For the Love of the Land

by Bonnie Leon

  Daniel squeezed her shoulders. “I have something for you. I was going to give it to you tomorrow, but we’re both up now and I just can’t wait any longer.”

  Rebecca straightened. “What is it?”

  Daniel stood. “Come on, then.” Wearing a half smile, he grasped her hands and pulled her to her feet. Keeping a hold of one hand, he led her toward the front door.

  “Where are we going?”

  “You’ll see.” He opened the door and stepped outside.

  “You have something for me outside?”

  Daniel grinned, and his dimple creased his cheek. He led her down the front steps and to the barn.

  “Daniel, what’s going on?”

  He didn’t answer. Instead, he grabbed a lantern from just inside the barn door and lit it. “Ah, that’s better. Come on, then.”

  He moved toward the back of the barn and stopped just before the last stall, where he hung the lantern from a post. “I’ve been thinking and thinking about what to get you for Christmas. There didn’t seem to be anything that was just right. And then I realized there was only one thing you would really love.”

  Rebecca’s excitement and confusion grew. “What is it?”

  Daniel grinned and then picked up the lantern and moved to the last stall. “Merry Christmas,” he said, holding the lantern high and then clicking his tongue.

  A horse emerged from the shadows. A roan mare nickered.

  Rebecca stepped closer and studied the horse. “Chavive?”

  A familiar whinny answered her.

  “Oh, my Lord! Chavive!” Rebecca wrapped her arms around the animal’s neck and hugged her. Tears wet her cheeks. She rubbed the animal’s face with the palm of her hand. “Oh, Chavive! I never thought I’d see you again.” Rebecca looked at Daniel. “How?”

  Daniel smiled broadly. “I inquired about who bought her and made them an offer. At first they didn’t want to part with her, but when I told them how you two belonged together, they relented.”

  “But how did you get her here all the way from Boston?”

  “It was a bit complicated, but I had Mildred’s help. It was perfect timing, with her coming over. If she hadn’t been traveling on the same ship, I don’t know that I’d have trusted anyone to oversee the voyage. But Mildred made sure she had a first-rate stall onboard ship, and a good handler was hired to see to her all the way to Brisbane.”

  “It must have cost a fortune.”

  “Not exactly, but close. It was worth it though.” He smiled broadly. “Jim went to Brisbane to fetch her. We’ve had a real time of it, trying to keep her presence from you. And I was afraid Mildred would let the cat out of the bag. She was so excited about the whole matter that she’s had a terrible time of it.”

  “So that’s what Jim was doing in Brisbane.”

  “Right.”

  Rebecca crossed to her husband. “Oh, Daniel! I love you!” She held his face in her hands. “You’re the most wonderful man on the earth!” She kissed him. “Thank you! Thank you!”

  “Don’t know that I’m exactly the most wonderful, but close to it, eh?” Daniel grinned broadly.

  Chavive whinnied. Rebecca turned and patted the mare. “She’s thin.”

  “The trip over was a bit rough on her. No worries though. She’ll fill out.”

  “She’s dressed for a Boston winter.” Rebecca ran her hand down the horse’s neck, imagining the sheen that would soon appear as the horse shed her winter coat.

  Rebecca longed to ride her, right now under the light of the moon. She glanced at her swollen abdomen, then caressed Chavive’s face. “You’re a fine lady. We’ll ride soon.”

  Rebecca picked a sprig of lavender, held it to her nose, and breathed deeply. “Mmm, I love this smell.”

  Mildred pulled a weed, then sat back on bent legs. “It’s one of my favorites. It has a distinctive fragrance. We ought to include it in a bouquet.” She gazed up at an overcast sky. “I’m thankful for the cool weather; working in the garden is a delight.”

  Willa dropped a rather large weed into a bucket. “I’ve always found gardening to be soothing. No matter what my trouble might be, I feel more at peace when my hands are busy tidying up my garden.”

  “Yes. Absolutely,” Mildred said.

  Rebecca wondered about the sadness she saw in her aunt’s eyes. “Is everything all right, Auntie? You don’t seem yourself. Is something troubling you?”

  Mildred hesitated before answering, as if trying to decide whether to share the truth or not. Finally she said, “No. I’m fine.” She looked over the garden and changed the subject. “But I do wish I’d done more gardening over the years.” She dusted the palms of her gloved hands. “When I lived with you and your father, we had someone to do such things, and my brother-in-law, Sterling, doesn’t think it’s ladylike.” A resolute expression settled on her face. “However, I’ve decided that when I return I’m going to tell him I don’t much care what he thinks—I’m going to do as much gardening as I like.” She smiled triumphantly.

  Such boldness was out of character for Mildred, but Rebecca liked it. “Bravo,” she said.

  With a harness draped over one shoulder, Woodman joined the three women. He smiled. “Roight fine day. Good for workin’. Fresh air and hard work’s good for a body. A soul needs ta get close ta the earth.” He shuffled the harness, then with a “G’day,” he walked on.

  “Woodman seems a fine person,” Mildred said.

  “He is that.” Willa pushed to her feet. “I dare say, I don’t know what we’d do without him.”

  “Is he leaving?”

  “Oh no. Well, I can’t say for certain. He’s been known to go on walkabout without a moment’s notice.”

  “Walkabout—I’ve heard of that. Just what does it mean?”

  “I don’t understand it completely.” Willa tucked a stray strand of hair into place. “The aborigines feel some sort of call from the earth. They walk for days and days, listening to . . . the earth. They continue on until they’ve finished. I’m not quite sure just what they’re doing, but I heard something about their listening to and following songs. Sometimes they’re gone for months.”

  “Really? How peculiar.”

  “I’d like to go with Woodman sometime,” Rebecca said. “I think it would be fascinating.”

  Willa grinned. “You won’t be going anywhere. Soon you’ll have a child to look after. And most likely Woodman wouldn’t take anyone along with him. It’s usually a solitary experience. And I don’t think without hardship.” Willa retied her straw bonnet, cinching it tightly under her chin.

  “Daniel said that when he was a boy he went on walkabout with Woodman.”

  “Yes, now that you mention it, he did. He was still a lad. Woodman thought it would be a good experience for him, and Bertram agreed. They weren’t gone too awfully long, only a few weeks as I recall.”

  Adding a sprig of lavender to the beginnings of a bouquet, Mildred said, “How curious to just walk off and wander about. I’d be afraid of getting lost.”

  “They never get lost,” Willa said. “Aborigines seem to know the earth and its ways very well. At times they’re rather surprising people.”

  “Woodman is kind. He was a great help to me when I first arrived,” Rebecca said, rubbing an aching back. Feeling weary and sore, she let out a slow breath. “I’m rather tired. I think I’ll sit on the veranda for a while.”

  “You look flushed,” Mildred said. “Are you sure you’re all right?”

  “Yes. Just a bit hot and achy.” Chavive whinnied and trotted along the edge of the corral. Rebecca’s eyes went to her. “I can hardly wait to ride again.”

  “It will bless me to watch you,” Mildred said.

  “Auntie, I’m amazed that you said nothing about her. You were so good at keeping the secret.”

  “It wasn’t easy. I wanted to tell you so badly. But I’d promised Daniel.”

  Rebecca dropped a kiss on Mildred’s cheek. “Thank you for taking such goo
d care of her while you traveled. I’ve heard terrible stories about animals who have been mishandled while being transported.”

  “I checked on her every day. It was rather nice, really, becoming reacquainted with her. And the stable hand who watched over her was a fine young man. He worked for the previous owners. I think he was sad that she’d been sold.”

  Rebecca studied the horse. “She doesn’t look as robust as she did when she lived with us. But I’m sure she’ll be herself again soon.”

  “You best get out of the sun,” Willa said, taking Rebecca’s arm and guiding her out of the garden and up the porch steps. She steered her toward a chair, seated her, and then pulled another chair up close. She lifted Rebecca’s feet and set them on the additional seat. “There, now, that ought to help.” She glanced at Mildred, who’d dropped onto a settee. “I’d say we’ve worked long enough for one day. I’ll have Callie get us some tea and biscuits.” Taking the small bouquet from Mildred, she said, “I’ll put these in water.”

  Willa disappeared indoors. A few minutes later she reappeared with a bowl of water and a washcloth. “Here, now, this should be cooling,” she said, wringing water from the cloth and gently patting Rebecca’s face. Her sky-blue eyes full of concern, she placed the cloth on Rebecca’s forehead.

  “That feels nice. Thank you.” Rebecca closed her eyes.

  “It’s not hot, but you’re looking overheated,” Mildred said.

  “I’m better now, Auntie. Don’t worry.” Rebecca’s eyes went to the corral. Chavive trotted restlessly around the enclosure, ready for a ride. “It will be so lovely to ride her again. It’s still hard to believe she’s actually here.”

  Mildred smiled. “Oh, I remember the hours you spent on horseback exploring the pastures and forests near our home.” She cast a glance at the dry flatlands. “I don’t suppose it’s quite the same here.”

  “No. But it’s still very nice,” Rebecca said. “There’s a feeling of freedom here that I didn’t have in Boston. I’m certain once Chavive becomes accustomed to the openness, she and I will have a grand time together.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Mildred said. “I must admit, however, that this is not what I had expected . . . or hoped for.”

  “What do you mean, Auntie? Hoped for?”

  Callie appeared carrying a tray with a teapot, cups and saucers, and delicate-looking jam-filled biscuits. She set it on the table between the women. “Anything else, mum?”

  “No. That’s all for now.”

  “I’ll pour,” Mildred said, lifting the teapot. Daintily balancing a cup and saucer, she filled the cup with the honey-colored brew. After handing a cup to Willa, she poured tea into the two remaining cups, adding sugar to one and giving it to Rebecca. “If I recall, you like just a bit of sugar.”

  Rebecca sipped. “It’s just right.”

  Willa offered the plate of biscuits to Rebecca. “Would you like a sweet?”

  “No. I’m not hungry.”

  Willa extended them to Mildred.

  Mildred took one, tasted it, and chewed thoughtfully. “Mmm. Delicious. I believe I detect a hint of almond?”

  “You’ll have to ask Lily. She made them.” Willa took a biscuit and set the plate down. “She’s a wonder in the kitchen.”

  Rebecca dipped the cloth in the water, wrung it out, and patted her face and neck. She wasn’t feeling quite right. An ache had settled around her abdomen and lower back, and she felt restless. She closed her eyes and tried to relax. The muscles in her abdomen tightened, sending sharp pains into her pelvis. She tried to breathe normally.

  “You’re not looking well,” Mildred said.

  “Actually, I’m not feeling well.”

  “What is it, dear?” Willa asked.

  The pain subsided. “It might be time for the baby.”

  Mildred’s face blanched. “Why do you think that?” she asked, her voice tight.

  “I’m not feeling like myself, and I had a rather unusual pain just now. However, it’s gone.”

  Rebecca took a sip of tea and gazed out over the yard and beyond to the grasslands. Where was Daniel? The last several days, he’d been working on the outer ranges, and Rebecca had worried her time would come and he’d not be close enough to be sent for. Please, come home soon, she thought.

  Quiet settled over the three women. A breeze rustled the greenery about the veranda, carrying with it the sharp fragrance of lavender. Rebecca drank her tea while making an effort to release her tension. Then again the muscles in her abdomen tightened and a throbbing settled into her lower back. The ache wrapped itself around her, gradually increasing in intensity. She let out a soft moan.

  “Rebecca, what is it?” Willa asked.

  “I’m having another pain.”

  Willa and Mildred both stood. “We best send for the doctor,” Willa said. “Callie! Callie!”

  Almost immediately the housemaid appeared at the door. “Yais, mum?”

  “We need Woodman to go for the doctor. And someone needs to find Daniel. Please ask Jim if he’ll go. It’s time for the baby.”

  “Yais, mum,” Callie said, bustling across the porch and then taking the steps two at a time before running across the dirt yard toward the carriage house.

  “We should get you to bed,” Mildred suggested.

  “If it’s all right with you, I’d rather stay here. The pain isn’t so bad that I belong in bed, and it’s much nicer here than indoors.”

  “I suppose you’re right.” Mildred clasped her hands together and held them close to her chest. “I don’t really know much about these things. I’ve never had a child, and I’ve never been present at a birth.” She walked to the balustrade. “What does one do?” She looked at Willa.

  “For now, we wait.” She patted Mildred’s arm. “Everything will be fine. Rebecca’s young and strong, and Dr. Walker is a fine physician.”

  “I’m sure you’re right,” Mildred said, her nostrils flaring as she breathed in.

  It wasn’t long before Rebecca’s contractions became strong and close together. Gratefully she moved to her bed. Her labor seemed to be progressing quickly, and Daniel still hadn’t returned.

  “Willa, do you know where Daniel is working?”

  “No. I suggested he stay close to home. But you know how men can be. They see a job that needs doing and they do it.” She leaned over Rebecca and said gently, “Jim’s gone to look for him, and I’m sure he’ll be here in no time.” She straightened and walked across the room to Mildred. “Things seem to be moving along rather rapidly,” she whispered.

  Rebecca overheard. “Does that mean something’s wrong?” she asked.

  “Oh my, no. Don’t you worry. Every woman’s labor is different. No doubt everything’s fine. We just want the baby to wait for the doctor.”

  Rebecca felt a pulse of apprehension. “What do we do if he doesn’t get here in time?”

  “We have Lily. She’s brought many babies into the world. Perhaps she ought to have a look at you. I’ll get her.” Willa opened the door and found Lily waiting just outside. “Ah, there you are.”

  “Yais, mum.” The cook grinned, the gap in front taking over her smile. She walked toward Rebecca. “So it’s time for the bybie, eh?”

  Mildred paced. “Willa, I don’t know about this. I expected there to be a doctor here.”

  “And I’m sure there will be,” Willa said, the usual serenity missing from her voice.

  “How much longer do you think he’ll be?”

  “I’m certain Woodman’s doing his best to get him here. There’s no reason to be alarmed.”

  Lily placed a hand on Rebecca’s abdomen and left it there through a contraction. “Yer pains are strong. That’s good.”

  “It is?” Another contraction hit, and Rebecca gritted her teeth.

  Lily placed both hands on Rebecca’s stomach and felt for the baby. “It’s still kind of high up, mum. Do ya feel like pushin’?”

  Rebecca shook her head no.


  “Roight, then. No worries.” She stood and turned to Willa. “Do ya want me ta stay?”

  “No. I just wanted you to check her. She’s fine?”

  “Yais, mum. But the pains are strong. Maybe very soon that bybie will be ’ere.”

  “Oh dear. Where is the doctor?” Mildred asked, her voice trembling.

  Willa sat on the edge of the bed and placed a damp cloth on Rebecca’s forehead. “Mildred, perhaps you should have a cup of tea. I’ll make sure to let you know if there is any change.”

  “I couldn’t leave just yet.”

  The muscles in Rebecca’s abdomen tightened again. Feeling as if she were being torn in two, she clutched her mother-in-law’s hand. Although she made no sound, when the contraction passed she looked at Willa and said, “It hurts more than I imagined.”

  “I know, dear. The first baby is always the most difficult. The pain’s not something a woman can truly explain, and it usually takes a bit of time for the little one to arrive.” She smiled. “But you’re doing splendidly.”

  Mildred hovered in the background, hands clasped. Her lips moved in silent prayer.

  “Auntie,” Rebecca said. “Come here.” She patted the bed beside her.

  Mildred approached and sat carefully.

  Rebecca smiled at her aunt. “Everything will be fine. Please don’t worry. I’ve been told that Lily’s an excellent midwife. She’s helped with nearly all the babies born here at Douloo.”

  Mildred nodded but looked unconvinced.

  Another pain crashed over Rebecca. She closed her eyes and clenched her teeth. Like a terrible, ripping wave, it moved through her—she knew nothing but pain. Still, she refused to cry out. When it finally passed, she took a deep breath and blew it out. “That was the worst one yet. Do you think I’m getting close?”

  “Maybe we should call Lily in again?” Mildred asked.

  “I don’t believe that much has changed since she was here. It’s only been a few minutes.”

  Mildred nodded and sat in the straight-backed chair. She pulled a handkerchief from her skirt pocket and folded it, then unfolded it and refolded it again.

  Time passed, and the contractions came harder and lasted longer. Willa kept a cool cloth on Rebecca’s forehead and periodically bathed her face with the damp cloth.