Absolution Creek (62 page)

‘One problem at a time,’ Sam countered.

Meg propped pillows beneath Kendal’s head and then selected a clean shirt, which she pressed against his injury. ‘I don’t know what else we can do for him.’ She pulled the bed covers to his chin and glanced out the door at the curtain of rain, which continued to obliterate the countryside. ‘Would we get him to Stringybark Point?’

Sam scratched his neck. Penny and Jill reappeared in the bedroom doorway, a blanket draped between them, their eyes agog. ‘Thanks. Now you two run along and check the leaks in the house for your mother and we’ll get Kendal settled.’

‘Will Kendal be okay, Daddy?’

‘Sure he will, Jill.’ Sam unwrapped the end of the blanket from around his daughter’s leg.

Penny looked doubtful. ‘If Aunt Cora was here she’d know what to do.’

Sam turned to his wife. ‘Out of the mouths of babes, eh?’

‘Off you go,’ Meg ordered, scooting the girls out and shutting the door behind them.

‘I could bundle him into a vehicle and give it a go,’ Sam said, staring at Kendal. ‘The problem is I don’t know how bad the road will be. If I get bogged Kendal really will have a problem.’

‘Yeah, he probably is better off here. If that wound gets jolted around it might start bleeding again.’ Meg rested her hand on Kendal’s brow. He was hot to the touch.

‘He had it in for me from the very beginning,’ Sam began. ‘Not that I can blame him – not being paid and all. Still, for a kid he sure has an attitude.’

‘Why’s he even here?’ Meg smoothed Kendal’s hair. ‘He’s not being paid and it’s not like he’s the friendliest of people.’ She waited unsuccessfully for Sam to make a comment. ‘What were you fighting about?’

There didn’t seem much point in avoiding the truth. ‘He said something about Cora not belonging to the black or the white section at the Stringybark Point flicks. That she wasn’t entitled to the land and therefore you weren’t, either. A fella wouldn’t make a comment like that unless some truth lay at the heart of it. Anyway, right or wrong I decked him one. A smart bloke would have noticed all the animosity from the beginning. Kendal’s dislike for your aunt, and Harold continually trying to overrule the woman he works for. Combine that with your mother’s attitude towards her sister . . . well, it all equals trouble.’

‘I don’t see how that adds up to anything,’ Meg responded.

‘Maybe it’s a bit like trying to join missing dots, but I can see by the look on your face that you had some suspicions. You knew, didn’t you?’ he asked hesitantly, praying Kendal’s accusations weren’t about to be confirmed. ‘You knew your aunt was of Aboriginal blood.’

They were facing each other across their bed, Kendal’s prone body between them. Meg wrung her hands. ‘I’m not sure.’

‘Well, I’m not sure that I’d admit to it, either.’ Sam considered the ramifications; thought of his little girls whom he loved and the Sydney-based mother-in-law who considered herself too high and mighty for the likes of Sam Bell. ‘I need to ask this, Meg. Is your mother . . .’

Meg’s cheeks flushed a bright pink. ‘No, of course not.’ She sat heavily on the edge of the bed. ‘At least, I don’t think so.’

‘So you don’t know for sure?’

Meg lowered her voice. ‘No, Sam Bell, I don’t know for sure. However, apparently Mum and Cora are stepsisters by marriage only, so I’m figuring she isn’t.’

‘Stepsisters, eh? And you didn’t feel the need to share any of this with me earlier?’

‘No, yes. Damn it, I don’t know, Sam. I’ve had a lot to think about over the last few weeks and our relationship hasn’t exactly been great.’

Sam looked both surprised and disappointed. ‘Funny, from where I stood I thought things were improving.’

He rummaged in the chest of drawers for a dry shirt, jeans and a jumper. ‘Well, let’s forget about us for the moment. This business with Cora is a lot for a person to take in.’ He stripped off, quickly changing into the fresh clothes. ‘So now we know why your mother and Cora don’t get on. What a mess.’ He flipped his shirt collar up and over his jumper and then prodded at the wet and bloody bandage on his thigh. ‘You know, I’m not sure if a darkie can even hold land in their name.’

‘Would you mind not calling my aunt that, please?’

Sam pulled on the clean jeans. ‘Sorry, but you know we do have to consider our own reputations, Meg, and our future. There isn’t much point staying on here if there’s nothing in it for us.’

‘I thought you liked it here.’

‘Let’s not change the subject. How long have you known?’

‘Well, I don’t. At least . . . well, Cora’s been telling me the story of a little girl called Squib who lost her family in the twenties. I guess I didn’t really pick up on the fact that Cora was Squib until she told me. Not that Cora mentioned anything about . . .’ Meg faltered. ‘Anyway, if you’re asking me if I know for sure, no I don’t. However, I’ve had a few conversations with Kendal as well and when we went to Stringybark Point shopping last month, Cora just seemed to be treated differently. People sort of didn’t talk about her as if she was one of us.’

‘Would you have come to Absolution if you’d known?’

Meg’s fingers plied the blanket beneath her. ‘We don’t know how much or little of that blood she has in her.’ Of course, a telephone call to her mother would answer all their questions.

‘Does it matter?’ Sam opened the door. A wave of moist cold air swept through the room. ‘Obviously there was enough to make her decide not to tell you.’

Meg didn’t answer.

‘Well, now she’s gone and got herself lost out in this blasted weather. It’s already near dark with this heavy cloud cover.’

‘Are you going out to look for her?’ Meg asked, giving Kendal a final glance before joining Sam on the veranda.

Sam frowned. ‘No.’

Cora reached the creek crossing just as darkness began to settle in. Edged by trees, the low bank was frilled by great knobbly roots. Finally, a cleared space showed the track that headed west, away from danger. The outline of the mounded dirt across the pipe was visible, the cement edge white against the dark soil. Montgomery took a tentative sniff at its muddy approach, raised his head into the driving rain and backed up like a horse.

‘Go on then, Montgomery, don’t baulk now,’ Cora called, her voice doing battle with the noise of rain slashing the waterway into a miniature stormy sea. The ram turned, sniffed the air and took a step back towards where they’d come from. Curly growled. Cora wheeled Horse to the right, blocking the ram from escape. ‘Come on. Just walk over the damn thing. Walk, Montgomery.’

The ram changed direction.

‘For a prize animal you sure are dumb.’ The ram glowered in the gathering dark. Streaks of lightning illuminated the blue-black sky and lit up the land about them between snatches of rolling thunder. Cora didn’t like the look of the sky. In all her years on Absolution Creek she could not recall seeing such lightning in a wet or a dry storm. Something made her glance over her shoulder. The flash that followed was like a floodlight revealing a thick storm swirling westward, while the one nearly upon her was heading towards the east.

The rain whipped at her face and she tugged on slippery reins. ‘In a few more minutes it’ll be pitch black, Montgomery. None of us will be able to see a thing.’

Horse whinnied in agreement. Curly barked. Cora unfurled her stock whip from the saddle and flicked it towards the ram. She raised the plaited leather above her head and snapped the crack at the end in mid-air. The sharp clap pierced the air and Montgomery moved backwards towards the crossing. Cora lifted the whip again. Horse moved forward automatically and Montgomery faltered under the noisy barrage. Again and again Cora cracked the whip as the ram took a few steps closer to the crossing. It was tough going. Each time Cora flashed the leather she listened to the resounding crack as it competed with both rain and thunder. Finally, Montgomery bolted over the crossing to the edge of the track where grass gave his hoofs greater purchase than the muddy road.

Cora wound up the whip, and thrust her arm through it and over her shoulder. ‘Thank heavens.’ She ran her hand down Horse’s neck and gritted her teeth. She could do this. She had to do it. The only way to get home was to cross the blasted creek. ‘Now it’s our turn.’ They were halfway across the mounded dirt when a lightning flash struck the ground only feet away. Horse reared instinctively and slipped. Cora felt the saddle slide out from beneath her, her hands flailing.

She was lying in mud, her head pounding from the impact. Gradually, another noise replaced the pain in her head. It was the sound of rain hitting mud inches from her ear. Splats of dirty water mixed with raindrops on her skin. The rain was growing heavier. Pain raced up Cora’s leg. Horse was lying on her weak leg, Curly whining next to her.

‘Horse? Horse old mate, get up.’ Cora clawed her way up from the mud, her fingers twisting against the saddle. Yanking at the solid weight she tried to move her leg left to right, quickly realising it was pinned from the thigh down. Horse’s breathing was ragged.

‘Horse, Horse, wake up!’ When the next flash of lightning illuminated the sky the scale of the animal’s injury became apparent. A great gash revealed blood and bone. His head had hit the edge of the cement pipe. ‘No, not my Horse,’ Cora whimpered. ‘Not my friend.’ Reaching out she grasped a handful of wet mane. ‘I love you, Horse. I love you.’ She wanted to look into those trusting brown eyes one more time, just once, but she couldn’t. Horse faced away from her towards an unknown paddock. With shaking hands she unhooked the holster and drew her pistol. She pulled at a gloved finger with her teeth and freed her hand, and was soon loading a single bullet into the chamber with trembling fingers.

Hold your breath, Squib
, her father would say.
Pull the trigger nice and slow and then let the air out.

Cora did as she’d been taught, her hand perfectly still. When the thunder cracked and lightning followed, the round hit the highlighted target neatly. ‘Good Horse.’ She patted him quietly as he gave a final kick. ‘Good Horse.’

Cora holstered the pistol, placed her free foot against Horse’s back and pushed as hard as she could. ‘Come on, come on,’ she yelled through gritted teeth. ‘You can do this.’ Twisting and turning made little difference, her leg didn’t budge an inch. Eventually exhaustion began to radiate through her limbs. Cora fell back in the mud, the rain lashing her face, the swish of water only feet below. She tried not to think of the creek, of where she lay, of her beloved Horse pinning her down. Nonetheless fear stalked her; it moved stealthily across the sodden ground to sit heavily on her chest.

‘Go home, Curly,’ Cora commanded. ‘Go fetch help.’

The dog looked at her, walked a few steps and then halted.

‘Go!’

Curly gave Horse a sniff and then disappeared into the rain.

Above her the sky raged. It was as if two weather tribes fought each other on the backs of clouds, lightning as spears, thunder their war cry. Cora lay and waited for the inevitable. The perfect storm that Captain Bob once spoke of – the one that would send her into oblivion – had finally come to Absolution Creek.

Chapter 52

J
ack waited two days for Squib to return. During her absence he stayed well clear of the homestead, relying on distance to ease a thickening disappointment. He lived on nothing but water and aged bread, and spent long hours by the creek, bare feet splayed in the water. Occasionally he would flick through his father’s Bible in an attempt to find the slightest thread of understanding, a modicum of solace, but an answer eluded him.