Absolution Creek (16 page)

Jack manoeuvred his horse through a clump of tight spiky-leafed trees. The postal rider Adams called them belahs, and they dotted this part of Absolution like hairs on his arm. The whippy branches yanked at his shirt and hat. Sticky cobwebs were an added obstacle. It was with relief that Jack reined Pat out towards open country again.

When Pat reared, Jack was ill-prepared. He slipped to the ground with a hard crunch, landing solidly on his back. Some feet away the mare reared again and struck out fiercely with her front hoofs. Jack stood shakily. He collected his hat from the dirt, watching as Pat kept striking at the ground. Whatever it was, the mare was clearly frightened. He glanced at the rifle holstered by the saddle. ‘Hey, girl, are you right?’

The mare’s ears twitched as Jack took hold of the reins. On the ground was a large brown snake, its hoof-shredded body already attracting ants. Taking hold of its tail, Jack stretched the creature out. It was nearly seven feet long.

‘You got a bit of a scare, that was all.’ Jack inspected the mare’s fetlocks, pausing at the coronet where the front leg merged into the hoof. He couldn’t see any bite marks and from what he’d read there would be a distinct puncture mark.
What he’d read
, Jack thought with disgust. Everything he knew about the bush came from a book. Sometimes he wondered if it was enough. Mounting up he turned the mare homeward. It was a ride to the hut – at least four miles. The horse grew slower, finally dropping to the ground halfway home, her back legs kicking out, her breathing ragged. Jack patted the mare’s neck and then set about undoing the saddle and removing the bridle. There wasn’t anything to do except wait until she breathed her last, so Jack sat in the dirt as she shuddered and whinnied, her hind legs striking haltingly at the hollowed-out dirt. An hour later she was dead.

The landscape looked washed out and vacant in the growing heat. Jack slung his rifle and waterbag over his shoulder and slid his father’s Bible down his shirt front. Perspiration blurred his vision and he wiped a hand across aching eyes. At dusk he would return with the pack horse to collect the hog-skin saddle and bridle. For now he concentrated on the road home, as crows cried out soullessly above. So much for his dreams of rising to be a respected squatter. At the moment Jack just hoped to survive.

Chapter 12

‘Y
ou’re looking well.’

Ellen sported a red cardigan, woollen skirt, and a rarely seen slash of lipstick on her thinning mouth. ‘I’m having lunch in town today,’ she announced to Cora, scraping dirt from her heels at the back gate.

‘Well, good for you.’ Cora was expecting James at any moment. Horse had gone off his feed and she wanted him checked out.

‘I finished the house; it’s in tiptop shape.’ Ellen gave a satisfied smile. ‘Now that I’m close to being officially off the payroll I wanted to say to you that I have never once considered you to be quirky in nature –’

‘However?’ Cora wondered if Ellen would seize the opportunity for one final rebuke. She was the type of woman adept at point-scoring and if queried on any matter inevitably responded as if she were being poked in the chest. While Cora remained confident Ellen’s personality was formed well before her arrival at Absolution Creek, she was equally convinced Harold’s wife found employment here quite beneath her.

‘However, the tree has always been one thing that I’ve considered to be unusual.’

‘Apart from my nocturnal jaunts?’ Cora loved to antagonise Ellen.

Ellen fiddled with the fine chain around her neck.

‘Many would no doubt agree with you,’ Cora continued, as Curly and Tripod snuffled past to lie in the shade of the meat-house eaves.

‘Anyway, if you need me, I’m only a phone call away and I promise to give Meg some pointers over the next couple of weeks until she gets the run of things. After that you’ll find me at the Town and Country Club, arranging flowers and playing bridge.’

Cora wished she could be a fly on the wall at the Club. Ellen Morrisey was not quite one of the establishment in the committee’s eyes and it appeared she’d only passed muster due to a maiden aunt’s daughter marrying a prominent pastoralist some thirty years earlier. Nevertheless she was in the door, whereas Cora would never be Club material. Ellen’s cheeks coloured as Cora thanked her for her help over the years. Theirs had been a less than cordial relationship at times.

Cora took her boots off at the back door as Ellen drove off. This was the beginning of the transition from lone household inhabitant to instant family. The arrival of the Bell family was certainly changing the landscape and Cora was beginning to realise that it probably wasn’t a popular decision. Although Ellen was pleased to be retiring, her husband had apparently complained to his wife at the loss of income. Ellen was, in fact, casualty number one in the Bell saga and despite their differences Cora would be sorry to see her go. There was little to be done about the situation, however, for she didn’t need two housekeepers and nor could she afford to pay for such. Casualty two, in Harold’s eyes, was Kendal, and she couldn’t help wondering if the Bells’ imminent arrival had somehow stymied Harold’s future aspirations in regards to his family’s involvement on Absolution. Cora was still considering the altered arrangements on Absolution when James’s vehicle drew up at the back gate.

‘So then, we’re expecting visitors?’ he queried, cracking a toothy smile as he walked up the path.

He always did look good, Cora mused, noting her own saddle-greasy moleskins.

James looked at his watch. ‘Yep, you’re dead on. I’m ready for a cuppa and a scone myself.’

Cora rolled her eyes. ‘You better come in. How’s Horse?’

James took a seat at the kitchen table as Cora stoked up the Aga with a log from the pile on the floor.

‘He’s got a small abscess on a tooth. I syringed it, but it will probably be a bit tender for a few days.’

‘Thanks, James. I appreciate you looking at him.’ The kettle hummed on the stove top as Cora set cups and saucers on the table. The scones were cooling, the radio was playing softly and a stew was warming on the slow-cooking plate.

‘So then, how have you been? Ellen tells me you have rels coming to stay.’

Cora made the tea, strong and black, and plonked the scones that were now cooling in the tea-towel-lined colander in the centre of the table. ‘Well, we’ve had a few changes recently. Ellen’s retiring and Kendal’s coming back for a few months.’ Cora added cheese to the table’s contents.

James stretched his legs out as if playing lord of the manor, and gave a groan. ‘Not that little twerp?’

‘The one and only.’

‘How’d you manage –?’

‘Don’t ask,’ Cora interrupted. She knew that if she explained that Harold had insisted, James would wonder about the control Absolution’s manager held, and Cora wasn’t ready to talk about her reluctance to put Harold offside. It was difficult enough to find staff and nigh impossible to retain someone of Harold’s ability when Cora Hamilton was in charge.

James took the hint. ‘What’s the go with the relatives?’

‘They’re on their way from Sydney now.’

‘I know how you love your space, Cora, so I have to wonder about you having them to stay.’

‘Why do I have to justify my actions to you?’ Cora placed a heaped teaspoon of sugar in her cup. ‘I seem to recall that we’re no longer an item.’

James leant back in the wooden chair. ‘We slept together more than a dozen times before we were officially an item in the district’s eyes. By my count we’ve been outing for four years, although, considering I can count on one hand the number of times we’ve been together in public, maybe
outing
isn’t the right word.’

Cora opened her mouth to speak.

‘And, Miss Hamilton, during those four years you broke off our relationship three times, argued with me more than necessary and generally became a right pain in the arse.’

‘But –’

‘And now we’re having another
break, w
hich seems pretty ridiculous when we both love each other.’

Cora threw her head back in exasperation. ‘What is it with you? Can you never take no for an answer?’

James looked as if he were seriously considering her question. He took a sip of tea and then bit into a dry scone. ‘Butter and jam would be good on these.’

‘Anything to stop an argument.’ Cora fetched the butter and jam, then plates, knives and a jam spoon. She dug around in a rarely opened drawer before finally locating butterfly-patterned paper serviettes.

‘Now we’re talking. Did anyone ever tell you you’re a right little scone burner?’

Without hesitating, Cora lifted a scone and pelted it at James’s head. The doughy ball hit him clean on the nose.

James brushed crumbs off his thick grey jumper and picked the scone up off the floor. ‘Well, that’s lovely, that is.’ Dolloping strawberry jam on the former missile he stuffed the entire half in his mouth. A smidgen of jam clung to his lip and he slowly licked the sticky blob.

‘You’re incorrigible,’ Cora said.

‘Come back to me,’ he said softly. ‘I miss you.’

Cora clipped the saucer with her teacup. Flustered, she dabbed at the spilt liquid with a serviette.

‘Cora, you know you mean the world to me.’

She closed her eyes. ‘Please don’t do this.’

‘Why not? I know you still care.’

‘Relationships – I’m just no good at them.’

James gave an easy smile. ‘What are you afraid of?’

‘Nothing.’ Cora took a small bite of her scone, her appetite non-existent.

Resting his elbows on the table James stared at her. ‘One day you’ll tell me.’

For a moment Cora considered doing just that, but the words floated unintelligibly and she ended her brief attempt with a shrug of hopelessness. James wouldn’t understand. How could she expect him to?

‘Anyway, I started this relationship. I don’t see why I have to agree to ending it just to appease you.’

‘What? You have to agree to it because I don’t want to be in it any more,’ Cora argued.

‘That’s a poor excuse.’

Cora laughed as she poured more tea. ‘James, please listen to me.’

‘I have, on more than one occasion, and you’re wrong.’

‘I’m wrong?’

‘Yes, it does happen. You can’t be right all the time. Now I can hear
your
brain ticking over.’ James made a show of dabbing at the corners of his mouth with a serviette, before realising his finger was sticking through the paper. ‘Okay, let me appeal to your business mind. Don’t think about us as a relationship, think about us as a business.’

Cora had to hand it to him, he was nothing if not persistent.

‘Apart from the fact that we’re good together, which is a given –’ he paused for emphasis ‘– if we put your eight thousand acres with my twenty we’d have a fairly handy property. Add that to the fact that you do care for me even if you won’t admit it, you have to agree the scenario’s pretty attractive.’ He screwed up the serviette and with a cricketer’s flourish overarmed the paper into the sink.

‘It is. I particularly like the part where I’m running this empire, including the share owned by your city-based siblings, while you return full-time to your vet stuff and spend your days sticking your arm up the backsides of neighbours’ cows.’

‘I’m not going back to the veterinary practice. You know that. Sure, I help the odd neighbour out occasionally, but really, Cora, I’m being serious. With my mother’s death and none of my siblings interested in coming back to work Campbell Station, there’s only me left on the property. If Dad hadn’t died so long ago things may have been different.’ He gazed momentarily out the kitchen window. ‘Anyway, it’s nearly three years since Mum passed on.’

‘I know you miss her.’ Cora rattled cups and saucers together and began stacking the crockery on the sink. ‘I’m sorry I never got the chance to meet her, although I realise she didn’t share my feelings.’

‘Anyway,’ James persisted. ‘Forget love. Every time the word hovers around your general vicinity you go cold, so let’s go the business route. Hey, if you were interested, with your land we’d have enough collateral to buy out my sisters.’

Cora puffed air into her cheeks. ‘They’ve chosen a different life. I really don’t see why they deserve an entitlement in return for zero contribution. Anyway, why don’t you just sell a block and pay them off?’