Tiger nodded and turned to the men. "Right, start lifting the top layer off the drays, men, and you can take the wagons across. We'll have no trouble with the smaller loads." He dismounted and came to Isabella. "I suggest the women make camp this side, away from the animals," he said.
Reaching up, he assisted her from the wagon. As soon as her feet hit the ground Isabella disentangled herself from his arms. His golden eyes sparked with displeasure. To hell with the man, why was he suddenly forcing his attentions on her?
The task was slow and laborious. Even though they took half the load off the first dray it sank to its axle in the sand, so they were forced to unload more and tote it back. The next wagon had to return twice.
Tiger fashioned a line on a stick for the boys to dangle in the water to keep them occupied while the work went on. Dougal sullenly watched them for a while, then returned to the other bank to assist in caring for the stock.
As night fell and the bullocks returned for their final load, one of the teamsters approached Tiger as he rode out of the water, suggesting they unhitch the bullocks to let them forage.
Lily helped in the erecting of the tents then began to cook strips of pork in the long-handled pan over one of the fires. Agnes sat yawning, tired after helping with the chores.
"Tim, Dougie, come here," Isabella called. "It's well past your bedtime. Where's the bitch, Agnes? The boys were playing with her pups."
They'd been over-excited by the prospect of camping by the river. Tiger promised they could try to catch a fish again in the morning while the rest of the luggage was taken over. Isabella scanned the area within the circle of firelight. They'd been there just a few moments ago. A sinking in her stomach had her jumping to her feet.
"They went off behind yon bush, Missus," Agnes said, rubbing her neck as she stretched her arms above her head. "The boys had one of the pups with them. The bitch was following them."
The bitch appeared out of the undergrowth, the pup in her jaws. She put it in the box with the other pups, who squealed to be fed. Isabella scanned the bushes, her insides clenching when the boys didn't follow the dog. Time seemed suspended and an eerie silence surrounded her. Or was it the ringing in her ears drowning out all other sounds?
"You were supposed to be watching them." Panic caught hold of her as she lifted her skirt and headed in the direction the bitch had come from.
"Snake!"
It was Tim. And his shout had Isabella running. Then Tim began to scream, his cries echoing across the water, from tree to tree. Isabella muffled her cry behind a fist as she jumped over an indentation in the ground, swearing as her ankle twisted. Sweat broke out on her forehead.
"Tim? Where are you? For goodness sake, shout again." Fear made her voice shake along with her limbs, so she nearly fell as she darted through the dense growth.
"Here, Mama. A snake got Dougie."
"Oh my God!" Her vision clouded. She'd never known such terror.
The pain in her ankle was forgotten as she rounded a bush and saw Dougie on the ground. She threw herself on her knees and shook his small shoulders.
"What happened? Was there really a snake? Tell me, Tim." Frantic now, she ran her hands over Dougie's still body while she prayed Tim was wrong. Perhaps it was a lizard. They'd seen many of the reptiles during the day, and with every shred of hope in her she prayed he'd confused the creatures.
Tim shook his head. "It was a snake, Mama. It went over there." His small finger pointed behind him. He was shaking violently, and his eyes seemed to fill his grimy face.
Dougie opened his eyes and by the light of the moon Isabella could see his smile. "Dougie," she whispered, heaving a sigh of relief.
But then his eyes drifted shut. "No!" Isabella began to tremble so much her teeth chattered. Dougie made a strange snuffling noise in the back of his throat. She shook his shoulders, then screamed when he didn't respond. Scrambling to her feet she picked Dougie up and ran for the camp.
Tiger strode towards her. "Bella? Tim." His eyes darted from her to his son.
"It's Dougie, Tiger. Tim says a snake got him."
"Jesus!" Tiger pulled Tim into his arms.
When they reached the fire she gently placed Dougie's small limp body on the grass a few feet from its glow. Tiger knelt beside her. "Tiger, do something, for God's sake."
"A big snake came after the pup, Tiger." Tim caught at Tiger's hand. "Dougie and me tried to save it, but then its mama came and took it away. The snake wouldn't let go of Dougie's arm. I stamped my feet and waved a stick about like you told me and it went off. Will Dougie be all right?" He was crying silently, tears making little rivulets down his grubby cheeks.
Tiger pressed his lips to the fair hair sticking out at all angles. "It didn't get you, did it, eh?" Tiger looked the child over, lifting his small arms, studying each one carefully.
"No, Tiger, not me." Tim sniffed. "I didn't touch it, like you told me. Dougie will be all right, won't he?" He stared down at his half-brother, his mouth trembling.
Tiger pulled his lips back over his teeth, not answering. What could he say? Gently he pulled Isabella's arms away from Dougie. There were two bleeding holes on the tiny upper arm.
Jesus. What to do? "We can try to draw the poison out, Bella, but he's so small, I fear it's too late." Never in his life had he felt so useless.
"No!" The eyes she turned on him were those of a wild woman. Clutching his arm, she shook it forcefully. "Try it, you have to do something, Tiger."
Tiger said quietly to the onlookers, "Best fetch Dougal."
"Johnny already went over," someone said in a hollow voice.
Tiger drew out his knife and held it over the fire. His pulse-beat sounded like a drum in his head, pounding out his desperation. He'd seen this tried on a man once, and it did save his life. He wiped at the sweat dripping down his face then bent to cut a cross over the two marks.
Isabella's face was ashen, filled with despair, as he began to suck and spit. He saw the truth in her eyes; she had as little hope as he this would work.
Dougie's breathing had already slowed and his skin was growing sallow. And so cold.
"Dougie's gonna be all right, eh Mama?" Tiger suspected Isabella hadn't heard Tim's plaintive plea.
"Let me at my boy!" Dougal's shout echoed from the trees as he came rushing from the riverbank.
Isabella looked up at him with a wail of anguish. He pushed Tiger aside and dropped to his knees.
"No!" His dark head went back as he roared out the single word.
With a jerk he pulled Tim out of Isabella's arms, thrusting him away so forcefully he fell.
"Why weren't you watching Dougie, you stupid harlot?" Dougal yelled at Isabella.
"Enough." Tiger picked Tim up and strode away to hand his boy to Agnes, who hid behind a tent. When he came back, he stood over Dougal, saying as levelly as he was able considering the anger boiling within him, "There's no need to take it out on your wife, this was no fault of hers."
"No fault of hers?" Dougal began to shake Dougie as if he could force life back into the limp little body. "'Tis all her fault. The slut never cared for my son. 'Twas always Tim this and Tim that." His mouth twisted. "Why couldn't it have been him?" A shaking finger pointed Tim's way and Tiger clenched his fists at his sides. "Why not him instead of my boy?" He began to sob as he bent over the small body in his arms.
Tiger could easily have throttled the man with his bare hands at that moment, his hatred for him was so great. Taking a breath, he said in a low voice laced with menace, "I'll forgive you that, for you're in no fit state to think straight."
Dougal laid his son back down and turned stricken eyes on Isabella. Her arms were clenched across her breasts as if she tried to stop herself from falling apart. Still she rocked slightly.
"He's all you ever cared about," Dougal cried. "You're shameless. Him and his offspring. You would never have let it happen to Tiger Carstairs' precious son. You whore." He brought his hand back and struck her across the ch
eek.
With a small cry of disbelief and pain Isabella fell backwards, her hand going to her face. Tiger swore beneath his breath, then grabbed at Dougal's collar to drag him upright. "I told you once before about hitting a woman, didn't I?" He brought his fist back, then drew in a ragged breath as he tried to bring his temper under control. "We all know you're upset, but that's no cause to start taking it out on her, for God's sake. Have you no pity? Can't you see how she's suffering?"
"No cause? What about me? I've suffered in hell, and now my son, the only thing that brought me any happiness in this life, has been taken from me. And all because of her. Sweet Jesus—I ought to kill her. And you too." Jerking upright unsteadily Dougal swung his fist at Tiger.
Tiger sidestepped. God—how could he fight with a man whose son just died? "Leave it, Dougal," he ordered. The authority in his tone seemed to bring Dougal to his senses. With a shake of the head he knelt beside Dougie again.
"Too right, we'll settle this between us one way or another," Dougal agreed roughly, taking his son from Isabella.
"Let me have him," Isabella pleaded some time later. Dougal looked at her as if he had no idea who she was, then allowed her to take her child's body.
Isabella ran her hands over the tiny limbs, her sobs racking her. How could God have let this happen to her baby? There had been times when she'd lost patience with his tantrums, times she'd scolded him for his willful ways, but Lord, she'd never meant to be so harsh on him. He didn't deserve to die like this.
Perhaps Dougal was right and her sins had finally caught up with her. Dougal was her husband, yet she'd lusted after Tiger all these years. She'd never given Dougal a chance; no wonder he blamed her. She was Dougie's mother, yet had not protected him from danger.
She held her baby all through the night. Dougal sat by her side, staring starkly at nothing. When Tiger came to help her to her feet she could barely stand, her muscles were so cramped, her limbs stiff with fatigue. But she ignored her bodily pain; the pain in her heart was so great.
Carefully she dressed Dougie in his best clothes, lingering over the task, then she wrapped him in a blanket and carried him to the site Tiger and Thelma had chosen, well away from the riverbank.
The sun was just coming up as Isabella put the last rock in place above his grave. Then, like a puppet whose strings had been cut, she collapsed to the ground.
When Tim began to sob too Tiger picked him up, his eyes somber as he patted his son's back.
Dougal gave her a bitter glance, then strode away.
"Come, Bella, dear." Thelma pulled at Isabella's arm. "'Tis time to go. There's nothing to be done here now."
Isabella's head went from side to side as she whispered brokenly, "I can't leave him here, Thelma. Don't you see? How can I go away and leave him here all alone? I'm going back to town. I'll take Tim and go back. I can come and be with Dougie then." She rearranged the posy of flowers she'd laid on top of the grave.
"No." Tiger put a hand on her shoulder. A shudder ran through her and he felt it right down to his toes. "Look at me, Bella," he ordered.
She obeyed, but her eyes were clouded with grief. There was a coldness about her, as if a part of her had died too. Which he guessed was how it must feel for a woman to lose a child.
Putting Tim on the ground Tiger said bluntly, "There's nothing for you in town. You won't take Tim back with you, for I won't allow it." He cupped her shoulders in his palms, seeing the stubborn glint cross her eyes. At least that was better than the dead coldness that had been there before.
"The mighty Tiger Carstairs giving orders again, eh?" she said, ice running through her tone. "Well, you can't stop me. I'm free now. You don't own me anymore. You can't tell me what to do. Dougal doesn't want me, and you certainly don't. I'm going and there's nothing you can do about it." She held out a shaking hand. "Come Tim, stay with mama."
Dear God, Tiger wanted to hold her so badly his arms shook with the force of his longing. Indecisively Tim went to her, but before he could take her outstretched hand Tiger caught him about the middle and hoisted him into his arms.
"The boy stays with me, Bella. Go if you must, take Agnes and enough provisions to get you back to Sydney. But you'll not take my son."
It was a gamble, but the only one he could think of.
"Oh no. Suddenly he's yours, eh?" she shrieked. "You never wanted to lay claim on him before he was born. Give me my son."
Putting both arms about Tim she tried to wrest him from Tiger. He stepped back and Tim began to whimper.
"Or what?"
"Or I'll kill you."
Something inside Tiger shrank. Surely she didn't hate him that much. But who could blame her for the way he'd treated her over the years. "Bella, come, enough of this, let's get on. Please," he whispered, looking to Thelma entreatingly.
Thelma gently put an arm about Isabella's waist. "Tiger's right, girl. There's little back there for you except a life of whoring. Nothing you do now will bring the little fellow back. You have to come to care for Tim. And me. Lord, but I'd be lost without you. How can I manage with just that trollop Lily as the only woman to talk to in the godforsaken place out yonder?"
Isabella began to weep, deep dragging sobs that seemed to come from her soul. Tiger gripped their son tighter to resist the urge to take her in his arms, to offer comfort. Her grief tore him apart. She would likely spurn his advances anyway. Dougal was the one who should be offering her comfort at this time, but it was doubtful if he would ever recover from his loss. And worse, it was likely he would never forgive Isabella for what he saw as her negligence.
Tiger took his son to the wagon and handed him up to Johnny, saying, "Get up, Tim."
"Mama," Tim whimpered, his arms outstretched towards Isabella. The action seemed to pull her to her senses and she wiped a fist across her tear-soaked eyes. Silently she allowed Tiger to lift her onto the seat at the front of the wagon. She pulled Tim into her arms, then sat rigidly, staring at the mound of stones covering Dougie's grave, her face pressed to Tim's head.
Tiger stared up at her for a moment, feeling her grief with an intensity like a pain. Lifting one of her hands he placed a soft kiss on the knuckle. To his surprise she didn't draw back, but gave him a look that made him ache with longing. With a shuddery sob she pulled Tim close to her breast.
"Hold your mother tight, Tim." Tiger released her and gave Johnny a nod.
Johnny whistled to the lead horse, slapping the leather and they began to make their way down the steep bank and into the water.
Isabella continued to stare at the rough cross marking her baby's grave, craning her neck until it was well out of her sight.
Tiger kept Satan close by her wagon for most of the morning, but she seemed unaware of his presence, her eyes staring ahead as she gripped Tim like a lifeline in a stormy sea.
How many others would have their final resting place along this route in the years to come? Briefly Tiger questioned his decision to drag everyone along with him while he chased his dream.
Chapter Twenty Eight
It began to rain. The relentless downpour soaked their clothes, the animals, the sacking covering their belongings and provisions. The overhanging branches dripped water on them, at times lashing their faces as they rode beneath huge trees.
Isabella barely registered the drops running from her hair and down her nose onto her lap. Numbness filled every fiber of her being. The rain soaked right through to her undergarments, but she hardly noticed.
"I'm wet, Mama," Tim grizzled.
"We're all wet, son," she said quietly.
"Will Dougie come back one day, Mama? After he's been asleep awhile?" he asked for the tenth time.
"No, Tim. Our Dougie's gone for good." Her voice cracked over the blunt statement.
"Where's he gone, Mama?"
"I've told you already Tim, he's gone to heaven."
"But where's that Mama, and when will I see him again?"
"You'll see him when you go there, Tim, b
ut that won't be for years and years." Dear God, if she lost him too she would die of the grief. A part of her had died already.
Tim complained when she tightened her grip on him. Would they ever grow accustomed to life in this godforsaken place? The dangers she'd faced on the streets of Stepney paled into insignificance against the far greater dangers they faced here. Damn Tiger Carstairs for dragging her and the boys along with him. Dougie would still be alive if they hadn't left the security of the town. At that moment the feelings she harbored for the arrogant bastard bordered on hatred.
"We'll wait out the worst of this," she heard him order as he rode up alongside them. "'Tis easing ahead. We'll make camp and get the fires going, dry out as soon as it stops."
"What about Gillie and the others?" Thelma asked.
"They'll carry on and wait for us at the foot of the mountain road."
Isabella shivered. Her relief made her feel faint. Dougal was like a volcano waiting to erupt and she feared his anger. She couldn't bear to see the reproach she knew would be in his eyes.
"Get Thelma dry as soon as you can," Tiger said softly as he brought his horse alongside the wagon. "If she sits around in those wet clothes she'll end up with a sickness in her chest. Her cough is already worse."
Isabella turned a frosty glare on him. "And whose fault is that? If you hadn't dragged us to this god-awful place I'd still have Dougie and Thelma wouldn't be coughing fit to burst."
Tiger stared wordlessly at her, sorrow clear in his eyes, before riding off.
Isabella felt momentarily ashamed of her outburst. Why did he always bring out the worst in her? Deep down she knew the same fate could have befallen Dougie back at the farm, and she shouldn't really be blaming Tiger.
Thelma's cough had worsened in the last couple of hours, seeming to tear at her chest. Jesus. If she lost Thelma too she'd likely go insane.
Tiger ordered the men to rig a sheet of sacking above the fire using the branches of a wide reaching tree, crisscrossing it with strips of bark to keep off the worst of the rain.
Mystic Mountains Page 24