Chapter Thirty-three
Once through the corner gate and onto Ridgeway Station, Edwina began to regret her rushed decision. There was business to attend to; however, a fresh change of clothes should have been considered. Creased and slightly soiled from the hours in the kitchen, this was their second day of wear, and she’d slept in them. Edwina knew she appeared decidedly down-at-heel. Added to which, the bruising on her face was only marginally improved. This was not the impression she wanted to create, skirts bunched up in an ungainly fashion as she rode astride, the lace-up shoes replaced with riding boots, her pale calves visible. The mission demanded a certain level of professionalism, and her appearance was anything but that. Charles Ridgeway would think her poor and rough-natured. And what of Mason? For that man alone a change of clothes was demanded.
‘Too late.’ Edwina patted Heidi-Hoe as they walked through the timber. ‘Too late to turn back now.’ Although she wished for her own sake that she were a little more prettified, this was a chance to prove her capability. The importance of securing the funds owed them did not escape Edwina. For not only did she worry about her father’s recovery, this was an opportunity to show she could handle their business affairs as well as any man.
The bush was a tangle of prickly pear and thin-limbed trees. Tufts of wool were sticking to the pear where sheep had strayed too close. Edwina chose a northward-leading sheep track, the narrow depression dark brown and powdery from ceaseless trampling. The trail showed the defining marks of shoe-clad horses and she followed, knowing the riders’ path would meet up with a road that led to the homestead. There was only one gate between the two properties and the prints belonged to her father and the men who’d ridden out on Monday to meet with Charles Ridgeway.
Too soon Edwina was on the road where she and Aiden glimpsed the automobile and horseman last week. Here and there patches of pear appeared to be ailing. It was as if the water was being sucked out of their fleshy parts, leaving them to wither and brown. She wondered at the sickness ailing these few plants and Edwina peered at the cactus, speculating if the cactoblastis was responsible.
On the next rise sheep grazed in the distance, their greyish bodies speckling the grassland. There were hundreds of them pushing eastwards into the wind. She rode onwards, the heat tickling sweaty skin, the sun mounting the sky with increasing swiftness. Edwina licked the beads of perspiration from her lip, squinted into the glare, her nervousness growing.
Passing among the next grouping of knitted timber, she could see the iron roof of a homestead shining hard and bright through the leafy canopy. Edwina thought fleetingly of retracing her path, of heading back to safety, as she ducked under a bough. So absorbed was she by the steely corrugations of the house, the commotion to her left went initially unnoticed. They were a distance away, a half mile or so, but it was clear an event of great industry was occurring. Men were unloading lengths of wood from carts and in the midst of the action a chugging sound came from a steam engine.
‘Are you good with a saw then, Edwina?’ Mason rode towards her, his clothes browned by dust, a coiled rope over a shoulder, a pistol on one hip. ‘I could do with an extra hand. I’d apologise for my state, but then,’ he gestured to her clothes, ‘I see you don’t stand on ceremony either.’
Edwina felt her cheeks grow hot. ‘I’m sorry to have come unannounced.’
‘You don’t need an invitation here,’ he replied.
Clearly Mason and Charles Ridgeway were firm friends for him to be so welcoming. ‘I came to see Mr Ridgeway. Charles,’ Edwina reiterated when a prompt reply wasn’t forthcoming. ‘About the money he owes. It falls due today and as we have not heard otherwise, I find myself in the awkward position of having to meet with him.’
‘We are straight to business, aren’t we?’ Mason scratched the side of his face. ‘He’s not here.’ Then more quickly, ‘Gone to town actually.’
So she wasn’t to meet the elusive Charles Ridgeway after all. Edwina was relieved but also just a little disappointed. ‘To pay the debt he owes my father?’
‘And here I was thinking you’d ridden all this way to see me.’
He knew he was embarrassing her. Edwina combed Heidi-Hoe’s mane with her fingers. ‘It’s due today,’ she repeated.
‘So you said. Then I’m sure that’s what he’s going to do.’
‘So you don’t know for certain?’ What was she to do – wait here for his return or come back tomorrow? ‘I would have thought he’d have seen to his debt by now. A person shouldn’t have to go chasing for it.’
‘How do you know it hasn’t been paid?’ Mason swatted away flies. ‘Anyway, maybe he’s been busy, Edwina. He has been caught up in other affairs.’
‘Affairs that are more important than repaying a substantial amount of money owed to my family? Perhaps you should tell your friend to get his priorities in order for I see he is not without the necessary money to make improvements.’ She nodded to the labouring men. ‘If the money isn’t repaid today I will be forced to settle things with the help of the law.’ The noise from the steam engine grew. A distinctive whirring sound cut the air as the powered saw struck wood.
‘You’re very hard on Charles considering you barely know him and aren’t aware of his circumstances.’
‘I don’t know him at all,’ corrected Edwina.
‘Why are you here anyway? Shouldn’t your father be attending to these matters?’
Edwina considered telling Mason what had occurred, but with the debt still unpaid and Davidson out in the scrub hunting for the unknown attacker she knew it was best to keep quiet.
‘What’s happened?’ asked Mason.
Edwina rolled her lips. ‘You can’t tell your friend, Mason, promise me. I need to make sure the debt is repaid.’
Mason walked his horse closer. ‘If papers were signed the debt will be honoured.’
‘But if something happened to Father …’ she faltered, worried too much had already been shared.
‘Then it would fall to his estate. Edwina, please, tell me what’s going on.’
‘Father fell from his horse yesterday. It’s thought it could be the palsy.’
Mason slipped from his horse in one languid move. ‘Here.’
Edwina dismounted, his hands supporting her waist. They stood like that for the slightest of moments before Mason stepped away.
‘I’m sorry. Is there anything I can do to help?’
What could anyone do? Her father’s slap, the angry words. The terrible Gloria Zane. His illness. Mrs Ryan’s leaving. Aiden’s attitude towards her. ‘No, there’s nothing … it’s just …’ To her dismay Edwina started to cry. She brushed away the tears.
‘Hey, don’t be sad. I’ll help in any way I can. Just say the word,’ offered Mason. ‘Have you sent for a doctor?’
Edwina shook her head. ‘No, Mrs Ryan our cook said it was the palsy and the best thing to do was to get him up and moving about when he woke. Aiden was in agreement with her.’
‘Give him time to heal, Edwina.’
‘And if he doesn’t?’
Mason took her hand. ‘As I said, I’ll help any way I can. Just let me know.’
‘Thank you,’ she sniffed.
‘Come on, let me show you my new project.’
They walked towards the men and lumber. Holes were being dug, first with the breaking of soil with iron post hole diggers and then with shovels. Twelve-foot lengths of timber held by three men were stood upright in the deep hole. Once positioned, two workers held the post steady as others began to shovel the excavated soil, replacing the dirt in the cavity, packing it down hard.
‘Cattle yards,’ explained Mason, ‘big enough to hold four hundred head. Not quite as big as the yards I worked in up north, but big enough for Ridgeway.’
‘But I thought Mr Ridgeway only grew sheep.’
Mason cleared his throat. ‘Yes, well, not anymore. The whole lot will be gone very soon. I never took to them to be honest. Even as a kid I always preferred c
attle and, although there’s not much money in them at the moment, the market will eventually improve.’
Perhaps Mason was to be a manager of sorts for he certainly appeared to be taking control of the running of the property. ‘You’re staying then?’ She didn’t want to appear nosey.
‘Yes. Come and sit in the shade.’
‘I should be getting home.’ But Edwina followed Mason across the flat to the shade of a tree, far enough away to give them privacy yet allowing Mason to keep an eye on the yard-builders. They sat on a log watching as three men placed another post into a hole.
‘You need that money quite badly, don’t you?’ asked Mason, sketching a rough design of the cattle yards in the dirt.
‘My father likes growing things, wheat in particular. It just costs so much clearing the land of pear and timber and ploughing it.’ Edwina shrugged. ‘And now he’s sick.’
‘You’ll be getting your money. Just be careful with it.’
The relief was immediate. ‘Of course.’ Edwina knew she shouldn’t have depended on Mason for help and yet she’d known he would be an ally.
‘Your father invests heavily in the stock exchange and the market is quite unsteady at the moment. The London exchange has done badly over the last few days.’
‘Did Mr Ridgeway tell you that?’ asked Edwina.
‘In country districts, everyone knows everyone’s business.’
‘Do you know mine?’ She picked up a twig so that Mason couldn’t see her face.
It took time for him to answer. ‘I’ve seen the paper, yes, but I’ve also heard that your father runs a strict household when it comes to his children. That’s the thing about country people, Edwina; they hear the bad and the good.’
Edwina gave a tentative smile. ‘So you don’t think I’m this unstable person who has shamed my family forever?’ Was it possible that Mason could think so differently?
‘Of course I don’t. But not everyone in the district will be impressed by your adventure. You made quite an impact last Saturday, Edwina, dressed as that tomboy. You could never in your life pass as a man. It was a brave thing you did.’
‘And foolish.’
‘Well, if you remember, I did ask if you were sure you wanted to go home.’ Mason stretched his legs out in the dirt, crossing his ankles. ‘So will you tell me what happened that night? What happened to the lion cub?’
‘Will stole the lion. I was standing nearby when he took it and the circus people assumed I was with him.’
‘You were in the wrong place,’ said Mason. ‘So did you really brush me off that night because you had to get home?’
‘Yes,’ answered Edwina, ‘and besides, your friends didn’t want me hanging around.’
‘They said that?’
‘I overheard. Anyway, everyone was yelling and pointing at me, as if I were involved. I didn’t know what to do, so I ran after him. In the end Will helped me, Mason. He escorted me home and in repayment stayed for a week’s work. Father fired him but he left the lion behind.’
‘He brought the animal out to your property? So where is it now? Don’t tell me that there is a lion cub roaming inland Queensland?’
There was a steely spark in the way Mason looked at her.
Edwina grimaced. ‘It escaped into the bush. But it’s only young, Mason. About four months old. The runt of the litter. It wouldn’t hurt anything.’
‘Yet.’ Mason was unimpressed. ‘It should be trapped, Edwina. For everyone’s safety as well as the livestock.’
‘You’re right. With everything else that’s been going on I never thought about it. I’ll speak to Davidson about it.’
‘When you catch him, tell Davidson to bring him over to me. I can take the cub into town and say I found him along the way somewhere.’
‘And if it can’t be caught?’ asked Edwina.
‘Then we’ll have to try and shoot it.’ He looked at her expression. ‘A last resort,’ he promised. ‘And how about your run? Do you need a hand with anything?’
‘No, everything’s fine, thank you,’ answered Edwina. ‘Han Lee’s men have taken over the ringbarking and I’m thinking of asking them to stay on and help with harvest.’
Mason smiled. ‘I figured you’d have things under control.’ He leant forward and kissed Edwina full on the mouth. It was short and hard, more like a branding of ownership than a slow, lingering caress.
Edwina didn’t know why she slapped him across the face. Except that he hadn’t asked and it wasn’t expected. ‘I’m not one of those girls your friends talked about at the circus,’ she exclaimed. Edwina was on her feet, hands on hips, scowling.
‘I never said you were. Come here.’
‘No.’
Mason stood. ‘Come here.’
Edwina stamped her foot. ‘Why did you do that? Take advantage? I thought you were different.’
One of Mason’s eyebrows skewered upwards in a quizzical v. ‘So, the lady has been kissed before and I gather it was not to her liking?’
‘I never, I didn’t –’
‘We can rectify that.’
Mason was at her side in two easy steps. Edwina pushed at his shoulders, fighting the embrace, struggling to free her body from his strength.
‘Stop fidgeting.’
‘No,’ Edwina said forcefully.
‘God damn it,’ he complained, ‘this is never going to work if you don’t do what I say.’
Edwina stomped hard on his foot in response. He kissed her again. Not with the fledgling tentativeness of Will Kew but with an intensity Edwina could only describe as desire. ‘Why did you do that?’ she asked breathlessly, when she finally broke free of his embrace.
‘Because you’re a difficult woman who wouldn’t have said yes if I asked.’
Edwina couldn’t believe what she’d just heard. ‘If I wasn’t a difficult woman, would that make it alright for you to behave like that?’
‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to –’
One of the hands from the yard construction was yelling at Mason, asking him to check the measurements. Interrupted, he in return was calling back, cupping hands around his mouth, funnelling the words across the expanse of ground. Edwina took the opportunity to mount her horse as the yard-builder walked towards them.
‘Wait, where are you going?’ Mason called.
Edwina flicked the reins, motioning Heidi-Hoe to move. ‘Home.’ The horse went from walk to trot and then to a canter with a swift change of stride. This time Edwina didn’t look back. She’d received an assurance that she would get what she came for. Edwina was sure of that. What she hadn’t reckoned on, had never expected, was that with her coming to Ridgeway Station she would leave with not one thing, but two. She rode hard to the boundary, catching a glimpse of a rider ahead in the trees. It was Davidson. Instinctively she put hand to mouth and took a breath. ‘I didn’t see him there,’ she muttered. ‘I saw nothing.’ When next she looked in the rider’s direction he was gone from sight.
Chapter Thirty-four
The house was quiet on Edwina’s return. Astonished to find her father asleep in the parlour, Aiden dozing beside him, she went straight to the kitchen. Food and drink were the highest of priorities. That is, until she entered the hut to find a young black woman at the stove and Davidson washing bloody hands in the basin. To Edwina’s knowledge he’d never set foot in the kitchen before.
‘Miss.’ The girl gave what passed for a curtsey.
Edwina glanced from the copper-sheened water and the man at the sink back to the girl.
‘He fetched me he did, to cook and clean. Said you needed help.’ The girl rolled her bottom lip under her teeth. A long recent scar traced the right side of her face, the edges still puckered with healing. ‘I don’t eat much and I can do other things, like chop wood, bucket water, feed them fowls of yours. Anything you like. I’m Constance.’
She didn’t look more than fourteen or fifteen years of age and she was ebony black, darker than Davidson, who was drying his h
ands by rubbing them down the front of his shirt. Edwina shook her head, trying to clear her thoughts. ‘Where did you come from?’
‘The –’
The stockman bashed a fist on the kitchen table. The girl fell silent.
‘Where did you come from?’ asked Edwina more firmly.
‘He asked me to come, miss, he did. I do as I says. I won’t be no trouble and I don’t want none.’
Edwina wasn’t so sure about that. The girl was a full-blood, of that she was almost certain. As such, she should be reported to the authorities straight away. Either she would be reunited with her people on one of the missions or sent to an orphanage.
‘I threw that soup out what was in the pot, miss. It was awful bad. Must have gone off in the heat.’
Edwina reached for one of the roasted fowls cooked earlier. Half of it had already been devoured and she pulled off a drumstick and began to eat. The flesh was greasy but good and Edwina blessed the cub and his playtime, tearing free a wing. She would question the girl’s presence, but she’d already decided to take advantage of the much-needed help, at least in the short term. ‘I suppose I’ll never know if you found the man that attacked my father,’ she said to Davidson, picking the meat from the bone, thinking of his recent return from the Ridgeway boundary. ‘Do you know anything?’ she asked the girl.
The stockman sat down at the table and began sharpening the knife he carried. The blade moved diagonally across the whetstone, gathering in speed as the edge scraped across the rock.
‘No, miss, I weren’t there. I was still at the camp.’
‘What camp?’ asked Edwina.
The crackle of the fire broke the silence. The girl studied the pot on the stove. Davidson’s blade struck the whetstone.
She wondered now whether the white-eyed crow was not the loner they’d thought. If, like the bird he was named after, he too returned to his people at various times, to forage together. The new girl mentioned a camp. Had Davidson led them here? Away from white law. A Promised Land of sorts.
An Uncommon Woman Page 27
