go of it. And there’s enough open country that everyone can feel free.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Never more.”

  “But, Daniel, we’re . . . only friends.”

  “I care for you deeply. And in time . . . Well, in time one never knows. I’ve not known anyone like you—educated and genteel but gutsy—like a true Australian. You’d do well there.”

  “Australia? I must say, the idea has appeal. But what will I do about my aunt Mildred? I can’t leave her.”

  “We can take her along.”

  “Oh no. She’d never go. She was born in New England, and she’ll die here.”

  Rebecca turned serious eyes on Daniel. “I think very highly of you . . . but I don’t love you.” She picked up a small, broken shell and studied it. “We’d have a marriage of convenience. Is that what you want?”

  “How do you know it would be like that? We’re grand friends, and maybe we could be more. We’ve had a fine time together.”

  “I can’t decide just like that. I need time.”

  “I haven’t much time to give you. My father’s counting on me to come right away.”

  Rebecca took a deep breath. “Can I let you know tomorrow?”

  “Of course.”

  Rebecca was thankful for the quiet of the garden. Living among such a large family meant there were few moments of serenity. She walked beside her aunt Mildred, wondering just how she would tell her about Daniel’s proposal. It seemed outlandish, and yet marriages of convenience happened every day. She might as well just come out with it.

  “Auntie,” Rebecca said softly, “Daniel’s asked me to marry him.”

  Mildred raised an eyebrow and continued walking. “It’s lovely having the children away at school.”

  “Yes.” Rebecca placed a hand on her aunt’s arm. “I’m not sure what to do.”

  Mildred stopped. “Do you love him?”

  “No. I like him very much though.”

  Mildred moved toward a heavy-bodied oak. “Love is too highly rated.” She brushed leaves from a bench and sat. “Daniel’s a fine man.”

  Rebecca sat beside her. “If I did marry him, would you consider coming with us? I can’t imagine going off to the other side of the world and leaving
you here. I know he’d welcome you. In fact, he suggested that you might like to join us.”

  “No. I won’t leave Boston. This is my home. I’ll do quite well right here with my sister. She needs me, what with all the children and her charity activities.” Mildred reached for Rebecca’s hand. “It’s your turn for an adventure. You’ll be off to a new land, a new life.” Her eyes turned sad. “I’ll miss you, but . . .”

  “I don’t even know if I want to go. All I do know is that I don’t want to depend on my aunt and uncle, and I don’t want to become a schoolteacher or some woman’s companion. I want more.”

  “You always have.”

  Rebecca looked at her hands. “Why did Father have to die?”

  “Death is part of life—a preset engagement each of us has with our Creator. Who are we to argue with providence?” Mildred smiled. “I miss Charles, but I know he’s right where he belongs. And I believe he would have approved of a marriage between you and Daniel. He thought a lot of that young man. His father’s holdings are extensive—so you would be well married. That would be a comfort to your father and to me. Charles always admired your mother’s sense of adventure—this would be your adventure.” She studied Rebecca. “Audrey was beautiful and headstrong, just like you.”

  “I never truly planned on marrying. Whenever it did enter my mind I always thought that if it happened it would be with someone I love.”

  “Many couples begin without love, but over time it can grow. There’s no reason to believe that won’t happen for you and Daniel.”

  “I’d be so far away. I’d miss you terribly.”

  Mildred compressed her thin lips. “And I’d miss you. But there is one fact we cannot change in this life—we’re women, and we must be practical. I would say you should count your blessings—a handsome man who is financially well off and clearly well mannered and kind wants to marry you. It could be worse.”

  “So you’re saying I ought to marry him?”

  Mildred watched a bee move among the fading garden. “I believe you should consider it. But . . . only you can decide what is right for you.” She circled an arm around Rebecca’s shoulders and offered a sympathetic smile. “However, necessity is often our guide.”

  Rebecca loathed her lack of choices. It was all so unfair. She should have been born a man. She tried to imagine life as Daniel’s wife. The picture wasn’t so terrible. He was handsome and kind. The time they’d spent together had been pleasant. Mildred’s words echoed in her mind: You could do worse.

  Maybe women in Australia have more freedom to be who they are, she thought. She looked about the comfortable but tiny room with its flowered wallpaper and very small window that peeked out from beneath the eves. She walked to the window and looked down on the tidy yard. It wasn’t her yard, and this wasn’t her house. The idea of an Australian adventure was appealing. If she lived in Queensland, she wouldn’t be restricted by Boston’s societal guidelines.

  Her thoughts wandered to Daniel. As her husband he would have the right to rule her life. The idea grated. But what better prospects did she have? He’d told her life at Douloo wasn’t dull; at least she would have something to look forward to. Rebecca closed her eyes. Father, what should I do? The sting of his absence brought tears. I need to know what to do. Please tell me.

  Rebecca sat on a garden bench, fall sunshine warming her, and waited for Daniel to finish speaking to her uncle. She imagined the meeting in the library—her serious-minded uncle grilling Daniel while hoping for a way out of his obligation to his niece. And Daniel—would he present a case of devotion or pity? She cringed inwardly. If only there were some other way.

  Footsteps clicked on the cobblestone walkway. Rebecca didn’t look up. She knew it was him. Shiny black boots stopped directly in front of her. She forced her eyes upward.

  Daniel looked down at her. “May I sit?”

  “Yes, please.” Rebecca scooted to the left of the bench to offer more room. Her heart thudded. She still wasn’t certain what her answer would be.

  “I might as well come right to it, then. I spoke to your uncle, and he’s given me his blessing.”

  Rebecca willed herself to look at Daniel. He was quite handsome, with a strong, square jaw, startling blue eyes, and blond hair that needed a cut. He looked at her with compassion. He’s asking me out of pity. Well, I won’t have it.

  “Will you marry me?”

  “Why do you want to marry me, Daniel?”

  He hesitated, then said, “I think highly of you—your strength of character is admirable. You’ll make a fine wife and a good mother to my children.”

  “I have nothing of consequence to bring into a marriage.”

  “You have yourself. And that’s enough.”

  Rebecca pulled out a handkerchief that had been tucked inside her sleeve. “I’ve given your proposal much thought.” She twisted the handkerchief. “And I find myself in a quandary. As you well know, I never planned to marry—I had much higher aspirations. I doubt I’ll make a good wife.”

  “You belittle yourself unnecessarily. I will be proud to have you on my arm.” Daniel offered a warm smile.

  For a moment Rebecca thought maybe she could love Daniel. She squared her shoulders. “I won’t be told what to do.”

  “I believe God asked husbands to love their wives, not order them about. I will do my best to respect your ideals.”

  Rebecca turned her attention to a tiny bird flitting from branch to branch on a nearby bush. Why hadn’t he flown south? Soon winter would arrive and he’d be trapped here, dependent on the few crumbs offered by the kindhearted. What of her? If she remained while Daniel sailed away, would she face the same kind of cruel reality?

  She looked straight into his eyes. “All right. I’ll marry you. And I’ll do my best to honor you as a wife.”

  Even with a sleeper car, the nine-day trek across the States was exhausting and agonizing to the body. The tiny bed was lumpy and hard, the room cramped, and the food barely tolerable. But Rebecca dared not complain, not even to herself, for each time she made a trip to the dining car she was reminded of her good fortune. Passengers in coach sat on hard benches with no place to lay their heads, and many of the women tended fidgety, cranky children.

  Mile after mile clipped by. For the first time Rebecca understood the vastness of America. She’d never traveled so far overland, and the immensity of the country astonished her. When Daniel explained that the empty plains reminded him of home, she was not reassured. The open prairies gave her an uncomfortable sensation of space and lack of restraint. Strangely, these were things she’d always thought she wanted.

  Beyond the plains, the train chugged over rugged mountains, rattled across wooden trestles, and clattered through dark forests. In spite of the circumstances, Rebecca found herself eagerly studying antelope, buffalo, and a strange-looking bird called a prairie chicken. They hadn’t yet left the United States, and already the adventure had begun.

  Although she didn’t love Daniel, she believed it wrong to withhold any part of herself from him. The vows exchanged were made before God and were not to be taken lightly. She’d faced their first evening together as husband and wife with trepidation, but the intimate bonding with Daniel had taken her by surprise. It had not been altogether unpleasant, and she’d been amazed to discover a passionate part of herself she’d not known existed. Still, she continued to feel awkward and unlike a wife.

  When they arrived in San Francisco, Rebecca was too exhausted to take in the sights of the impressive city. She went straight to their hotel room and slept—fourteen hours straight. However, before boarding the ship, they walked the streets of the largest city on the West Coast, rode a cable car to the top of Nob Hill, where impressive mansions looked down on San Francisco Bay, and dined at an exquisite restaurant overlooking the harbor. She’d never expected San Francisco to be so cosmopolitan.

  As the days passed, Rebecca tried to pry more information from Daniel about his family, but he said little, especi
ally about his father. She felt a growing anxiety about her father-in-law. She wanted and needed a father now and was curious about the man who was to take that role in her life. Was Daniel hiding something? Fear of what that might be settled in the back of Rebecca’s mind, where it lay coiled like a snake waiting to strike.

  The day to sail arrived, and Rebecca felt a tug of fear and sorrow. Now that her new life prepared to carry her away, she didn’t feel ready to say farewell to the old one. She wished she hadn’t married Daniel. What was she stepping into?

  The steamer that would carry them across the Pacific sat alongside the pier, looking magnificent. It gleamed beneath a bright California sun.

  “This is amazing,” Rebecca said as they boarded.

  “Only the best for my wife.”

  “Passage must be very expensive.”

  “It is. But no worries. We’ve plenty of money.”

  “As you have said. But I’m becoming more and more curious about the station and our home. Is it so lavish?”

  “The house is grand but not as extravagant as this. We have the finest cattle in the district and the best horses. You won’t be disappointed.” He grinned.

  “You said it’s called Douloo. What does that mean?”

  “It’s Greek, a biblical term. My grandfather was very religious. It means ‘to be subjugated to,’ like a bond of mutual support, or it can mean ‘bondage.’ We and the land belong to each other. We try to make the land submit, but in truth it’s us who must submit to it.”

  “That’s very interesting,” Rebecca said, feeling unsettled.

  Rebecca and Daniel followed a porter to their room. It was the most luxurious ship Rebecca had ever seen. She’d traveled abroad before but never on such a beautiful ocean liner. The promenade deck was wide and spacious, with lounge chairs lined up along the bulkhead. She managed to peek inside a dining saloon as they passed. It was elegant and large. Crystal had been set out on lace-covered tables surrounded by red velvet, cushioned chairs. There were pilasters and brackets of teak, which had been notched with gold leaf, and crystal lamps bathed it all in a soft glow.