by Bonnie Leon
Jim doffed his hat, turned his horse toward the Taylor place, and rode off.
Daniel watched until all he could see was the dust created by Jim’s horse.
Feeling melancholy, he headed toward the place Woodman had once dreamed about his brother Elton galloping his stallion. When Daniel had returned from Boston with Rebecca, Woodman had told him about the dream. He’d said Elton was happy.
That place had always been a favorite of Daniel’s and his brother’s. The ground was level and mostly smooth. During the wet season, water flowed down the now-dry channel. He and Elton had often raced through the gully, they and their mounts enjoying the tantalizing sensation of splashing water as they charged through the stream. Ghost gums grew along the banks. As a lad, Daniel had imagined the trees were spectators cheering on the two competitors.
Now he moved slowly toward the place where they’d once played. Reining in his horse in the shade of a broad-limbed acacia, Daniel stopped in its filtered sunlight. He drank from his canteen, then replaced the lid and breathed deeply, filling his lungs with overheated air.
His thoughts moved to Rebecca. Again he’d had to leave her while she slept. Every morning he would stand and gaze at her, wishing he didn’t have to go. When she’d gotten sick after Joseph was born, he hadn’t been able to leave her, and even when it had become clear she would live, he’d lingered a few extra days.
The station demanded his attention, and the stillness of the flats called him to the solitary friendship of the open plains. If only Rebecca could share this with me, he thought, studying the dry countryside with its haze of dust and heat. Even as he dreamed of sharing what sustained him, Daniel recognized the futility of the wish. Rebecca might accept her life in Queensland, but she would never cherish the land.
When he reached the dry riverbed, his mind returned to the races between him and his brother. Elton had almost always beaten him. He’d been more driven and more fearless than Daniel had been. “I wish you were here,” he said aloud. “I need your help.” He watched a small goanna dart across the heated earth and disappear into the roots of a gum tree. Elton had been well suited to managing Douloo. If only he and Father hadn’t quarreled so brutally.
Daniel had been the one who frequently took the path of least resistance. Now, as inappropriate as it might seem, it was he who carried the weight of responsibility for Douloo. He’d have to learn to scrap and to defy the odds. He’d never been tough enough for his father, but he now took solace in the fact that he was becoming stronger and more shrewd. Perhaps his father might admire him a bit these days.
His stallion whinnied nervously and danced. “Whoa, there.” Daniel looked about to see what was distressing the animal. A snake glided across the ground toward the horse’s feet. The stallion’s muscles tightened, and he leaped, then sidestepped and reared with a high-pitched neigh.
Daniel pulled on the reins and pressed his knees tightly against the animal’s sides but lost his seat and was thrown to the ground. Pain pierced his left ankle as it twisted beneath him. He managed to grab the reins. He wasn’t about to let his horse run off. The snake slipped away, and the stallion quieted.
Gripping the reins, Daniel struggled to his feet. Gingerly he put weight on the foot. Shooting pain cut to the bone. He stood, balancing on his undamaged foot. “Must not be all that bad, eh?” He patted the horse. “No worries.”
Still not certain that the horse wouldn’t bolt, he kept hold of the reins and hobbled to a nearby log and sat. His ankle throbbed. Carefully he removed his boot and studied the limb. Already it was bruised and swollen.
“Could have been worse,” he said to the quiet plains. And if it had been? Reality hit him with a jolt. His family and Douloo depended on him. He couldn’t afford to get hurt—or worse, killed. If something happened to him, there was no one to oversee Douloo—his father’s and grandfather’s legacy could be lost.
In the distance he spotted a horse and rider moving toward him. He watched as they came closer. It was Rebecca.
Riding astride, Rebecca galloped toward Daniel. She pulled back on the reins and leaped from Chavive’s back. “Are you all right? I saw you fall.”
“I’m fine. What are you doing out ’ere?”
“Riding.” She smiled. “Jim said you might be heading this way. I hoped we could spend some time together.” She crossed to her husband and bent to kiss him. Looking at his exposed foot and ankle, she gasped. “That looks horrible. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“Just twisted my ankle. There’s a bit of bruising, but it’s nothing.” He pulled on his sock and boot and then cautiously stood but couldn’t manage to conceal a grimace. “I thought Jim was off to see Cambria.”
Rebecca shrugged. “She must have been gone, because he’s at the house.” She took a step closer. “Why don’t you let me have a look at that ankle.”
“No. It’s fine.”
Chavive nudged Rebecca’s shoulder. She turned and smoothed the horse’s damp neck with her gloved hand. “It’s wonderful to have Chavive here.” Her eyes settled on Daniel. “Thank you for buying her for me. I’m still overwhelmed by all you did to get her here.”
“You’re worth any amount of effort.” Daniel studied the animal. “And she’s a fine animal.”
Rebecca kissed Daniel again. “Thank you. It’s wonderful to ride again.”
Rebecca’s beauty and energy suddenly overwhelmed Daniel. He’d never known anyone like her. He hugged her. “I’m so glad you’re mine.”
“We belong to each other.” Rebecca smiled. “Today is grand. I feel alive, more like myself.”
“And where’s Joseph? Mum watching him?”
“No. Actually, Callie is. She and Joseph seem to get along quite nicely. Your mother and Aunt Mildred are supervising, of course.”
“Right. They’re smitten.” Daniel grinned. “I believe Mum sees my brother in him.”
“Yes. She’s told me so.”
Daniel let his eyes roam over the dry creek bed. “Elton and I used to ride ’ere. The open ground made for a perfect track. Course, in those days during this time of year there was a stream flowing through the channel.”
“I wish I had known Elton.”
“You would have liked him. He was a fine mate.”
“And if he were here today, he’d probably want to know why you’re out here—alone.”
“No. He’d understand—I belong ’ere; we both did once.” Daniel mounted with only slight difficulty. He settled in the saddle and with a smile said, “Come on, then.”
Rainless clouds moved in and shaded Daniel and Rebecca as they rode. Rebecca forgot her worries. Being on Chavive’s back again seemed to set her world in order. And today was better than most days—Daniel was beside her.
They rode a long while. Daniel was quieter than usual, barely responding to Rebecca’s remarks and questions. Finally she asked, “Is something troubling you?”
“No.”
“You’re very quiet. Are you in pain?”
“Nah. I’m fine.”
Rebecca reined in Chavive and waited until Daniel stopped. He turned around in the saddle and looked at her. “What is it?”
“Something’s wrong. And I’m not moving until you tell me what it is.”
Daniel turned his horse around and walked back to Rebecca. He didn’t say anything for a long while, then finally said, “I’m worried. The fall I took . . .”
“You said it wasn’t severe.”
“Right. I’m fine, but . . .”
“What is it, then?”
“I’ve been thinking about what you and Joseph would do if something happened to me.”
“But you’re fine. No worries. Isn’t that what you always say?”
Daniel offered her a crooked smile. “I have said that on occasion, but we have to be sensible—something could happen.” His horse bounced his head, and the bridle clinked. “Douloo is my responsibility now, and I don’t know what would happen if . . .”
�
��Nothing is going to happen to you. But if it did, Douloo would be fine. There are capable people to oversee the station. Your mother and I are reasonable, intelligent women. I’m sure we could come up with something. And of course, there’s Woodman. And Jim is a fine hand. Between the four of us, I’m certain we could hold this place together.”
Daniel wore a humorous smile. “Are you finished?”
“No. I’m not. You must trust the Lord, Daniel. He is forever at your side.”
“Right. I know. But sometimes it’s hard to hang on to faith. When you were sick . . . I was really scared.”
“I’m fine now. You can’t worry about the past.”
“Do you ever doubt that God is in control?”
Rebecca thought a moment. “Yes. But then I think back to all the troubles I’ve faced and how he’s always looked after me.”
“Sometimes my faith is right weak. I don’t know what I would do without you.” He reached across the space between the horses and took Rebecca’s hand.
She squeezed his hand and smiled. “I think we ought to have a bit of fun now and then.” She smiled mischievously, let go of his hand, and kicked Chavive in the sides. Chavive cantered ahead of Daniel and his stallion. “Are you up for a race?” Rebecca called over her shoulder.
Daniel spurred his stallion and quickly caught up to her, then charged past. Their troubles momentarily forgotten, the two raced across open grassland. At the edge of a dying stream, they reined in the horses and allowed them to drink.
In spite of his injury, Daniel helped Rebecca dismount. “You’re very good at riding astride.”
Rebecca grinned. “I can just see Elvina Walker’s face. She would be appalled.”
“Too right.” Daniel chuckled.
Rebecca squatted beside the stream and scooped up a handful of water. Her thirst satisfied, she wet a handkerchief and patted her face and neck and then sat in the grass along the bank. She leaned back on her hands. “We ought to return to the house.”
Daniel sat beside her, draped an arm over her shoulders, and pulled her close. “We don’t have to go back straightaway, do we?”
Recognizing his intentions, Rebecca blushed and said, “I suppose not.”
He kissed her ardently.
Rebecca hugged him tightly. “I love you, Daniel. Please try not to leave me so often.”
A mewling and yipping sound came from the base of a nearby gum tree.
“What’s that?” Rebecca asked. She studied burly roots beneath the eucalyptus. More yips emanated from the tree.
Daniel pushed to his feet and then helped Rebecca up. “Stay put,” he said and hobbled toward the sound. When only a few paces from the tree, he stopped and stared down at its exposed roots.
“What is it?”
“Dingo pups. By the looks of them, they’ve been deserted by their mother.”
“Oh, Daniel,” Rebecca said, joining him. She could see four scrawny, matted balls of fur. Shaking and mewling, the pups crawled over one another. One stopped and gazed at the intruders with wide eyes.
“Why do you think the mother left them?”
“Any number of reasons. She could have been sick or might have been killed. The drought could have driven her away—self-preservation is always the highest order.”
“I haven’t anything to carry them in. How will we ever get them home?”
Daniel didn’t answer right away. When he did, his voice was somber. “We aren’t taking them home.”
“But we can’t just leave the poor little things. They’ll die.”
Daniel set his jaw. “They may look cute now, but dingoes are a scourge—they kill livestock. The fewer of them, the better.”
“Daniel, we can’t leave them!” Rebecca moved toward the pups.
“Rebecca, stop.”
She continued.
“Stop. I demand you to stop!”
Rebecca turned and looked at Daniel. “You demand?”
“Yes. And you’ll listen. Saving those pups makes no sense.”
“They’re innocent babies.”
“No. They’re not. They will grow up to be calf killers and sheep killers.” He studied Rebecca a moment. “I’m having enough trouble making a place for myself in the district. The men around ’ere expect a lot from me. If I bring home a litter of dingo pups, I’ll be a laughingstock. I can’t afford to lose the blokes’ respect.”
Limping back to his horse, he withdrew a rifle from the saddle and walked toward the pups. “I want you to get on your horse and ride away,” he said evenly.
Horrified, Rebecca stared at him. “You can’t possibly . . .”
“Go. Now.” He didn’t look at her but stepped closer to the abandoned pups.
“Daniel, please don’t.”
He turned and stared at her. “We can’t save them, and neither will I let them suffer. Go.”
Shaking inside, Rebecca climbed onto Chavive’s back and turned toward home. At first she cantered and then broke into a run, hoping that the wind and speed could blot out what was coming.
Four shots echoed over the land.
Tears blurring her vision, Rebecca drove Chavive hard. How could Daniel be so cruel? I never thought of him as merciless.
Bertram’s words came back to her. “Daniel must be strong. And he needs someone at his side who will help him achieve that. A man can’t run a station without courage.”
Is this the kind of courage he was talking about? What of compassion?
She remembered the helpless pups, and fresh tears filled her eyes. Would God have saved them? She sucked in a ragged breath. Lord, if this is what it means to be strong, then I pray for weakness.
With Joseph resting on one hip, Rebecca stepped out of the house and onto the veranda. “Good morning, Mildred,” she said, still feeling some of the previous day’s melancholy. She couldn’t rid her mind of the slain pups.
“How are you this morning, dear? You look a bit down.”
“I’m fine.”
Mildred crossed her ankles and leaned back in the chair. “It’s rather nice and cool, isn’t it?”
“Yes. In fact, I had to throw an extra blanket on my bed last night. I hope we have more days like this.” She hitched Joseph up higher on her hip. “Has Thomas gone off with Daniel again?”
“Oh yes. Those two have taken to each other. Thomas really likes working with Daniel. If not for his business in Boston, I’m nearly convinced he’d remain here indefinitely.”
“And what about you? It’s been nearly four months since you arrived.”
Mildred feigned shock. “Are you suggesting I’ve overstayed my welcome?”
Rebecca chuckled. “Of course not. You can stay as long as you like. In fact, I’d love it if you would make this your permanent home.”
Mildred’s expression turned serious. “I have considered it. But this just isn’t home to me. I’ve been thinking of returning to Boston. After all, this has been a rather extended holiday. I’ve been delaying a decision; I’ll miss you terribly.”
“Why don’t you stay, then?”
“Oh, I couldn’t do that. I adore you and Joseph, and I feel as if Daniel’s family is mine, but I do have a life in Boston—family and friends, my church.” She looked out at the countryside. “Life here is very different. I’m not certain I could ever completely accept its harshness.”
Rebecca nodded, her mind returning to the pups. “I understand. I still find some things difficult to tolerate. And although I see beauty here, I still long for the lushness of Boston and sometimes even miss the bustle of the city.” She gently patted Joseph’s bottom. “Will Thomas be staying long?”
“I really don’t know. He mentioned that he has business waiting for him in Boston, but on the other hand, he did say that . . . well, that he is a patient man.”
“And what do you think he meant by that?”
Mildred smoothed a strand of hair back up into its chignon. “He wants to marry me. When I told him I couldn’t possibly make any prom
ises, he said he was a patient man. What do you think he meant?”
Rebecca smiled. “Oh my. That sounds as if he may stay for some time. That is, of course, if you do.”
“I can’t tear myself away just yet, and I must admit, I’d hate to see him go. I do enjoy his company. He’s a fine man.”
“He dotes on you. And he spends as much time as he can manage with you. I wish Daniel and I were able to find more time to be together. Some days he’s gone before I rise, and all too often I’m asleep before he returns in the evening.”
“There’s no doubt Daniel wants to be with you, Rebecca. I can see the love in his eyes every time he looks at you. Overseeing a station this size is a great responsibility and a difficult one for a young man. Do be patient with him.”
“I understand, truly. I only wish he didn’t have to work so hard.” Rebecca shifted Joseph to her right shoulder and covered him with a blanket that she had draped over her other shoulder.
Moving to the railing, she thought of Boston. There had always been some special event taking place, something to stir her interest. And in New England the lushness never completely faded. The seashore had been one of her favorite places. Her mind carried her back to her retreat on her father’s estate where she could look out over forested hills and valleys marked with open patches of cultivated land and beyond to the sea that lay like an iridescent gem. I haven’t seen the ocean since first arriving in Brisbane more than a year ago, she realized.
Rebecca glanced at her aunt. Perhaps she could accompany her when she returned home. A visit might do her some good. However, the idea of leaving Daniel to cope alone seemed heartless.
The ache of homesickness settled in her chest as she realized more clearly that her life was here now. When Daniel inherited Douloo, the station had forever become home. Gazing at the dry surroundings, Rebecca said, “If only the clouds would drop some moisture. We had almost no rain all summer, and now even though the temperatures are cooling and there are clouds, there’s still no rain.”
Joseph whimpered and snuggled closer. Rebecca looked down at him. “Are you sleepy? Do you want to go to bed?” His bright blue eyes focused on his mother.
