‘Father?’
‘I don’t want to talk about it, Aiden. Suffice to say that I too have suffered from this disaster.’
‘Oh.’
If Edwina were here she would begin questioning him. Asking the size of his investments, the companies involved and the extent of his portfolio. What the possibility was of getting any of the money back. He could have done with the girl right now. Would have enjoyed venting his fury and shock at his enquiring daughter. But she wasn’t here and there was no recouping what had been lost and he certainly wasn’t giving Edwina the satisfaction of knowing of this setback. He looked to his son. ‘Not a word to your sister.’
‘But, Father, what about Condo Station. Shouldn’t you reconsider her buying of it? I mean, if you’ve lost on the share market don’t we need the money?’
‘She wanted the blasted place so she can have it. Good riddance.’
‘But, Father?’
‘Not a word, Aiden. Not one word.’ He held out his glass. ‘More rum.’
Chapter Forty-five
A week later Edwina was in the parlour drawing up an inventory of station supplies and cross-checking it against one mailed to her by Luke Gordon. The requirements were considerable. Apart from the large quantities of flour, sugar, potatoes, vegetable seedlings and tobacco, there were bits and pieces needed, ranging from axes, nails and ammunition to saddlery items. Fortunately, as the station was government owned and being sold on a walk-in walk-out basis, everything from draught and stock horses to a number of drays and wagonettes, as well as a buggy, were included in the sale. Edwina glanced up from the exhaustive list as Aiden arrived back from Wywanna.
Constance set down the tray things. ‘Anything else, miss?’
‘An extra cup for Aiden please; he’s just arrived home by the sounds of it.’
‘Yes, miss. And the boss?’ asked Constance.
‘Not with me,’ answered Aiden, entering the room and flopping down in the seat opposite Edwina.
Constance fetched a teacup from the sideboard in the drawing room and setting it on the tray left brother and sister alone.
Edwina smiled fondly at Aiden. The one thing buoying the thought of leaving her childhood home was the knowledge that Han Lee and his team would travel with her at the end of harvest. Her father was not pleased with this arrangement but as the Chinese were not contracted to do further work on Baker’s Run, no agreements had been broken. The plots of land Han Lee now owned on the outskirts of Wywanna were to be run by other family members.
‘Fernleigh’s dead,’ said Aiden. ‘Found strung up on the other side of the dingo fence. He’d been mauled by dogs and pigs.’
Edwina gasped, setting her notes to one side. ‘Who told you?’
‘Everyone was talking about it at the Post Office.’
‘He did it then?’ Edwina didn’t dare speak Davidson’s name aloud.
‘I suppose so. It’s difficult to think otherwise. I always thought Fernleigh was involved. I mean who else could it have been? Father and Fernleigh do have history.’
‘Do you think, is there any chance –’
‘That Davidson will be connected to the murder?’ interrupted Aiden. ‘I doubt it.’
‘I know there was little we could have done to stop it occurring, but it shouldn’t have happened.’
‘Lots of things shouldn’t have,’ replied Aiden.
The reproach stung. Her brother chose to remain quiet regarding the purchase of the property but she knew in her heart that Aiden didn’t agree with her actions.
‘Don’t make of mess of things, will you, Edwina. I mean that’s my inheritance you’re playing with.’
‘I’m entitled to a share, Aiden.’
‘Husbands usually provide for their wives,’ he countered.
‘Well, I have no husband, do I? And anyway, there’s still money. Father has it squirrelled away.’
‘You better read this. I didn’t say anything sooner because Father was adamant I didn’t tell you.’
The newspaper Aiden passed her carried a headline speaking of a massive stock market crash in New York. Millions had been lost. There were stories of businessmen killing themselves. ‘This is horrid.’ Edwina met Aiden’s concern. ‘Father’s shares?’
‘I left him in town, Edwina. He’s waiting to hear back from his broker about other investment opportunities. Father estimates he’s lost at least sixty percent. The problem is that most of his shares were American. I thought you might reconsider your leaving now you know.’
If Hamilton Baker were in a bad mood before, Edwina mused, wait until he returned home having paid for a property he didn’t want and now being faced with a financial crisis. She stared at the headline. Edwina knew that she should feel guilt-ridden. That a measure of accountability should compel her to sign over Condo Station to her father.
‘I’m sorry, Aiden. I feel unhappy for Father’s loss but I can’t forgive the hardships we’ve been forced to endure when there has been money all along. More money than we could dream of.’
‘Not anymore,’ replied Aiden with a frown.
‘When did he find out about this?’ asked Edwina.
‘A week ago.’
‘Don’t you see? Father could have told me about his stock losses or simply reneged on our agreement, but he didn’t, Aiden. He wants me to leave.’ Edwina folded the newspaper. She couldn’t forgive any of it, their father’s hiding of his true worth, the slap to her face and the cutting down of their mother’s tree. The shooting was the final act. A curtain call. The property was her chance at a new life. ‘There is still the farm and the remaining shares. You and Father will survive quite handsomely. If he chooses to share any of it with you.’ It was enough. What was done could not be undone. ‘There is another option. You should come with me, Aiden,’ she offered. ‘Start afresh.’
‘I’m not like you, Edwina. I’ve never been very good with figures. Not the way you and Father are. And besides, if I went to Condo Station I’d be taking orders from you and we both know how long that would last before we eventually argued.’ He folded his hands in his lap. ‘I don’t agree with your leaving or the way you went about things and I worry about you out there all alone when –’
‘When I’m only a woman?’ completed Edwina.
Her brother reddened. ‘It’s best I stay here with Father. He and I are chalk and cheese. I do what he says and I’m happy with that. And he needs someone around. No matter what he thinks. He needs family.’
He’d matured overnight, they all had. Well, there were different degrees of level-headedness. Edwina and her father were yet to speak or eat at the same table since the night she’d been given the ultimatum.
‘Well, there’ll be no stopping Mrs Gloria Zane now.’ Edwina folded the newspaper. ‘You best get ready for her imminent arrival after I’m gone.’
‘Mrs Zane’s left Wywanna, Edwina, and Father doesn’t expect she’ll be back.’
‘What? When?’
Her brother shrugged. ‘A few weeks ago I think. Father told me about her when we went to his rooms in town to drop off some things. Well, he had to. The place is so gaudy. Hardly Father’s taste.’
Edwina pondered the divorcee’s departure, speculating on which party instigated the end of the affair. It was a sorry mess and knowledge of it stung.
‘No wonder he’s been in a bad mood.’ Aiden took the paper Edwina still held, turning to the third page. ‘This is the other thing I wanted you to see.’
Woman buys Queensland Station
‘That’s you, Edwina,’ Aiden tapped the paper, ‘you’re a headline. The paper is four days old but I saw Mrs Hilton in the Post Office and she’d heard from cousins down south that you made the papers in every state, including Tasmania. You know what she said to me? She said, “Aiden, you must be very proud and whoever would have thought that your father was so progressive.”’
They sat in stunned silence before bursting out in laughter.
‘I can’t believe it,
’ said Edwina, wiping her eyes.
‘Neither could I. Are you sure you want to do this, Edwina?’
Placing the Wywanna Chronicle aside, Edwina poured tea, her left arm in a sling. ‘Even if I wanted to stay it wouldn’t work. We both know that. Father and I are like a torn sheet of paper. He on one piece and I on the other. Too much has happened.’
‘You say that, but sometimes when I see you two talking it’s like a mirror image.’ Aiden reached for his teacup. ‘Do you hate Father now?’
‘No,’ she answered thoughtfully. ‘I’m disappointed mostly. I feel like I hardly know him. Anyway,’ she took a sip of the tea, ‘I wouldn’t have stayed here for much longer, even if the shooting hadn’t happened. But it did. And you should know, Aiden, that Father missed his target. He was trying to shoot Mason that morning.’
The cup and saucer Aiden held rattled. ‘He was what?’
‘Hate is a very dangerous thing.’
Aiden ran fingers through his hair. ‘I can’t believe it. I knew he was furious that day at Ridgeway Station. Father and our neighbour definitely didn’t get on. But shoot him?’
‘It wasn’t an accident, as Mason said. Father was shaking too much to aim straight and I ran forward at the wrong moment,’ Edwina said ruefully. ‘I keep asking myself what occurred to create such animosity,’ she added thoughtfully. ‘Not that we’ll probably ever hear about it.’
‘He blamed Ridgeway for the shooting. I know that much. It really makes the offer of the land or Ridgeway quite extraordinary.’
Edwina’s brow furrowed. ‘Why?’
Aiden rubbed at the fuzz that he was doing his best to coax into a moustache, much to their father’s dismay. ‘Ridgeway was here every day for eighteen days straight waiting for word of your recovery following the shooting.’ He glanced at his sister. ‘I’m sorry, I was sworn to secrecy. Anyway, Father ignored him. Even when things looked awfully grim he forbade anyone from speaking to him, but Ridgeway stood out there on the flat every morning for hours. Finally Father had enough. He said Ridgeway could visit you once only if he promised never to come here again. Then he gave you that choice. The land or Ridgeway.’
Edwina moved to the window, pulling aside the curtains drawn against the heat; outside, the country lay burnished brown. In the distance a cart held hessian bags of harvested wheat. One of the Chinamen was standing atop the dray, bending down to sew up the bags. Fourteen equally spaced stitches. It was the first year in Edwina’s memory that the task of closing the sacks had not been hers. The wind lifted the wheat chaff, blowing the itchy fragments towards the house.
‘It’s difficult to believe Mason stood out there waiting for word of my recovery,’ she finally replied. And yet he obviously had. He did care for her. Worried about her. Edwina drew the curtains closed and fronted her brother. ‘So Father’s intention was that I would lose both. I’d choose Mason, not knowing the bargain they’d struck. The problem is, Aiden, that when I last saw Mason he said he wouldn’t be coming here ever again. So you see, I never thought there was a choice to be made.’ She sat down, pouring more tea.
‘So Father was fooled by his own trick.’ Aiden leant forward in the horsehair chair. ‘I’m sorry, I should have supported you. I should have told you sooner. But if you’d known that Mason cared about you, that he’d agreed to Father’s condition just to see you one last time, would you have chosen differently?’
In the bottom of the cup the tea-leaves gradually settled. ‘That’s the problem, Aiden. I don’t know.’
Chapter Forty-six
A month later
The brown wagons came into view escorted by Han Lee and Davidson. Edwina observed their approach, a hand shading her face as the wind blew the dust from their wheels towards the house in low, prickly sheets. The compact Clydesdales pulling the wagons walked with a smart gait, their feet lifting neatly from the ground and placed well forward in their stride. The draughthorses were known for being strong and long lasting, Edwina was depending on that. Three weeks of travel lay ahead once they left the property, a staggered journey with extra stops planned, their speed dependent on Edwina’s health. Her body was slow to reach full recovery. A tiredness struck daily, demanding a midday sleep, and her appetite was limited. But leave they would in the morning, a useless left arm dangling painfully at her side, uncertainty a constant companion. On the verandah the shadow of her father disappeared through the front door with a slam.
Two of Han Lee’s men were the drivers and they steadied the eight horses drawing each van in their oriental tongue, the two wagons creaking to a halt at the edge of the gum trees bounding the homestead. Han Lee rode at the front, Davidson at the rear ensuring protection, the two men never riding side by side. Edwina wet her lips, tasting dirt and beads of perspiration. If there was a choice to stay at least for a few more months … but there wasn’t. It was time.
The distinctive wagons with their yellow undercarriages were fully loaded beneath arches of flapping canvas. Although she would make a show of inspecting the contents, with Han Lee in charge of the stores there was no better person to take delivery of the order. It took little conjuring to imagine the scene in Wywanna. The Chinaman and the aboriginal collecting the supplies ordered by the woman who’d purchased Condo Station. Edwina almost wished she’d been there.
Han Lee slid from his ride on her approach. Davidson watched them from a distance.
‘It is all here?’ asked Edwina.
‘I checked everything. Twice.’
She knew Han Lee would. ‘Good.’ Edwina examined the contents of each wagonload, waiting as he undid the folded canvas, allowing her to peer inside the dark interior. ‘Do you think we’ve forgotten anything?’
‘No, Miss Edwina. Everything is here. But you? I worry about the travel.’ He glanced at her arm, the waistband of the skirt hanging loose at the waist, clinched by a wide leather belt. ‘It will be rough. No number of blankets and cushions will stop the jolting. I still think it would be better to wait. At least another month.’
‘I know you mean well, Han Lee.’
‘You are a very stubborn woman,’ he commented.
She grinned in spite of the ordeal that lay ahead. ‘I know.’
‘There was a commotion in town. Once word got out that they were your supplies, a crowd gathered. Everyone wanted to see the woman who purchased the station. They were disappointed I think.’
Edwina would have shrugged were her shoulder capable of the movement. ‘There is not much to see.’
‘And your father,’ continued the Chinaman, ‘have you spoken with him yet? Have you made your peace with him?’
Edwina glanced towards the homestead. ‘Our peace comes with no words, Han Lee. My father is a complicated person. Perhaps I am as well,’ she added.
‘He is a hard man, Miss Edwina, but he does his best. We will unhitch the horses and stable them for the night.’ He gestured to the two drivers who began undoing the thick leather harnesses. ‘Daylight then?’
‘Yes, we leave at daylight.’
Davidson dismounted, observing the activity as if doubting the men’s ability.
‘I am to come with you, miss.’ Constance appeared from the kitchen, shooing the chickens yet to be penned for the evening.
Edwina tilted her head. ‘No, Constance, you have to stay here with my father and brother.’
‘No, miss. Mr Baker said I’m to come with you. He don’t want people thinking he sent you off with no-one to cook and clean and look after you. And she needs some looking-after she does,’ said the girl with a definitive nod to Han Lee, ‘she can’t cook.’
‘Is that what you want, Constance?’ asked Edwina kindly, choosing to ignore the jibe.
The girl sought Davidson’s approval. ‘I got myself in trouble here, Miss Edwina. Best I go with you and keep my nose clean.’
‘And what about you, Davidson?’ asked Edwina. She didn’t want Constance to have to defer to Davidson; however, they were married.
‘He agr
ees, Miss Edwina,’ the girl answered.
‘Can you find someone else to take her place, Davidson?’ Edwina would be grateful for the girl’s company. The arrival at their destination would truly see her entering a man’s world.
‘I can send one of my men?’ offered Han Lee.
‘There’ll be another girl here tonight,’ replied Constance. The girl flicked an awkward glance at Davidson, plying dirt between her toes. The aboriginal glowered as normal before taking Constance back to the kitchen.
‘The girl got in the family way with a white man, Miss Edwina,’ explained Han Lee. ‘Davidson was none too pleased and I think the person responsible paid a price.’
Edwina gasped. Could that man be Fernleigh or was her imagination running wild? ‘How do you know that?’
‘The notches on his forearm. We will see you in the morning, Miss Edwina.’ Han Lee bowed, moving to oversee the men as the white-patched horses with their thick manes and hair-covered hooves were led away.
Edwina wondered if the death of Fernleigh was marked by scarring and if there was one fresh notch on Davidson’s arm or two. If there was only one, she would know the truth of things – that Fernleigh had wronged her father as well as Davidson’s young wife. The stockman was clearly the vengeful sort; however, knowing he carried his kills with pride didn’t sit easily with her. Now, although shocked, Edwina could only be grateful that the stockman was on their side.
Alone, Edwina walked beyond the wagons, fixing on the gold-red horizon. Perspiration edged down her spine, stuck to the blouse, followed the curve of her thighs and legs. The nervousness was natural she supposed; nonetheless, the north-west track they were to take presented miles of unknown country stretching out towards the setting sun. Days of wearying travel would be interrupted by lonesome nights lying in a swag on the ground. And then at the end of the road, to greet her, a swatch of ground too large to comprehend. Hers to tend and make the most of. Edwina dearly hoped she was capable enough. For having dreamt a future into reality she’d stepped away from girlish fantasies and was about to embark on an expedition that was beyond adventure.
An Uncommon Woman Page 34
