She exhaled sharply. “I shall be a while now. You go back to our guests. I will be there as soon as I can.”
“Very well.” Relieved that all was settled, Charles let himself out into the courtyard and made his way towards the back door of the house. Footsteps crunched on the gravel path from the garden, and Charles turned, thinking one of his guests was outside. The smile dropped from his face.
“William Baker,” he snarled. “What are you doing here?”
“Your sister told me I might find you here.”
William came no closer, standing in the sunshine with his hat firmly on his head, shading his face, and his shirt so white it made Charles crinkle his eyes up to look at him.
“What do you want?”
“I see you have a big tank here, Charles. Still plenty of water in it for your family?”
“Enough.” Charles watched William take two steps forward so he was under the tin roof of the courtyard. “Why are you here?”
“I thought I’d return the favour you did for me.” William held up a calico bag, his hand gripping whatever was inside it.
“What game are you playing?”
William’s features hardened. “I don’t think it’s a game,” he growled and tugged a bottle from the bag.
Charles felt his knees weaken at the sight. He glanced in the direction of the big stone tank that collected all the water from the roof and was their household supply. “What have you done, Baker?”
“Given you a taste of your own medicine.” William waggled the bottle at him.
“You wouldn’t.” Charles gasped. He felt sick. “You haven’t.”
William’s face contorted into a malevolent grin. “Of course not. I’m not like you, Charles, but it was worth pretending — just to see the look on your face.” William jerked his head in the direction of the house. “Have you got the constable in there at your party? He should be interested in what you’re capable of.”
Charles watched William swagger three steps closer. The shock of seeing him with the poison had thrown him for a minute but now he regained his composure. “He is not, but perhaps I had better send for him.”
William raised his eyebrows.
“You’ve come to my house and threatened to poison our water supply.”
“In front of a witness.”
Charles turned at the sound of his father’s voice behind him.
Henry stepped closer. “How dare you, Baker, come here and threaten my family?”
“Your son poisoned the only water my stock had to drink. I’ve lost two beasts, maybe more.”
“Don’t listen to him, Father.” Charles was glad Henry had defended him. Sometimes of late it appeared they were on opposite sides. “Why would I poison the very water needed for my claim?”
“You can still use the water for your claim. It’s just not drinkable. Luckily you supplied your man with separate water.”
Charles jabbed his finger in the air in front of William’s nose. “Because your cattle were fouling it; that’s probably what killed them.”
William pushed the bottle close to Charles. “This is what killed them.”
“How would that get in the water?” Henry said. “You’re just like your father, always looking for something to blame for your ills other than your poor management.”
William was close enough for Charles to see a vein throbbing on his neck and anger deepening the red of his cheeks. He allowed his lips to turn up in a smile. “I can’t see how you can blame me. I have no access to poison.”
“You’re a liar and a murderer, Wiltshire.” William grabbed a handful of his jacket, but Charles shrugged him off.
“That is enough.” This time it was Edith’s sharp voice that surprised them. She carefully closed the door to the quarters behind her. “I have a sleeping baby here and guests inside.”
William stepped back and removed his hat. “My apologies, Mrs Wiltshire.”
Edith looked down her pointy nose at him. “I think you should leave.”
“I was about to.” He pushed his hat back on his head and glowered at Charles. “I am on my way to see the constable.”
Charles leaned forward. He would have liked to have had a swing at Baker but his father put a hand on his arm.
“Let him go, Charles. He can’t prove something that didn’t happen.” His father gave him a thoughtful look. “Can he?”
Charles glared as Baker turned and walked away around the building. “Of course not.” He shook his head, glad he hadn’t told his father everything about his recent trip to the claim.
“My goodness that man is so aggressive. Are you all right, Charles?” Edith crossed the courtyard and patted his necktie into place.
“Of course.” Charles didn’t think there was any proof he had administered the poison. He’d been careful not to let Barnes see him. It was unfortunate Baker had found the bottle though. “Baker could make such a fuss that the constable might feel he should investigate, that’s all. Then I will be obliged to answer questions. It is not good for our reputation, even if there is no substance to Baker’s story.”
“We will deal with that if it happens,” Henry said.
“He can try to see the constable but he’ll be waiting a while.” Edith had a smug look on her face. “I invited Constable Brown to the christening, but he has been called away to Hergott Springs. That’s a long journey north. I don’t imagine he’ll be back for a week, could be two or three. Mr Baker will run out of huff and puff before that.”
“I do wonder if it’s not time to let that claim go,” Henry said. “In these times we should be tightening our belts.”
“I agree with your father, Charles.” Edith nodded and Charles noted the stunned look on his father’s face.
“We will discuss it later,” Charles said. It was unlike Henry and Edith to agree but he was sure he could convince them to keep up the search for diamonds, just as he was sure the elusive rocks would soon be found.
Charles patted the hand Edith slipped through his arm and he was pleased to see his father take the other hand she offered. They made a good team, the Wiltshires.
“Let’s return to our guests,” Edith said and propelled them forward.
William couldn’t believe what he was reading. The sign on the police-station door said the officer was away for possibly a month and any urgent business would have to be taken up with the police at Quorn. He shook his head. The next nearest policeman had been at Cradock but that office was permanently closed now, and he certainly wasn’t going to ride to Quorn. The bottle of poison was still clutched firmly in his hand, but he had nowhere to go with it. He paced the path in front of the station. Charles Wiltshire always wormed his way out of danger. William stopped as he noticed a couple watching him. Had he been muttering out loud? He dipped his hat and they continued on their way.
At least there was one thing Wiltshire had missed out on. William’s love for Georgina and hers for him had ruined any plans for a Prosser — Wiltshire dynasty. Thinking of his wife softened William’s anger. She would be worried about him by now. Joseph would be back at Smith’s Ridge, telling them all that had happened. And she would be watching for William’s return.
He retraced his steps to his horse and led him back along the road towards the shop that had replaced Garrat’s. ‘Best Fit in Town’ was sure to have something for him to take home as a gift for Georgina — then his trip to Hawker wouldn’t have been a total waste of time.
The next morning he was on his way early after a restless night in his swag. Except for the yellow where the sun was rising, the cloudless blue sky was edged in every direction with a soft pink. Birds chattered around him in the trees. He was following the track along a dry creek bed dotted with the brown and white trunks of the gum trees, their foliage varying in colour from dusty green to silvery grey, affording him some shade. Beneath Big Red’s hooves the crisp and brittle leaves and bark crunched with every step, and ahead of him in the east, the hills and ridges of Smith�
��s Ridge glowed orange and brown.
His land was in the grip of a drought being felt across the new nation of Australia. The newspaper he had purchased in Hawker had been dismal reading, but he had brought it with him for the others to peruse anyway, and after that it would make a good lining for drawers, or shoes with holes, or gaps in windows.
He pulled Big Red up at the first glimpse of the house. There would be a barrage of questions and he wasn’t looking forward to telling them he had failed to bring Charles Wiltshire to justice. With a heavy heart William squeezed his legs and his faithful horse continued on. He hoped Georgina wouldn’t think him silly, but he hadn’t known what to choose in Mr Collins’s shop. He had finally decided on a length of emerald green ribbon. It was velvet ribbon this time, and he hoped she would find some useful purpose for it.
Forty-eight
May 1903
Georgina cast her gaze to the dark clouds on the western horizon then back to the track to her front door. The trees close to the house were tossing in the gusting wind and the temperature had dropped. The end of autumn had brought them bitterly cold weather but no rain. She pulled her shawl closer.
There had been no wind and no grey clouds when William had set off in the cart at first light to collect Johanna from Prosser’s Run. Georgina was hanging out the washing when she had noticed the sky was turning a murky grey, clouds were banking to the west and a stiff breeze made the bedsheets flap on the line. By mid-afternoon it had been a struggle to bring them in again and the strengthening wind was full of dust. She’d shut up the chickens and brought the horses into the yard close to the house.
Now she let herself back inside and added more wood to the fire in the front room and the one in the kitchen. She checked the shepherd’s pie then glanced around her tidy kitchen. There was nothing more to be done until they arrived.
Unable to settle, she moved through the house once more, glancing into each room. This would be the first time her mother would visit her at Smith’s Ridge. Now the bad weather added to her unrest. She wished she hadn’t admitted to William she was with child again; then she would have ridden with him to collect her mother. Instead he had insisted she stay home. She had only told him about the baby the day before because she knew he would see her rounded stomach for himself soon enough. This baby was well past the time she had lost the first and she allowed herself to breathe and to imagine it would grow strong and be born safely.
At least now William knew she could also tell her mother and Jessie and Clem when they returned from checking the cattle and taking supplies to Albie. In the room she had prepared for her mother Georgina tugged at a corner of the quilt and ran her hand over it, smoothing away imaginary wrinkles. She hoped Johanna would be comfortable.
Her mother’s message, brought by one of the Prosser’s Run shepherds, had frightened her. Johanna had been weakened by a bout of coughing sickness and must have been feeling terrible indeed to send for her daughter. Georgina had wanted to jump on her horse and ride straight over but William had stopped her. He had insisted they look after her mother at Smith’s Ridge where he could keep an eye on both of them.
In their bedroom she smiled at the hat she had decorated with the beautiful velvet ribbon from Hawker. It was a wide straw hat, very plain, and the ribbon brightened it considerably. Over a month had passed since William’s angry dash to make a report to the police about the poisoning of their cattle. He had returned annoyed and a little embarrassed that he had been unable to expose Charles Wiltshire’s treachery.
She startled at a loud clatter on the roof: probably a branch from a tree. From the bedroom window she could see the wind was much stronger. Fear wormed inside her and then a rush of relief replaced it as she saw their horse and cart emerge from the trees and career towards the back of the house.
Georgina hurried outside. Her mother was wrapped like a parcel in blankets perched on the seat next to William.
He slid down from the cart and gripped Georgina’s arms. “We must get her inside quickly. We’re in for a big storm. I hope Clem has found somewhere safe for Jessie and the children.”
Georgina glanced west, where the sky was now black. A flash lightened the dark and then was gone. She hurried around to where William was lifting Johanna down.
“I’ll carry her,” he said.
“You will not,” came a muffled response. “You have enough to do. Georgina will get me inside.”
Georgina put an arm around her mother. William hesitated a moment, watching them.
“You go.” Georgina had to shout against the noise of the wind.
He turned quickly and led the horse and cart away while she guided her mother inside. The first rumble of thunder echoed in the distance as she closed the back door on the storm.
Johanna shrugged out of all but one of the blankets, and coughed several times then looked around. “The last time I was here was not a very happy day. Sad that William lost his mother so young.”
“That was a long time ago, Mother.” Georgina drew out a chair. She was shaken by her mother’s frail appearance. Johanna appeared to have withered even since Georgina had visited her last. “Sit here by the fire. I wish I’d known earlier you were so unwell. How have you managed on your own?”
“Swan sent one of the shepherds to stay back at the homestead. He was a reasonable cook and made a good cup of tea.” Johanna looked pointedly at the pot on the table and began to cough again.
Georgina took the steaming kettle from the stove and made the tea while her mother regained her breath.
“A hawker came by a few weeks ago,” Johanna said. “I made him afternoon tea and bought some gloves from him. Poor man had a terrible cough. I am sure that’s how I came to get it.”
Georgina poured the tea. Wind howled around the house and another growl of thunder rumbled closer. She glanced to the window where darkness had come early, and hoped William would be back inside soon.
“I do pray this storm isn’t an empty promise.” Johanna gripped her cup in two hands.
“Thank goodness you’re here with us, Mother.”
“I wouldn’t have been, only William said you were not well yourself and he had to bring me here so he could look after us both.” Johanna’s steady gaze locked on Georgina. “You look well enough to me.”
“William is being a little … over protective.” Georgina smiled. “I am with child.”
Johanna put down her cup and reached across the table for Georgina’s hands. “That is wonderful news.” She started to cough again.
A clatter sounded from overhead and grew louder. They both looked up.
“Rain,” Georgina said. She held her breath waiting for the sound to fade as it so often had in the last few years, but instead the sound grew heavier and settled to a steady thrumming on the roof.
The back door slammed open, making both women jump.
“Sorry.” William heaved the door shut against the wind. When he turned back he was drenched but his face was lit with a huge smile.
It rained steadily for two days. Several pots had to be deployed to catch drops from leaks they didn’t know they had. The creeks roared to life and the ground, parched for so long, soaked in the water and became sodden. By the second day the paths to the chicken house and milking shed were indistinguishable from the rest of the yard. It was a slippery walk and William worried about Georgina maintaining her balance and holding the bucket of milk. With little else to do until the rain stopped he went with her.
“I hope Jessie and the children are all right,” she said as she tried to find the best place to scatter the scraps for the chickens.
William turned his face to the sky. The rain had eased momentarily but they could see there was more coming. “There’s a creek between us and them and with this much water and the earth baked so hard there’s bound to be water flowing everywhere. He couldn’t risk trying to come home. I’m guessing he’s teamed up with Albie, who knows those hills well. I’m sure they’ll be safe.” He wond
ered briefly about Barnes at the claim and hoped the man had had the good sense to seek higher ground.
“I’m glad you got Mother here in time,” Georgina said. “Being housebound has given us plenty of time to talk.”
William turned back from the cow he was tethering. Every night Georgina would tell him about her attempts to get her mother to stay with them. He was not so keen on the idea but kept his own counsel on that.
“Mother has decided she wants to move in to Hawker. She’s not going to sell Prosser’s Run. Oh William, I’m so relieved. I’m sure she will pass it on to us eventually.” She put a hand to her stomach. “For our child.”
“Is she leaving Swan in charge?”
“Yes, but she wants him to confer with us.” Georgina’s eyes sparkled. “We will be the managers on Mother’s behalf.”
“We have our work cut out here at Smith’s Ridge.”
“I know, but we can get more help. Now that we’ve had good rain we can restock. Mother has been very thrifty, and so have you. We’ve money between us to make this land prosper again.”
“Georgina Baker, you are a task master.”
She reached out a hand to him. “You want this too, William. We both love this country.”
He took her hand then pulled her into his arms. Over her shoulder he took in the grey day as another shower clattered on the tin roof of the cowshed. “It will be a challenge,” he murmured into her soft curls. But one he would readily accept.
The rain continued on and off for over a week until finally they awoke one morning to weak sunshine. The small torrent that had forged its way across the space between their house and Clem’s cottage had reduced to a trickle and the roar of water in the creek below the house had eased. William rode out from the homestead finding new waterways cut into the earth, rushing and carrying everything in their path from small branches to giant logs. He delighted in the fresh smell of the earth and bush and the sight of the deeper green of the leaves washed clean of years of dust. He visited the most likely place for Clem to cross back over the creek but there was no sign of him.
Jewel In the North Page 40
