by Téa Cooper
‘Looked your fill?’ Rudi half turned and raised a shaggy eyebrow.
‘I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be. I invited you up here for the very same reason. I want a closer look and to know more about you.’
‘I don’t think there is any more to tell. Surely Sergey has told you why I wanted to leave Cottington Hill.’
‘Running away because you don’t want to marry. Sounds a childish exercise to me.’
Anger rose in her chest. A childish exercise? ‘It was not.’ What was childish about wanting to protect the property and people Pa loved?
‘Can’t see why you shouldn’t marry, same as every other woman.’ Rudi concentrated on the track, moving the horse from side to side to avoid the potholes and ruts, but his focus was on her no matter how bad the track. ‘Once you’re married you can do as you like. Most women do.’
‘I’m not most women. Cottington Hill belongs to me, belongs to my family. A married woman can’t own property, can’t fight for her rights or the rights of those on the property. I can’t continue my father’s work. All I can do is produce heirs and even they will become the property of my husband.’
‘So you ran away?’
‘I haven’t run away. I’m simply staying away until my twenty-first birthday and then I can inherit Cottington Hill in my own right.’
‘Like your namesake.’
‘My namesake?’
‘Catherine the Great. Now she was an independent woman. Ruled Russia as well, if not better, than any man. Women in Russia have had the right to their own property for close to a hundred years, married or not.’
‘Sadly this isn’t Russia, and I don’t want to marry.’
‘Don’t talk rubbish. Never marry? Be alone?’ He turned then and fixed his dark gaze on her.
‘You’re not married.’ Whatever possessed her to say that? She had no idea whether Rudi had married or not. She’d overstepped every mark, slipped into a false sense of security riding along next to him, like she had with Pa.
‘No, I’ve never married.’ He grinned at her. ‘But I know what it is to love.’
There, she had really put her foot into it. His wife had probably died. Why couldn’t she learn to keep her mouth shut? Just because they were in the middle of nowhere leading a caravan of drays and wagons heavens knew where didn’t mean she should throw away all sense of decorum.
‘Valentina has held my heart since the moment of her birth. She was like my own daughter.’
‘Valentina,’ she squawked. Everything came back to Valentina. First Sergey and now Rudi.
‘The moment she opened those big brown eyes and stared into my soul she captured my heart. She was a matter of hours old. She represented everything we’d lost and everything we hoped to find in this godforsaken land. Then when Sergey and his brother were born I lost a little more of my heart. Those three were the children I would never have.’ He flicked the tip of his whip over his boot. ‘Now this. Not much good to anyone now.’
‘Brother? Sergey has a brother? He didn’t mention a brother, only Valentina.’
Rudi cleared his throat. ‘Here he comes now. In a better mood than before, I hope. Perhaps you should ask him about Nikolas, that brother of his. And the wild chase he’s leading us on.’
Thirteen
The sky was a faultless blue and the clean, crisp scent of the bush was everywhere. The light breeze lifted Sergey’s hair from his neck. As the day progressed the ground become more uneven with the treacherous rocks shifting and sliding with every step, making it slow going for everyone. The sound of the horses’ hooves and the squeaking of the wheels echoed in the narrow passes. Tempers had frayed and they still had to face Cox’s Gap and Murrumbo Gap, two long hard climbs no matter what Rudi might think. The wagons and drays struggled only a few miles every day, the horses exhausted and every man and woman tense and terse.
Catherine spent most of her time with the other women, leading the horses, picking their way forward, encouraging them on. He’d hardly had a moment alone with her. Rudi waved his whip in the air, gesturing for him to come alongside the buggy.
‘Something I’ve been meaning to say to you.’
Now what?
‘We’ll be back in civilisation before too long and I’m not having my circus get itself a bad name.’
‘Why should that happen?’
‘Lame I might be, stupid I’m not. I’ve got eyes. And you can’t keep yours off Catherine. I’ll not have a reputation as a Madam. Rudi’s Circus is no whore house.’
Sergey’s head filled with erotic images of Catherine lying back, her hair fanned across a silken pillow and elegant arm thrown above her head. ‘What the hell do you mean by that?’
‘Don’t you get any ideas in your head. That’s what. There’ll be no shared tents, no nonsense. You’ll bunk in with me from now on. Catherine’s under my protection. You harm a hair on her head and you’ll have me to deal with. Get it?’
He had no intention of harming a strand of her sun-kissed hair or cause a shadow to darken those laughing sky-blue eyes. ‘While there’s breath in my body no harm will come to Catherine. By the way, I won’t be sharing any tent with you, or anyone else.’ As much as he’d like to. He rather hoped their journey would never end. At some point during the days since they’d left Maitland he’d come to believe there might be more to life than his interminable search for justice.
He made no further comment, he couldn’t, his throat turned as dry as the narrow track they followed.
Catherine breathed a sigh of relief as they crested the last of the ridges. The sight of a ramshackle bark humpy nestled in a bend of the river lifted her spirits. She gave a whoop of excitement and cantered down ahead of the circus caravan, taking a short cut across the river flats until she picked up a well-worn track.
A sign swung from a rusted chain. Bylong.
She drew Bessie to a halt and sat waiting, inhaling the scent of freshly baked bread and something, lamb perhaps, roasting on the huge spits in front of the humpy. The surrounding accommodation paddocks were full of noisy teamsters, horses and bullocks, pitched tents and roaring fires.
‘I wondered what had caught your attention.’ Sergey pulled up beside her and sat back surveying the scene. ‘Maybe we’ll have a night off.’ He groaned with pleasure. ‘Rudi’ll be pleased to see the back of those passes. We all will.’
‘The paddock behind the inn is empty, perhaps we can camp there.’
‘Looks good to me. Let’s go and find out what the story is.’ He swung his long leg over Tsar’s neck and sprang onto the ground before reaching out his arms and scooping her from the saddle.
‘Put me down!’ She struggled out of his arms and turned to find herself face to face with a young bloke with a broad grin and dancing eyes.
‘What have we got here then?’ The man pointed to the circus caravan meandering across the river flats and, as if in answer the band struck up, the insistent beat of the drum punctuated by the bright and cheerful quivering of the tin whistles.
‘Rudi’s Equestrian Circus at your service.’ Sergey swept one of his outrageous bows, making the young bloke roar with laughter.
‘Just what we need, a bit of entertainment to liven up the evening.’
‘Let me introduce you to the Currency Lass, our star attraction.’
Catherine’s stomach swooped and her mouth dried. ‘But I’m not … we’re not …’ She wasn’t ready. Not yet. Sure, she’d been practising, every day especially when no one was watching, riding without a saddle, using her knees and the tiny shifts of her weight just the way Sergey had shown her, even finding a secluded spot to perfect the pirouettes and, although she hadn’t shown Sergey, she and Bessie had almost mastered the art of rearing.
‘In that case I’ll make you a deal. A meal for everyone in your troupe, and the horses, in exchange for a show from the Currency Lass.’ The young man winked at her and folded his arms, his head tipped to one side.
‘No. I’m afra
id I …’
‘Throw in a bottle of rum for Rudi and you might have a deal.’
What was Sergey saying? She wasn’t ready. It wasn’t supposed to be like this. She’d expected they’d wait until they got to the goldfields and then maybe one trick the first night and build on it. ‘Sergey …’
‘You’ll be wonderful. Trust me.’ He gave her a quick squeeze around the waist. ‘We’ll go and set up camp and I’ll let you know,’ Sergey said to the man.
‘Come on.’ Sergey grabbed her hand and pulled her back to the horses.
‘Sergey, I can’t.’
‘Yes, you can! It’s a great way to start. Rudi will agree.’
That was what she was worried about.
By the time they’d unpacked the essentials the light had faded and there was no getting out of it. Rudi thought her impromptu performance was a wonderful idea, in fact the whole troupe did. Timmy and Zac set up a makeshift arena marked by flares while Minnie and May rummaged through a large chest, throwing clothes this way and that in a search for the perfect costume for the Currency Lass. Rudi watched the antics ringside from his parked buggy and launched into his free bottle of rum.
Catherine upended her cup of chamomile tea onto the grass. She couldn’t eat, couldn’t even drink. The mass of swirls and twirls in her stomach would rival one of Jymie’s juggling tricks. Not that he’d be doing any tonight. He, along with the entire troupe and every man and his bullock for miles around, was sitting waiting. Waiting for her!
‘Are you ready?’ A frown drifted across Sergey’s face as he peered at her. ‘You’ve no need to be nervous. You’re the best horsewoman I’ve ever seen.’
She turned away from him, tugging at her shirt and pushing it into the band of the white breeches Minnie had insisted she should wear. Whatever had possessed her to think she could do this? Run away and become a trick circus rider? Madness. Absolute complete and utter madness. An irresponsible childish dream. ‘What happens if I let you all down?’
‘You won’t. I’ll be there if you need me. Come here.’ Sergey stepped up behind her and settled something onto her shoulders. Something heavy and warm, soft, silky. ‘What is it?’
‘A cape. A golden cape for a golden girl. My currency lass.’ He fastened the clasp at her neck and dropped a kiss onto her forehead. ‘That’s for luck. Not that you’ll need it. Up you go.’ He scooped her into his arms, strode across the ring and lifted her onto Bessie’s back. ‘It’s your night.’
The flares dimmed and the music ceased. All she could hear was the pounding of her blood. Then a single flare blazed to life in the centre of the ring and Bessie moved forwards. Slowly and sedately, her feet lifting high as if she knew that every step mattered.
When they reached the centre of the ring Bessie stopped, her gaze fixed on Sergey standing to the side. He lifted his arm high above his head and Bessie reared onto her back legs.
Catherine had done nothing.
Even from a distance the maître du cirque could orchestrate the show. Catherine clenched her knees and lifted one hand in a quivering wave, then brought Bessie down, unable to control the huge grin lighting her face and the excitement surging through her blood. ‘Welcome to Rudi’s Equestrian Circus.’ Her voice rang loud and clear in the night air and all the flares sprang to life.
Bessie reared again, performed several neat pirouettes then broke into a canter, around and around the makeshift ring. A memory of Princess Valentina flashed before her eyes and Catherine released her golden cape. It swirled high then settled in a pool of sparkling light in the centre of the ring.
The band struck up and the drumbeat hammered its way into her heart.
Three laps around the ring, arms outstretched, spinning and twisting this way and that.
The crowd leapt up as one, roaring its approval, feet hammering, hands clapping and then a sudden hush descended.
Hoofbeats sounded. Tsar cantered alongside Bessie, the two horses stepping in perfect time. The feather-light touch of Sergey’s fingers grazed her skin, his warm weight behind her, the salty tang of his sweat.
His muscled forearms steadied her until she stood arms outstretched, on his shoulders.
Flying, flying like a bird.
Every one of the tricks they’d practised since they left Cottington went off without a hitch and not for one moment did Sergey regret asking Catherine to come with them. Even Rudi had fallen under the spell of his golden girl, his currency lass. Tsar had known, from that very first moment, she’d captivated his heart, and now she held everyone else’s in the palm of her hand.
Once they left Bylong they were rarely apart. They rode together every day, her scent surrounding him, mingling with the fresh air and the eucalyptus. If their luck and the decent weather continued they’d reach the Turon River in a matter of days.
‘Would you like to share some lunch with me? Rudi’s stopping down by the river. I thought we could climb up and get an idea of what’s in store,’ Sergey asked her. ‘The view will be worth it.’
They left the horses and scrambled the last few feet, where they could see the path meandering down into the valley and the river weaving its way through the grasslands.
He clamped some cheese and cold mutton between a chunk of damper and then stretched out on the ground beside her. ‘As much as I love everyone’s company it’s nice to be quiet.’
Catherine lay back on the grass and he chased a strand of hair from her cheek then twisted it around his fingers.
‘I didn’t know you had a brother as well as a sister.’
He let her hair fall from his fingers. ‘Who told you that?’
‘Rudi. He said I should ask you about him.’
Damn Rudi. He’d have words with him; tell him to back off, interfering with his talk of Nikolas. His lewd comments about Catherine still rankled. Sergey didn’t want a hair on her beautiful head harmed, didn’t want her in any way embroiled in the darker side of his life. ‘A younger brother, Nikolas.’
‘Why isn’t he with the circus?’
The question had to come. He knew it would. What should he say? He didn’t want to lie to her, didn’t want to involve her. ‘He doesn’t ride.’
He drew her against his body, lifted his hands to frame her face and lowered his mouth to hers.
Her warm firm lips met his and want surged through him, pushing all thoughts of Nikolas aside. He pulled her in, felt her body soften beneath his.
He deepened his kiss, tracing the curves and lines of her body, as he’d wanted to do from the very first moment.
She moved beneath him then she gave a wince and rolled aside. He pulled back, his hands cupping her face again. ‘What am I thinking of?’ She’d driven him almost to the edge; he wanted her so much he could think of nothing else. A few minutes more and Rudi’s warnings would have become the truth.
She offered him a heart-stopping smile and he swooped in for another kiss. When they got to the Turon he’d be hunting up a minister.
When we get to the Turon—he couldn’t marry her. Involve her in his godforsaken chase. She deserved better than that. ‘We can’t do this.’
Her body stilled beneath his hands and she struggled, pulling back, trying to escape. He sat up and she brushed the dust from her shirt and smoothed back her hair.
‘You’re right.’ She turned away as though she could no longer bear to look at him. ‘I can never accept any man.’
It was as though she could read his mind.
The rest of the day passed in a strained silence. There was little or no time to speak to her, never mind be alone and apologise for his outrageous behaviour. His insides churned every time he relived the moment, the disappointment and remorse that flared in her eyes. What had possessed him?
‘What the hell’s going on?’ Rudi drew the buggy to a halt as they crested the summit and shaded his eyes. ‘Looks like there’s a sea of people down there.’ He pointed east at the movement in the valley sweeping towards the river.
The road wa
s clogged with people. Some pushing barrows, others with canvas swags slung on their backs or shovels strapped across their shoulders, all surging in the same direction. ‘That’s the road from Sydney,’ said Rudi.
‘Gold diggers, I’d guess. Seeking a place to pitch a tent and stake a claim,’ Sergey replied. Maitland had emptied. If this was anything to go by, Sydney had too, maybe even Melbourne. ‘Proves we’re on the right track.’
‘I’ve known that since we started. You and Catherine ride ahead. Leave us to battle through that lot in our own time. It’ll take a while. We’ve got no chance of getting through this mess with the wagons. See if you can find us a campsite. As close as you can to the river and not too far from the diggings.’
‘That’s a big ask. The bloke in Bylong said they’d have claims pegged out all along the riverbanks.’
‘Do your best. We’ll follow this mob along the main track so you’ll know where to find us if we don’t find you first.’
With some sort of unspoken pact he and Catherine had ridden separately since he’d kissed her, and he missed her, regretted his impetuosity. He nudged Tsar back to the end of the caravan where Catherine rode next to the dray with Timmy and Zac. ‘Looks like we’re getting close, road up ahead is slow.’
She lifted her head at his words, her sad eyes shooting a pang of remorse through him. He had no business toying with her heart, there was no place in his life for love. Not until he’d tracked down the man responsible for Nikolas’s death. ‘Rudi wants us to ride ahead, see if we can find a campsite.’ He held her gaze.
Catherine had long ago given up any pretence of covering her head, and her hair billowed around her face, whipped by the breeze. Even her unblemished skin had become a light golden colour, as smooth as silk.
She opened her mouth, perhaps to refuse his company, then snapped it shut and trotted ahead of the caravan, and rode up the hill and down towards the road.
‘Get a bloody move on.’ Rudi’s voice echoed after them. ‘Or we’ll never find a campsite.’
She eased Bessie into the stream of people and he followed when she edged her way to the side of the track.