by Lucy Walker
She stood quite still and waited: for after all she too was on this track.
Bern wheeled the horse to the side and pulled on the reins so the animal’s head tucked in as he reared on his hind legs. Then his front feet came down and the horse stood still as a statue. Still as the wandoo trees.
Bern swung down from the saddle, shortening the reins as he did so, and stood by the horse’s head and looked down at Katie.
‘So they brought you home safely?’ he said. There was something quizzical in the smile but Katie knew it was only there because she was little and he was tall; he had a horse and she stood alone on her feet. That made him big and powerful and in charge of the situation. She was new and homeless and dependent on him; and whatever he did with her.
He could afford to smile that way ‒ as if he was being gentle to a child.
‘So they brought you home?’ he said again because she did not answer.
‘Yes … if here is home. Is it?’
‘For a few days. Then I’ll take you back to my place ‒ Malin’s Outpost. That will have to be home for you, Katie, for quite a while.’
There was a long silence and she looked up at him, puzzled.
‘You mean Gideon Dent’s place? It’s his house, isn’t it?’
Bern Malin jerked up his chin and stared out over the grassy waste that led from here to the saddling yards where Tom Ryde stood, hands tucked in his belt, watching them.
So Tom Ryde and Katie were quickly friends! They had been exchanging confidences!
‘Yes, you might call it that,’ Bern said slowly, bringing his eyes back to Katie’s face. ‘I happen to live there now. Does that matter? Unless ‒’
His eyes searched hers.
‘Unless there’s more company here, Katie, and you’d rather stay here. You’d be very welcome, I know. The Rydes like having people to stay. It breaks the monotony for the girls ‒ and for Tom.’ He said this last as if he had only now thought of Katie’s impact on a man like Tom.
Men in the bush were lonely ‒
She had looked so alone herself ‒ that night standing by the fire with the light playing all over her. He guessed what might be in Tom Ryde’s heart. It was like that in the bush. Fast as a bush-fire. Men were lonely.
‘It is for you to decide,’ he said abruptly. ‘But rightly your place is at Malin’s Outpost. That is a home upon which you have claim. After all ‒ Gideon Dent built it.’
Chapter Seven
That was a poser, that was. It was to be her decision as to whether she stayed with the Rydes, or went to Malin’s Outpost.
Katie had mixed feelings seeing Bern Malin standing beside his horse, looking down at her.
He was here ‒ and by horseback! That meant that where-ever he had gone in his car when he had left them at the foot of You-self, it had not been so very far away. Why had he gone away so suddenly? Where?
There was a hazed memory too ‒ of Stella Ryde with her lovely elbows propped on the breakfast table and the wonderful hazel eyes looking at her with a mixture of suspicion and disdain.
Stella was on guard. Jill had said it was about Bern.
‘What are you staring at, Katie? Do I look unreal? You haven’t answered my question ‒ Do you prefer to stay with the Rydes rather than bring Andrew back to my place with me?’
Katie collected her wits.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said. ‘I thought you had driven away for days or weeks or something. I didn’t think it could be you ‒ I mean the horseman coming through the trees ‒’ She broke off. ‘Do I sound silly?’ she asked.
The smile flickered in his eyes, then went out.
‘You sound like a very serious person determined to say the right thing, if possible. I’m sorry I did not warn you I would be back at Rydes’ by to-day, or to-morrow at the latest. I wasn’t certain myself.’
Tom Ryde was walking slowly along the track from the paddock towards the trees.
‘Hi, Tom!’ Bern said, lifting his hand.
‘Hi, Bern!’ Tom was slow-speaking so that he almost sounded like Taciturn. ‘How far have you come? It’s still pretty early in the day.’
‘The camp out at Number Five. I had left two men working out there with Jim Potts and his wife cooking and generally doing for them. I’ve sent the Pottses back to my place in the car to fix up a few things for my visitors.’ He glanced at Katie again. ‘I hope they didn’t find it too much of a camp the other night. I depended on Jill to right all wrongs.’
There was a silence. Katie had noticed that Tom was always silent before he said anything, as if he was thinking it by words, one at a time, before he gave any utterance to thoughts. He was very like Taciturn in a way. She supposed it was living so far outback and with so little human contact during the day’s work ‒ that made him like this.
‘You thinking of taking Katie and Andrew back there?’ he asked at length. ‘Bit far and lonely for a young pair, Bern. You thought that out? Strange country for them hereabouts, you know. They need company a bit.’
Bern’s grey eyes were expressionless.
‘They’re my guests, Tom,’ he said.
There was some kind of struggle of communication going on between the blue eyes and the grey ‒ Katie could see that. She could guess what it was about. Bern could hardly say in front of her ‒ I can’t foist my responsibilities on your people, you know.
Tom would be thinking of Stella, and knowing that Stella would hate Katie to be over there alone ‒ except for these Potts people ‒ with Bern. Tom wanted to battle his sister’s cause, naturally.
It was an awkward moment.
‘Please ‒’ Katie said anxiously. ‘I wish there was somewhere round here ‒ perhaps some station out-camp or something ‒ where I could work. I do not want to be anyone’s guest. I want to find my cousin so that I will know that Andrew will be in good hands. Then I want to work.’
Both men looked at her as if she was a child and not fully responsible for anything she said or did.
‘Best you stay along with us, Katie,’ Tom said slowly. ‘We like having you ‒ and the young whippersnapper too. We don’t have visitors in months and the girls will like having you around‒’
Suddenly he grinned, becoming boyish again as he had been the night before.
‘Besides you’re good at bread-making. I heard you say that when I came back on the veranda to get my saddle. Stella’s no good with the dough and it’s her turn this week. If you go off now the whole Ryde family’s going to be upset. Mostly Stella. She can’t stand bread-making.’
Katie touched Tom’s arm as she smiled back at him.
‘That’s nice of you, Tom,’ she said. ‘I would love to stay, but I have to be independent, somehow. You know that, don’t you?’
She looked up into the open face that had Jill’s eyes, and the straw-coloured hair under the old sombrero hat. He wore it poked back so that the brim was more like a halo than a useful shelter from the sun. Tom was very nice, and the expression on her face said so.
Bern Malin stood still, watching them. His grey eyes were shuttered and his mouth was the straight line again. Katie was aware of this but did not take her own eyes away from Tom’s face.
‘You do see what I mean?’ she asked.
‘I guess we’d better put it to Mother,’ Tom said. ‘She has a way of deciding things; and no tree-nuts thrown.’
Tom turned to the other man and grinned.
‘Come on over to the homestead, Bern. There’s bound to be a cup of tea around; not to mention a couple of girls all waiting to get in a whirl because you’ve turned up. Nice to see you. Come to think of it, it’s weeks, isn’t it? They’ll have been missing you over at the homestead. ’Specially Stella.’
Did Tom have to say that, Katie wondered? Or was it a gentle way of telling her Bern was the Rydes’ preserve: not hers?
‘Coming, Katie?’ Bern asked quietly.
All further conversation on the topic of where she stayed and with whom, would now be deferred
until some conference time between Bern Malin and the Rydes. In typical outback fashion they would decide her fate in her absence. Being mere woman she would be expected to accept and follow any advice given.
They walked towards the house, some three hundred yards away, with Katie between the two men, and Bern leading his horse.
The men talked over Katie’s head ‒ Tom slow-drawling and Bern in few words. They seemed, temporarily, to have forgotten she was there.
It made Katie furious, in a way. It was like living in Victorian times when the daughter of the house spoke only when spoken to.
They didn’t mean to do it but they were reducing her in size and age. She would bide an appropriate time and do something about that.
‘Guess we missed the whip-rains up from the south coast in February,’ Tom was saying. ‘Now it’s a case of waiting for a late cyclone up north.’
‘You’ve all the feed you ever want from that waterhole, Tom. There’s seepage right through from the breakaway. What do you want with rain?’
‘Well, kinda cools things off, and makes a change,’ Tom said dryly.
He was very likeable, Katie thought. She was getting fond of Tom, in spite of his gentle reminder about Stella’s claims.
Mrs. Ryde and Jill gave Bern a great welcome. They had seen the trio coming along the track and already the kettle was on and a batch of scones whipped up and browning in the oven.
Mrs. Ryde shook hands warmly and Katie could see the older woman was very attached to Bern. Her face, when she wore that particular kind of smile, was an open book.
‘Come on in, Bern. Never mind the dust on your clothes. My men are always dusty. No, the veranda won’t do for morning tea. It’s too hot by far out here.’
Bern Malin seemed a different man when he was talking to Mrs. Ryde. He was human ‒ and smiled easily. What was more, Mrs. Ryde treated him as if he was an ordinary human being: not rare or god-like. Katie wondered why she didn’t do that herself.
Jill was dressed in slacks and a sleeveless blouse. ‘Good-day to you, Bern,’ she said when she came into the living-room to meet him. ‘How’d we leave your place? All spick and span? Katie did some of the sweeping and we brought the sheets and towels home to wash. If you’re good, we’ll do them by to-morrow. Staying the night?’
‘I wouldn’t know what the place over there is like,’ Bern grinned. ‘I haven’t been back. Your reputation is sound enough, Jill, and I’m certain you remembered to empty the rubbish box. Thank you for the invitation ‒ I’ll stay the night.’
Jill tossed her head.
‘We worked quite hard at it, didn’t we, Katie? I mean at cleaning up in your homestead. By we I mean Katie and Taciturn too. No one on earth will ever get that wallabysized boy, Andrew, to do anything but wander about looking at things. For heaven’s sake, Bern, have you discovered what he’s looking at all the time and why? We haven’t.’
‘That’s the reason I’ve come to take him home with me, Jill. He needs a man’s hand and some wakening up. I’ve sent Mr. and Mrs. Potts in from the Number Five camp so they’ll be able to look after the two of them in my absence.’
‘You mean Katie too? You’re taking Katie too?’
They were all in the living-room ‒ only Stella had not put in an appearance yet. Katie was standing with Tom at the window while he pointed out to her the change in colours in the grass where the water seepage ended, but she overheard the conversation between Jill and Bern.
‘Yes, Katie too, if she decides to come.’ Bern’s voice was firm.
‘My, my! Potts and Co. as caretakers, and all ‒!’
Jill was obviously taken aback. Was it for Stella’s sake? Bern had not asked for Stella. Perhaps he knew she would come in, in good time. Beautiful Stella couldn’t help but make a difference to the atmosphere of a room when she entered.
‘I’ll help you bring in the tea, Jill,’ Katie offered quickly. She smiled at Tom in excuse for leaving him. ‘Be back soon,’ she added.
‘Mind you do,’ Tom replied. He turned to Bern as Katie went out. ‘Take Andrew for curry-combing if you must, Bern, but leave Katie with us. We’ll look after her. She needs company.’
‘She’d never leave the boy,’ Bern said. ‘That’s the problem. It’s been the problem all along and the reason why she’s here at all.’
Katie heard him from the open door.
Her chin went up as she crossed the kitchen to take the slide of hot scones from the oven which had been left open. Jill, who had gone with her, passed her the tray with the cups and saucers. Jill looked very thoughtful.
It wasn’t a surprise to Katie to know she was a problem. She’d known it in advance. She had not come here to see Bern Malin. She wanted her kinsman. She wanted Gideon Dent.
Even though her chin was up as befitted a person with red in her hair it was quite an effort to keep her lips from trembling.
She ought to stay here with the Rydes; with Tom. He would be kind and chivalrous. He might tell the truth but in not quite so hurtful a way.
Yet she wouldn’t leave Andrew.
She put the oven slide on the table and buttered scones furiously.
She and Andrew would be safe with Tom and Mr. Ryde, if only they could stay here. The Rydes could teach Andrew what he needed to know to make him more practical, less a dreamer.
Why wasn’t it Tom Ryde who had come to meet them at Malley’s Find? Why did it have to be Bern Malin?
Katie wasn’t fooling herself while she asked these questions. She knew Bern Malin had worked ‒ without effort on his part ‒ some alchemy into the atmosphere that surrounded him when he was near her. It was something she had to fight with a will. She was certain that close enough to him for long enough she would shake it off.
She meant to shake it off!
Tea was poured and Jill was passing round the scones when Stella came in.
Stella had, of course, been doing herself up, but oh so beautifully! She wore a white blouse and blue slim-fitting slacks; and they were stunning ones. The blouse was of some soft moulding material and the slacks made her look more like a ballerina than someone from the inner bedroom. Her face was barely made-up, and yet it had been carefully done. The lovely fly-away eyebrows pointed up her beautiful eyes. If one looked at Stella a hundred times a day, Katie thought, one would still notice and wonder at those eyes.
‘Hallo, Stella!’ was all Bern said, but there was a softness in his voice. Katie was sure of that.
‘’Lo, Bern.’ Stella was too casual: too interested in reaching for her cup of tea as Jill poured it.
Something had come into the room with Stella. A magic?
‘What’s your decision, Katie?’ Tom Ryde asked as Katie carried the plate of scones to him.
‘I’d love to stay, Tom,’ she said gently. ‘But if Andrew goes, I must go. You know that, don’t you? I must stay with him for a little while. Then I’ll go back ‒ to get a job ‒’
‘Please do stay here, Katie,’ Mrs. Ryde begged warmly. ‘We’d love to have you, wouldn’t we, girls? As long as you like to stay. Don’t think you are accepting a kindness, dear. There’s lots to do here and we’d welcome an extra pair of hands. ’Specially as Stella wants to take a trip to Pandanning soon.’
Bern Malin was silent. He wasn’t exactly pressing her to come with him. Yet go with him she must. She had to know when Andrew would be taken to Gideon Dent, and that he would be happy as well as safe. Couldn’t they all understand that? Nothing on earth would make her part from Andrew till she knew he would be happy. This in spite of the fact she was reluctant to upset the Rydes; especially Tom and Stella.
Tom Ryde looked from Katie to Bern Malin thoughtfully.
‘It sure looks like Bern is taking Andrew ‒ without any yes or no about it,’ he said slowly. ‘I kind of wonder why you feel you must, Bern? The boy’s all right here. We can look after him till you dig up that cousin of his. Where is he? This Gideon Dent? Times, off and on, we hear about him, but no one seems to know much
. No one I know’s ever seen him. He got a burrow somewhere in the rocks outback?’
‘I’ve always thought he was pure imagination,’ Jill said shortly, selecting a scone with care. ‘Oh, I know he existed once. Everything for a thousand square miles is named after him, or his tracks, or waterholes, or something. Prospectors come through here asking for him. We always say he’s dead or gone.’
‘He exists very much,’ Bern Malin said briefly. ‘Have you ever seen Malley or Doherty, Jill? They’re out there. Like most prospectors they shun people, towns and civilisation. They’re bushmen, and that’s the only way they know how to live. Nobody ever sees them either.’
Jill looked disdainful.
‘That’s where the name Malley’s Find comes from, I suppose? This Gideon Dent is like that too? You mean to tell us, Bern, you’re seriously thinking of taking Andrew and Katie to live with someone like that? They live in bush-bough camps or caves in the gullies, and keep moving ‒ those prospectors ‒’
‘Gideon Dent can offer much better than that,’ Bern said gravely. He paused.
‘Please do explain, Bern,’ Mrs. Ryde begged. ‘I feel rather concerned about these children myself.’
Stella laughed. ‘Children? Oh, Mother, really! Andrew perhaps, but Katie wouldn’t like being called that I’m sure. Not that she doesn’t look quite childish at moments. Oh, in a nice way, of course.’
Katie did not like being called a child, except she knew Mrs. Ryde meant it kindly. She was not very tall, and was slim. When she did her hair in twin pony-tails, which she was used to doing in the mornings to keep it out of the way and tidy, the people back home had always shaken their heads about her looking after her father and Andrew.
‘Such a child!’ they used to say, as if she wasn’t capable of running a weatherboard cottage, a sick father and a young brother.
She had been capable. More than capable, she knew that. She was proud of it too.
Even as Mrs. Ryde and Stella were using this word ‘children’ she felt her chin go up and her back straighten.
This was the old defensiveness against which her father had warned her.
