by Bonnie Leon
“Good ta meet ya, Reverend.”
Mildred turned to Bradley. “And this is an old friend of Thomas’s, Bradley White, and his wife, Heloise.”
Thomas stepped into the room and joined Mildred, dropping a kiss on his wife’s cheek. “You look pretty in that dress, Callie.”
“Thank ya.” Callie turned back to Bradley. “I’ve seen ya ’round before.”
“Yes. I believe when I was here yesterday, I saw you . . . dusting the office.”
“Roight.” Callie held her body stiffly and stood close to Rebecca.
“She insists on keeping busy,” Mildred said. She turned to Rebecca. “And, Bradley, you’ve met Rebecca.”
“Yes. Delightful to see you again.”
“It’s good to see you.”
“Rebecca, this is Heloise White. Heloise, this is my niece Rebecca Thornton.”
Heloise’s lips tightened, but she didn’t smile as she gave Rebecca a slow nod, as if she were royalty of some kind.
“It’s a pleasure,” Rebecca said, glancing at Callie, whose natural tranquillity was absent.
Rebecca suddenly felt badly as she realized she shouldn’t have persuaded her to join them. And I just promised to be more considerate, she thought.
Bradley turned to Callie. “I’ve heard a lot about you. I’ve read some on Australia, and I figured one day I might like to visit.”
“It’s a grand place.”
Perhaps it won’t be so bad. Bradley’s pleasant enough, Rebecca thought.
Heloise ignored Callie altogether.
“Well then, shall we go in to dinner?” Thomas asked. “Mildred’s been cooking all afternoon. I’m sure we’re in for a rare treat.”
As Heloise was seated, she commented quietly that she’d never shared a meal with a servant. Her husband shushed her, but the words were out, and it was too late to take them back. After that the dining room atmosphere was strained. Between bites Rev. Jones made attempts at small talk. They fell flat. Thomas and Rebecca both made similar tries, but finally the group settled for rigid, polite conversation interspersed by long silent patches.
Joseph was the only relief. In a continuous discourse, he recounted the day’s adventures of sledding and snowman building. More than once he nearly toppled off a pile of books he’d stacked up to boost him high enough at the table.
Once after nearly falling, he proudly stated, “I piled them. Aunt Mildred said I’m big enough.”
“He’s quite precocious, isn’t he?” Heloise said, making his intelligence sound like something naughty.
“I’d say yes. He’s quite exceptional.” Rev. Jones smiled at Joseph and then at Rebecca. He studied Joseph’s precarious seat. “It looks like you’ve done a fine job of stacking.”
“Right,” Joseph said. “I’m good at it.”
The reverend chuckled and took a bite of roast beef.
“We’ve a special chair on order. It should arrive any day,” Mildred explained.
“His stack of books seems to be working out fine.” The reverend took another bite of beef and chewed slowly, savoring the flavor. “Delicious, Mildred. Thomas said you did all the cooking. Did you spend the day in the kitchen?”
“Not the entire day, but yes, I cooked the meal. It’s a hobby, actually.” Mildred beamed.
“I’ll have to send my cook over for the recipe,” the reverend said.
“My Mildred’s a fine cook and insists on preparing meals when we have guests.” Thomas reached across the table and patted her hand.
Still smiling, Mildred said, “Our cook, Agatha, is quite proficient, but I do enjoy being in the kitchen.”
Quiet settled over the table while the guests turned their attention to their food. Rebecca noticed that Callie was being careful to use the proper utensils, and her table manners were impeccable. While serving at the Thornton household, she’d obviously been paying attention to decorum.
The aborigine kept her shoulders up and slightly back and her spine straight. She gripped her knife and fork tightly and hadn’t uttered a word since sitting down.
I should have listened to her, Rebecca thought.
Heloise buttered a roll and set her knife on her plate. She glanced at Callie and then turned her attention to Rebecca. “I must say, I’ve always been a supporter of the abolitionists, but I’ve never actually known a Negro personally, other than as a servant, of course.”
“Callie isn’t a Negro. She’s aborigine. They’re not the same.”
Heloise studied Callie, who kept her eyes down. “Oh yes, of course.”
“Negroes are from Africa,” Thomas explained, his voice touched with irritation. “Aborigines are from a completely different part of the world.”
Callie set her knife and fork down and studied her plate while she chewed. She glanced at Joseph, and when he grinned at her, she smiled.
The reverend asked, “Callie, can you tell us a little about yourself and your life in Australia? I know nothing of aborigine culture.”
Callie looked at the reverend, her black eyes wide. “Not much ta say, sir. I live on Douloo and work for the Thorntons as a housemaid.”
“And she also helps me with the school,” Rebecca said. “She knows how to read and write.”
“Really?” Heloise asked. “I didn’t think Negroes were allowed to read.”
“I’m not a Negro. And I read,” Callie said evenly. “Most blacks don’t know anything ’bout books. It was Rebecca who taught me. I like books roight well.”
Rebecca smiled. “Callie’s a good student. She’s quite intelligent.”
“Is that so?” Heloise took a bite of her roll. “I understand there’s been trouble at your ranch. Is that why you’ve come all this way to Boston?”
The room suddenly felt overly warm, and Rebecca searched for a way to redirect the conversation. She wasn’t prepared to discuss Douloo’s difficulties. She hadn’t even told her aunt the entire story.
The room turned silent. Rebecca cleared her throat. “There’s been a drought. And then we had a fire. It was quite fierce and destroyed almost the entire station. We’re rebuilding now. By the time I return home, everything should be in order.”
“Is that why you’ve come to Boston?” Heloise pressed.
“No. Not really,” Rebecca said. “It had been far too long since I’d seen my aunt. And she hadn’t seen Audry. That’s why we’re here.” She picked up her cup and took a sip of tea.
“Oh?” Heloise lifted a brow. “I thought there was more to it.” She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin.
“No. Not at all,” Rebecca said.
“Oh!” Callie cried. She pushed away from the table.
The Negro housemaid, Corliss, had spilled tea down the front of Callie’s dress.
Callie stood, pulled the soggy, hot gown away from her, and wiped at the spill with her napkin. “Oh, yer dress, mum! It’s ruined!”
“No. It’s fine. It will come clean.” Rebecca glanced at Corliss. She didn’t look the least bit sorry.
Their eyes met, and immediately Corliss said, “So sorry. I’ll get you something to clean that with.”
“No. I’ll clean it meself,” Callie said. She turned to Mildred. “Roight fine meal, mum. Excuse me.” With a quick nod, she hurried out of the room.
Mildred looked at her house servant. “I’ve never known you to be clumsy, Corliss.”
“I’m real sorry, ma’am.”
Mildred stared at Corliss as if unconvinced of her innocence. Finally she said, “Please make sure it’s cleaned up properly. I don’t want stains in the carpet.”
When Corliss left the room, Heloise picked up her tea and sipped coyly, wearing a look that reminded Rebecca of a cat with a mouse trapped beneath its paws. “What a shame. I’d hoped to find out more about Australia.”
Rebecca wanted to give her a verbal thrashing but bit back angry words. Heloise wasn’t worth the energy.
Corliss returned with a washcloth and bucket of water and proceeded to clean u
p the spill. She worked quietly.
“You’d think you and that Australian were friends,” Heloise said, as if accusing Rebecca of wrongdoing.
“She’s our friend,” Joseph said. “Right nice. And brave. She saved me . . . from the fire.”
“How nice.” Heloise folded her napkin and stood. “I have a terrible headache,” she told her husband. “Would you call the carriage around?”
“I was just getting into the spirit of the evening,” Bradley said. “Thought we’d stay a while longer. I’d hoped to talk with Mrs. Thornton about Australia.”
“You may do as you please, but I’m leaving.” Dramatically she rested the back of her hand on her forehead. “I believe I’m ill.”
“Oh dear,” said Mildred. “I hope not.”
Bradley almost smiled. “I’m sorry, dear. I’ll have the driver take you home, but I’ll stay a bit longer.”
Surprise touched Heloise’s face. “Fine.” She turned to Mildred. “Thank you for the meal. However, I must say, it would have been more pleasant if there had been suitable dinner companions.”
Mildred’s eyes turned cool. “I found the company quite suitable. I’m sorry you can’t see that.” She stood. “I’ll see you to the door.”
Heloise glanced at those around the table, nodded stiffly, and then walked out of the room with Mildred and Bradley following.
When Mildred returned, she asked, “Shall we have our dessert in the parlor?”
“The parlor will be just fine,” Thomas said.
“I’ll have Corliss serve in there, then.” Mildred walked toward the kitchen.
The reverend, Bradley, and Rebecca moved to the parlor. Thomas excused himself, explaining he’d left his pipe upstairs.
“I’m sorry about Heloise’s display,” Bradley said. “She’s always been a bit high-strung.”
“You needn’t apologize for her. You’re not responsible.”
“Thank you for that.” He patted his oversized belly. “I think I’ll go in and see if your aunt needs any help with the dessert. It’s one of my favorite parts of a meal.” With that, he headed for the kitchen. Joseph skipped after him.
“I like him,” Rebecca said, sitting in a straight-backed chair opposite Rev. Jones, who had settled on the settee.
“He’s a good man.” Resting an arm over the back of the sofa, he took in a slow breath. “I think I overate. Mildred is too fine a cook.”
“And if you hadn’t eaten well, her feelings would have been hurt.”
The reverend nodded. “I suppose. So I’m excused, then?”
“Absolutely.”
He leaned forward and rested his arms on his thighs. “I don’t mean to pry, Rebecca, but Thomas said there were some difficulties at your home in Queensland. Is there anything I might do to be of help?”
Rebecca had hoped the conversation would take a different tack. “There are some problems, but things will soon be set right.”
“Do you mind if I inquire as to the nature of the trouble?”
“It’s a bit complicated.” Rebecca glanced toward the kitchen and wished Mildred would reappear with dessert. “With the drought and then the fire, we’ve been left in a bit of a financial bind. We’re in a predicament, but my husband is doing all that he can.”
“I see.”
Rebecca clasped her hands and considered how much more to tell the reverend. “I love my husband very much. He’s a fine man. However, he did get involved in a bad business arrangement.”
“Does that have anything to do with why you’re here?”
Rebecca longed to share her hurt with the reverend, but to do so would shame Daniel. He’d not want her to share his failings with a stranger.
“Thank you for being concerned, Reverend, but I’d rather not say more. However, I do ask for your prayers.”
“You certainly have those.”
Daniel swung a rope above his head and whistled at the cattle ambling along in front of him. The dust was thick, and the sun baked the earth and anyone unlucky enough to be out in the open. He’d always taken pleasure in driving a herd south, but this time he felt no satisfaction. Too much depended on his making good money.
The days felt long, and the heated, deserted land only fed his sense of emptiness and drained what little energy he possessed. The beauty of Queensland’s expansive landscape, with its indomitable plants and trees, and the blue, hazy-looking mountains that sprawled along the distant horizon went unseen. He felt and saw only bleakness. The expansive lands no longer fed his soul.
He watched a goanna scuttle across a patch of open ground and disappear into a dry thatch of grass. Still gazing at the place the reptile had disappeared, he heard a screech overhead. Looking up, he spotted a wedge-tailed eagle. The bird soared, its broad wingspan carrying it easily on heated air currents. Daniel watched until the eagle disappeared. When it was gone, the sky seemed empty.
Daniel turned back to the cattle in front of him and resumed his work. His thoughts turned to Robert Marshal. I shouldn’t have made the deal. It was foolhardy. He stared at the back of a heifer plodding along in front of him. I’ve got to make a good deal on this mob. I need your help, Lord. They’re in good shape, but there aren’t enough of them.
His gaze moved to the scene around him. Dust filled the air, blanketing the cattles’ backs. Drovers, looking like apparitions in the swirling brown grime, whistled and called out to the moving, mooing herd.
Daniel’s heart carried him to Rebecca. He missed her and the children. If he could make good money at the sale and pay off Marshal, he’d be able to bring them home.
“They’ll be ’ere soon,” he said aloud, as if speaking the words would make it happen.
Jim loped up to Daniel. “You need any help along here?” He scanned the ridge of an embankment that dropped off toward a river.
“Yeah. We need to move the cattle down to the water.” Daniel lifted his hat, wiped his forehead with his shirtsleeve, and then resettled the hat. “Murderous hot, eh?”
“It’s hot, all right.”
“There’s a good spot about a mile south of ’ere.” Daniel sat up high in his saddle and lifted the lasso above his head, swinging it. “Hep, hep, hep,” he called, following the herd.
Jim rode beside him.
“Tell the drovers to start moving them closer to the riverbank.”
Jim nodded but didn’t ride off.
“You needing company?” Daniel teased.
“Gets lonely working by yourself all day.” Jim grinned.
“That it does. But we’ll have time off soon enough.”
“Heard there’s an outbreak of typhoid down south. Might want to warn the blokes.”
“Right,” Daniel said. “I’ll leave that to you.”
Jim continued to ride alongside Daniel. Solemnly he said, “You don’t seem yourself. Been down in the mouth for weeks now.”
Daniel nodded. “Right. I have been at that.” He couldn’t trust himself to say more. How would it look if he started blathering over his fears about Douloo and his missing Rebecca? He peered at the blue sky, then lowered his gaze to his friend and asked, “What if I lose Douloo?”
Jim didn’t answer right away, then said, “You won’t. I can’t see it happening. You’ll find a way.”
“It’s only a matter of time before those bushrangers find their way back to the station. They’ve shown what they’re willing to do. No telling what we’ll be facing next time.”
“We’ve time. They took the horses as payment. No need to worry. After we sell off this mob, there’ll be plenty of money.”
“The herd’s small. What if we don’t get enough for it?”
“My mother would have said you’re borrowing trouble.”
“That might be.”
“If there’s not enough money to satisfy Marshal, then we’ll stand up to him. There are plenty of blokes who’ll lend a hand.”
Daniel took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Don’t want it to come to that.�
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A gust of wind grabbed at his hat. He captured it and pressed it down more securely.
“Things don’t always turn out the way we want. They are what they are. And then we have to do what’s necessary,” Jim said flatly.
“Know that. Don’t like it though.” Daniel whistled at a balky calf. “It would be easier if Rebecca were ’ere. She makes me stronger.”
Jim leaned on his saddle horn. “Women are that way. Don’t know what I’d do without Cambria.”
“You’re doing without her right now.” Daniel winked.
“Yeah, well, we’ll be home in a couple weeks.”
Daniel nodded. “Rebecca’s only been in Boston a few weeks. It’ll be a long while before she sees home.” The wind sighed and dust swirled.
“She’ll be back before you know it.”
“Yeah,” Daniel said. “I just pray she has a place to come back to.” He looked toward the northwest, and his heart thumped. A dark wall of dust moved toward them!
“We’ve a dust storm! Get the mob down the bank and into the gorge!” Daniel looked out over the herd and yelled at his men, “Dust storm! Move! Into the ravine! Now!”
He knew that if the drovers and cattle didn’t find protection, a lot of the herd and maybe even men’s lives could be lost. He’d seen bad dust storms before where men and animals had suffocated, choking on air thick with dirt.
He whistled and called, “Hep, hep, hep!” while he twirled his lasso, sometimes allowing it to stretch out and trace the hairs along the backs of nervous animals. “Come on, now. Get on down there.” He steered them toward the steep incline. He’d hoped for a safer route, but there wasn’t time. Reluctantly the animals surged over the rim and lunged down the embankment. Most kept their feet under them. A few stumbled and bawled as they tumbled toward the river. Daniel followed, leaning back against his saddle. It was steeper than he’d thought.
One rider went down, his horse tumbling and rolling over the top of him. For a moment all Daniel could see was dust and hooves. Frantic, bawling cattle swelled around the downed horse and rider. The drover stood and amidst the melee managed to grab the hand of another drover, who pulled him up behind him and onto the back of his horse. Daniel turned his attention to the mob in front of him.