She would have liked to have seen Will one last time. To at least say goodbye. If he did return as promised he would find her long gone and wonder at her leaving. He’d wanted her to wait for him. No, expected her to was more correct. Like Mason, he’d been pushy, demanding, and yet Edwina had seriously considered his offer. It was a means to an end. An opportunity. She thought of him now, with his green eyes and broad smile. The way he’d stride through the orchard seeking her out, his cheekiness the morning she’d cut his hair and the kiss they’d shared. Her first. Had Will come back sooner, she may well have gone with him. But Will was yet to return, if ever, and she was leaving, so she would never know what may have happened between them.
Everything Edwina knew was here on this patch of earth. This irregular box bordered by water and pear and wire fences. A barely sustainable piece of dirt still carrying the voice of her mother, the scampering footsteps of her and Aiden as children and a father she loved but had never truly known. Edwina would never completely leave this land. She had risen from it, been moulded by its big sky and changeable seasons. The property had made her strong. Edwina knelt down, scraping at the baked dirt, cupping the hard-won soil before throwing it into the wind.
Chapter Forty-seven
It was done. Edwina was soon to leave. Outside sat the sturdy drover’s wagons filled with stores for a new beginning. By this time tomorrow Caroline’s daughter, his eldest, the little girl he’d once bounced on a knee would be gone. Hamilton poured rum into a tumbler, skolling the contents. On the study desk sat a plate of barely touched food, the kerosene lantern turning the meat and cabbage yellow in the half-light. It was not the night for eating. It was a night for drinking. The alcohol eased the aches that rippled down the left side of his body. Niggling twinges that came and went, a constant reminder of that dusty ride back from Wywanna and a brain that refused to reveal the faceless attacker. Would that he were young again, with the lean figure of youth and the intellect of remembering. Someone wished him ill-will but if it had been Fernleigh the man was gone now. Dead and buried.
The air was hot, draping the body with its heavy breath. Christmas would be upon them in a couple of weeks and still no rain. No summer storm to settle the dust or delay the morning’s travel. The New Year could not come quickly enough for Hamilton. Months of losses lay in the dregs of this one: Gloria, his failure to do business with Peter Worth and the stock market crash. He’d considered doing himself in. A few were. Had the numbers of victims been greater the decision may have even been considered in fashion in view of the circumstances, but it was the Americans who appeared keen to step off the ledges of high-rises. Out here a fall from the homestead roof was useless.
Hamilton poured more rum, gumming the rim of the glass as he sucked up the dark fluid. There were positives. The heathen Fernleigh was dead, undoubtedly the past catching up with him, and there was still money left. A few shekels to keep the dingoes at bay. Enough for a monthly visit to Wywanna and an opportunity to make use of the rooms he rented. Aiden was old enough to accompany him on these outings now and with Gloria gone he’d be pleased for the company. Come April with the hope of cooler weather, the boy would be ripe for a bit of promenading down the main street. There’d be a bright, young thing wanting to catch his eye. A pretty, long-legged filly eager for that first kiss and the promise it would bring. A farmer’s daughter, one of the smaller landowners, would have to suffice. Sensible and thrifty with just enough prettiness to capture a boy’s interest.
Prior to the crash Hamilton’s ambition was much higher. The money so carefully secreted away, most of that wealth, was to have been Aiden’s. Not for his only son the shoddy beginnings he’d contended with. Shielding Aiden from the muck of life was one of Hamilton’s great purposes in living. He knew what his boy was and wasn’t capable of. Out of everyone in the family he was the least competent when it came to survival. It wasn’t the lad’s fault. The boy was a descendant of gentlemen. Of English estates and docile domestics. Of hunts and London mansions. There was blue blood in Aiden’s veins, however much diluted over the generations, and it was natural once Hamilton breached God’s gates, Aiden would need help. A manager to assist in running their holding, perhaps an accountant to check ledgers on a weekly basis, to ensure the finances remained sound. Such things cost money, as did a wife. He needed the boy to survive and comfortably, for Aiden was his only son and he carried the Baker name, offering another chance of recapturing past glories.
Hamilton licked at the empty glass. Difficulties lay ahead, for the residue, the backstop, the monies from Ridgeway’s debt that would have gone some way to cushioning the future were now spent on a piece of dirt. And there was nothing he could do about it. What had his mother said, his stubborn streak would be the death of him? Still, there was enough coin remaining to ensure a comfortable future.
Hamilton studied the map of Condo Station with its river frontage, massive paddocks and grassy plains. The middle of nowhere, that’s where it was. He scratched at a stubbly cheek, deliberating once again the true worth of the enterprise. Common sense advised not to go near the place. Especially now with the papers talking of a depression. If cattle were bringing a pittance a month ago, they would be close to worthless now. Didn’t the girl know that?
Edwina was not one to embark lightly on anything and there was a grit within her now that baulked at failure. It had been in her since childhood, along with that determined mouth. Trapped by a wily daughter, Hamilton took some time to swallow the cud of anger and view the matter coherently. Were Luke Gordon not championing her, Hamilton may well have gone back on his word, reckoning on Edwina quickly going bust, but with Gordon’s involvement, how did a businessman ignore the possibilities that could come of such an association? And if Edwina succeeded, if she did well …
Hamilton pushed the decanter of rum aside. There’d been too much drink, too much wallowing. Finally clarity was restored. He’d been blind to the prospects of such a partnership. Much could be gained by the relationship. The eligible sons of the landed would be queuing for Edwina’s hand now. For his girl offered what every pastoralist wanted of a daughter-in-law: land and beauty. Hamilton comprehended that despite his misgivings he couldn’t have done things better if he’d planned this himself.
In a few months, six at least, for Edwina needed to be faced with the loneliness and difficulties associated with her decision, he and Aiden would visit Condo Station. It was, after all, important for a father to check on the welfare of his only daughter, offer assistance if required and ensure that those male of the species who were undoubtedly sniffing around were sorted through and dispatched as necessary. And the sheep? The proceeds from his small mob born of a nucleus of Ridgeway merino blood would be a fine wedding present. He would sell them in a month or so, as the rightful owner wasn’t interested. Yes, it was going to be a very busy year.
Carrying the plate from the desk, Hamilton leant down awkwardly, depositing it on the rug. He’d put an end to Davidson’s feeding of the animal a month ago and now enjoyed the fruits of having taken the task upon himself. Tapping the boards he sat back and waited. Sometimes it took hours, tonight minutes only. The cub jumped up on the windowsill. Perched there, the animal’s ears pricked as if judging the safety of the room, then he sprang down to the floor, padding quietly across to the dish of food. The lion ate hungrily. The creature wasn’t always fed such a plentiful dinner and he didn’t necessarily return every night. Since that first day of convalescence when Hamilton dragged his body into the parlour, the animal was an infrequent visitor. The cub was canny, bypassing Davidson’s attempts at capture, only appearing when Hamilton was alone, quick to depart at anyone’s approach. Never to be seen if the dogs were unchained, but happy to roll about with old Jed on the parlour floor. Arriving to stalk back and forth when Hamilton quietly read, or preen itself on one of the chairs, the baby lion became something of a companion, the feeding of it a natural extension.
‘So then, little one, you and I are ra
re creatures I think.’
The big cat, having finished the meal, sat back on its haunches. It was a lean animal now, having grown in the last few weeks. Hamilton noted the muscular thighs, the extent of the paws indicating future size. Visions of a fully grown lion sprawled on the dining-room floor next to his feet came to him and Hamilton chuckled at the whimsical thought. If Gloria were here she would laugh with delight at his eccentricity.
The lion yawned, stretching out on the rug. Hamilton approached the animal carefully. Kneeling on creaking knees, he reached out a hand, gently stroking the soft furry ears. He would miss his new friend. There was something about this exotic cat. The way it rubbed against his legs. Depended on him for food. Came and went silently as if knowing when its presence was required. But like all young things, maturity would be quick to come and Hamilton guessed the lion cub, like Edwina, could turn on him in the future.
The leather dog collar fitted the cub perfectly. The animal scratched at the choker, rolling around the room in an effort to dislodge it. Hamilton shut the window amid the animal’s antics. All that was needed was a length of rope to secure the creature.
‘I doubt my makings as a father.’ Hamilton watched as the cub eventually tired and rubbed at its face with its paws. ‘And as you are an orphan, my boy, I think it best that we find you a new home. And I have just the person to take on that responsibility.’
Chapter Forty-eight
Aiden and Davidson carried the trunk out of the room into the scant pre-dawn light. Edwina watched it go; enclosed within were all her belongings. The lantern emitted a dismal glow highlighting a mantelpiece empty of photographs, a bed stripped bare and the dressing table, already dusty. Even the netting above the bed was removed, folded and packed for the journey west. The bedroom that had been her sanctuary over many years now resembled a shell of ageing, cracked timber and an uneven floor. Still, it was hard to leave behind. To know not another morning could be spent gazing out through the orchard to a new day or that sleep would not be accompanied by a swathe of stars and the sprinkle of leaves on the roof. The choice was made but, at this very moment, Edwina found it hard to justify.
‘Edwina?’
A figure stood in the doorway. She peered at the outline, lifting the lantern. ‘Heavens, Will, is that you?’
He was a shadow in the gloom. ‘Yes.’ He moved towards the light.
‘Will, I never expected to see you again. What are you doing here?’ There was a strangeness about him; he swayed slightly, smelling of sweat.
‘I said I’d come back, walked most of the night from Wywanna I did. Just to see you, to make sure it was true.’ He turned on a heel, noting the empty spaces. ‘It is true then. I see you chose not to wait.’
The tone of his voice was unsettling and he was clearly exhausted. ‘Will, I don’t know what to say. So much has changed since you left.’
‘Obviously.’
Edwina walked towards him. ‘Will,’ she said softly. At another time she would have told him how good it was to see him, that he’d been missed, she may have even rushed to his embrace. ‘Please don’t be angry.’ She touched his arm. ‘I never expected you to return.’
‘Really? But I said I would,’ argued Will. ‘It’s not three months since I left.’
‘I know, Will, but –’
‘But nothing. You let me kiss you.’
‘And you left me with a lion,’ Edwina countered, unwilling to discuss their shared intimacy.
‘So that’s why you’re doing this?’ replied Will. ‘Because of the cub?’
‘Of course not, but it was wrong of you to leave it here.’
‘Is it still safe?’
‘Yes. We’ve been trying to trap it. It escaped.’
‘And then what?’ asked Will.
‘Then it has to be returned to the circus. It’s a danger to everybody.’ Edwina sighed. ‘What on earth did you think you were going to do with it?’
‘I don’t know. I thought we would have worked something out. Guess it doesn’t matter much now.’ He stared at her.
‘Don’t say that, Will, please. I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.’
‘From what I hear, you have it all planned out.’
‘Then you know that I’m leaving this morning. Heading west to another property.’ Outside the sky was brightening. She turned the knob on the lamp and it flickered out.
‘Yes.’ He stood in the middle of the doorway, rolling a cigarette. A slight beard gave him a rough appearance. ‘It’s all anyone’s talking about in Wywanna. Oh yes, I have ears. They say you’re a mighty lady now with thousands of acres and the Gordons themselves giving you a helping hand. So I know why you don’t want me anymore. Better offer, eh?’
‘No, Will, please don’t say that.’
The cigarette flicked between his fingers, still unlit. ‘It’s the truth though, isn’t it?’
‘Will, this isn’t just about you.’
‘Explain to me then, Edwina, why you’re doing this? Why you didn’t wait?’
She walked across the bare room. Having bought Condo Station, a relationship with Will was now the very last thing on her mind. And there were good reasons why she was able to close the door on the short part of her life he’d shared, ones that went beyond the acquisition of property to the very heart of who she was as a person. It was only fair that she try to explain to Will the reasons why their relationship would never work. ‘You told me that you would come back for me, you didn’t ask.’
‘What?’ Will appeared bewildered.
‘You didn’t ask me, Will,’ repeated Edwina. ‘You never once questioned me about what I wanted to do, how I wanted to live my life. You just assumed that what you wanted was what I wanted.’
‘Wasn’t it?’
Edwina didn’t answer; surely he understood what she was saying.
‘You’d be with me,’ said Will.
‘Will, all of my life men have been telling me what to do. I can’t live that way anymore. I need to be my own person.’
‘We’d be together,’ argued Will.
‘And how did you think that was going to work?’ asked Edwina.
‘I’d have a job. So would you. I don’t understand what you’re talking about.’
‘And how would we live? In a hut? With our days spent working for somebody else? And me cleaning and cooking in my little spare time?’
‘We’d be together,’ persisted Will more stubbornly.
‘Will, how do I make you understand that it’s not enough? It wouldn’t be enough for me. I want more out of life.’
‘You didn’t before.’
‘How do you know?’ She lowered her voice. ‘You never asked.’
Will lit the cigarette and took a deep puff. ‘You’re worried about money, but we’d make do. Plenty of folk –’
‘Will, you’re not listening to me. I don’t want that life. It’s not enough for me. Not now. Not after everything that’s occurred.’
‘And what has been going on? As I’ve walked all night to see you,’ stated Will, ‘you could at least tell me.’
‘Okay. Things happened,’ Edwina began slowly. ‘Father was attacked on the road back from Wywanna, I was accidentally shot.’
‘I heard that too. Heard you nearly died.’ He drew heavily on the cigarette. ‘You remember, don’t you, what I said about your father? The papers said it was an accident. Was it an accident or did he mean to shoot you, Edwina? You can tell me. I’d understand.’
How could he understand? Even she didn’t understand the complicated relationship with her father.
‘There’s bad people in the world and just because they’re blood kin doesn’t mean they can’t do harm. I saw the way he treated you. Saw that mighty bruise on your face. And I was worried after I left that he’d hurt you; that’s why I followed him that day.’
Edwina grew nervous. ‘Followed him what day, Will?’
He drew on the cigarette. ‘Coming back from Wywanna.’ The exhaled smoke
spiralled from his nose and mouth. ‘Took an age he did to leave town: first he was at that place he kept for his lover, then at the Post Office. The old man was dead drunk. Could barely walk up the main street. Of course that was the day you made front page news for stealing the lion cub.’
‘You stole the cub, Will, not me.’
Will ignored this. ‘I’d planned on getting to him before he reached the bridge, but there were folks around. I was just going to talk to him, give him a piece of my mind and tell him to leave you alone. Then he caught up with some drovers and spent a time chatting to them. It turned into a long afternoon.’
Edwina took a step away from him. ‘It was you who attacked Father?’ How was this possible when Fernleigh was dead?
‘Gave him what he gave you, I did. A punch to the face. It’s against everything I believe in, but he’d hurt you and I wanted to hurt him back, Edwina. I’d done it once before, when my own father bashed my mother, when I was old enough. But I never expected your father to have a turn. No, I never wanted that to happen.’
‘Oh, my God.’ Edwina lifted a hand to her mouth.
‘Your father never saw me coming. I was tired and hungry. I’d waited for hours and I rode straight up and clobbered him one. He fell hard. Like a sack of potatoes. I thought about staying to see if he was alright, but I was so angry at the way he’d treated you, Edwina. I did it for you.’
The bedsprings creaked as Edwina sat on the edge. ‘Oh, Will.’
An Uncommon Woman Page 35
