Outback Station

by Aaron Fletcher

  Picking up the pannikins beside the blanket, he drank then handed the other one to Catherine. After drinking most of the wine, she dipped a finger in the last drops and put the pannikin aside. She touched her finger to one nipple and then to the other nipple. "Here is more wine for you, Jonathan," she whispered, pulling his hand to her body. "Now make me burn and then make it go away."

  Fondling her, he buried his lips in the silky, resilent warmth of her thrusting breasts. Moments later, their rekindled desire made them impatient in their search for each other. Joining in an echo of their deep, ardent kisses, they met in a quickening ascent to rapture. Then, their passion exhausted once again, they held each other in blissful contentment.

  During late afternoon, they dressed, and Jonathan helped Catherine pin up her hair, savoring the feel and scent of her glossy tresses. Dusk was falling when they reached Parramatta, and he stopped to light the headlamps on the buggy. Then they held each other and kissed as the buggy moved down the road to Sydney.

  At her door, Jonathan kissed Catherine once more and left, thinking about the length of time he needed to remain in Sydney for the wedding. An obvious solution had occurred to him, but it involved his shirking another responsibility. After pondering it at length, he finally decided that he had no alternative and that his parents would understand.

  When he went to church with the Hammonds the next day, the service was especially meaningful to him, because the setting was similar to the one where he and Catherine would exchange vows. After lunch, he went to the inn where the stockmen and jackaroos were staying, intending to provide himself with the time he needed to stay in Sydney for the wedding.

  In the small, cluttered room that he shared with Corley, Ruel sat on his cot and listened in growing dissatisfaction. Then he shook his head when Jonathan finished. "We can all wait, Mr. Jonathan," he suggested. "Three weeks shouldn't make that much difference."

  "Yes, it will," Jonathan replied. "The saddles and such could wait, but not those rams. It'll be March by the time you get there, and that's none too soon for the breeding season. But two stockmen and four jackaroos can see to a dozen rams and the other things."

  "If the day ever came when I couldn't see to them by myself," Ruel growled angrily, "I'd give my stock whip to a jackaroo. But you're the boss cockie, and your place is with those rams, not loitering about here on some sort of bloody business or other."

  Lying on his cot with his hat over his face, Corley laughed. "That business," he commented, his voice muffled by his hat, "wouldn't have anything to do with Catherine Baxter, would it?"

  "Yes, it does," Jonathan acknowledged. "I'm getting married."

  Tossing his hat off his face, Corley sat up with a wide grin. Ruel gazed at Jonathan in surprise, then laughed heartily. "Well, I certainly won't try to stand in the way of that, Mr. Jonathan!" he exclaimed. "What do you need me to take care of besides the rams?"

  Jonathan went over the various items of business with the stockman, and after settling all the details, Jonathan went to the livery stable and rented a buggy. Then he drove to the Hammond home and prepared for the dinner that evening.

  At dusk, he took the buggy to pick up Catherine at her home. During the drive to Sydenham Academy, she told him that her mother was very pleased about their engagement and had accepted that she was going to the outback. That evening, Auberta intended to tell her husband about it, expecting him to share her attitude. Jonathan and Catherine then agreed to say nothing about their engagement until after he talked to her father.

  At the school, Dierdre was waiting in the gate office, wearing a pretty gown and watching the street for the buggy. Having glimpsed each other in the town at various times, Catherine and Dierdre exchanged greetings warmly and chatted amiably during the drive to the Hammonds. At the house, Jonathan followed them inside to a cheerful round of greetings. His cousin, Melissa, was there with her husband, Stephen Gilbert, a portly, bearded merchant. His other married cousin, Amanda, had declined the invitation, remaining at home with her sick child.

  Dinner was a festive, lighthearted occasion, the food enjoyable and the conversation lively. Jonathan glowed with pride at the impression that Catherine made on everyone as the center of attention at the table. With a measure of sedate reserve in her smile and laughter, the enchantingly beautiful woman was charming, gracious, and quick-witted.

  After the meal, everyone went into the parlor. The conversation continued smoothly for a time, then it took a controversial turn, when Leona mentioned Morton's absence to her mother. A matronly, attractive woman, Martha Hammond shrugged archly. ''Morton is fully aware that he is welcome in this house at any time . . . alone."

  "Are you referring to Clara Tavish, Auntie?" Dierdre piped up. "If you met her, I'm sure you'd like her, because she's quite pleasant."

  A thunderstruck silence fell, with only Catherine in the dark on the subject. The others exchanged embarrassed glances and gazed at Dierdre in astonishment and dismay. A bright flush of anger spread across Martha's face, contrasting with her white hair. "Dierdre," she said in a choked voice, "kindly tell me how you know that woman's name."

  Nonchalant about the furor she had created, Dierdre plucked at the sleeves of her gown. "A school friend explained the situation to me, Auntie, and pointed out Mistress Tavish in the public gardens one day. Then I approached her and we had an entertaining chat. The fact is, she's a good woman, a widow who is providing for her children as best she can."

  "She might try honest work," Stephen Gilbert muttered in disapproval.

  Having comprehended the subject under discussion, Catherine turned to him, her green eyes sparkling. "Spoken like a man," she said acidly. "A woman who has devoted herself to slaving for a man and children is skilled only as a char. She might be able to earn pence at best, but the bare necessities cost shillings."

  "That's quite true," Melissa chimed in at her husband, her sisters emphatically agreeing. "Save your righteousness for church, Stephen."

  As Stephen quieted under the women's glares, Martha lifted her hand for silence. "The issue," she announced firmly, "is what Dierdre did. My dear, I cannot but deplore it. Your school is supposed to prevent such things, and I intend to ask the headmistress why you were at liberty in the public gardens."

  "She will tell you I was there for a botany class, Auntie," Dierdre replied blandly. "When I talked with Mistress Tavish, I had finished my observation notes on the plants I had been assigned, and the class was waiting for the instructor to finish her after-lunch nap under a tree."

  Discomforted by the prompt explanation, as well as by the stir of amusement it created, Martha tried another approach. "Well, you didn't tell her your name, did you? That would have been disgraceful."

  "And embarrassing for both of us," Dierdre added. "No indeed, Auntie. She asked, so I told her I was Lady Dierdre Augusta Juliana Hanover, the posthumous daughter of the Duke of York, the second son of King George III. I explained that my claim to the throne had been overruled in favor of my cousin, Queen Victoria, because my age would have required a regency. However, my cause was still being championed by a faction led by Lord Castlereigh, and I had been sent abroad because Prince Albert had been loath to become consort to a monarchy that might be challenged."

  When she finished, the quiet was shattered by an explosion of hilarity. As he laughed heartily, Jonathan reflected that it had been characteristic of his sister. Able to mimic any accent and having unshakable aplomb, she could be very convincing. Laughing in spite of herself, Martha shook her head. "My dear, that was outrageous!" she exclaimed.

  Dierdre smiled, shrugging. "If one must lie, one may as well make it as interesting and entertaining as possible, Auntie."

  Catherine leaned over and kissed the girl. "You're a delight," she said, laughing. "Did the woman believe you?"

  "Yes, she did," Dierdre replied gleefully. "And it did no harm when my school friend heard our conversation and addressed me by title."

  Laughter erupted again and ende
d the pleasant evening on a cheerful note. The guests thanked their hosts in a flurry of finding coats and hats. After the farewell of hugs and kisses had been exchanged, Jonathan took Catherine and Dierdre out to the buggy and helped them in.

  He left his sister at the school, then drove back through town to Catherine's home and tethered the horse at the gate. Her mother met them at the door with a candlestick, smiling at them warmly, and led them through the dark, quiet house to the kitchen. A bottle and cups had been placed ready beside the lamp on the table where Hiram sat.

  The other children were in bed so he spoke quietly as he greeted Jonathan and told him to have a seat at the table. "Well, I understand that you want to take our daughter with you when you leave, Jonathan."

  "That's right, Mr. Baxter. I can well appreciate how you feel, but we love each other and we want to make our lives together."

  "Then you have our blessing. But if you were any other man, I'd do all I could to keep her from being taken so far away. You're a fine man, Jonathan, and she's as fortunate as you are."

  Jonathan thanked him for the compliment, noticing that Mrs. Baxter's silent approval was even greater praise. Sitting at the table and holding one of Catherine's hands between hers, Auberta glowed with joy over her daughter's forthcoming marriage. Hiram poured wine into the cups, then passed them around for a toast to the engagement.

  After the toast and a few minutes of conversation about wedding plans, Jonathan left with Catherine. At the gate, she moved against him restlessly as they kissed. Taking his arms from around her, she lifted his hands and placed them on her breasts. "I'm aching here for you, Jonathan," she whispered against his lips. "Make it go away."

  With her moist, warm lips against his, he caressed her breasts gently and then more firmly as she murmured impatiently and nipped at his mouth. Then she sighed heavily, taking his hands away from her breasts. "Now I'm burning, Jonathan. When can we return to our place beside the river?"

  "When will you resign from the school?"

  "On Monday, tomorrow."

  "Then we'll go to the river on Tuesday."

  She kissed him with torrid intensity, pressing herself against him in a silent promise, then turned and went in the house. As he stepped to the buggy, he seethed with desire, but he knew that the hours would pass and Tuesday would eventually arrive. And he also knew that the future held a lifetime of both passion and the quieter depths of love for them.

  On an early autumn day in March, Alexandra Kerrick sat at her desk in the family parlor and looked through Adolarious Bodenham's sketches. Studying one, she felt a flush rising to her face, as she always did when looking at it. In one respect, it was simply a figure study executed with consummate skill and the subtle, ineffable sensibility that imbued all the sketches with life, elevating craft to art which reached out and touched the viewer.

  In another way, it gave insight into the hidden side of the seemingly mild, ascetic Adolarious's character, revealing why he had fathered so many children. The sketch, a scene of an Aborigine woman bathing, was voluptuously erotic, with delicate shading drawing the eye to the breasts, body hair, and liquid sheen of water on the thighs. The position of the hands had no particular significance, but like all of the sketches, it had purpose and meaning. The woman was washing her genitals after lovemaking, possibly having just been impregnated with one of Adolarious's numerous children.

  At a quiet cough behind her, Alexandra covered the sketch with another as she turned to look at Emma in the doorway. "There are riders on the track, with a wagon and sheep, mo'm," she said.

  Having expected Jonathan and the other men to return at any time, Alexandra smiled happily as she left the desk and hurried out of the room. She crossed the entry and went out the front door to the steps, her smile fading as she looked at the riders with the sheep and wagon. At any distance, she could see that neither of them was her son.

  As the possibility of accidents and other calamities ran through her mind, a gnawing anxiety tugged at her. One of the men rode ahead at a fast canter, leaving the other man, the wagon, and the jackaroos with the rams behind. He disappeared into a dip in the track, then when he came into view again, she recognized the stocky form of Ruel Blake.

  He rode up the hill, then up the tree-lined avenue to the house. Reining at the steps, he lifted his hat as he dismounted. "G'day, Mistress Kerrick. Mr. Jonathan stayed in Sydney to get wedded, and he'll be along directly. I expect he's less than a month behind us."

  With an effort of will, Alexandra controlled her feelings as her general worry gave way to an instant of protective panic. Her son married to a woman she knew nothing about! She nodded in greeting. "Welcome home, Ruel. So Jonathan is married now, is he? Who is the young lady?"

  "I don't know anything about her, mo'm," the man replied, untying oilskin packages from behind his saddle. "There's a letter from Mr. Jonathan about it in the mail here. This big package is your drawing thing from the printer in Sydney. All of your newspapers and books are in the wagon. I'll send them up as soon as it gets here."

  Suppressing her demanding impulse to rip the mail open and read the letter from Jonathan, Alexandra tucked the packages under her arm. "Very well, Ruel. How are the rams?"

  "They could use some feeding up, of course, but otherwise they're in fine shape. Not a sore hoof among them."

  "That's good to hear. The flock in Witita Paddock has been the longest without an infusion of pure Merino, so have Corley and a jackaroo drive the rams down there. Take the new iron to the smithy and have some jackaroos help out there, because several horses are waiting to be shod. Mr. Kerrick and the head stockman are both out in the paddocks, and Kunmanara is building a new cattle pen. See if he needs any help with it."

  Ruel touched his hat and mounted his horse, riding away.

  Alexandra took the packages into the family parlor and sat down at her desk, hastily unwrapping the mail. Picking out the letter from Jonathan from among the others, she unfolded it and scanned it rapidly. More of a note than a letter, it contained only a few facts about his bride.

  They were very favorable, however, and Alexandra's fears faded as she reminded herself that her son was a levelheaded man. A schoolteacher would be an intelligent woman, she reflected, with a world view that reached beyond babies and cooking. It also required a level of education that was extraordinary for an artisan's daughter, indicating that her parents had made sacrifices to give her every advantage in life. As to whether she would be happy in the outback, only time would tell.

  The family name, Baxter, seemed remotely familiar to Alexandra, stirring the faintest of echoes from some place and time of years ago. Unable to isolate any memory associated with the name, she looked through the rest of the mail. Along with the usual assortment pertaining to the affairs of the station, there were letters from Sir Geoffrey Bodenham in London, Dierdre, and Creighton, but nothing from Morton, as usual.

  As she read the letter from Dierdre, Alexandra smiled, every line reflecting her daughter's charming, energetic personality. She had agonized over sending Dierdre to England for her education, then had settled on Sydenham Academy as both the best choice and a much closer location. Drawing students from all over the world, its atmosphere was uniquely cosmopolitan.

  It also offered an excellent curriculum and an opportunity for Dierdre to make friends who would benefit her throughout life.

  Further on in the letter, Alexandra's smile faded as she read a full account of the relationship between Morton and Clara Tavish. Naively, Dierdre had included information that betrayed a personal knowledge of the woman. That perplexed Alexandra, but the news that Morton had a mistress deeply disturbed her and she hoped that it was only a temporary situation.

  Creighton's letter included bad news about the firm, a familiar theme. In addition, his personal financial affairs had suffered serious reverses which also followed the pattern of the past few years. The letter stated that he knew little about Morton's private ventures, but there was evidence that they
had mushroomed into a substantial fortune.

  Ever since Adolarious had died, Alexandra had exchanged frequent letters with his brother, Sir Geoffrey, an official in the colonial office, and his letter reflected the increasingly personal and friendly tone of their correspondence. There was news about current developments in London and comments about his family. He was delighted over her plans for a book of etchings made from his brother's sketches and asked that he be provided with one hundred copies, whatever the cost, so he could present them to friends as gifts.

  When she unwrapped the etching from the printer in Sydney and compared it with the sketch, she was very pleased. She had dreaded the possibility of sending the sketches to London to have the etchings made, and risk losing the priceless artwork. But the etching was superb, executed with masterly skill and faithfully duplicating the sketch.

  Alexandra went through the mail concerning the station's affairs, then read the note from Jonathan again. After reflection, she was delighted that he had fallen in love and married, wanting him to be happy.

  She also wanted grandchildren around her, and in addition, another generation would be forthcoming to assume the stewardship of Tibooburra Station. She put the note aside, the feeling of distant familiarity with the woman's family name still nagging at the back of her mind.

  That evening, as she lay in bed and her thoughts were becoming murky with approaching sleep, something about the Baxter name emerged from the recesses of her memory. It slipped away again as she awoke, leaving only a vague impression of unpleasantness. Deciding that she was searching for problems, Alexandra firmly dismissed it and went to sleep.

  On the day David returned, the first heavy rain of the season came. He rode up to Alexandra as she walked out of the supply warehouse, having checked the ceiling for leaks. Word of Jonathan's marriage had spread through the paddocks, and he was delighted about it. "From what I heard, Jonathan and his bride should be here shortly," he said happily.