Mrs. Ferguson bustled away to prepare tea, leaving her with Blair and Wally.
“I’ll be glad to get out of these.” Blair grimaced at his uniform. Officially, he was to remain in the army until arrangements could be made to have him medically boarded.
“Laurie, after we have our tea, Fergie can show you to your room, unless of course you want to freshen up first?” These last few words were tacked on as an afterthought.
Glancing down at her creased white skirt, hanging like a limp rag, she inwardly wished she could tidy herself up “It’s all right. I’ll have tea first.”
When Angus entered the room after taking the luggage to their rooms, the three men started discussing meat prices and cattle. Wally Morgan, on closer inspection, appeared older than she had first thought, probably in his late forties. He looked so dark-skinned she wondered whether he might be part aboriginal.
“Do you come from Melbourne, Miss?” Angus asked suddenly, as if just remembering her presence.
“No, I’m country born and bred. My father owns the Sandy Ridge general store. Mr. Morgan, do you have many horses?”
He stared at her for a moment, and then a slow grin creaked across his face. “Yes, we do, mainly for stock, though there’s still one good horse left here.”
“Firebrand.” Blair joined the conversation. “How’s he doing?”
“Getting along fine, needs more work, though. I exercise him as much as I can, but being so short handed…” He shrugged. “Won’t ever be as fine as Starlight…” He trailed off, leaving an awkward silence.
“What happened to Starlight?” she asked.
“He’s in Egypt most likely,” Angus put in.
How stupid I am, she suddenly remembered many Light Horsemen had taken their own mounts with them.
“I’m sorry.” She glanced at Blair’s lips, and they had narrowed into a thin, tight line. “I forgot.”
“Don’t worry. I would have left him in good hands over there, I suppose. If only I could bloody well remember.” He thumped the arm of his chair with a clenched fist. “God, I have to remember.”
Mrs. Ferguson saved the situation by coming in with their tea.
“Miss Laurie,” she said, flushed with embarrassment. “Mr. Blair always drinks tea with the men, if they have things to discuss, but now you’re a guest in the house…”
“Don’t worry about me; keep on doing what you did before. Things have changed because of the war. Besides, I always ate my meals in the kitchen at home,” she confessed with a laugh. “We didn’t even have a separate dining room.”
“Well…” Fergie glanced at Blair for confirmation.
“If Laurie doesn’t mind, it would make things easier. Angus and Wally always eat their evening meal with me but, of course, if you…”
“Everything is settled. We’ll have all our meals together,” Laurie interrupted Blair. “I’m not one of those snooty society misses. My father owns a general store in a small country town, and I’m not ashamed to admit it.” She tossed her head. “Milk or sugar, Mr. Morgan?”
“Black, thanks.” He grinned, showing even white teeth.
“Well, you are the one.” Fergie chuckled as she bustled away.
“You could always pick a good filly, boss,” Angus commented with a grin.
From then on, Laurie knew she had been examined and approved. The freshly baked scones tasted light and fluffy, and she ate hungrily. Blair drank his tea with enjoyment, but ate nothing. The pallor had returned to his face. He looked exhausted.
“I hope you men realize the boss is going to have a rest when he finishes here.”
Blair opened his mouth to protest.
“I mean it. I promised the doctor I’d see you rested, and you will. Even if I have to get Fergie to tie you to the bed.”
Blair gave a wry grin, while the men guffawed.
“I can see both these women having the time of their lives, keeping a leg rope on you,” Angus taunted.
“She’s a slight little thing, yet she rules me with an iron fist.”
The men excused themselves and left the room with a nod.
“Would you like me to show you to your room, Miss Laurie?” Fergie waddled in.
“Yes, thank you. Blair has to rest. The doctor said he wasn’t to overdo things.”
“Come along, Mr. Blair. No sulking, either. I put you to bed many times before, so I can do it again, if I have to.”
Laurie laughed. How wonderful watching this big cheerful woman handle him as if he were still a child. Not surprisingly, he obeyed quite meekly, rose from the chair and limped across the room.
He dragged his leg badly now. When he glanced around for his stick, she knew he was in more pain than he would ever admit. She waited until he came up to her before linking arms with him, although her first instinct had been to rush over and help him.
They made their way down a hallway with doors leading off on either side. As soon as Blair was resting she vowed to explore. So far the house was nice, not showy or luxurious like Uncle Richard’s, but everything seemed of refined, understated good taste.
When they came to his bedroom she hesitated, feeling too embarrassed to enter.
As if guessing this, he gave a wry smile. “I can still put myself to bed, you know.” Fergie entered without hesitation.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to be so obvious.” Laurie ran her hand along his arm. “I’m sure you feel I’m being bossy, but you need to rest. If we took a buggy out tomorrow you could show me around.”
He gave her a quick kiss. “You aren’t bossy, just sweet and caring. I can’t wait to show you everything. Explore a little today if you feel like it, but promise me not to wander too far away from the homestead. I don’t want you riding anywhere on your own, understand? I know you come from the country, but things are different here, it’s wilder, more isolated. Promise?”
“Yes.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek just as Fergie returned from folding back the bedclothes. “Have a nice rest, Blair,” Laurie said softly.
She followed the housekeeper to a pretty guest bedroom. How lovely it looked painted in white, with the door and window frames made from well-polished Huon pine.
“This is beautiful. Thank you, Fergie. You must have worked hard getting everything ready.”
“No trouble, Miss Laurie.” She smiled at the words of praise.
“Would it be all right if I went exploring after I’ve unpacked?”
“I’ve already seen to your things, dear. Oh, I almost forgot. There’s a bathroom next door.” What luxury for someone who always saw to her own needs.
“Explore as much as you like, dear. I’m sure Mr. Blair warned you not to wander off. This is rough country if you aren’t used to it. As a little lad, Mr. Blair knew practically every bush and blade of grass, but it’s different for a newcomer. I’d best be off about my business.” She bustled away.
Laurie wandered into the bathroom to tidy herself up, then picked up a straw hat and made for the nearest door, which led to another guest bedroom. Next to it was a nursery with an ornate carved rocking cradle and several wooden toys resting on a side table.
Closing the door, she peeped into Blair’s room. He slept lying on top of the bedclothes. His boots and leggings lay discarded on the floor; otherwise he remained dressed.
It was a large bed, with a colorful patchwork quilt, but the remainder of the room appeared so bare as to be austere. He slept on his back with one arm tucked under his head, and she stood staring down at him. Guilt weighed her down. What a dilemma to be in. Living a lie but not daring to tell him the truth.
He rested peacefully, free from the pain that nagged at him most of the time. If only she could unburden herself to him now, explain why she had started this impersonation, but the doctors had been adamant. His memory must be allowed to return of its own accord.
“I love you,” she whispered, and she did. She now realized it wasn’t being disloyal to Danny to care for Blair. There was a part of her heart reserv
ed for him, always and forever, but she could not spend the rest of her life mourning for what might have been, continually resurrecting her shattered dreams. Danny wouldn’t want that.
This particular wing of the homestead held the bedrooms. The centre section consisted of a large dining room, with crystal pendant lamps in gold wall brackets. The dining set included a rosewood table with a folding flap at either end.
The reception room had gilded ceilings and ornate cherubs and laurels. Double doors, made of colored pieces of stained glass, opened onto a side verandah. This in turn led to a rose garden. Laurie began to realize Blair must be wealthier than she had previously supposed.
The pantry took up half of the large cheerful kitchen. A closed door most probably led to Fergie’s quarters. The housekeeper leaned over the flour strewn table rolling out pastry. “I’m making apple pie for dinner, Mr. Blair’s favorite. We preserve all our own fruit from the orchard out back, grow all our own vegetables, too.”
“Do you have many dogs?”
“A few working ones. There used to be a house dog, but he died last year. It belonged to Mr. Blair’s mother, but with the men being away and all, we haven’t bothered about getting a replacement yet.”
“How many men are employed here now, apart from Angus and Wally?” Laurie popped a piece of leftover pastry into her mouth.
“There’s Mr. Chong, our Chinese gardener, and two shepherds we don’t see for months at a time. All the young men have gone off to the war, so at busy times we have to make do with any casual stock hand we can get. Oh, there’s the odd aboriginal, too, though often as not, when we really need them they go walkabout.”
Even as she spoke, Fergie kept on working, and Laurie ingested every word. She wanted to know everything about Blair and his life.
“Mr. Blair had a fine flock of merino sheep, but with the men leaving, Angus got the shepherds to cull them, just left the best breeding stock. Cattle numbers are well down, too, quite a lot have escaped and gone wild in the hills. There weren’t enough men to round them up, but everything will be all right now Mr. Blair’s home,” she said with confidence.
The furnace-like heat hit Laurie as soon as she ventured off the verandah. Thank goodness she wore a hat. Down at the stockyards she watched Wally Morgan breaking in a young horse. What a wonderful rider, not cruel, either. Some horse breakers were harsh in their methods. Danny used to tell her tales about cruelty that even now gave her the shudders.
After a short time without shade, the sun seared her skin like a furnace blast. She headed towards the homestead via the orchard Fergie had mentioned. It stretched for two or three acres, at least. Apple, apricot and peach trees were the only ones she could recognize, as gardening had never been her strong point. The apricots were finished, but the peaches must have been a late variety as the branches were still laden with ripe fruit.
Two scarecrows flapping listlessly in the breeze did little to scare off the marauding bird life, she noticed with a smile, watching flocks of white cockatoos and pretty grey and pink galahs fighting and squabbling in every tree.
An elderly Chinaman nodded to her. She rather hoped he might have a pigtail hanging down his back, but the hair poking out from under his coolie hat was cut short.
“Hello, Mr. Chong.”
He gazed at her intently before moving his lips in what she hoped was an answering greeting. Apparently a man of few words was the gardener.
She traipsed back to the verandah, glad of the shade it afforded.
“Where have you been?”
She jumped nearly a foot in the air when Blair spoke. He lay sprawled out in a cane lounger. As he made to rise, she flopped into a chair next to his and gave a huge sigh.
He now wore white moleskin trousers with a short-sleeved work shirt. His hair was damp, combed back from his face in the rather severe style he seemed to favor.
“I went for a walk.” She was pleased to see him, and not afraid to show it.
“You look hot and dusty,” he commented with a smile.
“I am.” She pushed back a damp tendril of hair. “I stood out in the sun too long, I think. I didn’t realize it was so hot out in the open.”
“What you need is a cool drink.” He poured some orange juice from a jug resting on a small wooden table that had been hidden from her view by a huge potted geranium bush.
“Lovely, thanks.” She downed the contents in a few mouthfuls. “How do you feel now?”
“Better.” He smiled. “Have you seen the horses yet?”
Laurie laughed. “Of course, Mr. Morgan was breaking in a young one. That’s why I became so hot and dusty. I stood there watching for ages. The horse sensed straight away who was the boss, yet Mr. Morgan wasn’t cruel. I can’t stand cruelty to animals, especially horses,” she went on passionately, “they’re such noble beasts.”
“I don’t like cruelty myself. No need for it. A strong, firm hand is all a man requires.”
She chatted excitedly, feeling happy for the first time in months. “You have a wonderful home. If I lived here, I don’t think I would ever want to leave. No wonder you wanted to get back so desperately.”
“It’s a fine place. Over the years I’ve spent too much time away. School, and then I had business interests to attend to, and a few social things, as well. I was getting ready to settle down when the war came.” He frowned deeply as he grappled with elusive memories. “I met someone before I enlisted in the army, it must have been you, and yet…”
Laurie’s mouth went dry, her heart pounded, and guilt weighed her down once more. “Of course it was me.” You lying hypocrite. Did he notice how forced her laugh was? See the guilty red burning her cheeks? What would he do if he found out she was an imposter? “We met through my aunt and uncle.”
Hastily she changed the subject by asking if he could find a suitable horse for her to ride.
“Wally can pick you out a mount. Once I’m more mobile, I intend buying you a horse, something special, Laurie.”
“You don’t have to.” Green eyes stared into grey, and an aching need filled her heart.
“I want to. It will be my way of saying thank you. Do you remember me mentioning George McKinlay?”
“Mm.”
“He’s one of our closest neighbors. He’s been building up a good stud for a number of years with the help of his sons. Wally says Dick, the younger son, is home from the war now, badly shellshocked. There is something wrong with his heart, too. Hardly speaks a word. Poor lad’s in a real bad way.”
After this piece of information, he lapsed into a brooding, silent world she could not enter. He had been to places, seen sights so horrific his consciousness blotted them out, but in the deepest recesses of his mind they still haunted him. She wanted to help exorcise his demons but didn’t know how. All she could do was stay close by, offering comfort when he needed it. It was an awesome burden to carry around on her shoulders, but this was the price she had to pay for agreeing to share his life.
*
Dinner turned out to be a relaxed, pleasant meal. Angus and Wally only spoke when they had to, and she supposed they felt uncomfortable because of her presence. They drank their tea in the sitting room. When the men stepped outside on the verandah to smoke their pipes, she wandered out to the kitchen.
“Fergie, could I help with the dishes?”
“I don’t think Mr. Blair would like that.”
“Oh, he won’t care.” She brushed the housekeeper’s protest aside.
At Laurie’s insistence, Fergie capitulated, and when the dishes were finished they picked out a menu for the next day. Laurie went out to the verandah to find Blair on his own, leaning with both elbows propped against the rail, thoughtfully puffing his pipe.
The sun had dropped like a fireball behind the distant mountains, dusk was falling, and already the nightlife had started to make its presence felt. Crickets chirped loudly, and from somewhere in the distance the mournful call of a wild dog lingered in the night air. Even the
buzzing of a stray mosquito seemed to harmonize well.
“Care for a stroll?” Blair invited without moving his position.
“Yes, love to, thanks, but how did you know it was me?”
“Instinct. You know something? I’m glad you wear your hair loose, it would be a shame to trap those glorious curls.” He reached over and twisted one around his forefinger.
“Will I get your stick, or could you lean on me?”
“I’d much prefer leaning on you.” He chuckled. “What man would refuse such an offer?”
He grabbed hold of the verandah post to maneuver himself down the steps, and then they linked arms. He walked with a slow, uneven gait, so she slowed to match her pace with his.
The stables, built of the same sandstone as the homestead, had a coach house and harness room at one end, with horse stalls in the center. He pointed out where Wally Morgan lived, in an attic built above the stables.
“We kept several thoroughbred horses in my parents’ time; they were fine riders. I always kept two or three mounts for guests, too. I took Starlight with me when I joined the Light Horse. Firebrand, his half brother, runs in the paddocks. Wally exercises him as much as he can, but otherwise we only have work horses left now. I lost my best men to the army. Angus says it’s almost impossible to get any decent young men out here now, but when the war finishes, I’d like to build the stables up again.” He finished on a sigh.
Would there be any fit young men left? Not if the war keeps going the way it is. It was a depressing thought that weighed heavily on her.
They strolled towards a creek meandering past willow-lined banks just a few hundred yards from the homestead.
“Would you like to see our swimming hole?”
Laurie nodded. They followed the creek for a short time until it opened out into a lagoon. Giant weeping willow trees cast shadows over a stretch of sandy shore. A gentle breeze caressed her skin with cool fingers. The perfume of gum leaves, mingled with fresh clear water, wafted in her nostrils. No French perfume could compare with the smell of nighttime in the Australian bush.
“When I came home for the school holidays, I generally brought a couple of mates with me, and we used to sneak out of the house for midnight swims.”
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