by Bonnie Leon
“I want that too.” A soft smile touched his lips. “We’ll come ’ere again.”
“That would be nice.” Rebecca released his hand and took a sip of her coffee. With a grimace, she held the cup away from her. “But no coffee next time. It’s quite strong.” She set down the cup. “I heard from him.”
“From who?”
“Mr. O’Neill. You know, the horse trader we met at the races.”
Daniel nodded. “Right. I remember.”
“I wrote to him. And he’s invited us to his home.”
“It seems he’s got a good reputation, but it’s quite a trip to Roma. Seems a long way to go for a horse.”
“You’d make the trip if you had an interest in a prize bull.”
“Right. I would at that.” Daniel furrowed his brows. “I don’t know that I feel good about you taking on that horse.”
“I thought you were in favor of buying him? Is it the money?”
“No. We’re good on that count, for now anyway. He’s a fine animal, but . . .”
“Daniel, we’ve already talked about this. I can train him to work the cattle.” Rebecca moved her plate aside and rested her arms on the table. “And can you see us—you on the stallion and me on Chavive? We’d be a striking pair. And any foals they produce will be grand.”
“You sure it won’t be too much for you? Taking care of the baby and working with the horses? You’ve already got quite a lot to do.”
“No. Of course not. It would be fun. I don’t think I’d be putting in much more time than I do now.”
“Right.” He looked down at his hands, which rested on either side of his plate. “It’s probably not a good idea to buy stock right now. The drought’s getting worse.”
“He’s not just stock. He’s special.”
Daniel picked up his knife and fork and sawed at his meat. “You’re being stubborn, Rebecca. I’d like to buy him, but sometimes we’ve just got to be reasonable.”
“Are you saying I’m not?”
“No. But what are you going to do if we have to sell off the stock, including the stallion?”
“It won’t come to that. I’m sure of it.”
Daniel rested serious eyes on Rebecca. “You haven’t been through an Australian drought. You haven’t seen what it can do.”
“That’s true, but I know God will take care of us no matter what we have to face.”
Daniel let out a long breath. “And sometimes he just wants us to be practical.”
Rebecca held her breath and waited, then finally asked, “So can we go and look at the stallion?”
“Yes, but I’m not promising anything.”
“You already promised.” Rebecca folded her hands in front of her, fighting for calm.
“I didn’t.”
“Yes, Daniel, you did. When we saw him at the track, you told me we could buy him.”
Daniel studied her. “If you recall, I never said we’d buy him, only that I would consider it. I want to have another look at him. It’s never wise to make rash decisions.”
“I seriously doubt that waiting for weeks would make this a rash decision. You and Woodman have looked into Mr. O’Neill’s character, and we’ve already seen the horse. I’m going to buy him.”
Daniel squared his jaw and in a loud voice said, “We’ll buy him if I say we can.”
People turned to look.
Rebecca glanced about the café and then stared down at her hands. Controlling her own temper, she said, “Please, lower your voice. People are staring.”
Silence hung over Daniel and Rebecca. Daniel returned to eating. Rebecca sipped her coffee, now unaware of its bitterness.
Finally Daniel said, “We must make important decisions together.”
“All right. We’ll have a look at him and then decide.”
Daniel set his fork on his plate. With a shake of his head, he said, “I don’t know . . . I have a bad feeling, Rebecca. Something’s not right.”
Nerves on edge, Rebecca climbed into the surrey. Daniel followed and sat beside her. Thomas and Mildred were already seated in the back. Today the four would travel to Roma, where Daniel and Rebecca would meet with Collin O’Neill and take another look at the stallion.
Seated so she could look into the backseat, Rebecca said, “I’m so glad you two are coming with us.”
Thomas smiled. “It makes for an adventure.” His brown eyes settled on Mildred. “I’m all for adventures.”
“When we get to Roma, I’d rather do some shopping than look at horses. Do you mind if I stay in town while you go out to Mr. O’Neill’s?” Mildred asked.
“No, Auntie. Not at all. But I don’t want you out on your own.”
“I’ll be more than happy to escort Mildred about town,” Thomas said.
Woodman flicked the reins and clicked his tongue, and the horses set out. Rebecca looked at the porch where Willa stood, Joseph in her arms. It had been decided that the baby would stay. Rebecca felt a pang of regret but managed to smile and wave. “Good-bye. I’ll be back tomorrow,” she called.
Willa lifted Joseph’s arm and waved for him. “Say bye-bye.”
Rebecca held on to her smile, then finally turned and settled back in her seat. Sooner or later he must get used to me being gone, she told herself. He’ll be fine. She looked at Mildred. “I think I miss him already. I’ve never left him before.”
“I’m sure it’s not easy for you, but I’d say it’s good for a mother to get out without her children now and again.” She looked at Daniel. “Don’t you think so, Daniel?”
“Right. They’ll both be better for it.”
“I suppose,” Rebecca said, unconvinced. She watched him as the surrey moved away. “Maybe we should bring him.”
“Nonsense,” Mildred said. “The trip will be tiring for him. He’ll be much happier at home.”
Daniel put an arm about Rebecca’s shoulders and pulled her close. “It will give us a bit of time alone, eh?”
Rebecca nodded and leaned against Daniel.
“I really must visit the millinery shop in Roma,” Mildred said. “They have some lovely hats.” She smiled. “Roma’s not a bustling city, but it does offer more than Thornton Creek. You don’t suppose they have an orchestra, do you?”
“No, Auntie. I’m sure not. But perhaps a minstrel show.” She gazed at her aunt. “You’re missing Boston, aren’t you?”
“I must admit, I am.” Mildred glanced at Thomas and then turned her gaze to the empty countryside.
For a while the foursome traveled in silence.
Growing bored and uncomfortable, Rebecca convinced Woodman to allow her to drive. Sitting beside him, she remembered how she’d tricked him into teaching her to handle a team when she’d planned her escape from Queensland and a return to America.
The feel of the reins in her hands and watching the muscled hindquarters of the Morgans brought back the morning’s events of the day she’d attempted to flee—that horrible moment when Bertram had fallen and been trampled. Rebecca closed her mind to the dreadful incident and concentrated on driving and on the countryside. Rain still had not come to the flats, and each passing mile revealed more of the drought and its cost—dry riverbeds, vultures feasting on dead livestock, sparse grass, and even gum trees that seemed withered.
Maybe Daniel’s right. Perhaps it’s not a good idea to buy a horse right now. She glanced back at her husband. His eyes were closed. He’d fallen asleep. “Woodman, you’ve never said a thing about our buying the stallion.”
“Not me business, mum.” He kept his eyes forward.
“I’d like your opinion.”
“It’s not for me ta say. This is yers and Daniel’s decision.” He picked up a canteen of water from the floor at his feet. “Daniel knows what he’s doing,” he said, unscrewing the lid and taking a drink.
Silence settled between the two. “I convinced him to have a look. And I’d like to know your opinion.”
Woodman took another drink, replaced th
e lid on the canteen, and set it back on the floor. Glancing at her, he rested his arms on his thighs. “Not a good time to buy a fancy horse, mum.”
“How so?”
“Drought gonna be bad.”
“How can you know?”
“Just do.”
Rebecca wanted to throttle Woodman. He always seemed to “just know.” If she listened to him, she was certain someone else would buy the stallion. “It’s just one horse,” she finally said.
“Roight. But ya’ll ’ave a lot of time inta trainin’, and then when things get bad ya’ll ’ave ta let ’im go . . . if ya can find someone ta buy ’im, that is. It’ll be hard on ya.” He went silent a moment, then continued. “And a horse like that needs a strong ’and.”
“I can be strong.”
Woodman smiled down at her. “I s’pose ya can be at that, mum.”
Midday, the group stopped to eat among a grove of acacia. A small stream cut across the open landscape and wound through the trees before trailing off through the grasslands.
“Not good,” Woodman said.
“What’s not good?” Mildred asked.
“This ’ere is usually big water.” He gazed at the rivulet. “Soon it’ll be dry.” He returned to eating his tucker.
“Are you certain?” Mildred asked.
“Certain as a man can be.”
Daniel drank from a canteen, washing down a bite of bread. “Never knew you to be wrong.”
Woodman settled his gaze on Mildred and Thomas. “Ya might want ta begin thinking ’bout takin’ that big boat back ta America. It’s gonna get mean ’round ’ere.”
All eyes turned to Mildred.
She fiddled with her collar. “I don’t know. I rather feel as if I belong here.”
“I’ll be staying on for a while,” Thomas said. “Some of the gentlemen in the district wanted me to have a look at their accounts. And I’m not afraid of a drought.”
“Do as ya please.” Woodman stood and grabbed the horses’ reins and led them to the stream.
Daniel walked along with him.
“I think I’ll freshen up a bit,” Mildred said, standing. She walked to the creek, knelt down, and dampened her handkerchief, then used it to pat her face and neck.
Wearing a frown, Thomas watched her. “I suppose I should go back to Boston. I don’t really belong here. But I keep hoping she’ll come around.”
“I thought things were better between you,” Rebecca said.
“Better, yes. But she’s still not given me an answer.” Thomas plucked a piece of dry grass. “How long should a fellow wait?” He looked at Rebecca, unable to disguise the pain he felt. “Mildred’s caught hold of my heart.”
Rebecca nodded slightly. “You must tell her, Thomas.”
“I have.”
“Tell her again.”
“I’m beginning to think she’ll never return to Boston. And . . .” His gaze roamed over the desolate countryside. “I don’t fit here. And I like Boston.” He nodded at Daniel and Woodman. “I’m not like them. They know this place. Sometimes I believe Woodman can hear the earth speak to him.”
“I believe he does.” Rebecca leaned back on her hands. Her eyes wandered to Mildred. “I don’t think you have to worry about Mildred staying. She loves Boston too. She’ll return in due time. Although I wish she’d stay.”
“I have a business in Boston . . . and limited finances. Soon I’ll be forced to return.” He studied Mildred as she knelt and ran a hand through the stream. “She’s a fine woman. I love her,” he added, his throat sounding tight. Glancing at Rebecca, he continued, “I’ve actually considered closing my business and remaining here . . . if that’s what she wants. I’d do it for her.” He shrugged. “But she won’t tell me what she wants.”
“You need to talk with her again. Perhaps she can tell you what she’s afraid of. I know she thinks highly of you.”
“I’ll give it a try,” he said, sounding discouraged.
Hat in hand, Collin O’Neill walked across the lobby of the Roma Hotel. He carried himself with confidence, giving the impression he was a bigger man than he actually was. Wearing a broad smile, he approached Daniel, extending a hand. “G’day. I hope you had a satisfactory journey.”
“It was fine.”
Collin turned to Rebecca. “And good to see you. I must say, I was surprised to receive your letter. It’s been a while since the races, and I figured you’d given up on the idea of buying Noble.”
“That’s a fine name,” Rebecca said.
“Right from the start the name fit him. He knew he was special. Stood up faster than any colt I’ve ever seen and was moving about his stall and meeting his admirers right off.” He smiled. “He’s a fine one.” Collin spat tobacco juice into a spittoon. “I’ve a few other horses you might be interested in—good, solid stock.”
“No,” Daniel said. “We’re just here to look at the roan.”
“Right, then. Shall we go out to my property and have a look? It’s not far.”
Collin’s home was like many in Queensland. It sat alone, huddling in meager shade provided from sparse shrubs and trees. Long and low-slung, it had a broad veranda that wrapped around two-thirds of the house. Corrals and barns were scattered over the dry acreage.
Collin moved toward a nearby paddock. “I’ve a fine mare ’ere.”
“We’re interested in the stallion,” Daniel said, irritation in his voice.
Ignoring Daniel’s comment, Collin stopped at the paddock where a handsome bay mare stood at a watering trough. “Name’s Miss. Good, solid mare—always been quite proper. She’s ready to foal in a month’s time. The sire’s a sturdy working horse. Won’t find a finer animal. As you can see, she’s powerful. Right good stock.”
The mare trotted around the enclosure as if she knew she was on display. Her gait was smooth and balanced.
Rebecca stepped up to the railing. “She’s a beauty.” The mare moved to Rebecca and rested her head against the top rung of the fence. Rebecca scratched the area between her ears and then smoothed the hair down the front of her face. Glancing at Daniel, she said, “Did I hear you tell Jim we needed a good cutting horse?”
“Yeah. We do, but that’s not why we’re ’ere.”
“I know, but she’s lovely and quite powerful looking. She and the foal would be fine additions. I can help train her and take care of the foal.”
Daniel leaned close to Rebecca and said quietly, “You have enough to do now. I really don’t see that—”
“I can do it. Please. She’s a fine horse.”
Respectfully Collin stepped away, allowing Daniel and Rebecca privacy.
“You want to buy her instead of the stallion?”
“No. In addition to.”
Daniel blew out an exasperated breath. “Rebecca, the drought. You know the trouble we’re facing.”
“One more horse won’t make a difference.”
“Two more.”
“If we have to, we’ll sell them. You said we could do that, right?”
“Right. Yes.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “All right.” He smiled his surrender. “As you wish. I hope it won’t be too much for you.”
Collin rejoined them. “So have you made a decision?”
“We’d like to include the mare in our purchase.” Rebecca caught Daniel’s eye. “That is, if we buy the stallion.”
“Good choice.” Collin smiled. “The stallion’s in the paddock back ’ere.” He led the way.
Rebecca’s nerves fairly popped. She’d admired the stallion since the first moment she’d seen him. It would be incredible to own him.
They walked to the enclosure. Rebecca’s excitement climbed when she got her first glimpse of the chestnut-colored roan. He was well muscled and balanced, obviously in top condition. “He’s a bit heavier than most race horses,” she said, trying to disguise her enthusiasm.
“Right. But it hasn’t slowed him down a bit. You saw him race.”
“He was fast
, all right,” Daniel said. “But we’re looking for a horse that can do more than run. He’s got to be smart and hold up to a day’s work.”
“This isn’t a workhorse, Mr. Thornton. You don’t mean to put him in a harness do you?”
“No. But I’ll be riding him, and the station’s large. Also, we drive herds south for sale. He’ll need stamina.”
“He’s got that, all right.”
Collin grabbed a handful of grain from a bin and extended it in his hand. “Noble. Come on, lad.” The animal trotted toward Collin. His gait was balanced and light. He pressed his nose into the outstretched hand and, with a smacking of his lips, licked up the grain.
Rebecca squeezed between the corral boards and leaned out to pat him. He shied slightly. “Steady, boy.” She ran a hand over his neck. He quieted. When the grain was gone, he sniffed her arm. Rebecca caressed his silky nose. He nickered and then nuzzled her. “He’s quite friendly, isn’t he?”
“Right, but he’s got a lot of spirit.”
“Can you lead him out?” Daniel asked. He stood tall, his arms folded over his chest.
Collin stepped into the paddock, clipped a lead on the stallion’s halter, and led him out of the gate. The horse flicked his tail, moving nimbly.
Rebecca studied him. He had good lines. Running a hand along his side, down his flanks, and then along his legs, she noticed he remained calm. She detected no weaknesses.
“Could you lunge him for us?” Daniel asked.
“Right.” Collin got a lunge line, and the horse galloped around the arena.
Rebecca was more convinced that she wanted him. His gait was smooth and uniform. She looked at Daniel. “What do you think?”
“He’s a fine animal,” Daniel said, admiration lighting his eyes.
Rebecca knew Daniel had been won over.
He took the lunge line from Collin and worked with the horse a few minutes, then brought him to a walk and approached the animal. Running a hand over his glistening coat, he said, “You’re a fine one, all right.” He patted his neck. “How much you want for him?”
Daniel leaned on the table and stared down at his plate of eggs. He was nearly too tired to eat.
“Is there somethin’ wrong with the food?” Lily asked.
