‘I am only here to oversee the team. A new area requires a certain diplomacy. Here.’ Unfolding a parcel wrapped in brown paper he displayed a quantity of pale blue silk.
‘It’s very beautiful.’
‘It is yours.’ He saw the doubt she harboured, for he quickly added, ‘Your father wanted you to have material for a new dress.’
Edwina accepted the cloth reluctantly.
‘For the purposes of this trip I only have foodstuffs, herbs and spices. The lengths of silk I always carry and a few other oddments, but these things for your kitchen I can help you with.’ Placing a quantity of ginger aside he deftly peeled a knob, chopping it directly over the billy so that the pieces fell into the simmering liquid. A pinch of something dried was added along with a bunch of herbage that looked to have been pulled fresh from the ground. ‘And salt?’ he asked.
‘Yes, please.’
‘I only have the type for the curing of meats.’ Han Lee walked around the side of the wagon, returning with a solid lump in his hands. The piece was as long and as thick as his forearm, coloured a dirty white. ‘You must break it up of course, but it is very good. Very pure.’ Laying the piece of salt on the table he wrapped it in newspaper and placed it in a hessian sack along with the herbs and spices and the rewrapped length of silk. ‘It is from south of here at Rocky Creek in the hills of New South Wales. The last time I was there kangaroos were inside the cave licking at it. It hangs down from the roof in columns –’
‘Like stalactites?’ offered Edwina.
‘Exactly. A woman from the Rocky Creek sawmill told me about the caves many years ago. She said wild horses and cattle were fond of eating the salt as well, but the place is almost ruined now. People go there for picnics, driving their automobiles where there are no roads, cutting the salt down as keepsakes.’ At the fire Han Lee partially drained the rice, setting a portion aside in a porcelain bowl. ‘I want you to eat this, Miss Edwina. It will heat the blood and help with healing.’ He pushed the bowl across the narrow table.
There was no spoon offered. She didn’t want to offend.
‘Drink, drink,’ he urged.
The concoction resembled muddied water. Lifting the bowl, Edwina drank it, tasting the sharp spice of the ginger and the earthy tang of the herbs. The rice slid down her throat and she tipped the vessel, sweeping the smooth dish with her tongue.
‘You have not eaten this day?’ Han Lee waggled a finger like an indulgent mother. ‘You must eat.’
Edwina gave a guilty smile. ‘I better go.’
‘Wait.’ Producing a tiny metal pot, Han Lee unscrewed the lid, showing her the glutinous contents. ‘Twice a day, morning and night.’ He closed her fingers over the container of balm. ‘For the bruising. Be well, Miss Edwina.’
Han Lee assisted her onto the horse, tying the bag of goods to her saddle. She gripped the reins, thanking him for his kindness.
‘Come and visit us, Miss Edwina, we are always in need of the sight of a pretty woman.’ Han Lee bowed before walking back towards the wagon.
‘Well, Heidi-Hoe, let’s go home.’ The mare backed up and whickered softly, walking sedately along the trodden path away from the Chinese camp. The light of midafternoon shone through the bush, silhouetting the timber so that the branches appeared to curve between track and sky, forming a leafy tunnel. Edwina’s aches began to ease gradually and she wondered at the mixture she’d consumed, for the warmth Han Lee spoke of was spreading through her limbs. She stopped to apply the balm to her wounded skin, nose crinkling at the aromatic scent. Things would get better, she thought. They had to get better.
An answering internal voice queried, how?
Leaves crackled. ‘Who’s there?’ She was not so far from the Chinese but already the scrub had folded around her, as if the leafy shaft between the camp and the road home was momentarily blocked. Ahead a horse and rider walked onto the path a few hundred yards away. Edwina hung back, unable to tell if it was Aiden or her father. ‘Hello?’ The reins felt slippery in her grasp. The rider didn’t reply.
Behind lay the camp and Han Lee. Heidi-Hoe would return her there in an instant. But what was she running from? It could be her father back from town early and it would be just like him not to reply. The stubborn figure remained impassive. Finally Edwina kicked Heidi-Hoe lightly and the mare trotted onwards. The rider remained in the centre of the track. Stationary. Waiting. Of course it was her father. Edwina steadied herself for another tirade. Answering back would be pointless. She would do as her mother undoubtedly had – build a wall of silence and seal herself from his fury.
The space shortened between Edwina and the horseman.
It wasn’t her father. The man before her sat taller in the saddle and didn’t carry the weight that he did. Edwina rode on, doubting, anticipating. And it wasn’t Aiden. Heaven knew, her younger brother could afford to gain some pounds. Questioning who the stranger might be, Edwina tempered her speculation. This land belonged to her father and anyone who wasn’t invited or who wasn’t known was an intruder. She would be quick to tell them to be on their way
‘Hello, Edwina.’
Heidi-Hoe stopped of her own accord, wary of the pale gelding and the man on his back, one hand resting over the other, a cigarette glowing between his fingers.
Edwina edged her horse a little closer. She knew this person.
‘Mason?’
He tipped his hat and grinned.
Chapter Twenty-six
‘I wondered if it was you. When the housekeeper told me that everyone was away except for the daughter.’ Mason paused. ‘When she said your name, I thought I should find you and know for sure.’
‘But I don’t understand, I thought you were travelling through Wywanna?’ They sat astride their horses, their animals pointing in different directions, Edwina still adjusting to the sight of a man she never thought to lay eyes on again.
‘It was to be a short visit but I’ve been here for over a fortnight and having found my plans changed through circumstance, I’ll now be staying longer. A lot longer. I’ve quite taken to the country. It’s different to the Territory but … let’s just say I like the area.’ Flinging a leg over the saddle, he slid to the ground, holding out a hand to her. ‘And the people.’
Edwina ignored the courteous offer, recalling the words of his friends at the menagerie. There was pleasure in seeing Mason again, but she was also wary. Wary of his coming to the property and of the offensive innuendos spoken by Janice and H.J. that suggested that the man before her was not what he appeared to be. Edwina held tight to her skirt to prevent immodesty and got down from Heidi-Hoe of her own accord.
‘Better.’ Mason pointed to her skirt. ‘Not that I minded you as a man.’
She felt her cheeks colour as he came nearer.
‘What on earth is that?’ He moved to touch her face and Edwina flinched, backing away from him.
‘An accident,’ she murmured.
‘That’s no accident,’ replied Mason. Before she could stop him he was removing her hat. ‘I know the strike of a hand when I see it.’
‘Please,’ Edwina took the hat from him, stepping away from his concern, ‘it’s nothing.’
‘That is not nothing. It wasn’t that boy at the circus, was it? I worried about you being in his company. But you were determined to leave.’
‘I had to leave, Mason. I shouldn’t have gone to the circus in the first place.’ Edwina smiled tiredly. ‘And the man,’ she said with emphasis, ‘was Will Kew. He was working here, but he’s gone now. And no, it wasn’t him.’
‘Well, that’s different I suppose. He looked a bit down-at-heel, but he did step in and ensure I wasn’t annoying you. I guess people are a bit wary of opportunists these days, Edwina. Times are hard. There’s plenty of men looking for work and willing to take the advantage if they see an opening.’ He took a step towards her. ‘So who did hit you, Edwina? For we both know the wrongness of the act.’
‘You’re a stranger here, Mason. Ple
ase, you must let this be,’ she warned. Edwina was grateful for his concern, but more indebted to his thoughtful silence. Having such a thing done to her was one thing, attempting to give an explanation, quite another.
‘If there’s anything I can do?’ he said gravely.
They began to walk back through the bush, leading their mounts. The trees became sparse and the wind increased with the loss of the thick timber break.
‘Where have you come from?’ asked Mason.
‘The Chinese camp. They start work on Saturday.’
‘And you went alone?’
‘Of course.’ She patted the bag tied to the saddle. ‘I had to pick up stores for Mrs Ryan.’
Mason plucked a length of grass and began chewing the stem. ‘It’s a good distance to the homestead, Edwina. You shouldn’t be riding around by yourself. Where’s that brother of yours?’
‘I can look after myself, but how do you know Aiden?’
‘He should be with you,’ said Mason, ignoring the question.
‘My father’s in Wywanna and we are our own people when he’s away.’ Her brow puckered. ‘What are you doing here anyway?’
‘Actually, I came to see your father.’ He appeared to expect a response. ‘But I’m more pleased to be seeing you. I had no idea you were Hamilton Baker’s daughter.’
‘You know my father?’
‘A little.’
‘But how did you meet?’ queried Edwina. ‘At the Guild?’
Mason flicked away the grass he chewed. ‘At Ridgeway Station.’
‘Ridgeway Station? But I don’t understand.’
Mason ruffled Heidi-Hoe’s mane. ‘There was a disagreement over some business.’
They stepped over rotting timber, edging around the mound of an ant’s nest. Edwina was in no doubt that the meeting with Charles Ridgeway had not helped her father’s mood, nor her own cause. ‘My brother was there,’ she said to Mason. ‘He didn’t mention you.’
Mason drew back. ‘Really?’
‘I gather you’re a friend of Charles Ridgeway? If you are, I must ask you to tell him that the money borrowed must be repaid. My father is a businessman and your friend should know better.’
‘Charles …’ repeated Mason carefully.
‘Yes. I am sorry for his troubles. His and his sister’s. I know of their parents’ deaths, but it is no excuse for such behaviour.’ Edwina was puzzled by Mason’s expression. Was it possible that, like her, he knew little of the detail involving the dealings between her father and Charles?
At a sparse-leafed tree they sought shade, Edwina feeling the pinch of the sun on her cheeks and neck.
‘You’re right of course, but perhaps my friend found himself in a predicament that was unexpected,’ replied Mason. ‘Maybe he thought a little latitude could be given considering the situation, instead of a talking-down.’
‘I am not interested in your friend’s problems, only in the happy result of the monies being repaid,’ snapped Edwina. The muscles in his jaw contracted. ‘I’m sorry, I should not have spoken like that.’ He wasn’t responsible for Charles Ridgeway’s behaviour.
‘He has a temper your father, doesn’t he? As do you, I see.’
The wind stayed constant, smacking at the clouds as if shooing them away. Edwina always hated the spring winds. They pushed and pulled at a person, foretelling the coming of summer with its heat-withering days and baked-earth smells. A reedy branch overhead trembled as a single bird settled in the boughs. ‘I’m sorry, Mason. You’ve caught me out of sorts today. So you’re staying at the station with the Ridgeways?’ she tried more amiably.
‘Yes.’ Swinging up into the saddle, Mason stared down at her. ‘I was sorry when you left the circus early.’
How should she reply – that having seen him again she too was glad? Unsureness kept Edwina silent. She was not a plaything, as his friends had alluded, and Mason’s host was not a neighbour to be admired. ‘Are your friends still with you?’ It was the only thing Edwina could think of to prolong the conversation.
‘They leave tomorrow. I don’t think it was quite the adventure the girls thought it would be. But then nothing ever quite turns out the way we hope it will. Does it?’ He tipped his hat, clucked to the gelding to be on their way. The horse walked off sedately.
Edwina clutched at Heidi-Hoe’s reins. If rudeness were a gift then surely she’d just shown herself to be overburdened by the talent. The space between them grew. Maybe she’d been too hard on Mason. He’d sought her out after all and in a few minutes he’d reach the homestead road. Edwina knew he would keep riding in a northerly direction, reaching the tree line that divided this grass paddock from the wheat beyond. The jagged contour of timber was barely ten minutes ride away. Ten minutes and then he would be gone. She thought of Will and stamped a foot on the hard ground in annoyance. She should let Mason leave … but she couldn’t. What if this time she really didn’t ever see him again? Edwina’s skirts swished as she began to move through the grass. This is ridiculous, she muttered. She couldn’t believe she was actually walking after a man. Heidi-Hoe threw back her head as if in disagreement with her actions. ‘Mason?’ Edwina finally called.
Horse and rider halted. Edwina steadied her breath, shushing at Heidi-Hoe to stop her carrying on.
There was a definite pause before Mason pulled sideways on the reins, the gelding spinning around as directed. Edwina waited, but neither Mason nor the horse budged. For a moment they simply faced each other across a bridge of air-stooped grass. Her clammy hand opened and closed on folds of her bunched skirt. A sliver of perspiration trickled across her stomach. He was making her pay for her rudeness. Edwina walked on.
What should she say? That she was pleased he’d come? That she wished they’d met under different circumstances? That she’d like to see him again? Surely a woman couldn’t be that audacious. She pushed the thought of Will to the back of her mind. There was nothing wrong in being friendly.
‘Yes?’ Mason drawled, when Edwina was close enough to see moisture patterning the hair under one of the gelding’s eyes.
She wet her lips. It was clear he wasn’t going to make this easy for her. ‘Thank you for coming.’
Mason gave the slightest incline of his head. ‘Maybe I’ll come again.’
He gave her a lazy smile before nudging the gelding to action. Edwina observed him until the hedge-work of ridge timber concealed horse and rider from view.
Chapter Twenty-seven
Edwina and Aiden ate the chicken pie with its mashed potato topping and then took tea in the sitting room. Mrs Ryan could be heard banging around in the kitchen, the clash of pots resonating across the short space between the two buildings in the evening air. The woman was vocal in her annoyance that their father had not bothered to let her know he would not be returning that night. She’d gone to great trouble to make his favourite dinner, claiming it might calm his temper. Her irritation amused Edwina, considering the number of mangled chickens in the meat safe. The fowls couldn’t be wasted.
‘Mrs Ryan didn’t seem convinced it was a fox,’ said Aiden, alluding to the attack as he set a lantern on the inlaid table next to their father’s empty chair.
‘What else could it have been?’ The thought of the dead birds reminded Edwina of the lion cub. Will’s departure left her sole custodian of the stolen animal for he’d not taken it with him. What on earth was she supposed to do with it? The animal had been locked inside her bedroom all day.
‘Did you know Father wasn’t coming home?’ Aiden poured tea, handing a cup and saucer to his sister.
‘No, I didn’t know he was even going to Wywanna until Mrs Ryan told me.’
‘He usually tells us if he’s staying overnight. He talked about speaking on behalf of the Chinese to the owner of that land they want to buy. But I didn’t think it was that urgent or that he’d need to stay overnight.’
Edwina wasn’t that fussed if their father returned or not. The thought of him doing unmentionable things with
that woman made her sick. Did he have no respect or love left for their mother? Through the parlour window a dusty pink formed a backdrop to rippling rows of fish-scale cloud.
Aiden took a sip of the milk-less drink. ‘I saw Sears today. He’s not very happy about losing out to Han Lee’s team. I thought he might have an attack of the fits he was that annoyed. I was half expecting him to punch me or at the very least confront the Chinese on the way out.’
‘But he didn’t and you paid him.’
‘Yes.’
‘Well, then it’s just as well he’s gone. I think Han Lee’s men will do a good job.’
The pink sky darkened. Edwina watched the dogs sprawled in front of the homestead chewing on kangaroo bones left over from their dinner.
Aiden lit the wick of the lantern. ‘And does that go for Will Kew as well? Are you pleased he’s gone?’
Edwina stopped stirring the sugar in her cup. ‘What is that meant to mean?’
‘I saw you with him a few times. Sneaking around the stables and the tack room.’
The spoon clattered on the saucer. ‘How dare you. I don’t sneak, Aiden. I should be asking you why you were spying on me.’
Aiden shrugged, settling back in the sofa with its faded embroidered cushions. ‘No need to get riled, Edwina. I saw you. That’s all I’m saying, and Father didn’t take much to having a young bloke like him in close proximity to you. He asked me to keep an eye out when I could. Anyway, I thought that maybe there was something between you, especially after he brought you back from Wywanna last Saturday.’
‘There was nothing between us,’ answered Edwina. ‘How would there be?’ She sucked at the teaspoon, aware that her brother was watching her carefully. It was the first time the subject of the circus had arisen since the weekend, Aiden’s taking of the buggy keeping his silence. ‘He was a strange boy.’
An Uncommon Woman Page 23
