The Heart of Thornton Creek

by Bonnie Leon

  “Callie, what is it?” Rebecca stood. “What’s wrong?”

  “It’s me mum. She’s sick. I’m needed at home. I was hopin’ I could take a few days and go ta her.”

  “Of course.” Rebecca was confused. She’d thought Callie had lost her parents when she’d been traded. “So you know where she lives, then?”

  “Yais. When ’er man died she settled in Toowoomba. I won’t be gone long, just a few days.” Her eyes teared. “She’s not long for this world, mum.”

  “You go right ahead. We’ll manage just fine until you get back.”

  Callie nodded and headed for the steps.

  “Is there anything I can do?”

  “No, mum.” She ran to her cottage and disappeared inside. The man on horseback followed and waited at her porch. A few minutes later Callie reappeared with a small bag, which she handed up to the man. He looped it over the pommel of his saddle, then offered his hand and helped Callie swing up behind him. The two rode off and disappeared beyond the rise.

  Late that afternoon Willa returned. Woodman assisted her from the surrey. Looking hot and weary, she made her way to a chair on the veranda and lowered herself into it.

  “You look exhausted,” Rebecca said. “Are you all right?”

  “Yes. But I dare say, I’m thankful to be home.” She fanned herself. “That poor family is suffering so. Every last one of them is sick.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Fevers, fatigue, and terrible headaches. In this heat it’s insufferable. I did what little I could.” She closed her eyes and rested her head against the back of the chair. “It feels so much better here in the shade.” She looked at Rebecca. “And how were you today? Any difficulties?”

  “Everything was fine. Can I get you something to drink?”

  “No. Callie can get it.”

  “She’s not here.”

  Willa sat up, her brows raised in question.

  “Her mother’s gravely ill, and she’s gone to be with her. She’ll be away only a few days.”

  “Oh, poor Callie. I do hope her mother recovers.”

  “It didn’t sound as if she would.”

  Willa brushed damp tendrils of hair up off her neck. “She came to you for permission?”

  “Yes. There wasn’t anyone else.”

  Willa nodded, then rubbing her left temple, closed her eyes again.

  Shortly after Willa’s return, Daniel and his father rode up and disappeared into the barn. A few minutes later, a weary Daniel ambled toward the house. He dusted off his hat and sat on the front steps.

  Rebecca pushed out of her chair and crossed to him. “You look tired.”

  “Right. But it was a good day. We managed to get the whole mob moved into the corrals.”

  “Would you like something to drink? There’s mint tea.”

  “No. I drank so much from the barrel down at the barn, it’s sloshing around my gut.” He grinned.

  Bertram strode from the barn and up the steps. He didn’t seem to notice anyone except Willa. He moved toward her. “Ya look done in,” he said, his lined face showing concern.

  “It’s just this heat—it’s insufferable with no breeze.”

  Bertram rested his large hand momentarily on her forehead, then smoothed back her hair. “Take care ya don’t wear yerself out.”

  “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

  Daniel warmed to the exchange between his parents. If only Dad was considerate more often, he thought.

  “I’ve got some paperwork to do,” Bertram said abruptly and disappeared inside.

  Willa pushed out of her chair. “I’ll see if Lily needs any help.” She moved indoors.

  Daniel turned to Rebecca as she sat in her chair. “How did you fare today, being on your own?”

  “Everything was fine, all except for Callie being called home to care for her mother.”

  “What happened?”

  “Her mother’s ill.”

  “Sorry to hear that.”

  Rebecca sipped her tea. “I’m glad you’re back early,” she said, then tentatively added, “I missed you.”

  “Missed me, eh?” Daniel asked jovially, trying not to allow the implication of affection to raise his hopes. “I was thinking about you too,” he added more seriously, glancing at the open land surrounding the house. “I’d surely rather spend the day with you than with a mob of bawling cows.”

  “Well, that’s quite a comparison,” Rebecca teased. She set down her glass. “So Meghan Linnell didn’t find you today?”

  “No, as a matter of fact, she didn’t. Does she distress you?”

  “No. Of course not, but . . .”

  “She’s nothing more than a friend, Rebecca.” Actually, she’s become something of a nuisance, he thought.

  “Meghan feels more than friendship, I can assure you.”

  Daniel wanted to keep the banter light but couldn’t help but wonder why a woman who didn’t love a man would be concerned about another woman. “You don’t trust me?” he asked.

  “Of course I do.”

  “Rebecca,” Bertram’s sharp voice called from inside.

  Daniel could see Rebecca tense up, and immediately anger toward his father filled him. Why couldn’t he treat her more kindly?

  His jaw set and eyes angry, Bertram pushed open the front door and marched onto the porch. “I understand ya gave Callie permission to leave the premises?”

  Rebecca stood. “Yes. Her mother . . .”

  “Yer not to make such decisions on yer own.”

  “But, sir, Mrs. Thornton was gone and you were away.”

  Wishing he could protect Rebecca from his father’s barbs, Daniel stood beside his wife.

  Her hand trembling slightly, Rebecca brushed a strand of hair from her forehead. “Someone had to . . .”

  “It could have waited until I returned. Yer too young to make important decisions.”

  “Her mother is sick; she’s dying. I thought it . . .”

  “Don’t argue with me,” he bellowed.

  “Bertram,” Willa said gently, joining her husband and resting a hand on his arm.

  Without even glancing at his wife, Bertram continued, “Ya’ll do as yer told! I won’t have any disrespect!” Without another word, he turned and stormed back inside.

  Staring at the door, Daniel seethed. He wanted to follow his father and tell him he had no right to speak to his wife the way he had. But he couldn’t move. It would do no good. It never had. All intervention would accomplish was to make life more difficult for Rebecca. He placed an arm about her shoulders and pulled her closer. “He’ll calm down. Just give him time.”

  Rebecca looked at him, her dark eyes revealing inner turmoil and the damage of fresh wounds.

  Willa said nothing but momentarily rested a hand on Rebecca’s shoulder before walking around to the side veranda, where she stopped and gazed out over the plains.

  “I’m sorry about that,” Daniel said. “But it’ll be all right.” He caught hold of her hand.

  Rebecca clasped it tightly. “It’ll never be all right, Daniel. I can’t please him. He hates me.” She looked at him through tears. “Why didn’t you defend me?”

  Daniel couldn’t grab hold of an answer right off. “Well, I . . .”

  “My father would never have spoken to anyone in such a manner, not even one of our servants. I would think that my own husband would shield me from such an attack.”

  “I wanted to. Truly. But it would do no good. I’ve watched this for many years. Nothing will change him. Just please try to get along. I’m sure he doesn’t hate you.” Even as he said the words, Daniel knew Bertram might very well hate his new daughter-in-law.

  “Would you like to go for a ride?” he asked more lightheartedly. “It’ll make you feel better, eh?”

  Rebecca sniffed. “I suppose it would.”

  They walked toward the barn, and again Daniel reached for Rebecca’s hand, but this time she moved it out of his reach and prete
nded she hadn’t noticed. Daniel felt absolute frustration. There was nothing he could do. Things were as they were. There must be some way I can shield her from my father’s rage.

  “This is a nice mare,” Daniel said, standing beside a small buckskin. “She’s strong and steady.”

  Rebecca studied the mare, running a hand down the front of her face and nuzzling her velvet-soft nose. She patted her broad neck.

  “She’s not nearly the horse Chavive was, but she’s smart and solid. And she seems eager for a ride.”

  “I like her.” Rebecca studied the animal. “I think I’ll name her Rena.”

  “Why Rena?”

  “I have a friend in Boston with that name. It means ‘peaceful.’ And I think the name is appropriate for this mare.”

  “Good, then.”

  The horses were saddled, and Daniel helped Rebecca onto her seat. She fixed one leg around the tall pommel of the sidesaddle, then modestly arranged her skirts. “One day I would like to ride astride like Cambria . . . and Meghan.”

  “That’s not for you, eh? They were raised among blokes.”

  “I can learn.” Rebecca’s horse sidestepped and tossed her head.

  “You’re a lady,” Daniel stated flatly. “And ladies don’t ride astride.”

  Rebecca gave him a questioning look. “You sound like your father, ordering me about.”

  “I didn’t mean it that way,” Daniel said, troubled by the comparison.

  Once on the road, they cantered the horses until Rebecca’s mare shied from a lizard skittering across the roadway. Her mount still fidgeting, Rebecca said, “It feels good to ride again. I’ve missed it terribly.”

  “I know I promised we would ride often. I’m sorry we haven’t.”

  After that Daniel and Rebecca walked their mounts in silence, stopping now and then to gaze out over the empty plains. They moved alongside a small river. “I had no idea you had a stream on the station.”

  “It’s one of the reasons my grandfather chose this place. Water’s important. This one’s stood up pretty well too. Only during the worst drought has it gone completely dry.” Remembering the billabong, he added, “I have something I’d like to show you.” He kicked his horse and loped ahead, continuing to follow the stream.

  Soon a splotch of green appeared, an oasis in the middle of a dry plain. Trees and tall grasses surrounded a serene pool of water. “What is this place?” Rebecca asked.

  “A billabong.”

  “So that’s what it looks like,” she said, allowing her horse to step into the shade of the trees.

  Daniel followed, and suddenly they and their horses were surrounded by greenery and the cries of birds. “It’s a place where the river bends and slows, forming a pool.”

  “It’s wonderful.” Rebecca scanned the area.

  “My brother and I used to come here when we were lads.” Daniel smiled at the memory, but a pang of sorrow followed. He missed Elton. He batted away a rope hanging from a tree. His mind turned back to the days when they would fling themselves out over the water and then let go and splash into the pool. “Elton and I had great fun ’ere.”

  Rebecca nodded. “I imagine it must have been grand.”

  “It was,” Daniel said, unable to disguise the sadness in his voice.

  “I’d like to come back. Perhaps we could have a picnic?”

  “And maybe even go for a swim.” Daniel managed a smile.

  Reluctantly Daniel and Rebecca turned toward home. The sun blazed just above the horizon, a vibrant orange ball. The earth seemed to pause as it waited for the blazing orb to settle. There was not even a breath of wind to disturb the leaves of the gum trees.

  Then the sun descended below the horizon and the evening sky turned a dusky pink. The world seemed serene and restorative. Daniel glanced at Rebecca. If only they could spend more evenings like this . . . maybe there could be a chance for real love between them.

  A thumping came from the darkening expanse. Several kangaroos leapt across open grassland.

  “Oh, how wonderful!” Rebecca said. “It’s amazing how far they can leap!”

  “They’re quite spectacular,” Daniel said, but his eyes were on Rebecca, not the kangaroos. He maneuvered his horse close and grasped her hand. “I’ve missed spending time with you.”

  “You’re always working,” Rebecca said, giving him only a glance before loosening her hand and looking back at the kangaroos.

  Daniel breathed deeply and nodded. “I know. There’s a lot to be done. And my father counts on me.”

  “If we’re to have a chance . . . you must find more time.”

  Feeling the anguish of hopelessness, Daniel said, “I wish I could give you more.”

  “Do you?”

  “Yes, I do.”

  Rebecca took a deep breath. “Your father’s wrong about my letting Callie go to her mother’s, and about other things as well. He’s extremely domineering.”

  “It’s just his way. He believes we’re his responsibility.” Daniel patted his horse’s neck, then smoothed its dark coat. “He’s a righteous man, and wise.”

  “That may be, but no one is right all the time,” Rebecca said dryly.

  Daniel knew she was right, but there was nothing to be done. What more could he say?

  “God gave his followers gifts to be used in union with one another. If one makes all the choices and takes on all the responsibilities, there is no unity or reason for service.”

  Daniel clenched his jaw.

  “We’re to work together, Daniel. The Word says we are to be a body, working together. Where would I be if all there were to me was a hand? I need legs and eyes and my . . .”

  “Right. I understand,” Daniel said, feeling annoyance grow.

  “Daniel, God can’t do what he intends if your father is the only one making decisions. He runs the church, the lives of the people in the district, and his family’s life.”

  “To him, the people in the district are his family. He cares ’bout us all.”

  “I know that. I’m not saying he doesn’t, but . . . well, he’s out of God’s will. And you know it.”

  “There’s no changing him. He is who he is.”

  “Is that why Elton left? Was he being strangled by your father’s control?”

  Daniel didn’t answer right away. “Elton . . .” There it was again—the sorrow. Daniel didn’t want Rebecca to see his pain. He said as lightly as possible, “He and Father used to go ’round a lot. He couldn’t accept Father’s way. Elton was like you; he didn’t like authority.” He offered Rebecca a half smile. “Finally he left. Actually, he and father had a row and he was ordered to go.”

  “I’m sorry, Daniel.”

  “They never spoke again.”

  “I don’t mean to be rebellious, but it’s time someone stood up to Bertram Thornton. And you’re his only son.”

  Daniel turned his horse toward the house. “I can’t change him. No one can.”

  15

  Rebecca and Daniel lay back-to-back in their four-poster bed. Rebecca savored these rare mornings together. It was at times like this that she felt a glimmer of hope of achieving a complete marriage. She rested against him and said sleepily, “I wish you didn’t have to work today and we could just have fun—maybe ride around the station. Go back to the billabong.”

  He rolled over and draped an arm on her side and intertwined his hand in hers.

  You’d think we were in love. She left her hand in his.

  “That would be grand,” he said with a sigh. “But you know my father. He’ll be quick to say, ‘Yet a little sleep, a little slumber, a little folding of the hands to sleep: So shall thy poverty come as one that travelleth, and thy want as an armed man.’”

  Rebecca rolled over and gazed into Daniel’s blue eyes. “It’s not a sin to enjoy life,” she said softly. “I’d like to have more time with you.”

  Daniel’s gaze was tender. What was it she saw in them? Love? No, she told herself firmly.

/>   “I wouldn’t mind having a go at some fun.” Daniel pushed himself up and dropped his legs over the side of the bed. “But it will have to wait.” He scrubbed his face with his hands before pushing off the bed. “I’ll do my best to get back early.”

  Daniel dressed, splashed his face with water, then ran a brush through his thick blond hair. “I’m off, then,” he said, leaning over Rebecca and resting his hands on either side of her head. He studied her. “You’re beautiful, you know.” He kissed her gently. “Maybe Dad can find work for me close to home.”

  Still feeling the touch of his lips on hers, Rebecca watched him walk to the door. A part of her longed for more than just companionship. She stretched her arms over her head. Of course, if she allowed herself to feel more, there were risks—he’d have greater power over her. “Can we go for another ride?”

  “I might as well ask to go on holiday.” He grinned. “Later, then.” He stepped out and softly closed the door.

  The room felt empty. Rebecca rolled onto her side and rested her cheek on her hands, staring at the place Daniel had been. What did she feel for him? In the months since their wedding, her emotions had changed—she cared deeply for Daniel, but was it love? Would I stay if I had a choice? She tried to imagine life without him. It felt empty, like the room without his presence. But the idea of Boston life was appealing.

  “Enough woolgathering,” she said, sitting up. What would she do with her day? She’d grown weary of embroidery, and although she enjoyed working in the garden, it didn’t sound good either. I want to ride.

  The sun had started its climb into the sky, and its light brightened the room. A rooster announced the new morning, and a calf bawled for breakfast. Rebecca climbed out of bed and walked to the open window. Callie tossed cracked corn to hungry chickens. She’d been home two days but hadn’t spoken of her mother.

  Jim stepped out of the bunkhouse and headed for the barn. He glanced up at Rebecca’s window, then stopped and tipped his hat. “G’day.”

  “Good day to you,” Rebecca said, leaning on the sill. “You’re up early.”