Heart of the Country

by Tricia Stringer

  “The land to the north will be taken up next,” George said.

  “You think so?” Septimus followed the man’s gaze.

  “I’m sure of it.”

  “Will you make a claim?”

  “It will require some financing. I’ve got the labour with my big family but this long dry spell has been hard on our savings.”

  Septimus studied the man’s profile. Perhaps there was an opportunity here. “I am a humble merchant, Mr Smith.” He pulled his hat from his head and held it in his hands. “I have no desire to work the land, but I have money to invest. Perhaps we could come to a mutually beneficial arrangement.”

  Septimus felt the gaze of the older man sweep over him. He arranged his face in a small smile and looked up into the dark blue eyes that studied him. Septimus saw a glimmer of curiosity.

  “You don’t understand farming?” George said but Septimus could see he was truly interested.

  “I wouldn’t interfere in the running of things, of course. It would be a kind of loan for which I would receive some return once the property made some money.”

  George lifted his own hat from his head and ran his fingers through his hair. “Perhaps,” he said.

  Septimus could see the man was proud. He’d made his own way thus far and wasn’t one to take help easily. “You’ve worked this land with no one but you and your sons. It’s a fine achievement. If it’s only money that’s stopping you from expanding, then perhaps we can come to some sort of agreement. One that would help your sons get their own places.” He swept his arm towards the north. “The northerly runs are there for the taking.”

  “You might be right, Mr Wiltshire.” George clasped Septimus on the shoulder and walked him towards the hut. “Perhaps we could discuss it further with Edmund. My eldest son is visiting his wife-to-be but he should be home for the evening meal.”

  Septimus stopped, forcing George to do the same. He turned so that the big hand slid from his shoulder. “I think this arrangement is best made between you and me, George, don’t you? The less complicated the better. What will it matter to your sons where the money comes from? You will soon have it paid back, I am sure.” Once again Septimus looked at George with a smile.

  George held his gaze. Septimus could see the desire in his look.

  “Have you seen this land, Mr Smith?” Septimus asked.

  “No.” George stopped by his front verandah and looked towards the gushing creek. “I am expecting my son Jacob back any day. He’s gone exploring with our neighbour, Mr Baker.”

  Septimus clenched his jaw. There could be many Bakers but he was always wary of running into Thomas again one day. He knew the man was in the bush somewhere. He’d passed him the day he’d despatched Jed Burch. Septimus had been shocked to see Baker sitting atop a horse on the rough road not far beyond the inn. He’d nearly run the fool down.

  “Is Baker an older man?” he said.

  “No.” George chuckled. “Young and wet behind the ears when he first arrived, but he’s been a fast learner. You have to be to survive out here. Thomas is his name.”

  Septimus sucked in a breath.

  “Do you know him?” George said.

  “No. I once knew another Baker, an older man,” Septimus said quickly. “We lost touch.”

  “Can’t be related to Thomas then. He’s on his own. Parents both dead and no siblings.”

  “Poor chap,” Septimus said and followed George’s gaze as he looked towards the creek again.

  “I’m hoping Baker and my son will return safely with good news very soon.”

  Septimus pushed his hat further onto his head. “It’s time for my wife and me to pack up and move on, Mr Smith.” He held out a hand. “Thank you for your hospitality.”

  “But we thought you were staying. I’m sure my wife and daughter were looking forward to company at our table tonight.”

  “That’s very kind of you.” Septimus looked around, trying to think of an excuse to leave after saying they would stay another night. The creek was still high with rushing water. “It’s that rain, you see. We may have trouble passing the creeks in some places. I am eager to return to Adelaide and find out about these pastoral leases. What do you say, Mr Smith?” He thrust out his hand.

  Once again the other man studied him closely then his lips turned up in a smile. “It’s George,” he said and took the offered hand in a firm grip.

  “And you must call me Septimus.”

  “Then I think our arrangement could be of mutual benefit, Septimus.”

  “I agree, but I would prefer to keep it between ourselves. There are other hawkers like myself who aren’t doing so well, George. If they got wind that I had money to invest in land it might make life difficult.” He clutched his hat to his chest. “I’m concerned for my dear wife of course.”

  “Of course. I agree,” George said. “This will be between you and me.”

  They shook hands again then Septimus turned on his heel and strode towards the high ground further along the creek, where Harriet was entertaining the ladies.

  Thirty-three

  The Reverend Jones hoisted himself up from the log he’d been sitting on. He was a young man but already his head was balding. Lizzie could see it was pink on top where the sunlight had reached it through the dappled shade.

  “Today has certainly been a most joyous occasion,” he proclaimed. “So many able to gather in God’s name is always something to be thankful for in this vast new land.”

  Lizzie returned his smile. She was so glad they’d had warning he was coming. Among the neighbours who had joined them for the service in the shearing shed was Thomas. The others had gone home again but he had stayed for the picnic along with Edmund’s fiancé, Eliza. They had all been relaxing after the large meal they’d shared in the shade along the bank of the creek. Thomas sat near Lizzie, his back against the trunk of a tree, his eyes closed. She had been surreptitiously studying his handsome face while the conversation flowed around her.

  “Thank you for providing such a wonderful picnic, Anne.” Jones pushed his broad-brimmed black hat firmly back on to his head. “We should discuss the upcoming nuptials and then I must take my leave.”

  “We’re so glad you could be with us today and we could have a proper service.” Lizzie’s mother beamed at the reverend.

  “I’ve a large flock spread far and wide.” He turned his flushed face to George. “You would understand the work that takes.”

  “My flock don’t feed me as well as you have been, Reverend.”

  Lizzie smiled at the serious face her father pulled. He wasn’t so fond of the young priest. He thought him far too pious.

  Jones mopped his brow. “But you surely enjoy the fruits of your labour. The cold mutton we had for our picnic was most delicious.”

  George puffed out his chest. Anne put out a restraining hand and Lizzie bit her lip.

  “We’ll go up to the house,” Anne said. “Edmund and Eliza will come of course and George.”

  “Do you need me?” George asked and gave the reverend a stern look.

  “Of course we do,” his wife replied. “And you, Samuel. You may as well listen in too. If you are to ask for Sarah’s hand you will know all that a wedding entails.”

  “We might as well all go,” George said and raised his eyes to the heavens.

  “Goodness, no,” Anne said. “There’ll be enough of us around our table as it is. The rest of you stay here and enjoy this rare afternoon off.” She thrust her arm through George’s and almost dragged him up the slope behind the reverend.

  Isaac threw a rock across the creek.

  “First to hit the large gum,” he said. “Jacob, Thomas? Who’s up for it? Winner has the other two chop wood for a week.”

  “Is that your way of making Thomas stay?” Jacob grinned and gave Thomas a gentle shove.

  Lizzie could only see the back of her brother’s head. He nodded at Thomas, who glanced at her.

  “Come on, Zac,” Jacob said.
“I’ll take you on. I’d be more than happy to not chop wood for a week.”

  “We’ll see,” Isaac replied.

  “Thomas has other things to do.”

  Once more Jacob nodded his head at Thomas.

  Lizzie frowned. What was he up to?

  “Would you care to take a walk, Lizzie?” Thomas stood up and brushed off his clothes. “All that food has made me sleepy.”

  “I’d love to,” she said, forgetting all about her brother. “The reverend will have them bailed up for hours at the house.”

  Thomas offered his hand and helped her to her feet. “It was good to have him here.”

  They set off along the creek enjoying the shade thrown by the large gums. Lizzie chatted about Edmund and Eliza’s upcoming wedding. After a while she realised Thomas had said little more than two words.

  “You’re very quiet, Thomas.” They had rounded a bend and were out of sight of her brothers. Lizzie boldly thrust her arm through his. “Penny for them.”

  “I’ve nothing to say.” He patted her arm and left his hand resting there. “I’d much rather listen to you.”

  “Oh, Thomas. You are a funny fellow. I’d love to hear more about the country you and Jacob saw on your travels. You’ve been back for weeks now and we haven’t seen you until today. Jacob has talked of nothing else but I’d like to hear your views. Is the land as good as Jacob says? Do you really think the government will allow people to –”

  He stopped, forcing her to do the same. She looked up. The longing in his deep brown eyes made her draw in a breath. He leaned closer. She yearned for the feel of his lips on hers.

  “Lizzie.” The huskiness in his voice made her knees go weak.

  “Yes, Thomas,” she whispered.

  His head bent closer. She took in the soft lines around his eyes, the brown of his weathered skin, the pink of his lips. He clasped her other hand in his.

  “I … I …”

  “Yes.”

  “I love you, Lizzie Smith. I know I haven’t got much to offer but –”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s a lot to ask. Penakie doesn’t have the comforts you have here and it’s quite a distance from your home. I don’t know if George …”

  Lizzie squeezed his hand.

  He took a deep breath. “If your father gave his permission, and if you felt so inclined, I wondered if you … well, if you …”

  “Oh Lord, Thomas what are you trying to say?”

  “Would you do me the honour of becoming my wife?”

  “Yes.”

  His eyes widened. “You mean –”

  “Yes.”

  He stared at her with such a perplexed look Lizzie couldn’t help the giggle that escaped her lips. “For a man of few words, Thomas Baker, you took the long way round to ask.”

  He gripped both her hands tightly. “You’ve made me the happiest man alive. I wasn’t sure you’d say yes.”

  “Oh, Thomas. I’ve loved you since nearly the first time we met.” She studied him closely. “Did Jacob put you up to this?”

  “I’ve wanted to tell you how I feel for a long time.” Thomas smiled. “Let’s say Jacob encouraged me not to delay any longer.”

  He glanced around then drew her back with him against the trunk of a tree. His gaze swept over her. She shivered in delight as he wrapped his arms around her and bent his lips to hers. His kiss was soft at first then more urgent. She melted against him then suddenly he stopped. He put his hands on her shoulders and gently moved her back.

  “I must ask you father’s permission,” he said and spun on his heel and strode away.

  Lizzie put her fingers to her lips and closed her eyes. She could feel her heart thudding in her chest. She knew in that instant she was the happiest woman alive. When she opened her eyes Thomas was disappearing around the bend.

  “Thomas,” she called.

  He stopped and turned back.

  “Please wait for me, dearest.”

  In a few strides he was back beside her. He studied her with his deep brown eyes. “Dearest,” he said. “I like the sound of that.”

  She smiled up at him and was rewarded with another kiss. Then he took her hand and they walked back together.

  Thirty-four

  “Three cheers for Lizzie and Thomas.”

  Voices chorused around them. Thomas felt he would burst with pride as Lizzie slipped her hand into his and squeezed it tight.

  “Lucky Edmund and Eliza had booked the priest.” Jacob slapped Thomas on the back. “Who knows how many more years it could have been before you married my sister?”

  “Jacob, don’t tease,” Lizzie warned but the smile didn’t leave her face.

  “He wouldn’t have asked you if it wasn’t for me,” Jacob said. “Or at least not till you were old and grey.” He clasped his sister by the shoulders and kissed her cheeks.

  Thomas smiled. Every one of the Smiths had been happy to welcome him into their family but Edmund.

  Thomas moved closer to Lizzie so their arms were touching. She was as happy as he was, even if they did have to share their wedding day with standoffish Edmund and his sour-faced Eliza. More people joined the line to wish them well and finally it was Isaac’s turn.

  “I have to say you clean up all right,” he said as he shook Thomas’s hand. “No doubt about Lizzie’s ability with a needle.”

  Thomas glanced down at the loose white shirt that Lizzie had made for him. It felt so much nicer against his skin than the coarse brown fabric his few shirts were made of. He’d never worn anything like it in his life.

  Isaac kissed his sister’s cheek and moved on to Edmund and Eliza. For the first time, Thomas stood alone with his new wife.

  “It was a very thoughtful gift,” he said.

  “You were already the most handsome man here.” Lizzie beamed up at him. “But that white fabric against your sun-browned skin and dark hair.’ She brushed the back of her hand across his cheek. “You take my breath away.”

  Thomas gazed into her eyes then lowered his lips to hers. He kissed her once and then again. Her lips melted against his. She was so sweet and soft. His arms drew her in close and his heart thumped in his chest at the feel of her body against his. He was surely the luckiest man alive.

  Jacob and Isaac whistled and everyone turned to look at them. Thomas dropped his arms and stepped away from Lizzie. She brushed the folds of her dress and he straightened the neck of his shirt. They stood in silence a moment. The rest of the group went back to their conversations. Voices and laugher floated around them. Thomas had never felt so awkward, except the time when Lizzie lanced his boil. His cheeks warmed at the thought.

  “Do you like the –?”

  “The decorations are –”

  They both spoke at once and Lizzie giggled.

  “The decorations are very clever,” Thomas said. “You’ve done a fine job.”

  “Mother did most of it. She has an eye for embellishing.”

  They looked around the Smiths’ shearing shed, which had been turned in to a makeshift church. Branches of blue bush covered the rafters and stems laden with little ball-like yellow flowers stood in buckets around the shed. Eliza’s family had lived in New South Wales before moving to South Australia and Eliza’s equally sour mother had mentioned several times how the yellow wattle, as she said it was named, was much prettier in the eastern parts of Australia. This primitive variety, as she called it, looking down her nose, was far too strong of scent and made her eyes water.

  Thomas cared little about that: the golden flowers would remind him of this special day for the rest of his life. They were in sharp contrast to the beautiful blue of Lizzie’s dress, which in its turn highlighted the cornflower colour of her eyes. He prayed they would always be this happy.

  “Time to serve the food,” Mrs Smith called.

  “Come on, Thomas,” Lizzie said.

  He groaned. His stomach was still in knots from the nervous tension of the wedding vows but he allowed her t
o drag him towards a splendid feast laid out on a table covered in a crisp white cloth. It was only mid-morning but the spring days were already proving warm and so it had been decided to have the ceremony first thing followed by an early lunch.

  Just as when they gathered for the cut out after each year’s shearing, the double wedding was a chance for fellowship and celebration. The neighbours came and all the women had been cooking for days. The table was laden with food. Cold sliced mutton, sheep’s-brain pie, and potted meats sat beside potato and pumpkin pies, turnip mash, beetroot slices and melon pickle. One of Lizzie’s famous wild peach pies was dwarfed by a two-tiered fruitcake. Eliza’s mother had made it and brought it with her, and Mrs Smith had decorated it with the pale yellow flowers from another native bush.

  Thomas reached for a plate just as Edmund did. His new brother-in-law’s dark eyes glared back at him. Thomas held his look but let go the plate. He and Edmund had managed to avoid each other over the years except on family occasions like this. Thomas was happy to concede to the eldest son and keep out of his way this time. He didn’t want anything to spoil the day but he worried the time would come when he and Edmund would lock horns again over something. When that time came, Thomas would no longer be prepared to retreat.

  John Gibson had of course brought his harmonica and as soon as the food had been eaten the dancing began. Thomas swept Lizzie around the wooden floor, relishing the chance to hold her in his arms again. Edmund did the same with Eliza, although at arm’s length and in a much more stilted fashion, and then everyone else joined in. Wick danced with another neighbour’s daughter and Thomas was pleased to see the serious young man enjoying himself.

  Before long they were all stopping for cups of water or sweet cordial. The older men were patting at their foreheads and necks with handkerchiefs, and the ladies used theirs to fan themselves. Thomas noticed Duffy had his flask as usual and Jacob and Isaac were taking swigs from it. Everyone was red faced from the dancing, regardless of what they were drinking.