Ironbark (32 page)

‘No tattoos, Jake?'

‘No one's ever gunna put a brand on me!'

Keziah knew he really meant
no woman.
Jenny had already branded him for life.

She realised Jake swore as effortlessly as other men drew breath. The inventiveness of his repertoire made it sound like his own peculiar poetry. He whooped in triumph when he finished binding the wheel.

‘This is makeshift but it'll see the distance to Bran's forge.'

‘Where's that?'

‘So you ain't met young Bran? Good lad. Do anything for you. Poor bugger's got this speech thing. His jaw moves but nothing much comes out. Just got to be patient.'

Keziah saw he was embarrassed when he caught her looking at him. He put his shirt on and sat himself at the other end of the fallen tree trunk.

When the water in the billycan was on a rolling boil, Jake threw in a handful of tea and stirred it with a twig of eucalyptus leaves. The aroma was tantalising. Then he held the billycan at arm's length and swung his arm like a windmill.

‘See? That makes the tea leaves sink to the bottom.' After the first mouthful he gave his verdict. ‘Aaah, now that's tea!'

They drank in silence. Minutes passed.

‘What's up?' he asked.

‘Nothing.'

‘Yes there is. You're too bloody quiet. Ain't natural in a woman.'

‘So you're the world's authority on women as well as horses,' Keziah said mildly.

‘Something
is
up! Have I done something wrong or what?'

‘No. I just noticed an odd thing about your swearing.'

‘Just
now
? Struth, you know I always swear. Learned it with my mother's milk.'

Keziah assumed he was joking. ‘You don't
always
swear, Jake.'

‘Well, a man's got to sleep some time.'

She pointed out he had not sworn in front of women during their whole coach trip. Had he sworn in Jenny's presence?

‘Bloody hell, no!'

She digested that fact. ‘So why am I so different to other women?'

Jake took his time. ‘I reckon it's 'cause you're not a woman – you're my mate.'

Startled, Keziah took a stab in the dark. ‘Does that mean a Currency Lad feels more comfortable with a mate than with a woman?'

‘Blood oath, yes!'

Keziah realised Jake had paid her his highest compliment, but she wasn't quite sure how she felt about it.
Does this mean he doesn't see me as a woman? Is this the price of our friendship? Or is it the new pattern of relationships between Currency women and men?

‘Do you mean husbands, wives and lovers come and go but mates are for life?'

Jake looked pleased with her forthright definition. ‘I reckon that's it in a nutshell.'

Keziah swallowed. ‘So if we're real mates, just like two men, you'll always tell me any news about Gem? Good or bad?'

‘You can count on it.'

She nodded her thanks. ‘Because no matter what, I'll always love Gem.'

Jake nodded. ‘I know. And no matter what, I'm never gunna build my life around a good woman again. Never!'

He extended his hand and they solemnly shook hands. ‘Mates!'

• • •

On their arrival at Bran the Blacksmith's forge, Keziah instinctively felt reluctant to enter. She told Jake she would remain outside to hold the sleeping Gabriel while the wheel was replaced. The truth was she felt something was very wrong. There was a heaviness in the air so
oppressive she had a sudden blinding headache. Through the open face of the forge she saw that the young giant blacksmith looked harmless enough. It was the forge itself that seemed to radiate a sense of foreboding.

When a lone rider galloped up, wearing the flash garments of a gentleman, he hastily glanced around him before he dismounted and lead his horse inside the forge.

Keziah watched the blacksmith down tools and give immediate attention to replacing the horseshoes on the young man's horse. Judging by Jake's matey attitude it was clear the trio knew each other well.

Before the young rider rode away he doffed his hat to Keziah with a lopsided grin. ‘Take care of my mate, Ma'am.'

Whistling when he rejoined her, Jake avoided her eyes.

Keziah wasn't going to let him off the hook. ‘That was Jabber Jabber, the Gentleman Bushranger, wasn't it?'

Jake looked uncomfortable and Keziah knew why.

‘Don't play games, Jake. He's the one who bailed us up and protected Saranna from One Eye!'

Jake said quickly, ‘Yeah. But if the traps ask, you never saw him!'

‘As if I would!'

They headed off as soon as the broken wheel was replaced. With the forge behind them her headache suddenly disappeared. Once more she felt light of heart.

‘What a day! I saw the most extraordinary animal, the koala, met a famous bushranger who
didn't
bail me up, and I nearly got killed by a boulder.'

‘Yeah,' Jake said with pride. ‘There ain't no other country in the world to beat Australia.'

• • •

On their return to Keziah's cottage she offered Jake tea but he made a lame excuse about heading off to Bolthole Valley. Keziah stood on the veranda watching until horse and rider were cut off from sight by the
bend in the road. Jake's reference to Bolthole Valley gave her an odd feeling. Whenever she went to Feagan's General Store men were marching in and out of the House of the Four Sisters.
I can't see Jake going there just to drink tea in their kitchen.

She reminded herself that whatever Jake did was no concern of hers but curiosity overcame her. She dealt out a pattern of playing cards to see what clues she could find. These cards were no substitute for her lost Tarot, but they flooded her mind with images that suggested what the future held.

She was convinced Jake was still in love with Jenny, represented by the Queen of Hearts, a card closely linked to love and money. Keziah saw that Jenny was about to reappear in Jake's life. A rush of feelings confused her.

She hastily gathered up the cards and placed the pack at the back of the drawer, but pushing the thought of Jake to the back of her mind was not so easy.

Later that night, Keziah was standing at the window when a stranger rode past on a roan gelding. Although his profile was in shadow Keziah sensed his eyes were fixed on the cottage. The shiver down her spine warned her that whoever this man was, he was real trouble.

The following Friday Keziah awoke with a sense of foreboding that she could not shake. The air seemed thick with some sort of turbulence. She found it difficult to breathe.

Nerida stood in the doorway with Murphy clinging to her skirt. The expression in her eyes confirmed Keziah's own anxiety.

‘Let's take a walk before school, Nerida. Is there anything wrong?'

Nerida shook her head but avoided looking at Keziah as they started down the track.

After closing the gates of Ironbark Farm behind them, Keziah became uneasy about the unusual silence in the village. None of the few-acres farms showed any sign of life. The population seemed to have disappeared overnight.

On the track leading uphill to the small chapel Keziah saw where everyone had gone. The villagers were silently gathered around the church porch where George Hobson was addressing the crowd with Joseph Bloom by his side. Keziah noticed the towering figure of Bran the Blacksmith was standing apart, his eyes fixed intently on Hobson.

‘Why are they all here?' Keziah whispered to Nerida. ‘If bushrangers were sighted they'd have rung the school bell.'

Nerida's only response was to look downcast. Keziah felt her heart racing as she caught Hobson's words.

‘… news of this massacre at Myall Creek is sending shockwaves throughout the colony. Reports are flying faster by word of mouth than the newspapers can reach us. Some are so wild they seem beyond belief. No doubt it will be weeks before we learn the full truth. But it would seem the basic facts are clear. The atrocity took place on 10 June on the Liverpool Plains, the troopers have only just discovered the evidence.'

Hobson rubbed his hands together in agitation. ‘The bodies of twenty-eight blacks – old men, women and children – were found near the hut of a Mr Kilmaister near Myall Creek.'

A murmur rippled through the crowd. Was their reaction one of horror or something else? Keziah could not be sure as she was standing at the back of the crowd and unable to see their faces.

Hobson continued, stammering as he pointed out that the reason for the massacre was incomprehensible. There had been no uprisings by blacks for many years.

‘If the story is true that Kilmaister befriended this tribe in the past they must have gathered around his hut confident of his protection,' he said.

Keziah instinctively drew her arm around Nerida's shoulders. The girl was trembling.

Hobson turned his head in their direction and the crowd followed his gaze, swinging around to stare at them. Their blank faces were unreadable.

Keziah whispered to Nerida, ‘These are our friends. You're quite safe.' Her words sounded hollow as she felt Nerida's fear.

The crowd wanted answers. They peppered Hobson with their questions.

Hobson's gruff voice betrayed his emotion. ‘The word is that a party of stockholders on Big River rode up armed with swords and pistols and roped the Aborigines in line. Only two shots were fired. The rest were butchered with swords. It's rumoured a pile of their half-charred bodies was discovered by the station manager.'

Keziah was devastated by the violent images. And she was horrified to hear some of the ‘good people' in the community mumble sympathy for the murderers.

‘How do we know it was Kilmaister's doing?' Griggs demanded.

Joseph Bloom answered quickly. ‘We don't! The truth won't be revealed until the trial. But it seems the police have arrested him along
with ten or eleven other white men. We're told they'll all stand trial for the murders.' He added with quiet emphasis, ‘Let us hope British justice will be seen to be done.'

Griggs looked back at Nerida before he spoke to the man beside him loudly enough for all to hear. ‘Everyone knows blackfellas ain't really human. They got smaller brains than us. I bet those poor white stockmen just followed their boss's orders.'

Keziah wanted to attack him with her bare hands, but she fought to remember she must be seen to act as Saranna Plews and control the full measure of her anger.

‘So, Griggs, if my employer Mr Hobson ordered me to shoot
you
down like a dog, you'd feel sorry for
me
for having to obey orders, would you?'

There was a nervous murmur in the crowd. Griggs was taken aback by the quiet venom in her voice but managed to mumble, ‘What would that uppity Pommy schoolma'am know?'

Joseph Bloom consulted his partner before he held up his hands for silence.

‘Miss Plews, we want to assure Nerida that she and her little boy are safe at Ironbark Farm. You have our word on that.' He turned to the overseer and added coldly, ‘I hold you personally responsible for their safety, Griggs.'

Badly shaken, Keziah nodded her thanks then hurried back to the cottage gripping little Murphy's hand as Nerida carried Gabriel on her hip.

Nerida made no comment about the outrage but she moved like a sleepwalker. Refusing Keziah's invitation to share their supper, she withdrew inside her
goondie.

Next morning Keziah awoke to find that Nerida and little Murphy had vanished. She was overwhelmed with sadness. Clearly she had failed to convince Nerida she would protect them. Nerida no longer trusted any
gubba's
word, not even hers. Would she ever see her again?
It was a delightfully warm October afternoon as Keziah returned home after school, carrying Gabriel on her hip. Spring had brought the promise of nature's renewal of life after the tragedy of the past winter. But in the months since the massacre Keziah's dreams had revealed no sign of Nerida's return. Now as Keziah approached her hut, she saw the welcome figure of Jake Andersen sprawled in the squatter's chair, asleep under his hat, his feet propped on the veranda railing. He pushed back his hat but didn't bother to remove it as normal good manners demanded in a lady's presence.

Because I'm not a woman, I'm just his mate.
Keziah felt a passing wave of irritation but reminded herself she had bigger things on her mind.

‘Nice day,' said Jake. ‘You and Gabe fancy a picnic?'

‘I'd be glad of the company. I'm still worried about Nerida. There's been no sign of her.'

‘She'll be back. Neri would never leave you except for some important blackfellas' business,' Jake stated firmly.

‘I hope she's safe, wherever she is. Gabriel misses her too. It's just as well he loves all the attention he gets at school. He's as good as gold. Sings along with the children and sleeps in his basket. But to be selfish, I'm finding it hard managing without Nerida.'

‘You all right?' he asked with concern.

‘It's not only the horror of the massacre. I keep dreaming Gem is reaching out to me.'

Jake said evenly, ‘Let's get the picnic ready.'

Keziah carried little Gabriel on her back in the string dillybag Nerida had woven for her. Despite his early birth Gabriel was big for nine months, giving every indication he would grow to be a big strong lad.

Jake loaded Horatio up with Keziah's picnic baskets and led them along the track towards the swimming hole. Hobson had ordained this was Keziah's private place to visit with Nerida and the children. No
man at Ironbark Farm was allowed within sight of it.

Keziah tried to read Jake's mood. He was clearly preoccupied.

‘Out with it, Jake. You've heard something about Gem? I was in Bolthole Valley yesterday. I overheard two men outside that house where those four sisters live. They were talking about some bushranger who wears a gold earring.'