Heart of the Country

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Heart of the Country Page 33

by Tricia Stringer


  Thomas edged along the side of the house, his whip firmly gripped in his hand. He peered around the corner. Fear flooded through him. Lizzie was sprawled on the ground, not moving. Zac stood just beyond her. His back was to Thomas but he held the firearm pointing off to the side. Thomas couldn’t see what he was aiming at but he assumed it was Terrett.

  Lizzie’s head was twisted back towards Thomas. He scanned her again. The bodice of her dress was ripped and there was blood on her cheek, but he saw her eyelids flutter then the small movement of one hand. Thank the Lord she wasn’t dead. Thomas cast another look over his wife then eased his way back around the house to come at Terrett from the other side.

  Zac had the gun but Thomas wasn’t sure of his state of mind. Terrett was goading the younger man, calling him all kinds of names. The noise he was making, he wouldn’t hear Thomas coming. Thomas reached the other side of his house and once more peered around the corner. Terrett was just in front of him and further to the right was Zac, side on.

  “You’d trade your sister for some booze, wouldn’t you, Zaccy boy?” Terrett said.

  Thomas saw the muscles in Zac’s arms stiffen, as did his own.

  Terrett howled in surprise and fell to his knees as the whip wrapped around his body.

  Thomas stepped up in front of him, gripping the handle of the whip as Terrett twisted back and forth. “If you’ve harmed my wife, you mongrel, I’ll horsewhip you from here to Port Augusta.”

  “She’ll be all right.” Zac’s voice was low but edged with steel.

  Thomas flicked a glance at his brother-in-law. He had stepped closer, his finger rested on the firing pin of the weapon he aimed at Terrett’s head. Beyond him Lizzie was struggling to sit up.

  “The same can’t be said for the poor native woman you brutalised, Terrett,” Zac growled. “You’ll die for that and for coming here, wanting to do the same to my sister.”

  Thomas felt a small ripple of relief. It sounded as if Zac had stopped Terrett from harming Lizzie.

  “You haven’t got the guts,” Terrett spat.

  Thomas looked back to Zac. Terrett was wrong. He’d only ever known him as half the man he was capable of being.

  “Don’t do it, Zac,” Thomas said quietly. “We’ll hand him over and let the law deal with him.”

  Zac snorted but he didn’t shift his look from Terrett. “The law doesn’t care about the natives,” he said. “You know that. The only justice she’ll get is whatever I dish out.”

  “You’re not man enough,” Terrett sneered. “If your brother-in-law hadn’t come along, I’d have done you by now and then had your sister.”

  Zac’s finger moved slightly on the firing pin.

  “It takes a bigger man to hold off, Zac.” Thomas spoke again. “I’ll make sure they listen.”

  His brother-in-law kept his steely glare on Terrett then he lowered the firearm a little.

  “I told you you were too weak.” Terrett began to laugh a terrible laugh that was cut short as Thomas’s fist connected with the side of his face. He fell to the ground, where Zac kicked him in the stomach. They stood over him together. His piggy eyes rolled in his head, then shut.

  “Stop.”

  Thomas and Zac both turned at the sound of Lizzie’s voice. She had made it to her feet. Thomas groaned at the sight of her ripped blouse and bloodied cheek. He crossed the space between them and wrapped her in his arms.

  In the brief silence, Joseph’s sleepy cry came from the direction of the house.

  “We’ll let the law deal with Mr Terrett,” Lizzie said.

  Joseph’s wail grew louder. She eased from his embrace and limped inside.

  Thomas watched the door close behind her before he turned back to the vile man spread eagled at his feet. He poked Terrett with his boot. He didn’t move but Thomas could see the rise and fall of his chest.

  Zac broke the silence. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t gone long, but he must have been biding his time, watching the place. He knew you were away and must have seen that Gulda and Daisy are working the east side.”

  “What happened?” Every muscle in Thomas’s body tensed. Anger continued to simmer inside him.

  “I came back from checking the sheep down by the house creek.” Zac paused and gripped the firearm so tightly his knuckles went white. “I was just in time to see him dragging Lizzie around the house.”

  “Dear God.” The thought of Terrett even laying a finger on Lizzie had Thomas’s hands curling into fists again.

  “He didn’t see me.” Zac’s lips turned up. “She bit him and he gave her a backhander just as I got there with the firearm.”

  “He’ll pay for that,” Thomas snarled.

  “A few bruises and scratches. I’ll live.” Lizzie was back with a fresh shirt, the blood gone from the cut on her cheek and a bleary-eyed Joseph in her arms.

  “What about your head? You were knocked out.” Thomas put a finger to the cut on her cheek.

  “I must have hit my head on the wall when he shoved me away. Caught my cheek on a rock. I feel fine, Thomas, really.”

  They stood in a circle, all looking down upon the motionless form of Terrett.

  “What’ll we do with him?” Zac asked.

  “Hello?” a voice called. Thomas’s new shepherd walked around the hut. He stopped, his face full of alarm.

  “You found your way then, Timothy.” Thomas grinned. The tension eased out of him. “This is our new shepherd, Timothy Castles.” Thomas put an arm around Lizzie. “This is my wife, Lizzie, my son, Joseph, and the fellow with the firearm is my brother-in-law, Zac.”

  Timothy looked at each of them then gaped down at Terrett. “And who’s that?” he asked.

  They all stared at Terrett, who was beginning to moan.

  “Our neighbour.”

  “An animal.”

  Lizzie and Thomas both spoke at once.

  “He’s lower than an animal.” Zac growled and pushed Terrett back as he tried to sit himself up.

  “Bring me that rope by the back door, Timothy,” Thomas said.

  They bound Terrett’s feet. Thomas removed the whip and then used the rest of the rope to tie his hands.

  “He can stay out here under the tree for now,” Thomas said once they had the groaning Terrett securely tethered. Thomas rolled his shoulders and looked around. The last of the light was quickly leaving the sky. “I’ll take him in the new cart to the constable in Port Augusta tomorrow.”

  “You’ve just got home.” Lizzie looked at him, her face full of concern.

  “I’ll go,” Zac said.

  “I know you would.” Thomas shook his head. “I’m sorry, Zac, but after your last trip to Port Augusta, the constable won’t take your word very easily.” He turned to his new shepherd. “Timothy, it will have to be you and me. You can ride ahead. I’ll write a letter for you to give the constable. Get him to come and meet me along the way.”

  Timothy beamed. “Sure thing, Mr Baker. A horse will be better than that wooden cart seat. My backside’s still numb.” He paused and looked at Lizzie. “Beg your pardon, Mrs Baker.”

  Lizzie laughed. How Thomas loved that sound and how relieved he was, she appeared unharmed.

  “I think we’ll all need a decent meal tonight,” she said.

  Joseph was happier now, and squirming to get out of her arms. Thomas saw her wince. He took the child from her but before he could speak, she cut him off.

  “I’ll go and prepare the meal while you men show Timothy where he’s to sleep, and get yourselves cleaned up.”

  Thomas watched her walk away. She wasn’t moving at her usual quick pace. Joseph began to wriggle, trying to get to the ground. Thomas let him slide down his body then took him by the hand. Zac took his nephew’s other hand. The little boy swung between them all the way to the original hut, where Zac now slept. The men had added a second room for the new shepherd.

  “It’s nothing fancy, I’m afraid,” Thomas said as the lad stepped inside.

  Timoth
y turned full circle then looked back at Thomas, his mouth open. “But it’s my own room,” he gasped. “I’ve never had a room all to myself before.”

  Thomas laughed at the joy on the lad’s face. “Welcome to Wildu Creek,” he said.

  Fifty-three

  After the meal, Timothy, happy to entertain Joseph, quickly made a friend of him. The little boy eventually fell asleep in his arms.

  “Time for us to turn in,” Zac said. “It was a wonderful meal as usual, Lizzie.”

  “Yes, thank you, Mrs Baker,” Timothy said.

  Thomas took the sleeping child from his arms.

  “I’ll check Terrett is still secure on my way,” Zac said.

  Thomas nodded. He’d already taken some bread and water to the man and checked him then. Terrett had roared abuse for quite a while after that but he’d quietened down again now. Joseph curled into a ball as Thomas tucked him into his cot. He ran a hand over his son’s fair head, the same colour as his mother’s. How different this homecoming might have been, had he taken longer, or had Zac been occupied elsewhere. Thomas pushed the terrible thoughts from his mind.

  “I think you’ve chosen well with your new shepherd,” Lizzie said when he went back to the kitchen. “Timothy’s a bright young man.”

  “Keen to learn.”

  “He reminds me a little of you when we first met.” Lizzie chuckled and collected the plates from the table.

  “Was I that green?”

  “Yes, and look at you now. You have your own run and sheep from here to beyond.”

  “I don’t know, Lizzie. I hope I’m not chasing something that will always be outside our reach.”

  “Why do you say that?” She came and sat beside him again.

  “Our wool cheque was a few bales short.” Since George’s loss to Wiltshire, Lizzie had been dead against borrowing money, and now Thomas had all the more reason not to tell her about his loan.

  “How could that happen?”

  “I don’t know. I want to talk to Zac about it.”

  “You don’t think he –”

  “No.” Thomas had been over and over it in his head and he couldn’t believe Zac had anything to do with it. “He might be able to fill in some gaps between leaving here and unloading at the port, that’s all. Anyway, it means I’ve perhaps spent too much in taking on Timothy and buying the new ram.”

  “Losing a few wool bales won’t be the end of us.”

  “The provisions will have to stretch further.”

  “We never go without, Thomas.”

  “I know, but I wanted to get something for you and Joseph. The last time I bought you a gift it didn’t turn out so well.”

  Lizzie laughed. “Nothing wrong with my straw bonnet.”

  Thomas glanced at the fraying hat on the hook by the door. She had discovered the grubby calico bag he’d brought home on that first trek with the sheep before he’d been able to get rid of it. She’d packed the dress for Annie in a trunk, hoping there’d be another little girl one day and wore the hat often. The ribbon that secured it in place made it the best thing for windy days, she said.

  “I’m happy with my new mulberry tree. I’m going to plant it among the vegetables.”

  Thomas shook his head slowly. “You have to work so hard, Lizzie. I want better for you and for Joseph,” he said.

  “We’ve both got everything we need right here,” she said and leaned close to kiss him.

  Thomas kissed her back, then thought of the lovely things he’d seen at Wiltshire’s house: his mother’s things.

  Terrett began to call out he was cold.

  “Damn Wiltshire for employing such a vile man,” Thomas said and gave the table a thump with his fist. “You know I missed seeing him in Port Augusta, but I went to his house. It’s full of things that belonged to my mother and I’m still no wiser as to how he came to possess them.”

  “You spoke to his wife? Harriet?”

  “Yes. There were several things in her house that were my mother’s, including the heart locket Mrs Wiltshire wore around her neck. It has the letter H etched in it in a filigree pattern. The H was for Hester.”

  “Or for Harriet. I remember her wearing it,” Lizzie said and put her fingers to the locket she still wore around her own neck. “He may have said they were his mother’s to explain the name in the books. Lucky for him his new wife had a name beginning with H.”

  “Damn the man.” Thomas rubbed at the thick stubble on his chin. “First he sells me a stolen horse then he takes my trunk load of family possessions.” He frowned. And now a man he didn’t trust held their note of debt. “I must have been a fool.”

  “Just a bit green.” Lizzie laughed and gave him a gentle poke. “It’s in the past.”

  Terrett bellowed loudly.

  The smile left her face and she shivered.

  Thomas stood up. “I should just leave him, but we’ll get no peace tonight if I do.”

  “I’ll get a blanket.”

  “No. We’ve got little enough for ourselves. I’ll drag the canvas from the wagon over him.”

  When he came back inside, Lizzie was sitting on the edge of the bed. Only a candle lit the room. Her cheek was purple around the cut and wet with tears.

  “Lizzie,” he said. “What is it? Are you sure Terrett didn’t … harm you.”

  She shook her head. “Gave me a fright. Knocked me about a bit. That’s all.”

  He sat beside her and pulled her close. “My dear sweet brave Lizzie. I’d like to kill him myself. Part of me wishes I’d let Zac do it.”

  “Then you’d both be as bad,” Lizzie whispered. “Neither of you are that kind of man.”

  He stroked her hair. Rage simmered within him as it had when he’d found her sprawled on the ground and Terrett baled up by Zac. He’d kept it in check until Terrett had let forth with his goading laugh. Thomas had hit him and had wanted to keep hitting him and he knew Zac had felt the same. Perhaps they were barely better than the man they detested.

  “I’ll be all right,” she said and eased from his arms.

  He watched her pull herself carefully upright. Then she turned her smile on him. “We’d better get to bed. You have another early start in the morning.”

  Thomas unbuttoned his shirt, turning as she shrugged out of her dress. There was a deep bruise on her arm. He went to her and gently removed her shift. She shivered before him. Thomas let out a groan at the sight of several other bruises on her body.

  “That bastard,” he muttered and helped her slide under the covers. He lay beside her and gently held her.

  “I’ll be glad once you’ve taken Mr Terrett away,” Lizzie whispered. “Promise me you’ll take care, Thomas. He is an evil man.”

  Thomas felt her shiver again. Carefully he held her tighter and kissed the top of her head.

  “I will, my darling Lizzie. I will.”

  Fifty-four

  “This is getting worse and worse.” Rix spat a fly from his mouth. “How much further?” he called.

  Septimus drew in a breath, stopped his horse and waited for the wagon to roll to a stop beside him. “We’ve been on Smith’s Ridge country since we came through that last stand of tall gum trees above the creek. You’re nearly home, Mr Rix.”

  “Home.” Rix went to spit again but with Septimus right beside him he thought better of it. “I told you Pavey and me preferred town life to being out here.”

  “Had you minded my business and kept your mouths shut you could still be in Port Augusta, but the constable somehow got wind of our last cargo.”

  Rix flung a look at Pavey, who was on another horse droving the sheep Septimus had purchased.

  “You’ll be out of sight up here,” Septimus said. “We’ll all have to keep our noses clean for a while.”

  He was still angry over the constable’s discovery of the extra exports in the last two ships to dock at the port. Rix had become too brash and Pavey too slack. Septimus had lost a lot of money in the confiscation of those goods b
ut he couldn’t step up and claim them. They hadn’t been his in the first place and the owners might recognise them. No, it was best they let their port dealings go for a while until things cooled down.

  Fortunately for him, his new inn had done well in its first few months of trading, despite the dry winter, and he still had Smith’s Ridge and the potential it offered. Terrett had done a good job of managing the place but the fool had mistreated a native. Septimus thought of the sweet delights offered by his own dear Dulcie. There was no need for violence. The pompous Baker had trussed Terrett, tied him in a sheep pen and delivered him to the constable.

  “Lucky for you I need a new overseer and with the extra stock I’ve bought, there will be more than enough work for two shepherds. Neales will be glad to see you.”

  The frown was still firmly stuck on Rix’s face. “We’ve no experience with sheep.”

  “I am confident you’ll learn.” Septimus leaned forward in the saddle. “If you want to keep working for me.”

  Rix scowled but didn’t say any more.

  “Onward,” Septimus commanded. “We want to make the homestead before dark.” At least he wouldn’t have to listen to Rix’s complaints for much longer. He rode off to the other side of the mob of sheep. He’d used his inn money to purchase them at a good price from yet another farmer who’d fallen on hard times. Septimus smiled. How often had he made money over the years from someone else’s misfortune or mismanagement? There were many fools to be fleeced in this country. He patted his saddlebag. It contained several notes of debt he held over properties. One in particular was his prize possession.

  The smile left his face a few miles further on when he got down from his horse to check the bodies of two sheep. Flies buzzed all over them and maggots crawled out of their eye sockets. The stench from their swollen bellies was sickening. He moved a few feet away and surveyed the rough country around him. There was not a blade of grass to be seen. There were more carcasses off in the distance. Neales would have some explaining to do.

  The late-afternoon sun pounded down and reflected back at them from the rocky ridge above as they reached the hut.

 

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