by Amanda Deed
Jane’s eyes widened with concern and she studied every inflection in his face.
‘Not that I think there is a problem as such.’ Price released one hand and dragged it through his hair. He wasn’t making much sense. ‘As far as I am concerned a man is the head of his household and so I’ll go by his word, rather than your stepmother’s. Up until now, he has given his approval.’
‘Until now? Do you think he will change his mind?’ Colour drained from Jane’s face.
Price was not one hundred percent certain, but he didn’t want her to doubt, either. ‘I don’t see why he would. But I need to speak with him to make sure. It is one thing to go against your mother, but it is another matter entirely to defy your father—it would be very wrong.’ Even as the words left his lips, revelation came to Price. He’d defied his own father with his brash actions all those months ago. He made a mental note to reflect on that later.
Jane’s chin wobbled, her fear becoming more apparent. ‘But what if … what if he says no?’
Price cupped his hands around her cheeks and brushed his thumbs over her smooth skin. ‘Darling Jane, don’t you know how much I love you? I will do everything I can to win him over.’
With her chin tilted back, he saw her throat convulse as she swallowed hard. ‘Why? Why do you love me?’
Price grazed every inch of her face with his eyes, coming to rest on those perfect lips. ‘Must I have a reason? Who can say what draws two souls together? What I do know is that you are beautiful and clever and intriguing. That is enough for me.’
He traced his fingers along her jaw, yet again tempted to kiss her. Beyond what he managed to form into words, his feelings remained a wonderful mystery.
Price became aware that Miss Jane had taken hold of the lapels of his coat. But before he began to process what was happening, she pulled him toward her, pressing her mouth to his. Seconds ticked by before reality crashed in around him as Moses landed unexpectedly on his shoulder.
In surprise and shock, he pulled away from Miss Jane, his heart pounding in a wild dance. Price reached up to scratch the bird’s neck, though his mind was far away.
Miss Jane looked at him with wide-eyed wonder and pressed gloved fingers to her mouth. ‘I … I didn’t know it could be like that.’
Price didn’t trust himself to speak. He’d never discovered just how powerful a kiss could be, either. But what made her behave with recklessness and kiss him? It wasn’t flirtatious, he had seen that kind of behaviour many times before, and Miss Jane was a woman of strong morals. Why then would she be so forward? It baffled him.
In an effort to shut off the rampant emotion in his body and questions in his mind, he pulled his fob from his pocket and checked the time. ‘I’m going to be late to open the shop.’ He looked at Miss Jane apologetically, transferring Moses to her arm. ‘I’m sorry, but I must go.’
While the cockatoo climbed to her shoulder, she closed the distance between them again, grasping the lapels of his coat a second time. She looked up into his eyes with entreaty. ‘Before you go, Mr Moreland, tell me again.’
The nearness of her body to his made his head spin. But he dared not hold her or kiss her again. ‘I think it’s time you called me Price, my sweet Miss Jane. And what do you want me to tell you?’
‘Price.’ Miss Jane said, her voice filled with awe. ‘Tell me you love me.’
How was he not supposed to take her in his arms at a moment like this? But then, they stood on dangerous ground already. With great resolve, he held himself back. Instead, he prised her hands from his coat and pressed them to his lips. ‘With all my heart, Jane. I love you.’
19
Jane took her time walking back to the house, although she would suffer for it. She already imagined her mother and sisters demanding where she’d been and why she’d not laid out their clothes, or why she hadn’t found even one of Nancy’s countless misplaced items. But Jane wanted to live in the ecstasy of being in Price’s arms for as long as possible.
‘Price.’ She said his name over and over, enjoying the freedom and sense of intimacy it brought. Jane danced around in the early morning light, as though she were in his arms at a ball, swirling through the waltz. No matter that she wore an old, patched and faded dress, right now she felt like a queen. ‘He loves me. He loves me. He loves me.’
Moses screeched a response, flying in circles above her, dipping and soaring, picking up on her joyful mood no doubt. She laughed at his antics. ‘You dear old bird.’ Jane stretched out a hand and he came to her at once, whereupon she scratched his neck, stroking the soft feathers on his back.
The touch of Moses’s plumes reminded Jane that Aunt Ruby had said they would work on her mask again today. She had seen her aunt as she completed her early morning chores. Aunt Ruby did not seem as rosy as usual. Did her glum face have to do with the argument Jane heard in the distance last night?
Jane quickened her steps home. The sooner she worked through the rest of the work Mother had lined up for her, the sooner she could sit with Aunt Ruby and find out.
Several hours passed before she finally found the time. Starching and ironing took up most of her morning until, with an ache in the small of her back, she lowered herself at Aunt Ruby’s work table.
‘You seem rather cheerful today, Jane dear. I rather thought you’d be feeling a little flat after last night.’
Jane shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant. ‘Mr Moreland loves me. Why should I be upset?’
Aunt Ruby let out a heavy sigh. ‘If only my sister could be content with that.’
‘I heard you arguing with her.’ Jane fiddled with a spoon which lay on the table, and then the implications of her words hit her. Aunt Ruby might suspect she’d been eavesdropping, so she hastily explained, ‘I didn’t listen on purpose and I heard nothing specific. It’s just, the sound travelled to my room.’
‘Well, I’m sorry we disturbed you then, dear. You shouldn’t have to witness adults in conflict.’ Aunt Ruby sank into a chair nearby, handing Jane her work in progress. ‘Frances and I have always looked out for each other, but sometimes we don’t see eye to eye.’
Jane picked up her mask and examined it, deciding it was mostly finished. She only needed to attach gold ribbon to the corners to fix the mask to her head. ‘Was it about me?’
Aunt Ruby breathed out through her nose. Glancing at her, Jane suspected her aunt didn’t want to talk about it, or at least didn’t know how. ‘I don’t want to excuse her behaviour, but at the same time, my sister has had a difficult life.’
‘So have you.’ Jane remembered the day her aunt had shared her past.
‘Yes, but unfortunately she hasn’t found peace with hers.’ Aunt Ruby waved a hand in an exasperated gesture. ‘I know it’s wrong of her to behave so, but there’s not much I can do to convince her or change her mind.’
Jane swallowed. If Aunt Ruby gave up, what hope did she have? If Mother’s own sister held no influence over her, how did she expect Papa or Price to make an impact?
‘All we can do is pray God will have His way. Only He can soften her heart.’
To Jane, that sounded like a flimsy crutch on which to lean. How should God wish to be involved? She looked at her aunt. ‘How do you believe so strongly in Him, I mean, God?’
Aunt Ruby reached a hand across the table to squeeze hers, and offered a smile. ‘I have experienced the freedom from pain and anger that only He can give. If not for Christ, I would be in a worse state than Frances.’
Jane studied her face. She appeared genuine in what she believed. ‘It doesn’t hurt you to think about losing your parents and … everything that happened to you?’
‘No, my dear. A twinge of sadness perhaps, but nothing like the bitter anger and resentment I used to carry. Not even for being forced to have an “obstruction” removed from my womb which resulted in barrenness for the rest of my life.’
Jane’s mouth dropped open in horrified shock. ‘Obstruction? Do you mean a baby?’
Aunt Ruby nodded. ‘That is another circumstance Frances has never been able to accept. She sat by me when infection made me very ill after the surgery, fearing I would die. Frances has never forgiven the man who forced me to go through that procedure, even though I did long ago.’ She let out a sigh. ‘No matter what you see in her, or how badly she acts at times, she’s always stood by me.’
Jane found it hard to imagine any good in her stepmother. Oh, she put on a sweet smile and a generous act when she wanted to, but when no one stood nearby to impress, she was just plain mean.
‘You see, we’ve relied on each other since our parents died. We stuck together through the orphanage and bordello years, and then soon after I married my Dr Weaver, she married one of his colleagues and good friends, John Andrews. I can’t say they made a love match, not on her side of it anyway.
‘She soon delivered two healthy babes and then our husbands decided Australia held better opportunities for their careers and better futures for the children. Well, with nothing to hold me and Frances in England, that was that. But soon after landing in Melbourne, the men learned of a call for recruits to fight in New Zealand with the promise of land as reward. Our doctors settled us in a small hut, then went off to be medics in the army.’
‘The army?’ The news astounded Jane. ‘There is so much I don’t know about you. What did you do?’
Aunt Ruby took a deep breath and continued. ‘It was a worrisome time for us—two young women alone with two small children, waiting for our men to return. The hope of new and beautiful land kept us going, though. We waited for a letter telling us to board a ship to New Zealand to join them. Our hopes and dreams crashed once again when Roger returned to us alone, grief stricken with the terrible news of John’s death. Understandably, New Zealand acreage no longer held our interest.
‘Roger and I looked after Frances and the two girls as best we could after that. My Dr Weaver worked himself to the bone to support us and in the end the toll on him was too great. He collapsed in front of a patient one day and never recovered. They said he suffered a heart attack. Of course, I was inconsolable, but Frances panicked. How would we survive? Roger never managed to put enough aside to last us long. Within three years of coming to Australia, we had lost everything.’
Jane watched as her aunt swallowed hard, a few tears now spilling down her cheeks. It was such a sad story. Jane could find no words. She waited until her aunt gathered herself enough to continue.
‘That is when Frances met Seamus. Both perceived a need so great that they agreed to marry without considering the implications of a life-long commitment or even discussing it with anyone else. I first became aware of their plans when my sister asked me to attend the ceremony before the justice of the peace in two days time.
‘The reason I tell you this, is so you might understand a little of what my sister is underneath her bitterness. In part, she entered this marriage for my sake. It was one of the conditions she discussed with Seamus before she married him. And that, if you think about it, is rather self-sacrificing, don’t you think?’
Jane had no idea what to make of it. She found it hard to have pity on a woman who had shown her nothing but spite for years on end. Compassion and sympathy flowed unhindered for Aunt Ruby, though. She was a sweet, kind soul who didn’t deserve to have such hardships in her history. Come to think of it, I don’t deserve to suffer what I have, either. And that idea led to another. Did anybody deserve to suffer? Did suffering make men and women become bitter, mean characters? Or might the suffering mould one’s attitude into gentle graciousness toward others? Jane saw both products in her stepmother and aunt.
The question was which kind would she become? Would she end up mean-spirited as Mother? She didn’t want to feel this way, but the anger built every day. The more she tried to be good and nice and everything people expected, the more she suffocated on the inside. Aunt Ruby said the change only came from peace with God. And if true, it was a big change indeed.
Jane tied off the ribbon laces and set her mask aside. She looked at her aunt. ‘I don’t know what to think anymore. If you want me to feel merciful toward your sister, well, I doubt I can. If you want me to pray and learn more about God, then I promise to try.’
Aunt Ruby let out a long breath and her eyes filled with warmth. ‘And that, my dear girl, is enough for me.’
Price placed the letter he had just received and read on his lap, deep in contemplation. His minister friend from Wagga Wagga, Mr Carruthers, wrote him of current and exciting work taking place in that town. They had begun a series of special religious services, swathed in fervent prayer, in which the people of the church united and worked alongside him in his labours.
Just over a week of this campaign had passed and they’d seen abundant showers of blessing from above and marked increases in the services. Many seekers came forward, pleading with tears for salvation. In open-air services on the Wharf Reserve, they preached soul-stirring addresses, and many who had never even entered a church came to faith.
A yearning stirred within Price as he read Mr Carruthers accounts. Wasn’t this the exact vision he’d had for Hay? Wasn’t it what he came here to see happen? He must be doing something wrong here that meant he wasn’t bearing plentiful fruit. The more he considered it, the more he wanted to be part of a happening so grand. He wanted to see, to experience the hope and zeal amongst fellow parishioners.
As Price trimmed and shaved gentlemen that day, and through every dental examination, the hunger to be in Wagga Wagga—to see this sudden outpouring of grace—grew stronger.
One thing niggled at him, though. Jane. He promised her he would speak to her father. Two days had passed since their morning by the red gum and he had not yet found the time or opportunity to return to the farm. On one hand, Price worried over another encounter with Mrs O’Reilly. If he insisted on seeing Jane, would she insist he stopped reaching out to Orientals and natives? He did not want to find himself in that position again.
On another hand, the issue of Jane’s forwardness the other day remained fresh in his mind. Not that he didn’t enjoy being kissed. On the contrary, he couldn’t get the exquisite moment out of his head. But it shouldn’t have happened and Price had no idea how to handle that, except to pray for her.
With his hesitations to face either of those women at present, he considered delaying his visit until Tuesday, when Mrs O’Reilly would be safely out of the way once again. That would help him avoid one problem, but if he went to Wagga, it would be much longer than that until he saw either of them.
By Sunday, Price had convinced himself that the distance might be a good thing. His absence from town afforded time for the dust to settle—for Mrs O’Reilly to calm somewhat and maybe even forget her staunch opposition. And perhaps Jane might be able to focus on something else for a while. It would mean closing his store for an extended period, and that meant no income, a problem he’d never faced before. Price would have to be careful with his savings while away. He no longer had the freedom to do whatever he set his mind to, as he once did.
Price settled himself at his small desk and wrote a long apologetic letter to Jane, filling the page with many compliments on her sweet nature. He ended with several declarations of his affection and signed off with a promise of devotion while they were apart. As a post script he added an assurance he would write to her often.
At church that morning, he approached Old Darcy and Mrs Ferguson to hand her the letter.
‘I’m going to be out of town for a while.’
‘Out of town?’ Surprise widened the cook’s eyes.
‘If ya don’t mind me askin’, why go now?’ A concerned frown flashed across Old Darcy’s face.
‘Something special is happening in Wagga—a resurgence of spiritual fervour—something I’ve longed to see my whole life. I
simply must go and see it for myself.’
‘And what of Jane?’ Old Darcy challenged. ‘You do not intend to leave her high an’ dry after that fiasco early in the week, do ya?’
Price understood his worry, but the man didn’t realise he’d met with Jane the following morning. Even so, Price found it hard to make eye contact with the old man. ‘I’ve reassured Miss Jane that I will do everything in my power to win her mother over, and my letter explains my leaving. This way, there will be a few weeks for Mrs O’Reilly to settle down and adjust her position. Hopefully she will reconsider and when I return I will have a better chance of success.’
Mrs Ferguson shook her head as though in disbelief, but said nothing.
Old Darcy studied him for a time, then let out a tight breath. ‘Do ya love her, Mr Moreland?’
That was an easy question, although from anyone else it would be considered an imposition. Price grinned at them both. ‘With all my heart.’
‘Well, let’s hope that will be enough.’
Early the next morning, as he packed a bag with a spare change of clothes and a few necessities, Price reflected over Old Darcy’s words. Clearly they reckoned Price had a battle against him. And they didn’t approve of his taking a few weeks away from Hay, he could tell. Was Jane that fragile that they thought she would suffer terribly in his absence? His letter should be convincing, but would it be enough to carry through an interval of several weeks? If Mrs O’Reilly turned nasty on Jane, would his promises be enough for her to hang on to?
A twinge of guilt niggled in his gut. Lord, help Jane to lean on You in her hardship. Price would never suffice as her entire means of support and encouragement. No man could do that for another. Human nature delivered too many failings to be relied upon completely. Only God was the perfect source of strength—unfailing and unlimited.
As Price waited to board the mail coach to Wagga Wagga, Clark stopped by with his dray.
‘So, ya really are goin’?’
