Danny whimpered, tears making tracks on his dirt- and soot-stained face.
Caleb laid Danny’s hand on the boy’s chest. ‘You hold it right there. Don’t move it. You’ve been very brave, Dan.’
‘I feel sick,’ Danny said.
They carefully rolled him onto his left side and the child was ill, drawing his knees up to his chest. It seemed he’d eaten little all day, and there was not much to throw up.
Adelaide drew the boy’s head onto her lap and propped herself up against a rock. Danny had begun to shiver, despite the heat. Probably a mingling of shock and poison, Caleb thought. He took off his waistcoat and laid it over the boy.
‘How did you know what to do?’ Adelaide asked, her voice rasping with the smoke. ‘Are there snakes in Virginia?’
‘Some, but not real poisonous like these ones. Worst ones I came across were rattlers.’ Caleb ran a hand through his hair. ‘Truth is, before I came here I knew nothing about snake bites, but Bowen left books with detailed notes on treatments he tried.’ He shrugged. ‘If it’s any consolation, it’s only a single strike and it’s not deep, more like a scratch. Some poison got in but, God willing, it won’t kill him. Now I’m going to try something else. Something the Aborigines used to do. You’re going to have to help me, Adelaide.
‘Whatever you need,’ she said.
The rough dam constructed by the miners as a water race had long since been reduced to rubble in the winter floods, but it created a spot where the water ran at a faster pace than the sluggish late summer flow. Caleb gathered Danny in his arms and carried him over to the gentle fall of water, laying him on the sandy river bed to allow the water to flow over him.
Adelaide stood on the bank. ‘What are you doing?’
‘The natives used water immersion to deal with snake bite. I need you to support him, Adelaide. Danny?’
The boy’s eyes fluttered open, unfocused and pain filled. ‘My head hurts,’ he mumbled.’
‘You just lie there. The water will keep you nice and cool.’
Adelaide pulled off her boots and stockings and rolled up her trousers, exposing an expanse of calf and well-turned ankle. She picked her way across the rocks and sat down on a relatively dry rock with Danny’s head in her lap.
The boy’s teeth chattered but Caleb took that as a good sign. If the boy’s body temperature could be kept cool, it would slow the poison racing through his system.
Caleb straightened and looked around at the devastated bush. Here and there the scrub still burned and the blackened, smoking gums were stark against a lowering sky. Ash and burning leaves and embers drifted to the ground and the acrid smell of death and destruction hung in the air. For a moment he wondered how many of the wild creatures had escaped such an inferno. He could hardly blame the snake for striking out at Danny. Fire, more than any of the elements, was feared by all creatures great and small.
He splashed across to the far side of the river and started to climb the bank.
‘Where are you going?’ Adelaide called.
‘I’m just going to the top of the ridge to see if I can make out what the fire is doing. I’ll come back, I promise, but if I think the way to Maiden’s Creek is clear, I’ll go for help.’
‘How long do we have to stay in the water?’
Caleb returned to them, squatted down and checked Danny’s pulse. It raced and despite the cold water, the skin on the boy’s wrist was hot to the touch.
‘The water’s the best place for him.’
As he stood up, Adelaide caught his hand. ‘Don’t leave us.’
He bent and kissed her ash-smudged forehead. ‘I won’t be long.’
With the urgency of the moment passed, Caleb realised how tired he was. He made his way downstream to the place where the Aberfeldy Road crossed the river and trudged up the steep track, contemplating the distance they needed to cover to reach the town.
Annoyingly, the crest of the ridge proved false and he trudged up to a second crest. It afforded no view except an expanse of burning and burned-out bushland so he walked on a bit further.
Rounding a bend, he bent over, catching his breath and with it, the smell of something else: roast meat. He’d already seen the carcasses of wallabies and wombats but this was stronger and, with an urgency to his step, he broke into a trot. Around another corner, he found the large, blackened carcass of what he assumed to be a horse blocking the track. Fighting back nausea and regret, he approached the frightful sight, hoping it was not Shadow.
But there was no way of telling whose horse it had been. If it had been wearing saddle and harness, they had gone, only the bright metal of the fittings, scoured by the blasting heat, glinted from the ash in the late afternoon sun.
Caleb put his hands on his hips and considered the beast. Too large to have been the pony or Adelaide’s mare, he concluded. It was either Shadow or Barnwell’s horse. If it were the latter it begged the question of whether Mr Barnwell himself had escaped the conflagration that engulfed his horse.
He passed the animal and walked on up the track. He didn’t have to go far.
A body lay curled on its right side, almost unidentifiable as once being human, arms over its head in a pitiful attempt to stave off the firestorm that had engulfed it. Gleaming teeth grinned from the blackened skull in a hideous rictus of a smile. It could only be Barnwell.
Caleb whipped the hat from his head as he looked down at the remains of a man who only a few hours before had been living. A horrible way to die and a fate which could so easily have befallen himself and his companions. He clapped his hat back on his head. Barnwell would have to wait. Caleb’s concern was with the living, not the dead.
He found a vantage point further on, still too far away to see Maiden’s Creek, but he could see the fire front moving relentlessly in the direction of the town, driven on by the strong northerly wind, dashing any hope of getting through to the town.
He turned and looked back in the direction of the river and wondered if they may be better served by going north to Aberfeldy … if Aberfeldy still existed.
Thirty-Five
Despite the blasting heat borne on the northerly wind, Adelaide shivered. The cold from the mountain water had begun to seep into her bones. In her arms, Danny alternately sweated and shivered, crying out in pain or struggling to get up. The cold fear that gripped her heart had nothing to do with the water. There could be no life without Danny. Tears dripped off the end of her nose as she stroked her son’s clammy forehead and prayed. But here, trapped in this unrecognisable landscape, God seemed to have entirely forsaken them.
The red, angry sun, previously visible behind scudding black clouds, had sunk beneath the ridge line, casting the valley in shadow before Caleb returned.
‘Sorry,’ he said as he splashed through the water towards them, ‘I had to go further than I intended.’ He crouched down, checking Danny’s pulse and lifting the boy’s eyelids.
Adelaide’s hand tightened on her son’s. ‘He may be in the water, but he’s sweating,’ she said.
‘That’s good. He needs to sweat the venom out.’
Adelaide shivered. ‘I’ve lost the feeling in my toes.’
Caleb scooped a handful of water, dousing his face and head. He slicked back his hair and looked up at the sky. ‘It’ll be dark in an hour or two and the fire’s still between us and town.’ He glanced up the northerly track. ‘How far to Aberfeldy?’
Adelaide shook her head. ‘At least twenty miles.’
Caleb grimaced. ‘Too far to carry the boy. We’ll have to wait here until we can get through to the town.’ He stood up. ‘I’ll see to clearing out that mine adit so at least we’ll have some shelter for the night.’
‘Watch out for snakes,’ Adelaide said.
He gave her a sharp, half-amused smile and sloshed through the water to the far bank.
Adelaide’s stomach rumbled and she realised it had been close to twelve hours since she had eaten. ‘I am trying not to think about the food Nett
y packed for us,’ she said.
‘Your son has some food in his satchel,’ Caleb said.
As he worked to clear the shelter for them, Adelaide continued her vigil. She noticed something change in the atmosphere, a sudden stillness descending on the river valley in the last of the light. Adelaide looked up at the skeletal trees and frowned.
‘The wind’s dropped,’ she said.
Even as she spoke the wind turned, a southeasterly that ruffled Caleb’s hair, bringing with it a sudden and dramatic drop in the temperature.
Caleb straightened, a rock in his hand and looked around at the now silent bushland. ‘That’s a good thing, isn’t it? It’ll turn the fire back from Maiden’s Creek.’
Their eyes locked in mutual horror. The wind would bring the fire back in their direction. Neither of them could bring themselves to put that fear into words. Caleb swore and threw the rock hard into the river.
‘Let’s get you out of the water and into shelter,’ he said.
He lifted Danny out of the water, hefting him into his arms. The boy hung limp as Caleb carried him across the pebble-strewn watercourse and laid him on the still warm sand in front of the old adit. Adelaide followed, dripping water. She sat down beside her son, shivering as the wind cut through her wet clothes. She pulled her stockings and boots back on and turned her attention back to Danny.
Danny’s eyelids flickered but she saw no recognition in the bright feverish depths and once again the fear she could lose him tore at her. She turned her head away, hoping Caleb didn’t notice the tears that ran down her face.
‘Watch for spiders too,’ Adelaide said as Caleb returned to the task of clearing the adit. ‘We’re not the only animals looking for shelter from the fire. They can kill too.’
He sat back on his heels. ‘Snakes and spiders? What in God’s name brought me to this benighted country?’
She tilted her head to one side. ‘I don’t know. What did bring you?’
She couldn’t see his face but his shoulders tensed beneath the filthy shirt.
‘Do you really want to know?’ he asked quietly.
‘Yes. If we’re going to be honest with each other. You know my dreadful secret, it’s only fair I should know yours.’
For a long moment he said nothing. ‘Very well,’ he said at last. ‘I killed a man.’
The words hung between them.
‘You were a soldier …’ she began.
He turned to look at her, his face twisted into something between a grimace and smile. ‘It was nothing to do with the war.’
‘Are you going to tell me about it?’
He tossed the rock he held away and sat down beside her on the sand, his legs drawn up, his forearms resting on his knees. ‘I drifted west after the war,’ he said. ‘Took whatever work I could find. I was working on a ranch outside San Francisco and life wasn’t too bad. The work was physical but I relished it. Fixing fences and branding cattle was a relief after what I’d been through. I didn’t have responsibility for anyone else’s life.’
‘There was a woman?’ Adelaide said.
He paused. ‘Maria.’
‘Did you love her?’
He glanced at her. ‘Love is a strong word, Adelaide.’ He picked up a stick and began tracing patterns in the sand. ‘No, I didn’t love her, but I was fond of her and she seemed to return the feelings. For a little while, she kept me from my demons.’
He fell silent, the only sounds the rasp of the stick in the sand and the crash of falling timber as the burned trees surrendered their limbs to the freshening wind.
‘Maria died. An earthquake, not even a big one, but the walls of our cabin caved in on her. I tried to save her but …’ He held up his hands as if seeing them for the first time. ‘No skill I possessed could do anything.’
The wind picked up the ash and smouldering embers from the opposite slope and sent them skittering across the river, bringing with it smoke and the roar of approaching flames.
‘The fire’s turned. We need to get into the shelter,’ he said, rising to his feet.
Adelaide shivered, wrapping her arms around her damp shirt. The clothes that had seemed so heavy in the heat of the day now seemed inadequate. With the exception of Caleb’s waistcoat, neither of them wore any clothing that could be spared to make the boy more comfortable. She knew the fickle nature of the weather and never left home unprepared for the worst but in her haste to leave, she had left behind the heavy woollen jacket she always carried strapped to her mare when she came out bush.
Caleb rose to his feet and leaned both hands against the lintel in the adit’s entrance. ‘It goes back a fair way. We should be safe enough but I just need to make sure there are no more unwelcome lodgers.’
He found a sturdy branch with leaves still attached and set it alight using the embers from a smouldering tree. Using the branch as a torch, he ducked into the adit, sweeping it from right to left. The light faded from Adelaide’s view as he progressed.
When he came out, the branch had burned down to a stub.
‘It’s clear and dry,’ he said. ‘Let’s get Danny inside and see what he brought with him to eat. I’ve had nothing since last night.’
They lay Danny on the uneven floor of the cavern and Caleb rifled through the satchel. He handed Adelaide the carefully wrapped food parcel and continued his exploration. He gave a snort of laughter. ‘A candle and tinder,’ he said. ‘The boy thought of everything.’
Adelaide unwrapped the bread and cheese and they shared some of it, leaving a few morsels for the morning.
Food has an uncanny way of making everything seem better, Adelaide thought as she raised Danny’s head to give him the last of the water in the flask, settling him into the shelter using Caleb’s once colourful waistcoat as a pillow.
Danny moaned and curled into a ball. ‘My stomach hurts.’
Caleb put his hand to the boy’s sweat-streaked forehead. ‘The poison’s working through you,’ he said.
‘Make it better,’ Danny whimpered.
‘Nothing I can do till we get you back to your own bed, Danny. I’m sorry.’
‘I’ll refill the water bottle,’ Adelaide said.
It gave her something to do. Sitting and watching her possibly dying child was more than she could bear. She filled the flask from the place where the water ran through the dam then stood watching the far bank. The gloom of the evening had been overlaid with something more sinister. Above the ridge, plumes of smoke rose up into a dark sky as the stiff southerly wind sent embers ahead of the returning fire front.
A hand rested on her shoulder and she looked up at Caleb’s grim face.
‘I didn’t want to say anything in front of the boy,’ he said. ‘Barnwell’s dead.’
It took a moment for Adelaide to comprehend what he was saying. ‘Dead?’
‘I found his body on the track about two miles from here. Looks like he got caught by the fire.’
Adelaide’s stomach clenched. ‘Oh, Caleb, what an awful way to die.’
Caleb’s silence did not refute her comment.
He folded her in his arms and she buried her face against his hard chest.
‘I didn’t want him to die, just to go and leave us alone,’ she murmured, her voice muffled by his shirt, and her grief.
Caleb’s hand cradled the back of her neck and his lips brushed her hair. ‘If it’s any consolation, the smoke probably took him before the flames,’ he said.
‘That’s no consolation.’ She twisted around. The southerly had stiffened, sending rolls of smoke over the ridge. ‘The smoke …’ Her eyes stung and tendrils of the vile vapour caught at the back of her throat making her cough.
She glanced at their rough shelter. ‘It’s going to blow in on us. We’re sitting in a death trap.’
Caleb’s silence confirmed her fears. The flames may not kill them, the smoke would—he had just said as much. The river wouldn’t save them this time.
‘Surely, if the fire is turning back on itself
, it will burn out?’ Adelaide said.
Caleb shook his head. ‘We can hope but it won’t if there is enough unburned fuel around us to keep it going.’
‘It’s going to rain,’ she said, her voice rising in panic. ‘It always does. I know this country. I know the weather.’
‘We can only hope,’ Caleb said and added, ‘and pray.’
‘Mama!’ Danny’s cry cut Adelaide to the core. What choice did they have—except prayer.
Smoke had already begun to fill the cave as she hurried back inside. The candle Caleb had left burning cast a ghastly shadow around the space.
Danny rolled onto his side, curled up in a tight ball, screaming.
‘He’s in pain,’ Adelaide sobbed. ‘Do something!’
But she knew there was nothing Caleb could do. She pulled her son into her arms, holding him to her and rocking him as she had done when he was a baby. But the travails of sore teeth were nothing compared to the agues that now racked his limbs. Her tears, unchecked now, fell on her son’s damp hair.
Caleb could only watch in utter helplessness as Danny writhed and convulsed in his mother’s arms.
If the child died …
He closed his eyes and steadied his breath. Danny had become as much a part of his life as his mother and if Caleb lost Danny, he would lose Adelaide. He realised that whatever happened, he could not lose Adelaide. She had become his rock, his sanity, his reason for living. She had dragged him out of the cold, meaningless vortex into which he had fallen.
Outside, the roar and crash of the returning fire came closer and, despite Caleb’s efforts to cover the mouth of the adit and keep back the smoke, it rolled over the ridge from the approaching blaze into the cavern, creeping in through the gaps in the rocks that he had stacked against the entrance. He sank back against the wall, his hand across his mouth to try and lessen the effect of the smoke but his eyes watered and he coughed. Across from him, Adelaide wept and cooed and rocked her child. Like him, she coughed, turning her face away from the insidious smoke.
‘It’s getting thicker,’ she said, between breaths. ‘Caleb …’
The Postmistress Page 29
