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The Heart of Thornton Creek

Page 15

by Bonnie Leon


  He brushed something off his pants leg. “He understands me. When I go on walkabout, he knows I gotta go.” He looked down at Rebecca. “Still, we’re not mates. Can’t be. Don’t think Mr. Thornton even sees me as a whole human being.”

  Rebecca didn’t know what to say, so she simply nodded.

  All the way back to the house, Rebecca felt unsettled. She wished Daniel would ride in the surrey. Instead, he rode his stallion alongside his father. It would be nice if he paid a bit more attention to his wife than he did to his father. What more could I have expected? she thought miserably. I thought things would be different.

  The surrey stopped in front of the house, and before Bertram turned his horse toward the barn, he settled a stern gaze on Rebecca. She felt her insides quake and glanced at Daniel, hoping for support. He offered no trace of reassurance.

  “I’d like to see you in the study, Rebecca,” Bertram said, then steered the horse toward the barn.

  Daniel didn’t follow but climbed down from his stallion and walked to the surrey. “No worries. I’m sure everything is right as rain.”

  “What do you suppose he wants?”

  Daniel’s horse stepped back, and he tugged on the reins. “I’m sure it’s nothing. Don’t look so stricken. He won’t bite.” He smiled, but his eyes told her he knew the truth—that Bertram may not bite, but he had a painful sting.

  “Would you go with me?”

  “Dad wouldn’t like that.”

  “But you’re my husband.”

  “He’ll only send me out.”

  “Fine, then,” Rebecca said, feeling rebuffed. She climbed down from the surrey. “I’ll just freshen up.” Keeping her back straight, she stepped past her husband and glanced at Willa as she moved toward the house. Willa’s concerned expression made Rebecca’s pulse pick up even more.

  After tidying her hair and splashing her face with water, Rebecca headed downstairs. She walked decisively to the study. Stopping at the heavy door, she took a steadying breath and then knocked.

  “Come in,” Bertram called from inside. He sounded annoyed.

  I’ve done something to displease him, Rebecca thought. Opening the door and stepping inside, she searched her mind for the blunder. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Yes. Close the door, please.”

  Rebecca did as she was told, then approached her father-in-law’s desk. She clasped her hands in front of her, hoping to quiet their trembling.

  Bertram gazed at her from beneath heavy brows. “As I told ya, I believe my role ’ere is one of father to ya.” His voice was gentle, belying his expression.

  “Yes, sir, you did.”

  “And now I must take on another role—one of elder. As ya know, I’m an elder at the church, and as such I have clear direction to control my family.”

  Dread filled Rebecca. She couldn’t imagine what she’d done that required a reprimand from an elder.

  Bertram stood and leaned on his desk. “I was told of yer behavior in church today.”

  “My behavior, sir?”

  “Ya went behind my back and tried to make changes in church procedure.”

  Flabbergasted at the accusation, she said, “I’ve done nothing of the kind.”

  “Seems ya requested there be solos during church?”

  “Yes, but it was only a suggestion. The women didn’t . . .”

  “From now on ya come to me. I make the decisions ’ere at home and for the church.”

  “But . . .”

  “I’m the principal elder, and all proposals come to me first.” His voice was calm but firm. “It’s a sign of disrespect to have someone in my own household go behind my back and seek authority from someone else.”

  “That’s not what . . .”

  “From now on ya’ll ask me before ya speak to anyone.”

  Rebecca was trembling, as much from anger as fear. “Mr. Thornton, I’ve done nothing wrong. I didn’t mean any disrespect. I simply thought it might be nice if someone like Cambria could sing . . . on occasion. She has a lovely voice.”

  “‘Pride goeth before destruction, and an haughty spirit before a fall. Better it is to be of an humble spirit with the lowly, than to divide the spoil with the proud.’ Proverbs 16:18–19. Would ya have yer sister filled with pride?”

  Rebecca fumbled for his meaning.

  “If we allow people to perform, we tempt them. They can too easily become prideful. And the Scripture is clear—pride brings destruction.”

  While she mulled over the idea, Rebecca said, “I hadn’t thought of that.”

  “That’s why ya must come to me. I have a great deal more experience in these matters. As ya know, I have daily devotions and prayer. God has blessed me abundantly. I have the finest station in the district. Therefore, I’m convinced he approves of my life.”

  “Yes, sir, that may be true, but I must say, Cambria doesn’t seem the type to suffer from pride.”

  “No one’s safe from it.”

  “Yes, I know, but . . .”

  “Enough. Yer too young to know about such things. Plus, females lack the clear thinking needed for such judgments.”

  Rebecca’s anger swelled.

  Bertram reached out to her. “You can trust me. The Lord has made his face to shine upon me.”

  Rebecca allowed him to take her hand, but she disliked the control she felt in his grasp. He didn’t seem the type to guide, but rather the type who forced people to do his will.

  “I don’t want to hear any more about this singing, eh? Things will stay as they are.” He smiled. “And if ya have an inquiry about church, ya come to me.”

  Rebecca knew this was wrong. Bertram was not the only authority for this family. What about Reverend Cobb? What about Daniel? And what about God? His Word clearly stated that he spoke to his children whether they be male or female, old or young.

  Her thoughts churned through all that had been said, then stuck on something. It was possible God was using Bertram to speak to her. After all, he did have more experience than she did, and he knew his Bible well. Why shouldn’t she trust him?

  “Rebecca, is there anything else ya’d like to say?”

  “No, sir. I’ll make sure to come to you first with any other ideas I might have.”

  “Good. I’m glad we had this chat. Now, on yer way.” He sat down and picked up a book.

  Rebecca was dismissed.

  14

  Rebecca stared at the open plains while the surrey sloshed over muddy roads and bounced through deep puddles. The last two days had brought needed rain, but rather than showers there had been a deluge.

  It was Sunday, and as she considered the upcoming service, her mind traveled back to Boston and the kind of services she’d experienced there. Enthusiasm and vitality had always been part of being in church. Sunday had been a day she looked forward to, knowing there would be an inspired sermon and good fellowship.

  Now she’d rather be heading almost anywhere else. Even during the Christmas holiday, there’d been little celebration. And Reverend Cobb hadn’t seemed cheery at all.

  Daniel walked his horse close to the carriage. “You look right surly this morning,” he said, reining in his stallion to match the surrey’s pace.

  “She does look a bit peaked.” Willa reached across the seat and patted Rebecca’s leg.

  “I’ll admit to being a little down. I’d feel much better, though, if you’d allow me to ride,” she teased, looking up at Daniel.

  He glanced at his father, who had moved ahead. “You know I don’t mind, but . . . I don’t have the last word ’round ’ere.”

  Daniel’s deference to his father annoyed Rebecca. A spiteful retort hung on her tongue, but she bit it back and said instead, “Yes. I know.”

  “I’ve business after church today. So I won’t be having a cuppa with you.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “The Linnells’.”

  Jealousy nettled Rebecca. “Why the Linnells’?”

  �
�They’ve got a grand bull. He’s worth a fair bit, and he’d be a good addition to our stock.”

  Rebecca barely heard his reply. All she could think of was Meghan. She’d be there. What difference does it really make, anyway? she asked herself. Daniel doesn’t love me; I don’t love him. Rebecca felt miserable.

  “Say hello to Mrs. Linnell for me,” Willa said.

  “Right. She’s feeding the lot of us. There’ll be others having a look.”

  Rebecca leaned back in the seat and folded her arms over her chest, considering if she might go along. She didn’t suppose it was proper for a woman to join a group of men assessing a bull for breeding. And actually, when she thought of it, she’d rather not be there.

  Using a handkerchief, she patted the moisture on her forehead. Even with the rain and clouds it was still overly warm. The humidity was worse than usual, making the heat more intolerable.

  Jim rode up beside Daniel and tipped his hat. “Morning.”

  “G’day,” Daniel said.

  “Good morning, James.” Willa smiled. “Are you faring well?”

  “Yes, ma’am, I’m good.”

  “Will you be joining us at church?”

  “No, ma’am. I’ve got friends waiting for me in town. After, I’ll be going out with Mr. Thornton and Daniel to the Linnells’.” A smile played on his lips as his eyes settled on Rebecca. “Figured they could use some company.”

  Thank you for that, Rebecca thought. He understood how she felt about Meghan and Daniel. She offered a smile.

  The two men rode on ahead of the surrey, joining Bertram. Rebecca stood and rested her hands on the front seat. “Woodman, do you mind if I ride up front with you? I could use a change of scenery. And there might be a bit more breeze.”

  He looked back and smiled, showing off his surprisingly white teeth. “Ya come roight on up, then.”

  “Do you mind, Willa?”

  “No. Of course not.”

  Modestly gathering her skirts, Rebecca clambered onto the front seat. “Thank you. I was feeling confined.”

  “It’s a pleasure ta ’ave yer company.” He clicked his tongue and flicked the reins. Gray mud had collected on the wheels, making travel slow.

  Rebecca studied the horses. Their shiny, black rumps were well muscled, and they held their heads enthusiastically aloft. “They’re good-looking animals.”

  “Too roight—a matched set. Morgans, they are. I’d say they’re one of the nicest in the district. We’re roight proud of our animals at Douloo.”

  “I can see that. They’re well looked after.”

  Rebecca’s mind returned to Meghan. She couldn’t forget that Meghan had been Bertram’s choice for his son. I’m certainly a disappointment to him. She looked at Woodman. He’d know about Daniel and Meghan. She gathered her courage and glanced back at Willa. Her mother-in-law seemed to be dozing.

  Rebecca pressed gloved hands together, then cleared her throat. “You’ve known Daniel a long while.”

  “Yais. All ’is life.”

  “I suppose you’d know why Meghan Linnell appears to be . . . well, after him even though he’s married.”

  “Wal, I know something ’bout it. She always figured he was ’ers—everybody did.”

  “You, too?”

  Woodman settled dark eyes on Rebecca. “I figured that’s the way it would go.” He smiled. “A Yank wasn’t my choice, but . . . yer roight good for Daniel. And I like ya fine.”

  “I like you too.” Rebecca took a slow breath, then asked, “Why do you suppose Meghan can’t accept that he’s married?”

  “She’s always got what she wanted.” He leaned forward and rested his arms on his legs. “Way I see it, no one belongs ta nobody.”

  “Don’t husbands and wives belong to each other?”

  “That’s the difference between whites and blacks. Yer always hangin’ on ta things ’stead of givin’ ’em freedom. We come from the earth, and we go back to it. When we come we ’ad nothin’, and when we go back we ’ave nothin’.”

  “Callie said nearly the same thing.” Rebecca wondered if it was wise to question Woodman about his religion. Curiosity overcame her reservations. “Woodman, do you believe in God?”

  “I believe in a creator all roight, the one who was in the dreamtime, but not the God yer talkin’ of. Which is all roight with me. Ya can believe as ya wish.”

  Rebecca nodded. “Maybe we can talk about it someday?”

  Woodman made no response but flicked the reins and kept his eyes forward.

  Rebecca returned to her questions about Daniel and Meghan. “Don’t you think it’s wrong for Meghan to behave as she is? I mean, she’s nearly throwing herself at Daniel.”

  “Roight. But then Meghan does as she pleases.”

  The knot in Rebecca’s stomach tightened. If Meghan was used to getting what she wanted, would she continue to pursue Daniel until she got him?

  Rebecca studied white puffs of clouds in an otherwise brilliant blue sky. Her eyes wandered over the open spaces. Tufts of green merged with dried grasses. “Will the plains turn green soon?”

  “Not roight likely, not this time of year. We get our fair share of rain but not enough for real change.” Woodman flicked the reins and guided the team through a gully.

  Church was as Rebecca had expected. She was thankful when Reverend Cobb finished his dreary litany and the final hymn was sung. She decided to skip the women’s guild meeting and share a lazy lunch with Cambria instead.

  Sitting in the shade of a gum tree, the two friends ate and shared the latest news.

  “I missed you the last few weeks,” Rebecca said.

  “I was sick, down with the bug me brother had. It went roight through the family—rough one it was too.”

  “I’m thankful you’ve recovered. You look well.”

  “I’m roight good now.” She bit into a sandwich. “Ever since I got me appetite back, I’ve been starvin’. I’m liable to put on a few too many pounds.”

  Rebecca studied the slight young woman. “A little extra weight wouldn’t hurt you any.”

  “Good. I like ta eat.” Cambria grinned.

  “I had a quarrel with my father-in-law. He was absolutely fit to be tied about my suggesting your singing a solo at Christmas.”

  “Really? Wal, I’m thankful I didn’t ’ave ta do it. Just the thought makes me feel faint.”

  “He was outraged. I had no idea he’d be so upset. I thought it would be nice to listen to you sing.” Rebecca sighed. “Doesn’t seem I can do anything right.”

  Cambria slowed her chewing. “What did he say?”

  “He told me I was never to make any suggestions without first getting his permission. And that allowing you or anyone else to sing was a temptation that might cause a person to become prideful.” She tore off a piece of bread and put it in her mouth. “I’ve thought on it, and I’m certain you’d never be troubled by pride, especially over something like singing.”

  Cambria smiled. “Thank ya for yer confidence, but I struggle with pride now and again just like everyone else.”

  “I’ve been unsettled ever since. I’m not sure what I should or shouldn’t do. I’ve been making every effort to be careful not to say or do anything that might upset Mr. Thornton. He can be very intimidating.”

  “I don’t think ya ’ave anything ta fear from him. He’s a fine man. Everyone in the district thinks highly of him. He’s always doing a kindness for someone.” She dabbed at her mouth with a napkin. “I know he likes ta oversee most things, ’specially important church decisions. And he’s been known ta help people with their troubles and give them guidance. I can’t think of a single time he’s been wrong.” She dropped the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth and chewed thoughtfully. “I think he might actually be a saint. But I must admit, he can be a bit frightening. I never know what ta say ta him. Can’t imagine if I was ta live in the same house.”

  “It’s not easy. I don’t think he likes me much. But I suppose you
’re right. I should trust him. He’s more learned than I, and he is my elder. But I think you’ve gone a bit far by calling him a saint.”

  Cambria shrugged. “I’m sure yer wrong about how he feels about ya. But I can see how he’d be disappointed, since he was counting on Meghan becomin’ part of the family. Not that she was roight for Daniel.”

  “She’s on my mind all the time. I know she and Daniel are spending time together.”

  “But it’s not Daniel’s doin’.”

  “I want to be more like Meghan, a true Australian.”

  Cambria laughed. “Oh no. Don’t do that. She’s a spoiled brat.”

  Rebecca nodded. “I can believe that.”

  Rebecca sat on the front porch and rocked while she embroidered the pocket of an apron. She’d decided to use an image of blue lupine. It was one of her favorite flowers from back home. Holding the apron away from her, she studied the emerging tapestry and was satisfied she’d caught the essence of the flowers.

  With a sigh she set the apron in her lap and gazed out at the empty yard. It was hot; it was always hot. The thought of cooling rain showers at home sifted through her mind. She missed the fragrant, moisture-laden earth so common in New England.

  “No rain, no cooling breezes,” she said, gazing at a cloudless sky and dry, brown earth. The ground had dried up quickly after the brief rains. There was no activity in the yard or at the barn. Silence enfolded the grounds, and a hush pervaded the house. Daniel and his father, along with several drovers, were working a distant corner of the station. Willa had set off early to visit a sick neighbor. Rebecca wished she had something to do, but the day lay dreary and endless before her.

  A dust cloud puffed into the air just below the rise at the end of the drive, then Rebecca heard the pounding of horses’ hooves. Amid a swirl of dirt, a very short and skinny black man rode into the yard. When he reached the porch, he reined in his stocky mount. “G’day.”

  “Good day. What can I do for you?”

  “I’m lookin’ fer Miss Callie. She ’ere?”

  “Yes. Around back.”

  “With a nod, the man kicked his horse and headed for the back of the house. A few minutes later Callie stepped through the front door and onto the veranda. She looked stricken.

 

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