Longings of the Heart (6 page)

“I’m fine. Really.” She opened the basket and took out sliced bread and cheese and a flask of water. Placing the cheese between two pieces of bread, she handed the plain sandwich to

John. “This is quite a pleasant spot. I love the tangy scent of eucalyptus.” She breathed deeply. “And the river here is nice, it’s a bit more lively. After we move in we can picnic often.” She gazed out on the quiet river. “Look there.” She pointed at a large white bird standing among the rushes along the bank. It had sticklike legs and a long narrow beak it dipped beneath the surface of the water to probe for food.

“It would seem he’s hungry too.” John bit into his sandwich.

The bird moved slowly along the river’s edge. Without warning, it spread its wings and launched itself into the air. With its legs trailing behind, the bird flew slowly and gracefully and then disappeared beyond the trees.

“I never tire of watching the birds and animals,” Hannah said. “They’re interesting and beautiful. I look forward to the day when I can sit on my veranda and simply gaze at the wildlife and the incredible landscape.”

John leaned back on one arm. “And on a hot day we can cool ourselves in the river.”

“I don’t know how to swim.”

“It’s not difficult. I’ll teach you. And our children.” John studied a quiet pool in the shallows and imagined the good days ahead.

“Of course,” Hannah said, her voice stiff.

John looked at her. “Are you afraid, luv?”

“Of what? Swimming?” She chuckled. “No. I’ve just never learned. In London the Thames wasn’t far from where I lived, but it was too ghastly a place to swim. And it would have been indecent of me anyway.”

“Not here. We’ve our privacy.” John closed his eyes for a moment, remembering. “I recall there being some grand places for swimming outside the city.”

“Mum and I rarely ventured out of town.” Hannah took a bite of her cheese. “Do you think we can move into the house soon? Lydia has taken on the position as housekeeper, and she’s quite competent. Mrs. Atherton has no need for me.” She looked at the tiny cottage. “If we lived here, we’d have more time together. And I could lend a hand.”

“I’ve the floor and roof left to do yet. And we can’t move in until there’s a door.”

Hannah broke off a piece of bread and put it in her mouth. “Perhaps if we lived here, we could finish more quickly because I could help. I don’t need a door.” She glanced at the sky. “And I doubt we’ll have any rain soon.”

“No door or roof?” John shook his head. “Doesn’t seem fitting. I don’t want my wife living in such a state. It’ll be spare enough as it is.” John ate the last of his sandwich and talked around the mouthful. “I’ve hired a man, Quincy Walker. Well, not exactly hired. He said he’d work for food and shelter.”

“We’ve no shelter, but I’d be happy to feed him.” Hannah met John’s eyes. “If he comes to work for you, then you’ll need a cook.”

“I suppose you’re right.”

“I don’t see why we can’t move in as soon as the floor is in place.” Hannah drank from the flask. “Could Quincy live in a lean-to?”

“He might be all right with that, at least until we can put up something more substantial.” John studied Hannah. “You’d truly not mind living without a roof or a door?”

“Well, if Quincy is going to be here, a door would be nice for privacy. We could use a blanket for now.” Hannah leaned back on her hands. “But I’d rather be here and get the house finished. And I’m not afraid when you’re with me.” She leaned toward him. “I just want our life here to begin.”

Lying beside John on a bed of woven rope, Hannah gazed at a night sky bejeweled with stars. “It’s a perfect night, isn’t it?” John clasped his hands behind his head. “I’d say nearly so.” “Our first night in our own home.”

“As humble as it is,” John said sardonically.

“It’s only temporary.”

A dingo howled, cutting into the quiet of the night. Another cry followed the first.

“Tomorrow I’ll put in a door.”

Hannah cuddled closer to John. “I’m not afraid. Really I’m not. When I’m with you I feel completely safe.”

“I won’t always be here. I’ll need to make trips into Sydney Town for supplies and I’ll have to travel to buy sheep.”

Hannah knew. She’d thought about the days and nights she’d have to spend alone. The idea frightened her, but with as much confidence as she could muster, she said, “There’s nothing to be done about it. I’ll simply have to learn to be more independent.” She rested her cheek on his chest, feeling comforted by the steady thump of his heart. “I like the open roof and not having a door.” She yawned. “It makes the house cooler.”

“Well and fine on a hot day, but there’ll be wet and cold ones to come. And cooler or not, the door will be set in place tomorrow.”

Hannah barely heard him. She was exhausted and could scarcely keep her eyes open. John pressed his lips to the top of her head and caressed her back. Secure, Hannah drifted into sleep.

When morning light awakened her, it was as if the night had passed in a moment. John was already out of bed. She sat up and her muscles complained. For several days, she’d worked alongside him, helping to finish the walls, laying wood planks in place for a floor, and moving in their few furnishings. They didn’t have much, but she’d managed to make the cottage look homey.

She let her eyes roam over the house. It was small but clean, and the hearth was a good one. A hook for managing cooking pots rested against one side of the fireplace, and a heavy iron teakettle sat on an iron stand in the coals. John had built two benches. One sat beside the hearth and the other had been placed just inside the door. He’d also made a rough-sawn table with two chairs and a wooden cupboard that held basic necessities. A row of hooks for clothing stood in line on the wall next to their bed.

Hannah set her bare feet on the rough-hewn floor. The coarse boards felt prickly, but it didn’t bother her. She knew that after several scrubbings the floor’s surface would become smoother. She moved to the window and watched John carry an armload of boards to the house. After a long yawn and a good stretch, she stepped to the doorway.

“These will do fine for a doorframe,” he said. “I’ll have it finished in no time.”

“I can see you’ve been up a good while.”

“That I have.” John offered Hannah a smile.

She hurried outside and walked several paces from the house where she found privacy behind a tree.

Just as she put her skirts to rights, she saw movement across the river. Her heart thumped. An Aborigine stared at her from the shadows. Hannah sucked in her breath. What was he doing there? Had he been watching her? Humiliated and frightened, she hurried back to the house.

“As soon as I get the roof on, I’ll see to it that we have a proper facility.”

“John.” Hannah’s voice trembled. “There’s an Aborigine across the river.”

“Is he still there?”

“I don’t know. I hurried back.”

John grabbed his musket and moved toward the road. “Stay in the house,” he commanded and made his way to the edge of the property.

Fear thrumming through her, Hannah hurried indoors and went to the window to watch. Her eyes moved over the landscape, but there was no sign of the man.

John cautiously approached the river and walked the bank, first heading downriver and then upriver. Finally, he made his way back to the house, occasionally glancing behind him.

Hannah met him at the door. “Did you see him?”

“No. I’m sure he was just curious and has gone on his way.”

“He startled me so.” Hannah pressed a hand against her throat. Her pulse raced. “I wasn’t expecting to see anyone, especially not while I was . . .”

John chuckled. “As soon as I finish the door, I’ll get an outdoor convenience built.”

“Thank you.” Hannah stepped inside. “I’ll make breakfast.” John and Hannah sat on a bench at the front of the house, munching on scones and dried beef. John kept an eye on the river. “I need brackets for the door. I can get some at the Athertons’. Would you like to come along?”

“Yes. I’d love it.” Still frightened over the Aborigine being so close to the house and watching her, Hannah was thankful for the invitation. “It would be lovely to see Lydia and Mrs. Atherton.”

John finished off his scone and leaned forward on his thighs. “I made a deal for our first batch of sheep.”

“You did? You didn’t say anything.”

“Sorry. In the midst of all the work, I guess I forgot. The man who has them lives near Sydney Town. He said I could get them anytime. I’d like to go next week.” His face tensed and he lifted his eyebrows slightly. “I’ll be away a few days.”

Hannah had just taken a bite of scone. She chewed and managed to force it down. “So we’ll truly begin, then.” She gazed at the property.

John smiled. “Today we’ll have a door, tomorrow a roof, and even a stock pen before I go. We’ve truly begun.”

“That’s an awful lot for you to do before next week.”

“I talked to Quincy, and he said although he’s still working for Mr. Atherton, he’d be glad to help out. We just need to keep his stomach full.”

“I can do that for him.” Hannah smiled, but her mind was still on the news that in a few days John would leave her here alone. Fear spiked through her. “Perhaps I should know how to shoot a pistol.”

“That’s a good idea.”

Hannah watched as John poured black powder into the pistol muzzle.

“Be careful not to put in too much,” he said, and then pulled the string on a pouch closed with his teeth. He fished out a lead ball from another small bag and pushed it into the barrel. Using a rod attached to the underside of the gun, he stuffed the powder and ball in tightly. He looked at Hannah. “You think you can do this?”

Hannah hated the idea of firing a weapon, but she needed to know how. “It doesn’t seem too difficult. I’ll have to practice a few times.”

“Right.” John turned his attention back to the gun. “The next step is to pull the striker back, but just halfway. After you’ve done that, you need to prime it with a bit of gunpowder.” He poured some into the flash pan and then closed the lid. “Now it’s primed and ready to shoot. If you’re carrying it or keeping it on the shelf, you can leave it primed so it’s ready to fire when you need it.”

He glanced at a target he’d set up. “I’ll see to it that you always have a pistol primed. There’s a safety notch here to keep it from firing until you’re ready.” He showed her how to put the safety on and then asked, “So, you think you can remember all that?”

Hannah nodded, but she wasn’t truly sure. There were so many steps.

“Now, when you want to shoot, you pull the striker back like this.” He demonstrated. “Then grasp the pistol with both hands to keep it steady.” He held the gun out in front of him and aimed at a wooden slab leaning against a stump. “And then you pull the trigger, right here.” He squeezed the trigger.

The gun discharged with a loud explosion and seemed to jump in John’s hands. Hannah flinched. “Oh my Lord! I shan’t be able to do it.”

John smiled at her and lowered the pistol. “Of course you can. You must.”

Hannah knew he was right. “I’ll give it a go, then.” Hands trembling, she took the gun and did just as he’d shown her. When it was loaded and primed, she cocked it and grasped it between both hands. She fired, missing the stump completely.

“Not bad for your first attempt,” John said.

Swamped in a cloud of smoke and her hands tingling from the kick of the pistol, Hannah was certain she never wanted to fire a weapon again. “Oh, the stink is awful. What is that smell?” She fanned the air with her hand. “It’s like cooked eggs.”

“Just the burned powder.”

Quaking and frustrated, Hannah lowered the pistol. “I was terrible.”

John chuckled. “You’ll do better. Try again.”

Hannah didn’t want to, but she made two more attempts. The last time she managed to hit the target, but the noise, smoke, and pain in her hands begged for her to stop.

“Well done. We’ll practice more another time.” John rested a hand on her shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze

“Are you certain you wouldn’t rather stay at the Athertons’?” John asked as he headed for the door.

“No. I’ll be quite all right. I’d best get used to spending time alone.” Hannah managed to smile. She would have preferred staying at the Athertons’, but that was foolishness. She was a farmer’s wife and must become self-reliant.