Unable to wait any longer, she adopted what she hoped was a casual tone, "So, whose residence will you be living in during your stay here?"
"I think you already know the answer to that. I could no sooner see myself living in the household of any of those ladies than I could see myself living in the original sister's accommodation you showed me last night. But if I'm to stay with you and your brother, I need to know what's going on." Katherine turned and faced Catriona. "I don't know what one has done to the other, but you and Mrs. Greystone, and the rest of the ladies' committee for that matter, are rather cool toward each other."
"I'll tell you when we get home." Catriona remained calm, but inside, she was elated. She'd felt sure her over-reaction that morning would have resulted in Katherine being more than willing to pack her belongings and move into town. How had she managed to do it? Those women, whom she thought of as bloody cattle ticks, could be very convincing when they wanted to be. Catriona would bet money that they'd badgered her non stop on why she wasn't married. But how could Catriona explain that to her?
PULLING THROUGH THE gate to the property, Katherine had her first real glance of the Gleneagle homestead. That morning she'd been too engrossed in preparing herself for her wagon lesson and her trip into town to take much notice. To the front of her were two main buildings and a selection of lesser-sized huts.
"Your house is lovely."
"Thank you."
Katherine pointed. "What are those buildings there?"
Catriona motioned with her head. "The one with the window, closest to the house, is a laundry. The other without the windows, with a conical roof is our smokehouse or curing shed. Unfortunately it's one of the only ways we can manage keep meat from going off in this climate. And that final structure is obviously the barn."
"Your home fits in so much better than Mrs. Greystone's residence. Hers looks more like a city house than one suitable for the country."
Catriona shrugged. "There's no accounting for taste." She brought the wagon to a halt. "I'll help you off here if you like."
Katherine took Catriona's hand. "Would you like a hand unharnessing the horse? If I'm to use the wagon then shouldn't I learn what to do?"
"I'm fine. There'll be time tomorrow for your next lesson. Why don't you head on inside?"
Catriona continued toward the barn and Katherine turned to face the house in front of her. The sun's rays reflected off the cream sandstone brick of the home, casting long shadows on the verandah which, in turn, afforded shade from the heat of the afternoon's sun. The main entry was flanked by full-length, green louvered French windows, and these continued around the house at regular intervals. The roof, which extended out from the house to meet the edge of the verandah, was covered in corrugated iron sheeting. "Yes," she nodded. "It fits perfectly in this setting."
OVER A CUP of tea, Catriona listened while Katherine regaled her with her tales of her escape from the town's matriarchs. "I'm impressed. I wish I was as quick-witted as you. Sometimes I think I rely too much on my harsh tongue to resolve a situation."
"You don't say? Maybe that's what the matriarchs are afraid of," Katherine soberly replied, and her face broke into a grin. "Seriously though, what's happened between you and them? They're terribly worried by your potential influence on me. And they seem obsessed with getting you into a dress."
"As I mentioned there are currently no workers on the farm, leaving myself and Alexander to manage the property except during harvest-time and mustering," Catriona carefully explained, her tone non-committal. "He's often away on business, and this leaves me responsible for the farm's day-to-day management. It wouldn't be right for me to sit here in a dress all day and employ a man on work I can easily do. What I can't accomplish waits until Alexander's return, or I ask one of the men in town to help me."
"They're also incredibly focused on getting you married." Katherine took a sip from her tea. "They were most concerned by your lack of suitors."
Catriona nearly choked on her biscuit. She'd expected such a question, but hadn't anticipated it being posed so bluntly. She'd expected an obscure reference to her age and the number of suitors seeking her hand. She reached for her tea, under the pretence of washing down the remains of her biscuit from a throat suddenly bereft of all moisture. Placing her cup down, she chose her words carefully.
"I'm twenty-eight, and I know by now I should've found someone to share the rest of my life with. In fact, a long while ago I thought I had. I was seventeen and my mother felt the age difference between my suitor and myself was--er, too great, so she forbade the relationship. Since then I haven't found any one else who I feel strong enough to commit my life to. And, at this point in time, I'm comfortable with where I am, and what I have."
Catriona was pleased with her answer, feeling it to be as truthful as she chose to be at this moment. Given the chance, Catriona would have been more than content to spend the rest of her life with Adele. If only her mother hadn't interfered. Now, thank God, there was no one to interfere. Even Alexander had given up raising the matter with her. Catriona's life was hers to do with as she pleased. She looked up to see Katherine gazing intently at her.
"I understand completely."
Catriona was incredulous. "You do?" She barely stopped herself from spilling the remaining contents of her cup on the table.
"I was also in a similar situation. My family was forcing me into marriage based on my age. I was twenty-two at the time. Unfortunately, or fortunately, as fate would have it, I was left at the altar by my husband-to-be. He eloped with a younger girl who possessed a significantly larger dowry than mine. I admittedly had no want to marry and discovered the solace I sought through taking my vows. This saved me from further marriage suitors, which my mother would have undoubtedly pursued for me, as well as providing me inner peace and comfort."
Catriona masked her feelings, inwardly cursing herself to think they shared the same reason for an unwillingness to marry. She was taken by Katherine's story all the same. Joining a convent would be one way to avoid an unhappy marriage, but the celibacy issue was something Catriona couldn't reconcile to, despite the fact she'd been emotionally celibate for the last eleven years. It had been so long, she'd almost forgotten how it felt to love another woman, and that was something not likely to be resolved in the near future.
"You've nothing to fear from my influence. The women in town find my values unpalatable because I won't allow myself to be compartmentalised like them. Ignorance will always breed fear, and I think their fear masks a dislike of anything different." Catriona cleared the table. "Enough said. There are chores to do in the yard. I'd be grateful if you helped me."
Katherine rose. "I'd be happy to."
"Thank you." Catriona reached for her hat. "After that I think you'll have well and truly earned your supper." She motioned Katherine into the yard and the fading light of an orange-red sunset.
Chapter Five
KATHERINE LEANT BACK from her kneeling position, onto her heels, and wiped the tip of her nose. She would have never guessed, since her arrival, that she'd still need to clean the parlour's fireplace. Yet despite the passage of time and the advent of warmer days, the evening temperatures were still sufficiently low to warrant the occasional fire. She looked up when the parlour door opened.
Catriona placed two glasses of water on one of the occasional tables in the room and laughed. "Have you been cleaning the fire or communing with it?"
Katherine looked at her soot-marked hands. She stood and gazed at the mirror to the left of the mantelpiece. Pulling a handkerchief from her belt, she wet it with the tip of her tongue and wiped her nose free of the ashes in temporary residence there. "I never was a clean cleaner, if you know what I mean. Somehow I always manage to transfer the dirt from where it is and on to me." She picked up the glass of water and took a sip. "Thank you. I think I have as much soot down my throat as on my hands."
Catriona sat. "Don't worry. You haven't yet seen me clean a fireplace. Let me te
ll you, it's not very pretty."
The two shared a laugh and Katherine sat next to her. "I can't believe how time has flown. It feels like only yesterday I was getting off the train."
"Time does that out here," Catriona said. "Is it what you expected?"
Katherine tilted her head. "In all honesty, I'm not sure I knew what I was getting myself in for. I thought the majority of my time would be spent with my religious calling. Instead, it plays an equal role with my work with the children. Although I must admit I was surprised, when I visited the outlying farms, to find not all of families attended regular Sunday services."
"Most of them are God-fearing folk. But, when you work from dawn to dusk, and the only day you have off is Sunday, sometimes it's nice to spend it at home, resting for the week ahead." She tapped Katherine's sleeve. "I did tell you things were a bit different out here."
"That you did. I'm glad they do spend some time reading passages on a Sunday, even if it is at home."
"I was at the co-op the other day, and you were being talked about in very glowing terms. Apparently you treated a bad cut on one of the Connor children."
Katherine shrugged. "Thankfully I was taught the rudimentary elements of first aid by the sisters, prior to me leaving Ireland. My being there to treat the cut was sheer luck. I just happened to be giving lessons to the Connor children."
"Your teaching was also mentioned. You've gained a good reputation with the less fortunate families of the district. The other day I heard Mrs. Daniel say she'd never seen her son Tom sit and listen for so long."
Katherine smiled. "I enjoy teaching the children very much, especially given there's no local school for them to attend. I have to say, I'm disappointed there's no library in the district. With the exception of your books, and some of Susan's, I'm running out of appropriate reading material for the children."
Catriona sipped her water. "Didn't you write to the convent about getting some children's books, as well as placing an order with Susan for some books from Sydney?
"Yes, and it took half of my money to do so. It'll be worth it though, if just to see the look on their faces. In fact, I'm heading to the Daniel place this morning, and I thought I'd pay a quick visit to Susan. Is there anything you need?"
Catriona looked at Katherine, her glass midway between the table and her lips. "I, er don't think so." She rose. "Tell Susan I said hello."
Katherine frowned when Catriona left the room. Sometimes she thought her enigmatic housemate meant to say something more, but then she didn't. She finished her water, picked up the dust pan and hand brush, and returned to the task at hand.
DRIVING THE WAGON through town, Katherine was relieved to see that, at last, the town was beginning to regain its semblance of normality. People still mourned the loss of friends and family, but this was to be expected. She wished the father would return, if for no other reason than to properly bless the dead. She pulled the wagon to the front of Susan's store and applied the brake, then headed up the stairs. She stood to one side while a group of people left the store, goods in hand.
Walking in, Katherine glanced at the customers Susan was serving. She searched her memory for their names, knowing them to be the family of one of the less fortunate farmers. Mrs. McCallen. And her young daughter Eliza, from the west side of town. Susan passed sacks of flour, sugar, and beans to the woman, and yet no money exchanged hands. After a courteous nod to Mrs McCallen, Katherine quickly retired to the far end of the store, to afford mother and daughter some privacy.
"Good morning Katherine," Susan said as the door closed behind a departing Mr McCallen. "How are you?"
Katherine put down the dainty handkerchief she'd been admiring. "I'm fine, thank you. Your shop certainly is a thriving business. I was nearly knocked down by the rush of people as I was coming in."
"As the town's people get back on their feet, they need to restock and refurnish their homes." Susan wiped a trace of flour from her counter. "It's been a very busy few weeks." She walked around the counter and picked up the handkerchief Katherine was admiring. "You've impeccable taste. This fringe is imported French lace."
"It's lovely."
Susan held it out. "Would you like it?"
A handkerchief as fine as that would about take the remainder of her funds. Katherine held up her hand. "No thank you. The ones I have are fine."
"Please take it, as a present from me to you, and from the families you've done so much for since you arrived. Besides, everyone deserves to be spoilt every now and then."
Despite the benevolence of Susan's gesture, Katherine was frustrated at her inability to purchase the item outright. Not reaching for the handkerchief, she attempted to redirect the conversation.
"I don't mean to sound forward, but why are you so reluctant to accept my money? After all, I was supplied with funds by the convent. In fact, I saw you do the same thing with Mrs. McCallen a moment ago. You wouldn't take her money either."
Susan placed the handkerchief back on the shelf. "Out here, payment on receipt of goods isn't the only way I do business. Most of my customers must await the outcome of the sale of their crops or cattle before settling their annual accounts. And besides," Susan winked, "I've always had a terrible time keeping my books. When settlement time comes around, the families always seem to be able to pay me in full and yet have money left over for the nicer things in life."
"How do you run a successful business like that? Surely this must leave you in poverty for the better part of the year. How do you manage to pay your creditors?"
Susan lightly patted Katherine's cheek. "I like you. You remind me a lot of Sister Coreen. She was always asking questions, never quite realising what was impolite to ask." Susan sobered. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bring her up."
Katherine smiled sadly. "It's all right. I believe people should remember her for who she was. As for me, the nuns were forever cautioning me against my outspokenness. In fact, it's a good thing I'm a nun. I don't expect any husband would endure my incessant questions. I'm sorry to be so intrusive."
"I don't mind. Women should be able to ask questions. There are three ways I manage to stay out of the poor house. The first and more widely used means is through a system of barter. I do this with families who wish to purchase something in exchange for items such as eggs, milk, and sometimes cured or fresh meat from an animal they've recently slaughtered. I then deduct what we both agree is a reasonable sum from their final account. This, in turn, reduces my living costs. The second way is I treat the hard-working families differently, as you've just seen. They give me what they can, when they can. As for the well-established landowners who refuse to raise a finger for those who struggle to make a living, that's a different kettle of fish." Susan's eyes glinted with barely concealed anger. "As far as I'm concerned, for them there's only one mode of payment----on demand."
"If only more people were as benevolent as you, particularly those who seem to have a wealth of riches and yet are still reluctant to use it on anyone but themselves."
"Speaking of money, you may be surprised to know, even before I bought this store, I was a woman of independent means." She chuckled. "Close your mouth Katherine, or you'll catch flies. I don't have a husband, but this wasn't always so. I was once married to a man who loved money more than anything. We arrived in Sydney when I was barely twenty and he immediately set about making money in any scheme that was profitable. His real luck came when gold was discovered in Sofala. He wasn't lured, like so many were, by the promise of gold. He gained his fortune by selling pieces of equipment needed by the miners to find the precious metal. He sold these tools at exorbitant prices and, like most men, his greed consumed him. One day he pushed his luck too far and was killed by a digger down on his luck and desperate for just a respite from his lot in life. Unfortunately the miner got neither, ending his life at the end of a rope. I took the strongbox, which was rightfully mine, sold the store and provisions to another man, and left. Rather than return to Sydney, which I deteste
d, I opted for a burgeoning country town, comfortable in the financial knowledge I'd never have to marry again."
"You don't want to remarry?" Katherine looked at Susan. Her complexion had not yet been ravaged by the harsh climate, like she'd seen with so many other women in the town. "You're still a relatively young woman. I'm sure there'd be many gentlemen in the district more than happy to marry you."
Susan smiled and furtively glanced at the stairs leading to the second level of her store. "I've had a number of offers, but the memories of my marriage aren't happy ones. My husband wasn't a kindly man. He found no wrong in hitting a woman. Nor was he content with the love of one. He was a regular in the local watering hole, or as you would call it a tavern, and a favourite of the professional women who worked there. I'm not saying all men are cut from the same cloth, but my life now has different priorities. Finding another husband is not one of them."
"I'm continually surprised by the women of this town. Catriona's so strong and confident with the men she deals with, and you're self-sufficient."
Susan again picked up the handkerchief and placed it in Katherine's hand. "I'm self-sufficient enough to offer a gift to a friend. And, while we're talking about my financial independence..." Susan opened her strong box, took out a note, and placed it in Katherine's hand, closing Katherine's fingers over them. "Here's half the cost of the books you've ordered from Sydney."
Katherine's eyes widened. "You can't do that."
"Of course I can, and I won't accept the money back." Susan lowered her voice, when another customer entered the store. "If the funds given to Sister Coreen by the convent were anything to go by, then I'm more than aware how much money you were given."
"Thank you," Katherine replied, fighting back tears. "I won't forget this."
IN THE COOL of the evening, as they sat on the verandah, Katherine relayed the events at the store to Catriona. "I didn't realise Susan was so financially independent."
And Those Who Trespass Against Us Page 7
