Fiona met her at the door of the homestead, her face wreathed in smiles. “Did you get a job?”
“Yes, I think we're going to make it.” Jo did a little jig. “Anyway, you seem pleased with yourself”.
“I've done something really clever.”
“What did you do?” Jo grinned. “Invent ways for our supplies to stretch longer?”
“No, I made some scented soap.”
“What!”
“I shredded some of our ordinary soap and melted it on the stove, then added a few drops of lavender oil. I molded them into beautiful shapes too.”
“You wasted our soap? How could you?”
Fiona’s face fell and tears sprung to her eyes. “I'm sorry. I thought it would be nice for us to have a little luxury after all the terrible things that have happened to us.”
“Oh, it's all right, I'm being a pig.” How could a grown woman have so little comprehension of their dire position?
“Don’t go over to that place to work,” Fiona wailed. “Please, I hate being on my own. What will I do without you?”
“I have to go.” She hardened her heart against Fiona’s distress. “There’s no alternative. We’ve got no money left. We’ll starve if I don’t.” If she wasn’t so desperate, no power on earth would make her risk her reputation like this.
The sleeping arrangements bothered her. Hopefully by the time the men came in at night they would be so dead tired, all they would want to do was eat, tell a few yarns around the fire, then crawl into their blankets.
Chapter Seven
When the men retuned to camp in the evening, Jo sent up a heartfelt prayer of thanks. They obviously slept in their clothes. She wrinkled her nose at the rank body odor, stale tobacco and sweat.
She edged away and laid out her blanket a little distance from the others. It felt cold and lonely being away from the warmth and comforting glow of the fire, but she dared not risk being in the light in case her long hair somehow escaped from its tightly bound ribbon. When it actually came down to it, she couldn’t bring herself to cut it, as her father always called it her crowning glory. She kept her hat on at all times. If the men thought it strange that the cook worked and ate with his hat on, they made no comment. They hadn’t seen through her disguise, because their lurid stories were peppered with vulgar oaths she had never even heard of before.
After the men left camp next morning, she washed at the creek. They didn’t mind being smelly, but she did. What a rough scary existence. What would happen if her gender was discovered? Goose bumps pebbled her arms. Luke Campton would be the least of her problems. She could not be sure if or when a fatal mistake would end her charade. Like having an axe poised above one’s head, knowing full well it could fall at any time. The ramifications terrified her, but she was desperate for money to keep the farm afloat and put food on their table.
Luck remained with her as the men came back to camp only for their meals and smoko breaks, which meant little interchange between them. At afternoon smoko on the third day, after making the tea, she knelt in the lean-to debating about what to make for their evening meal when the men's voices floated into her.
“But, boss, we got us a cook now,” said Jack. “A good lad he is, too.”
“I do the hiring around here, and I've brought you a cook.”
Jo's legs trembled. Shock squeezed the air from her lungs and her heart slammed against her rib cage. Luke!
“Where is this boy? If he can ride, he can stay. An extra hand never goes astray.”
“Jo, Jo, where are you?” Jack raised his voice.
The axe was poised ready to fall. She stood up and ducked out of the lean-to. “I'm here, Jack.”
Luke had his back to her, but he swung around immediately.
“You!” His eyes darkened with fury, a pulse throbbed in his jaw. He stood stiff legged, rigid. The anger bouncing off him in gigantic waves almost flattened her, but she would die before letting it show.
“Yes,” she answered defiantly. “Me, Mr. Big Boss Man.”
A gasp of shock rippled through the men, one or two of them gave embarrassed coughs, a couple of them laughed.
“You're fired.”
“But, boss,” Jack said
“So, he's a good lad is he? I ought to fire you too, Jones.”
One yank brought her up hard against Luke, another yank disposed of her hat and her hair tumbled out of its thong and cascaded over her shoulders.
“It's a woman,” Jack exclaimed.
The stunned expressions on the men's faces would have amused Jo if her situation hadn’t been so diabolical.
“Yes, Jo's a woman.”
And what a woman. Luke tried not to stare. Her magnificent hair looked as if the rays of the sun had somehow been trapped amongst the wild curls. A man could drown in those luminous moss green eyes. He was acting like a lovesick fool and he hated himself for it. Lust, he kept telling himself, only lust. Oh God, the feel of her soft body against his hardness. The creamy whiteness of skin, so flawless he longed to caress it, and those perfect lips, made for kissing. She drove him to the brink of madness. And this vulnerability infuriated him.
“It wasn't their fault, you arrogant beast.” She angled her head away from him, but her body remained seared to his, her breasts flattened against the hard wall of his chest. “I was desperate. Thanks to you, Fiona and I are on the verge of starvation.”
“Have your break and get back to work.” Luke dismissed the men with a curt nod. “As for you, Miss Saunders, I suggest you pack up your gear and get out.”
“What about my pay? I've worked hard for two days.” She tried to pull away from him, but he held her in a vice-like grip.
“I didn't hire you, so I don't pay you.” He dropped his hands and stepped back a pace.
“You, you, unspeakable...” She lashed out at his leg with one booted foot. “I want my money. I earned it and I want it.”
“Too bad, and by the way.” He gave what he hoped was a predatory grin. “I never did like sweaty women.”
She turned to gather up her things.
“Jo,” he said softly, lacing his voice with menace.
She spun around.
“You better get home quickly and help your sister-in-law. She defaulted on the mortgage, so I’ve taken it over, and what's left on my property tomorrow gets burnt.” It was an idle threat. He couldn’t bring himself to leave a mother and child destitute and homeless, but Jo didn’t know that. He wanted her to think of him as an unscrupulous, hard hearted bastard.
“You wouldn't. What about my little niece? Fiona's going to have another baby. No man could be so cruel.”
“I can.”
He knew hell would freeze over before Jo pleaded for herself. And he admired her guts and determination. If only it was focused on someone else and not him.
“Please, have you no pity?”
“No.”
“Please, Luke.”
She sounded so desperate he almost capitulated. A few nights in his bed and she would be out of his system for good. He would be back in control of his emotions once his lust was sated, would be safe from letting a woman gain the power over him that would ultimately lead him on a path to ruin. He didn’t want to turn out like his father, destroyed in body and mind and almost bankrupted, because he had ignored his own advice, and given his heart to a woman.
“They don't have to go. I told you before I can be generous to a woman who pleases me. I would be willing to forget all about the mortgage. The place would be your sister-in-law’s free and clear. The only stipulation I would make is if the drought continues, you leave the dam I built in place. I need the water. I’ll make arrangements with the general store for supplies to be sent out to them. It's up to you, Jo. Their future is in your hands.”
“What exactly do you want?”
He lowered his gaze so she wouldn’t see the triumph in his eyes. Their plight must be more desperate than he realized. “Come and stay with me.”
&nb
sp; “H…How long?” Shock darkened her eyes to an even deeper, more beautiful green than normal and he felt like drowning in them.
“For as long as it takes.” Even as he gave a triumphant smile, heat rushed to his groin.
“What!”
His teeth snapped together. “I want you, Yankee woman. God knows why but I do. I don't have much staying power with women, they quickly bore me.”
“Then?”
He stared at her through narrowed eyes, while he sought an answer. He hadn’t really thought that far ahead, getting her into his bed quickly had been his overriding motive.
“When you, um, get bored with me, I'm free to go?”
“Yes.”
“What about the farm?”
“It will belong to your sister-in-law free and clear, that won't change.”
“No? How can I trust you?”
“I may have many faults, but breaking my word is not one of them.”
“All right, you've won.” Jo’s head drooped, her shoulders slumped and all the life drained out of her, leaving her as empty as an upturned cup.
“You might not find it so bad,” he said softly. “In fact…”
“I'll hate every minute of it.” Her hands bunched into fists.
“I very much doubt that.” His laugh mocked her. “Tomorrow after lunch someone will come over to collect you. In case you change your mind, he'll be instructed to bring you to me, or evict everyone in the homestead.”
Without another word, she saddled her horse. And barely hanging on to her last remaining remnants of pride, she mounted and rode straight past him as if he did not exist.
All the way home she berated the hand of fate. Her whole life would be ruined. If she let Fiona, little Lucy and this unborn baby be thrown out into the street, she would never be able to live with herself again. Luke was an intelligent man and she had never had any time for stupid men. He was ruggedly handsome, so physically she would not find him abhorrent. Emotionally she would be scarred, but she might eventually get over it, if no-one ever found out.
“God help me, please. If ever I need help, it's now. Help me find a way out of this diabolical mess.”
A little voice from deep inside kept whispering. “If you went back to the city, you would be safe.” Yes, she could disappear into the crowds, even return to California so Luke would never find her. She hated herself for even contemplating such a thing. It came down to this: sacrifice her body for the wellbeing of her loved ones, the only close family she had left. She had no choice. By the time she arrived home, her mood turned into one of bitter resignation.
Ashen-faced, Fiona rushed out to meet her. “Jo! Jo! The bank’s sold our mortgage, we’re going to be evicted. Where can we go?”
“I've seen Luke Campton. Don't worry, you can stay here. He'll pay the mortgage out so the farm will be yours.”
“Really? That’s nice of him.” Fiona gave a huge sigh of relief. “Oh thank goodness there are still some decent people left in the world.” She clapped her hands. “We’re saved.”
Feeling about a hundred years old, Jo climbed down from the horse. As if suddenly realizing all was not well, Fiona peered into Jo's ravaged face.
“What happened? Why are you here?”
“Campton sacked me. Wouldn't even pay me for the work I did, said as he didn't hire me, he owed me nothing.”
Fiona patted the horse's head. “You said he would pay out the mortgage. Um, Jo,” her voice trailed away. “You didn't agree to go over to him, tell me you didn't.”
“What else could I do?”
“You can't!” Fiona shrieked. “We'll be ruined!”
“If I don't we starve to death. Not much of a choice, is it? I'm hungry, what's for tea?” What a lie, she wouldn’t care if she never ate again.
“Lucy's eaten. I made a stew, one of the Kirkman boys brought over a rabbit. I can heat it up.”
She glanced at Fiona. Always finely built and delicate, she looked almost ethereal now, because she hadn’t been eating properly.
“We can share it.”
They traipsed into the homestead. Jo couldn’t be bothered about cleaning up, just washed her hands and face. Later she would heat some water for a bath. It was tempting to present herself to Luke in a filthy, disheveled state, yet pride forbade it.
The stew tasted good, with pieces of carrot and potato floating around in thick gravy. “Where did you get the vegetables from?”
“Kirkmans gave me a few. I hated taking their charity, they're barely surviving themselves, but I did it for Lucy's sake.”
“Of course you did,” she soothed. If only Fiona and Ian had planned things better, there would have been enough supplies to tide them over for a time, at least.
“You aren't really thinking of going over there?” Fiona sounded almost pleading.
Jo spluttered into her food. “Yes, I'm going. Not only did he promise to give you the farm free and clear, but supplies will be sent out regularly from the store.”
“I can't let you do it. Ian would turn over in his grave.”
“Do you think he'd rest easily knowing his wife and child were homeless, starving? He entrusted you to me and I won't let him down, no matter what I have to do.” She licked suddenly dry lips. “Tell me, what's it like when a man, well you know, takes a woman?”
“It can be beautiful.” Love shone from Fiona’s eyes.
“You loved Ian. It's different for me. Please, isn't there anything you can tell me? Granny Kirkman said it was so terrible you never forget it.” She clutched Fiona's hand.
“I'm sorry. I don't know what to say. Don't fight him. It will only inflame him more. He's not a callow youth, he's an experienced man.”
“God only knows how many mistresses he's had,” Jo retorted.
“You shouldn't speak so coarsely, you sound like a street woman.”
That's exactly what I'll be when he finishes with me. Bitter bile rose up into her throat. She dared not speak the words out loud as Fiona verged on collapse, with not one vestige of color left in her gaunt face.
“Why don't you go to bed,” Jo said. “You’re exhausted. I'll clean up here.”
“Lucy and I will never forget what we owe you. Somehow we'll make it up to you.”
“Thanks, you don't owe me anything. Only one person owes me, and I'll make him pay some day. That's a promise.”
***
Next morning after packing her trunk, Jo trailed around the property. It slumbered tranquilly in the early morning light and she inhaled the perfume of fresh clean air.
Birds, foraging for breakfast in the gum trees, squawked loudly as she wandered down to the creek. It barely trickled along now, but what did it matter? There were no crops left and only a few animals.
The bitterness of defeat all but engulfed her. Even at this late stage she tried to rally herself. “Be proud. Don't let him know what his victory cost,” she muttered over and over. Pride would be the only thing standing between her and absolute degradation.
She stretched out on the warm earth, resting her face on folded arms.
“Jo,” Fiona's cry jerked her awake. “Someone's here to collect you.”
The time for reprieve had run out. Slowly, she raised herself from the ground, brushing at the leaves and pieces of grass attaching themselves to her clothes. On leaden feet, she dragged herself to the homestead. Fiona stood with lowered head as she clutched Lucy's hand.
The man from Kangaroo Gully appeared middle-aged and heavily whiskered. As they exchanged a brief greeting, she caught a glimpse of something akin to pity, before he inclined his head.
“Are you ready, Miss?”
“Yes.” She fiddled with the ties on her bonnet. Her hair hung loose about her shoulders as she hadn’t bothered to put it up. It had taken all the strength she possessed to put on a decent gown.
“Don't do it,” Fiona beseeched.
“I have to.” She kissed her sister-in-law’s ice cold cheek. “Be a good girl for your mama, Luc
y.” She gave the child a hug. “I'll be over as soon as I can. We might as well go, mustn't keep the big boss waiting.”
The man made no comment as he helped her up on to the front seat of an expensive, well sprung buggy, and fetched her trunk. All too soon she started her journey to perdition. She waved to the figures on the verandah until they became tiny specks in the distance.
“What's your name?” she asked the man.
“Tom.”
She wondered if he knew the reason for her going to Kangaroo Gully. Would Luke have boasted about it? The thought made her cringe.
“The little Carson twins haven't stopped talking about their time at your school,” Tom volunteered.
“They were sweet little girls. Do you know their parents well?”
“Jack works with me. Don't know the wife, keeps mainly to herself.”
“What kind of boss is Campton?”
He hesitated. “Hard but fair, if you don't cross him.”
“What happens if anyone crosses him?”
“He breaks them.”
They lapsed into silence. There was simply nothing left to say, but a dozen questions buzzed around inside her head. What kind of lover was he? How long would it take before he tired of her? How would she feel afterwards? What if someone in town found out?
Kangaroo Gully rested, mellow and peaceful in the afternoon sun. Although there were signs of movement in the distant stockyards, nothing stirred around the homestead. They stopped outside a side entrance archway that was formed by a rose-covered trellis.
The housekeeper met them on the side verandah. “I'm Mrs. Osborne.” Her smile appeared genuinely warm. “Come this way. You'll be in the master suite. This will be your private verandah. It has glass doors opening off your sitting room. That will be all, Tom. Put the trunk on to the verandah before you go. One of the maids can bring it in.”
“Goodbye, Tom, thank you,” Jo called out.
“My pleasure, Miss.” He touched his hat. She followed Mrs. Osborne inside.
Beautiful, solid cedar furniture filled a small sitting room. The walls, painted pale apple green, complemented the ceiling roses and ornate cornices that were a shade or two darker in color.
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