by Bonnie Leon
Since Henry’s trial, John had given his cousin little thought. Now he wondered how severe his cousin’s misery was. At Newcastle Prison it must certainly be profound.
Across the river, John spotted a disheveled-looking man he’d never seen before. The moment the stranger realized he’d been seen, he scampered deeper into the bushes and disappeared. Why in the world would he do that? There’s no need to hide. John stopped and watched for the fellow. He never reemerged, and John finally went on his way. Most likely an escaped prisoner.Hope he doesn’t cause trouble. John decided that on his way back through town he’d report the man.
He approached a trail that led to the property. Murphy Connor was already there. He sat on an embankment and his horse grazed beside him. When he saw John, he wiped sweat from his forehead, set his hat in place, and stood.
“Good mornin’ to ye,” the middle-aged man said. “It’s a hot one, eh?”
“Indeed.” John dismounted and shook Mr. Connor’s hand. He scanned the acreage.
“Fine piece of property,” Connor said. “Even if it is a bit small.”
“Thank you for taking time to meet me.”
“When I heard it was one of the government properties, I thought of ye. It would give ye and the wife a first-rate start. My land borders this piece and I figured ye for a good neighbor.” He smiled.
“Thank you.” John could feel excitement build inside. “It’s fine land, indeed.”
Connor gazed over the landscape. “Property runs down t’ the river on one side, and there’s a pond, and a stream runs through it. Course when things dry up, there’ll not be much water.”
He nodded at the Parramatta River. “If it was me, I’d build me a house down there. Having water close to your place will make yer wife happy.” He pushed a wad of tobacco deep into his cheek. “The Parramatta will see ye never go without water for the house and garden.”
“Ye plan on raising cattle?”
“No. Thought I’d try my hand at sheep.”
Connor glanced at the sun. “Ye sure, lad? Cattle’s a lot easier. Not as much of a market for sheep.”
“Not yet, but there will be.” John smiled. “You just wait and see.” He nudged his hat back off his forehead. “I’d like to have a look ’round. I heard there’s a large piece bordering this one.” “There is, indeed.” Connor grinned. “That was me thought too. Figured one day ye might be able to buy it.”
“You know the property well?”
“That I do. I’d be happy t’ ride ’bout the place with ye.” He
climbed onto his horse and settled in the saddle. “The ground and grass is the best ye’ll find for grazing.”
The two men looked at the small portion of land available through the government and then explored the larger property. John’s enthusiasm grew. The land was mostly made up of broad grasslands, golden and heated beneath the summer sun. Trees dotted the sprawling landscape, and John figured there’d be plenty enough for building a house and barn. This was it. This would be his and Hannah’s home.
John rode into the yard, excited to tell Hannah what he’d discovered. When he didn’t see her right off, he dismounted and led the horse into the barn, relieved it of the saddle, and then tied him outside his stall. After a quick brushing and a handful of grain, he led the horse into his stall. Anxious to get to the house and talk with Hannah, he grabbed an armful of hay and dropped it into the crib.
The gelding pushed his nose into his feed and snatched up a mouthful. John gave him a final pat and headed for the cottage. Stepping inside, he was hit by stifling heat. Hannah knelt beside the hearth, using a large wooden spoon to stir a pot of stew. Damp hair plastered itself to her moist face. She smiled, replaced the lid, and moved the pot back over the fire. “You’re home just in time.” Moving to John, she stood on tiptoe and planted a kiss on his cheek. “You look hot.”
“I am. And it’s stifling in here. Wouldn’t it have been wiser to build a fire outdoors?”
A wounded expression touched Hannah’s eyes. Immediately John wished he could take back the words.
“I’m not good at outdoor cooking.”
“It’s fine, luv, really. The stew smells good and I’m starved.” He studied her, wearing a half smile. “Would you mind if we ate on the front steps?”
Hannah grinned. “That’s a fine idea. Perhaps there’ll be a breeze.” Using the back of her hand, she wiped a strand of hair off her face. “I’ll spoon us each a bowl. Then we’ll sit and talk.” She moved to the cupboard and took down two wooden bowls. “I daresay, I’ve been watching for you for more than an hour. I can scarcely wait to hear about the property.”
John removed his hat and hung it on a wooden peg near the door. “And I want to tell you about it.” He moved to the porch, dipped water out of a wooden cask and drank a ladle-ful, refilled it, and drank it down as well, and then sat on the top step.
Hannah emerged with the bowls of stew, and after handing him one, she sat beside him. Closing her eyes, she blew out a breath. “This is better. Cooler.” She glanced about. “But a bit embarrassing. Everyone will know how foolish I’ve been, building a fire on such a hot day.”
“They don’t care a whit about where you cook.” John leaned close and kissed her temple.
“I’ve never cooked well outdoors. I’m quite clumsy at it. In London it was rarely too hot to use the hearth. Perhaps Lydia will help me . . . again.” She took a bite of stew. “I suppose I could have made cold meat sandwiches.”
“Hannah. Stop. This is fine. I love your stew. And the fire will die down.”
“It’ll take hours.”
John took a bite and chewed. “Delicious. Much better than a sandwich.”
Hannah set her spoon in her bowl and focused on John. “All right. Tell me all about it.”
“Tell you about what?” John teased.
“The land.”
He smiled. “It’s exactly what we’ve been hoping for. It’s ours if we want it.”
Hannah’s eyes widened. “Just like that?”
“We’ll have to file, but Murphy Connor was sure no one else had put in for it yet.” He smiled broadly. “You’ll love it. It’s grand. Good grazing and plenty of timber for building. And a perfect spot for a house near the river.” John remembered the man he’d seen hiding in the deep grasses on the banks of Parramatta, and the perfect spot seemed less perfect.
“Really? It’s just what we want, then?”
“It is indeed. With irrigation from the river, we can have a garden, and when I’ve got our house built, I’ll see to it that we have a pump in the kitchen.” He sat up straighter and looked out, seeing in his mind what he’d seen that day. “Connor took me to look at the adjoining piece. There’s a hillside that overlooks a great deal of the property—you can see for miles—it’s quite scenic. I thought perhaps we could picnic there.”
“I can’t wait to see it. But, John, we don’t know if we’ll ever get the other piece of property.”
“We will. I’m determined to have it.”
Hannah rested a hand on John’s arm. “Then I’m sure it will happen.”
“If Mr. Atherton can spare me, we’ll go tomorrow. Will you be needed in the house?”
“I’m sure everything will be fine without me. Deidre’s quite proficient. I might as well have been gone today.”
“You don’t sound happy about it.”
“Deidre seems to be good at everything.”
“And that’s bad, eh?” John grinned.
“No. Of course not. But . . . well, it feels strange not being needed.”
“I need you.” John pressed a kiss to her temple.
Hannah smiled at him. “I know.”
She returned to her meal. “There’s something not right about Deidre. She’s too eager, too devoted. I don’t trust her.”
“Are you sure you’re not just jealous?”
“Jealous?” Hannah snapped. “Absolutely not.” She shrugged. “All right. Perhaps I am a littl
e. It’s just that everyone seems so taken with her. Even Lydia. Since we married, things have been different between us, and now she seems even more distant.”
“You can’t expect them to be the same. Lydia’s not married and you are. And soon you’ll be moving to your own place. Plus you’re free and she’s not. You can’t forget she’s taken over the housekeeping duties. She has more to do. A lot has changed.”
“I know. I just hoped we could remain good friends. Now with Deidre . . .” Hannah stirred her stew. “It’s not Deidre’s fault. Perhaps you’re being too hard on her.”
Hannah flashed John a look of irritation. “I suppose you’re smitten with her too.”
“I’m smitten only with you.” John leaned close and kissed Hannah on the lips. “Only you.”
Hannah leaned against him and then straightened. “I don’t know how word got out so quickly, but there were a number of men who seemed to have errands of one kind or another that required they speak to the housemaid. And Deidre was clearly pleased by all the attention.” She rubbed her temples. “I know she’s not who she seems to be. I can feel it. I don’t trust her.”
“I’d say it’s time to talk about something else.”
Hannah sighed. “You’re right. My fretting won’t help.” She managed a tight smile. “So, shall we plan to visit our property tomorrow?”
“Absolutely.”
4
With one final swing of the ax, the acacia wood popped and split. John pulled the blade free and then pushed against the smooth bark of the young tree. Stepping back, he watched it fall. He used his shirtsleeve to wipe sweat from his brow and moved to the downed tree and began the job of cutting away branches.
Finally, John hauled the limbless acacia to a pile of other logs. “That ought to do it.” He grabbed a flask hanging from the mule’s harness, unscrewed the top, and took a long drink. After replacing the lid, he draped the flask over the yoke and stroked the animal’s neck. “You ready to get to work?”
Chaining logs together in a bundle, he attached the main line to the harness, and then, giving the mule a friendly pat on the hindquarters, he lifted the reins and stepped around behind the logs. John clicked his tongue and slapped the lines gently, and the animal plodded forward, straining in its yoke. When he reached a partially completed cabin, John pulled back on the reins and the mule stopped.
Using a handkerchief to mop sweat dribbling down the back of his neck, John studied the small cottage that stood fifty yards from the Parramatta River. There was still a lot to be done before it was finished. Only three walls were up. They
were made of small logs standing upright side by side and tied firmly together with twine. There were gaps he’d need to fill, but that would come later.
The more John stared at his work, the more frustration he felt. It was a pathetic dwelling and not remotely fit for someone like Hannah. But it would have to do. He didn’t have enough funds to build a proper house. For now, this would shelter them.
He glanced at a pale blue sky and a blazing sun that baked him and the hard ground. He longed for clouds and a cool rain. His stomach felt hollow, and he wondered if Hannah would arrive soon.
The jangle of harnesses gave him his answer. He turned to see her driving a buggy up the rough path that led to the house from the road. He smiled. How like her to arrive at just the righttime. Although pleased to see her, John worried about her being out on the road alone. It wasn’t safe. Again, he glanced at the cabin and wished she didn’t have to live in such a primitive place.
Smiling, Hannah pulled the buggy to a stop and lifted a basket. “I thought you might be hungry.”
“That I am.” John grasped her hand as she stepped down, dropping a kiss on her cheek. “You know me so well; my stomach’s rumbling.” John fixed her with a stern look. “I don’t want you out and about by yourself. It can be dangerous.”
“I understand, but if we’re to live out here, it’s something we must deal with. I’m not about to allow fear to keep me trapped in my house. We’ll have to trust the Lord for our safety.”
She shaded her eyes and turned to look at the cottage. “You’ve done quite a lot. We’ll be moving in soon, won’t we?” If she felt any disappointment at the dismal construction, she showed no hint.
“Soon. I’m sorry. I know it’s not much. But when it’s finished it’ll serve us well.” Inadequacy grinding at his insides, he added, “You deserve better.”
Hannah grinned. “That I do, but this is just a beginning. It will do nicely for now.” She draped an arm about John’s waist. “Can I look inside?”
“I’ll give you a tour,” he said in a teasing voice.
Hannah grasped John’s hand and the two stepped into the tiny one-room house. A rock hearth took up most of one wall. Hannah moved to the stone fireplace. “You’ve done a grand job. It’s sufficiently wide and quite suitable for cooking.” She planted her hands on her hips. “And when the cold weather comes, it will keep us snug and warm.”
At that moment standing in the midst of the hovel he’d built, John couldn’t recall ever loving Hannah more. He pulled her to him. “Have I told you recently how much I love you?”
“Indeed you have, sir.” Hannah leaned in closer to her husband.
Gazing into her dark eyes, John admitted, “It’s going to be dreadful. While the heat lasts, it’ll be stifling hot in here and the flies will be appalling. And when the rain comes, we’ll be living in a sea of mud.”
“It won’t be dreadful at all.” She gazed about the tiny house. “The heat can’t be worse than where we are, and we can put shutters on the window to keep out the flies.” She leaned against him. “I heard there’s to be less rain than usual this year. That will help with the mud.” Her expression turned serious. “No matter the difficulties, I will be content. This is our home on our own land. Ours.” She draped her arms about John’s neck.
“Not so long ago a life of servitude and chains was all we had before us. This place—you—it’s all a miracle.”
John felt renewed anticipation. “It is indeed. And I will build a proper home, but I can’t do it straightaway. There’s too much that must be done first.”
“We’ll manage.” Hannah gave him a squeeze and then stepped outside to the buggy. “Shall we eat?” She took the basket from the seat. “I brought cheese and bread, apples, and custard.”
“Mmm. Sounds perfect.”
“I brought something to sit on. It’s on the seat.” Hannah walked toward the river.
John retrieved the quilt, but before following Hannah he also grabbed his musket, which rested against the cabin.
Hannah stopped beneath a gum tree. She turned to John and looked at the gun. “Will we need that?”
“Just in case.” John rested it against the tree. He swept away twigs and gum nuts that had fallen from the branches and then unfolded the blanket and spread it out on the ground.
Hannah sat and arranged her skirts so they wouldn’t crumple and then opened the basket. “We are isolated here. I must admit to still feeling a bit unsettled at the thought of being so alone. I feel it especially when I travel the empty road between here and the Athertons’. Lydia made me bring a pistol. But it would do me little good. I have no notion of how to use it.”
“I doubt there’s much for you to worry about. There’s been no trouble in recent days. And I daresay, we’re safer here than we were on the streets of London.”
“You’re right on that count.” Hannah looked up the empty road.
John grasped her hand. “Try not to worry.”
“I’m fine. Really.” She opened the basket and took out sliced bread and cheese and a flask of water. Placing the cheese between two pieces of bread, she handed the plain sandwich to
John. “This is quite a pleasant spot. I love the tangy scent of eucalyptus.” She breathed deeply. “And the river here is nice, it’s a bit more lively. After we move in we can picnic often.” She gazed out on the quiet river. “Look there.” She
pointed at a large white bird standing among the rushes along the bank. It had sticklike legs and a long narrow beak it dipped beneath the surface of the water to probe for food.
“It would seem he’s hungry too.” John bit into his sandwich.
The bird moved slowly along the river’s edge. Without warning, it spread its wings and launched itself into the air. With its legs trailing behind, the bird flew slowly and gracefully and then disappeared beyond the trees.
“I never tire of watching the birds and animals,” Hannah said. “They’re interesting and beautiful. I look forward to the day when I can sit on my veranda and simply gaze at the wildlife and the incredible landscape.”
John leaned back on one arm. “And on a hot day we can cool ourselves in the river.”
“I don’t know how to swim.”
“It’s not difficult. I’ll teach you. And our children.” John studied a quiet pool in the shallows and imagined the good days ahead.
“Of course,” Hannah said, her voice stiff.
John looked at her. “Are you afraid, luv?”
“Of what? Swimming?” She chuckled. “No. I’ve just never learned. In London the Thames wasn’t far from where I lived, but it was too ghastly a place to swim. And it would have been indecent of me anyway.”
“Not here. We’ve our privacy.” John closed his eyes for a moment, remembering. “I recall there being some grand places for swimming outside the city.”
“Mum and I rarely ventured out of town.” Hannah took a bite of her cheese. “Do you think we can move into the house soon? Lydia has taken on the position as housekeeper, and she’s quite competent. Mrs. Atherton has no need for me.” She looked at the tiny cottage. “If we lived here, we’d have more time together. And I could lend a hand.”
“I’ve the floor and roof left to do yet. And we can’t move in until there’s a door.”
Hannah broke off a piece of bread and put it in her mouth. “Perhaps if we lived here, we could finish more quickly because I could help. I don’t need a door.” She glanced at the sky. “And I doubt we’ll have any rain soon.”