The Great Plains

by Nicole Alexander

  Chapter 50

  September, 1935 – on the banks of the Condamine River, Southern Queensland

  Abelena edged the black stallion down the banks of the river. It was cool in the shade of the great trees and she slipped from the animal, tethering the horse to a low-lying branch. Removing her shoes at the water’s edge, she splashed her face clean, her bare foot treading on something sharp-edged submerged beneath the water. Her hand moved crab-like across the sand until the object was found, a half-shell. Such food had been served aboard the great ship the first night they were aboard, clams and oysters, fish and crab. Abelena studied the pale shell and then, wading into the brown swirl, began to dig in the muddy bottom. Her skirt grew sodden as she worked, her arms ached. She dug and prodded and scraped as she searched the shallows until three river mussels sat at the tide line. It wasn’t much but she’d existed on far less in the past.

  She built a fire close to the river’s edge and, when there were embers for cooking, sat the shells on the glowing coals. Sitting cross-legged on the cool sand, Abelena watched as the mussels slowly turned a grey-black from the heat then she flicked the shells free of the campfire and quickly doused the flames with handfuls of water. Her efforts left a thin white trail of smoke that quickly dissipated as she pushed the blackened bits of wood into the river and then piled sandy mud on the tell-tale spot. The mussels she carried to a tree root where, with the aid of a branch, she bashed at the shells until the creamy insides were revealed. She picked away dirt and shell and bits of bark and plucked the innards clean. They tasted briny and strange, not at all like what she expected.

  It was two nights since her leaving. On finding the door to her bedroom unlocked, Abelena had simply gathered her few belongings, found a horse in the stables and ridden away. It had not been her intention to be gone for so long. She simply wanted to show Tobias that she was not his to control, that she would come and go as she pleased while she formulated a plan. But this initial journey had become an exploratory trip and the longer she wandered about this land with its big sky and never-ending plains, the more attune she became with the new surroundings. She wanted to see and smell what this land was like. She wanted to be immersed in the depth and breadth of the animals and plants, to learn what the earth could provide. In knowledge of her surroundings lay survival, a chance for a life beyond the Wades with their confused notions of salvation and their tendency to quickly discard the unwanted.

  The tree-edged waterway was her destination and she’d been exploring its surrounds ever since. But of course she should have known that Tobias Wade couldn’t leave her alone and so in defiance Abelena stayed away, would have run away forever, but there was no revenge in that, at least not yet.

  The first night the search parties traversed the open plains. The next day they combed the river flats, the men’s strange accents filtering through the air as they called her name. They hunted for her in circles, crisscrossing the flat country with its treeless horizon, then they returned to the winding river and retraced their steps. They looked for clues in broken branches, crushed twigs and leaves, no doubt expecting footprints, but Abelena left nothing behind. She’d crossed two-thirds of Oklahoma on foot – she knew how to conceal a trail. The men rested in the heat of the day while she rested. They moved and she moved. When they lit campfires she did the same, burying the charred remains in river sand. When they headed towards her she walked the horse into the river and together they swam upstream. They were a noisy lot. It was no great task to keep ahead of them.

  This morning Abelena watched their careful wanderings while hidden in the trees, amused when a scraggly bearded stockman ordered the men to turn back, convinced that no girl would ride so far in a strange land. So they turned from the river and spread out to ride across the open plains, leaving Abelena to the strange land, which was now familiar. There were snakes and spiders, wild dogs and pigs, just like Oklahoma. Dazzling coloured birds twitted prettily, giant lizards climbed trees for safety and spiky creatures could be rolled onto their backs with a stick.

  Tonight she would once again sleep by the river, watching and listening as the creatures gathered along its banks. The kangaroos and wallabies entranced her, as did the great flightless birds.

  ‘You should go back. This is not your land.’

  Abelena looked across the water to where a young black man stood. He was clothed as a white and for a brief period she guessed the man was a Negro until she noticed his facial features. He was born of this land, not hers. She rose carefully, rubbing her sticky hands clean with a fistful of sand.

  ‘This is the land of my people. The spirits do not welcome you.’

  There was a strength in the boy’s voice, a knowing. ‘And yet I have eaten of this place and slept in its arms and have come to no harm,’ she replied.

  ‘You should leave,’ the youth repeated. ‘You bring trouble to this place, a power greater than you.’

  Abelena had no idea what the boy spoke of.

  ‘You will be found eventually.’

  ‘Not if I don’t wish to be found,’ she called back across the water.

  ‘No-one can hide forever. Besides, you’re a girl.’

  ‘And you are a scared boy. Go away.’ Walking back to the fire Abelena took a bunch of dried sage from her belongings and began to chant. She shook the sage strongly, concealing the trembling in her fingers, aware of a dryness at the back of her throat, of the hair on her arms standing erect. Across the water the boy stood and watched. Abelena sang louder, her voice echoing across the water. She gathered a handful of dirt and let it slowly run through her fingers as her mind grew blank. There was a smell of smoke and sage, of white men and horse sweat, the far bank blurred, the boy was gone. It felt as if her eyes were sliding backwards into her head and she fell to the ground, sicking up the mussels in a spray of vomit that left her feeling weak and sick. Dazed, she wiped her chin. Where had the song come from that she’d chanted? She’d not heard Uncle George sing it before.

  ‘Well, what have we here?’

  Abelena startled at the male voice and, running towards the river, splashed into the water. A rope pinned her arms neatly, pulling her backwards into the current. Wes Kirkland laughed and then told her to stand and be quick about it. She struggled to her feet.

  ‘Shrewd little piece, aren’t you?’ Wes commented. ‘You wouldn’t know this, Abelena, but I spent many a year tracking the lowlife of Oklahoma with Sheriff Cadell. I believe you’re acquainted with him?’

  She spat into the dirt.

  ‘Just when a person thinks they’re safe is usually when they get caught. In your case, though, it’s a touch more interesting. The Injun in you made you hard to find, but it was the Injun in you that also gave you away. Nice song.’

  ‘Get this rope off me! When Tobias finds out –’

  ‘And here I was thinking that you couldn’t string a sentence together. As for Tobias, do you really think he’d listen to you? Personally, I think Edmund Wade had the right idea with that electric shock treatment. Yes, sir, in fact I would have flicked the switch myself.’ He gave the rope a harsh tug. Abelena fell face down in the water. ‘Get up.’

  With difficulty Abelena got to her knees and then her feet.

  ‘Now this is what’s going to happen. You’re going to walk behind me for a couple of miles or more. That way by the time I let you back on that horse you stole you’ll be good and quiet and grateful. Do you understand?’

  ‘My shoes.’ She pointed to where they lay.

  Wes seemed to give consideration to the request. ‘Nope. We’ll say you lost your shoes crossing the river. By the time you get up on that horse again you won’t be running away any time soon.’

  ‘Let me get my things.’

  Wes tethered the stolen horse to his, told his mount to get a move on and horse and rider walked up the bank and into the trees, dragging the girl behind.

  Abelena screamed and begged for her belongings, for the bag with its herbs and the piece of
precious hide. She looked over her shoulder through the trees as the timber closed in and the waterway disappeared from view. It was gone. Left to the bush. The history of the Apache people. The only thing remaining was the izze-kloth around her neck.

  The search parties rode in, one by one. Will watched them from the top of the windmill where he was trying to grease the mechanism that squeaked and groaned day and night. Having complained of the noise, Mr Wade had ordered the problem fixed and with all able-bodied men involved in the search, it had fallen to Will to repair it. He quite liked being on top of the world. The country fanned out in all directions and, had the structure been a few feet higher, Will believed it may well have been possible to see the village. It was from this vantage point that he first saw three groups of men galloping cross-country towards two riders who were coming from the direction of the river. Will raced to finish the task assigned to him and began to climb down the windmill, careful of his foothold on the slippery crossbars. Mr Wade had ridden in an hour ago for a meal and a change of clothes. It was the first Will had seen of the man in three days so concerned he’d been at Abelena’s disappearance. The owner was already at the front gate of the grand homestead, saddling a fresh horse, while in the distance the stockmen came riding.

  On the ground Will waited with the womenfolk, who stood on the opposite side of the road, their eyes shielded from the sun with raised hands. When the search parties reached the middle of the track near the windmill, the stockmen parted and Mr Kirkland appeared from their midst with Abelena mounted by his side. Man and girl walked on towards the house. The stockmen hung back silently.

  Abelena was filthy, her long hair matted, her feet bare. The girl sat straight-backed in the saddle, looking neither left nor right, and while Will could feel her pride, he was stunned by the wildness of her beauty. Even the older stockmen stared.

  Tobias Wade galloped to the group and, springing off his horse, ran to Abelena’s side. He tried to hug her, queried how she was, if she were injured, but the girl shrugged off his embrace, ignored his concerned questioning, deigning only to allow him to help her from the saddle.

  The gathered stockmen dropped their chins or busied themselves rolling smokes. The gaggle of women on the side of the road turned away and whispered. Once on the ground Abelena spat in the dirt at Mr Kirkland’s feet and began to hobble towards the homestead alone. She was covered in mud.

  ‘Where was she?’ Tobias Wade asked the overseer as he followed the girl’s limping progress.

  ‘Camped by the river,’ Wes informed him. ‘She’d lost her shoes.’

  ‘Well, thank God you found her, Wes.’ The two men shook hands. ‘I can’t believe she managed to survive out there for three whole days.’

  Wes folded his arms so that his hands rested nonchalantly on the front of the saddle. ‘Can’t you?’

  The question hung. The stockmen grew restless. The two men stared at each other.

  Evan gave a cough.

  ‘You better come inside, Wes.’ Tobias Wade’s voice was tight. ‘And thanks to all of you for assisting in the search.’

  ‘Just as long as the young girl’s safe and sound,’ the head stockman answered on behalf of the men. ‘Take their horses, boy,’ he directed Will as Mr Kirkland dismounted and began to walk with Tobias Wade back to the homestead.

  ‘What was that about?’ It was Sprout who asked the question everyone wanted answered.

  Evan lit a smoke. ‘I don’t like it. Something doesn’t feel right.’

  Thin-lipped, Nicholson snorted dismissively. ‘It’s just women, boss. Women are always trouble.’

  ‘Well this one sure seems to be,’ Evan agreed.

  ‘She’s just a tart,’ Nicholson decided. ‘Imagine spitting in the dirt like that.’

  Will took the horses and began the walk to the stables as the stockmen rode on ahead of him. The rope on the overseer’s horse was covered with mud.

  Chapter 51

  September, 1935 – Condamine Station homestead,

  Southern Queensland

  On the shaded stone verandah, Abelena argued with Mrs Brightman. ‘I don’t want to go inside.’

  ‘My dear girl, surely you must be exhausted. And look at you, you’re filthy. Don’t you want to shower and change? Eat? At least let me get you something to drink.’

  Kindness from strangers had been fleeting in the past. ‘Water,’ she replied to the older woman. ‘Thank you.’ The housekeeper reminded Abelena of the stationmaster’s wife at Broken Arrow, thin and lined, with grey hair styled plainly in a tight bun. But there all similarities ended: the stationmaster’s wife told Abelena that Tess’s death was a mercy. One less starving beggar.

  Mrs Brightman smiled. ‘Mr Wade seems a very nice man to me, dear.’

  ‘You’re not the one he keeps locked up.’

  ‘I know that you’re not from here, Abelena, but that’s no excuse for rudeness. And I don’t like to say it but clearly you’re being kept locked up for your own good, which your very recent behaviour has proved.’

  ‘Mine or his?’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘Is it for my good or his good that Tobias keeps me locked up?’

  The older woman clucked her tongue. ‘Most girls would give their eye-teeth to fall on their feet the way you have. Look at this place,’ she spread her arms wide, ‘a beautiful property, a kind man to care for you and money to last you until your dying day. You’ll never have to work a day in your life. Not like some of us,’ she sniffed.

  Abelena slumped in a cane chair and began picking at the dried mud on her arms. ‘What do you think he’s going to do with me?’

  The woman took a concerned step forward, knobbly-boned fingers clutching at an apron. ‘What do you mean, child?’

  ‘Marry me eventually, I suspect,’ Abelena mused. ‘But he’ll bed me before then.’

  The housekeeper lifted a hand in horror. ‘Don’t speak that way.’

  ‘That’s what men do. Well, they did with my mother, slept with her, got her with child and then left. You should ask your kind Mr Wade about his father Edmund. Did you know that he was in love with my great-grandmother and when she died he buried her in the garden? Of course Edmund was still married to Tobias’s mother back then, but the Wade men have always taken what they wanted and thrown away what they don’t want or need.’

  Mrs Brightman placed a hand on the cool stone wall to steady herself.

  Tobias and the overseer walked up the garden path. ‘Rum and water, Mrs Brightman,’ he ordered, taking the sweeping stone steps two at a time. ‘Mrs Brightman?’

  The housekeeper dabbed at her brow with a handkerchief. ‘Yes, Mr Wade. Right away.’

  ‘Why did you run away?’ Tobias flung a wide-brimmed hat on the side table and sat tiredly in one of the chairs. ‘I asked you a question, Abelena.’

  ‘I don’t want to be here,’ Abelena said simply. ‘I told you I didn’t want to leave when I was in Oklahoma.’

  The overseer leant against one of the stone pillars, twirling his hat between his fingers.

  ‘But you have no family there.’

  ‘Not to you I don’t, but you forget that Matthew and Mark are still alive. You haven’t killed them yet.’

  ‘Haven’t I looked after you? Clothed you? Fed you? Cared for you?’

  ‘Only after my brother was murdered and Mathew and Mark were taken from me. Only after my mother went to your father for money and Edmund sent them away after punching Uncle George in the nose.’

  Tobias looked bored. ‘We’ve had this conversation.’

  Wes Kirkland gave a low chortle.

  The housekeeper arrived with a pitcher of water, a bottle of rum and three glasses. Sitting the tray on the sideboard, she quietly walked back indoors.

  ‘Why did you bring me here?’

  Tobias rose and, pouring two glasses of rum and water, handed one to Wes. ‘You know why.’

  ‘You wanted me, that’s why. You wanted me like a child wants a piece o
f candy in a shop. Well, you can’t have me, Tobias. I’m not for the taking.’ She glared at Wes. ‘I’m not for anyone’s taking.’

  Tobias flinched, sat his glass on the table. ‘What’s that meant to mean?’

  Wes raised his hands in mock surrender. ‘I didn’t lay a hand on her.’

  ‘Sure he didn’t.’ Abelena rolled up the sleeves of her blouse. A thick red rope burn scarred both her arms. ‘And that’s not all he did.’

  ‘What the –’ Tobias jumped to his feet.

  ‘He did what you want to do,’ Abelena stated bluntly.

  Tobias landed a fist on Wes’s jaw.

  The overseer dropped his glass and stumbled down the verandah stairs as the tumbler shattered on the hard stone. ‘You bloody fool, Tobias!’ He strode back up the steps. ‘Can’t you see that she’s playing us against each other?’

  ‘I shouldn’t have to tell you not to lay a hand on her, Wes.’ Tobias’s face was red. ‘You should know better.’

  ‘And so should you,’ Wes countered. ‘How long have you known me, how long have I worked for your father, been a friend to you?’

  ‘A friend to me? I welcomed you as my friend in Oklahoma, but how did you repay me, Wes? By stealing my land!’ Tobias yelled. ‘This land.’

  ‘She’s a god-damned Injun, an Injun from a family that’s only given the Wades trouble.’

  ‘She is a Wade, damn you.’