The Great Plains (39 page)

Will watched the truck until it rounded a rise and then disappeared. He'd never believed in good or bad luck, or signs for that matter, but it seemed to him that his mates were unnerved. His father would say that they'd lived in the scrub for too long, that they needed some civilisation. It could happen to a man, the isolation, the grog. The land could close in around a person and squeeze him until there was no breath left in his body.

He sat in the cane chair Sprout had scavenged from somewhere and sucked on the dregs of the rum bottle, imagining he was curled on the horse-hair couch at home. Working dogs barked intermittently, competing against the whir of the homestead generator as stars began to spot the sky. In the distance the rooms in the big house were illuminated, one by one. Will imagined Mr Wade and the woman looking through the house, surveying the fine furnishings or complaining that something was too old and shabby. He dozed where he sat, staring at the well-lit house and thinking of the moneyed family who were seeing it for the first time. Will couldn't help wonder why, after so many years, they had finally decided to come to Australia.

September, 1935 – Condamine Station homestead,
Southern Queensland

Tobias poured a measure of rum into two glasses and handed one to his old friend. Wes accepted the drink and both men sat in cane chairs on the wide verandah surrounded by cool stone and trailing plants. Their evening meal, a cold collation of roast pork and potted black duck, was accompanied by potatoes tossed in butter and parsley, string beans and julienned carrots. The tinned oyster soup had been less than satisfactory and Tobias was considering hiring a new cook until dessert arrived. The marble jelly was light and refreshing and was apparently the only item that Abelena consumed from the tray delivered to her room.

‘You were right when you said it was a journey and a half. I can see why you never returned to Oklahoma for a visit.'

Wes took a sip of the drink, resting the glass on his thigh. ‘I thought about returning a couple of times but in the end I couldn't see much point. Besides, I like it here. The landscape reminds me of home in some respects, the wide open spaces and grasslands, the sense of this still being a frontier land. This country's been saved by distance. Australia's practically empty of people compared to the rest of the world and I quite like that aspect of the place.'

‘You never were much of a humanitarian, Wes.'

He laughed. ‘I spent half my young life riding with your father and Sheriff Cadell. I can't say I saw a lot of honest men during those days and in some respects the experience made me doubt the good in most people.'

‘Well, the frontier days are gone. Oklahoma's changed. It's in the grip of a depression and then there's the shocking drought. On the east coast the New Yorkers are complaining about the dust clouds rolling in from the west and engulfing the city. While half the farmers from the mid-west are either in California or heading that way in search of work.'

‘From what I hear, Roosevelt's been introducing all sorts of new measures.'

Tobias poured more rum. ‘The work programme has been very successful. Many of the unemployed have been put to work on a range of government-financed projects building bridges, roads, airports and dams. The standing joke at home at the moment is that Roosevelt's going to put down so many dams in our state that he'll raise the humidity and alter the climate.'

‘So he's literally putting his stamp on the American landscape.'

‘He is indeed.' Tobias settled back in the chair. The lights of the station outbuildings shone feebly through the trees.

‘I was sorry I didn't get to see your father one last time.'

‘He thought the world of you, Wes.'

‘He didn't agree with you bringing the girl, did he?'

Tobias ran a finger around the rim of the glass.

‘She's a lot younger than you, Tobias. You're old enough to be her father,' Wes replied pointedly. ‘I'll give your grandfather's brother his due, he certainly produced a line of fine-looking women, Indian or not.'

‘What was I supposed to do? Let Abelena undergo electrical shock therapy? That's what my father had in mind, that followed by boarding school.'

‘So you decided to save her?'

‘You make it sound as if I've done the wrong thing, Wes.'

‘That depends, I guess, on whether you've brought her all the way to Australia for her sake or for your own. Don't look at me like that, Tobias. You and I go back a long way, but you forget that I was working for your father as a stable boy when you were in Dallas with your mother.'

‘I haven't forgotten.'

‘Well, I was there when your grandfather died, I was there when news came of Serena's disappearance from Fort Sill, I was there when Philomena came to stay, I was there when she died, when your grandmother died.'

‘Are you giving me a family history lesson?' Tobias asked. ‘Because I'm only too well aware of the litany of dramas that have befallen the Wade family.'

‘Then you'll understand why I'm wondering why you brought Philomena Wade's great-granddaughter to Australia. You've got a grandfather and a father who were both obsessed by Philomena and both had no end of grief dealing with Serena. After everything that's happened, I would have thought that that girl was the last thing that was needed in our lives.'

Tobias drained the dregs in the glass. ‘Who was left to look after her? Her murdering brother will meet his end via “Old Sparkie” and the other two are in a state home. And, let's face it, my father's preferred alternative was just brutal.'

‘It might have worked,' Wes said. ‘Helped the girl lead a normal life.'

‘She's already leading a normal life.'

‘Rubbish, you're keen on her. I've seen the way you look at her, Tobias.'

‘I have their money. Their share.' Tobias swirled his glass.

‘What money?'

‘Money left to Philomena, which should rightfully have then gone to Serena and her descendants.'

This time it was Wes who reached for the rum bottle on the side-table. ‘Now you're looking for excuses and guilt is the worst of reasons to do something.'

Tobias let out a sound that was part-laugh and part-anguished groan. ‘But that's what started it all, Wes, guilt. My grandfather was in love with Philomena's mother and blamed himself for their move to Mexico and his brother joining the Confederate Army. He blamed himself for his brother's death and Philomena's abduction.'

‘Well,' Wes said thoughtfully, ‘that I didn't know.'

They sat quietly as the night insects buzzed around the kerosene lamp on the table between them.

‘Does Abelena know about the money?'

‘No, and I'm not telling her. It would only cause problems.'

‘Do you want me to move out, give you the run of the place?'

Tobias held out his glass for a refill. ‘Of course not. This house is big enough for ten families.'

‘Well, I'll move downstairs, that way you have the second floor to yourself. That's only fair.'

‘Whatever suits you, Wes.'

‘Where is Abelena now?'

‘Still locked in her room.'

‘Old habits die hard, eh?'

Tobias scratched at a patch of flaking paint on the arm of his chair. ‘Just before we left Sydney, Abelena was starting to be a little more interested in things, but her change in attitude was a bit abrupt. Maybe I'm overreacting but I still don't trust her. She comes from a family of women who have spent their lives running away from their heritage.'

‘We're in the middle of nowhere, Tobias. Even if she does run off, she wouldn't get very far.'

‘And that comment is meant to make me unlock her door?'

Wes swatted an insect crawling on his neck. ‘I think you underestimate her. If you ask me, she'll just cause you trouble like her mother did.'

‘I thought Serena was the bravest girl in the world when we were young. Now I just feel sorry for her.'

‘Sorry for her?' Wes said bluntly. ‘She's dead.'

‘Exactly.'

Wes shot his old friend a look of discontent. ‘If you're up for it we'll go through the stock book in the morning. The thieving started up again last year, not as bad as when Hocking was alive but the numbers have been steadily growing. Initially I put the losses down to blowfly-strike or dry periods, but when the attrition rate continued to grow I started to follow the stockmen when they were returning mobs to their paddocks, but so far I've come up with nothing.'

‘But we're short two thousand head.'

‘Yes, we are,' Wes agreed. ‘The last count was at shearing. We'll be bringing the wethers in next week and checking them for fly. Then I suggest we start lamb-marking a week early and keep bringing the mobs in and keeping a good count. That way we'll know if anymore have been stolen.'

‘Agreed, and what about your men? Any suspicions?'

Wes scratched an ear. ‘I'd have to say that we've got a reasonably good team here, Tobias. It took me a while to understand their ways. They can be too casual in attitude at times and they were pretty wary of me when I first arrived, but they're damn good workers. A handful of them have been around since your father first purchased the property. Evan Crawley, the head stockman, is one. He's a reprobate to look at. He sneaks grog in for the men when the station is meant to be dry and I have to admit to having my doubts about his honesty at times, but I've never been able to pin anything on him. He also has the ear of the men. If I told the majority of them to jump they wouldn't move until Evan gave the okay.'

‘This Evan was under Hocking when he was manager, wasn't he?' Tobias clarified.

‘Yes.' Wes looked his friend squarely in the eyes.

‘When you sent word to Father of Hocking's stealing and then his death, we wondered if you'd got to him first,' Tobias chuckled. ‘Sheriff Cadell always asked questions later and you were a keen student.'

‘We're not in Oklahoma anymore.'

Tobias sighed contentedly. ‘No, we're not. So have you employed anyone new recently? Anyone who could be considered a bit dubious?'

‘Only a kid off a dairy farm.' Wes lit a cigarette and blew a smoke ring into the night air. ‘He's the Todd boy. Anyway, the local police will be out in the morning. I've reported the theft but I thought it just as well that Constable Maine make your acquaintance. Now if you don't mind, old friend, I think I'll get some sleep.'

Upstairs, Tobias slipped the brass key into the lock of the bedroom door. The large room was illuminated by a single electric lamp. There was a wash-stand in one corner with a porcelain jug and bowl, a bow-fronted wardrobe of dark wood and a dresser with an oval mirror attached. The girl's travelling trunk sat in the middle of the floor, its contents spilling out onto the carpet. He stepped gingerly around the pile of clothes to peer at the four-poster bed with its gauze mosquito net and crisp white sheets. The lamplight barely extended to the far end of the stifling room and Tobias unlocked two windows and pushed them wide open, before turning towards the bed. It was an agreeable room with pale yellow wallpaper and a white plaster ceiling but the furniture was of a plain colonial style, heavy and serviceable. He would order new furniture. Pretty, feminine pieces and paintings, as the walls were bare.

In the midst of his thoughts he heard a soft snore. The bed was empty. Abelena lay on the floor in a foetal position, her only concessions to comfort a pillow and a blanket beneath her. In sleep, the girl looked like an angel. Dark hair fanned out from an exotic face that had grown rounded and healthy with weeks of good food and care. The material of her nightgown was stretched taut across a rounded breast and Tobias watched fascinated as with each breath the soft melon curve of skin rose and fell.

Wes was right, of course. If Tobias had ever believed that his actions were tempered only with Abelena's welfare in mind, he had long since forgotten such Christian inclinations. Two generations of Wade men had already been obsessed by Philomena and her offspring and Tobias had become no less infatuated. It was true that the girl's mixed heritage held its own appeal, but there was something in these Wade cousins that went beyond their palpable beauty. The moment Abelena had alighted from the surrey in the company of Sheriff Cadell outside their Oklahoma City home, Tobias had sensed something intangibly different about the girl. She'd been shy yet strong, skinny and shrewd as an alley cat, but also fragile in beauty and wild of temperament after so many weeks on the run. Ginny Wade's descendants were vigorous and headstrong, defiant and wanton and they oozed an addictive magnetism that reached into the very soul of the men who would care for them.

Tobias knelt by the young woman and very carefully pulled at the satin bindings until a breast was exposed. He fingered the material gently, holding his breath as the girl rolled onto her back. He could take her now as he'd taken so many other women. Simply lift the flimsy hem of the gown she wore and open her with a probing finger. She would scream of course, a loud and piercing shriek. A gag would be needed to keep her quiet, but afterwards Abelena would be his. The girl came from a line of women who understood the ways of men. Very probably Serena had schooled her daughter in the art of whoring, although Tobias doubted she'd been deflowered. That special pleasure would be left to him.

The young woman stirred in her sleep and Tobias's gaze drifted lazily over her body. His father had been keen for him to marry, to settle down and produce an heir but matrimony had never held any appeal until now. His father's disastrous relationship with his mother had been part of the reason for his reluctance. He'd grown up an only child controlled by a dominant mother and then watched as his father spent the winter of his years pining after a woman he'd buried in their garden. He'd never forgiven his mother for not returning to Oklahoma after Philomena's death, never forgotten being separated from his father, never absolved his mother from being needy and demanding. His was not an environment that produced matrimonial leanings, a state which, to Tobias, seemed particularly pointless when there were any number of willing women happy to service him with limited demands.