Dust on the Horizon (26 page)

“Where did you two come from?”

He looked across at his father's grinning face then back to the door. He felt a ripple of shock at the woman who entered. It was his mother but she looked painfully thin and her hair was streaked with grey. Immediately he felt remorse at leaving his daughters in her care. It had only been two months but she had aged several years since he'd last seen her.

“Mother.” He put one hand carefully to her elbow and bent to kiss her cheek.

She accepted his kiss but pulled her arm from his grip. “Don't put those filthy hands on my sleeve, Joseph. Lucky I put pinafores on the girls.”

“What are you doing here?” He looked from his excited daughters who were giving William hugs, to his father and then back to his mother. Eliza, Timothy's wife, watched from the doorway.

“I guessed it would be nearly time for the cut out party.” In spite of her pale fragility her eyes shone. “I can see I've arrived just in time.”

“Who is looking after Wildu Creek?”

“Young Tom is a keen worker and Gulda and Daisy are there. I thought we should be together for this occasion. Something happy to pin our hopes on.”

“I hope you haven't gone to too much trouble.” Joseph was still shocked by her pale face and the extra wrinkles he noticed under her eyes.

“It's never any trouble to cook for cut out.”

“Millie and Mary have been doing the same. I think we'll have plenty.”

“Millie?” His mother's eyebrows arched.

“Binda's sister is staying with us for a while. She's an excellent cook.”

“And housekeeper? I noticed a row of shirts strung on the line and a rug hanging over the back fence. I thought it was odd. You'd all be too busy for that.”

“Millie has been a big help.”

More than Joseph had expected. She had lifted the spirits of the whole household, except perhaps Binda who was prone to watching his sister when she was near like an eagle seeking prey. Robert was happier, William lost his sullen look when she was about and Joseph had been delighted to hear her laughing with Mary and Jundala last night as they cleaned up in the kitchen. Even though he'd been achingly tired he'd lain in bed listening as they chatted and giggled. He had no idea what they were talking about but the happy sound lulled him into a deep sleep.

“I will go and see where she would like the food then. Are we to eat in the house?”

“Too many of us now I think.”

“It will be a mild evening. What about under the gum tree near your back garden fence?”

“It sounds fine to me.” Joseph reached out and took her small hand in his. Hers looked so delicate in his huge, dirty hand. “Let the young ones do the heavy work.”

She lifted her free hand to his face and gently brushed his cheek. “Don't worry about me, Joseph. I'm not in my dotage yet.”

“Hello, Grandma.” William had come to stand beside them, one little sister dangling from each arm.

Lizzie patted his shoulder. “How much taller you are, William, and you've grown stronger. I expect you've been working as hard as the men.”

Joseph looked down proudly at his son, who had definitely done his share of hard work, then at his two daughters. He bent and kissed both their cheeks. “You've grown taller, Violet.”

“And me, Father?” Esther pulled her shoulders up as high as she could next to Violet.

“Yes you too, Esther.”

“Time to talk later.” Lizzie spun on her heel and called to the girls. “Violet, Esther, come along. We've lots to do to prepare supper for these hungry workers. With everyone helping we'll have a splendid feast ready in two shakes of a lamb's tail.”

Both girls immediately followed their grandma. It didn't surprise him to see Violet do as she was bid but seeing Esther go so willingly was another matter. Perhaps she also had matured like the rest of them.

By the time the food was ready there was a big group gathered under the gum tree. The shearing team were eight in number, plus Binda's family of five including Millie. Joseph and his children were another five, and the Wildu Creek visitors were six, as Eliza and Timothy's son and daughter had also come.

The women had found some railing planks and put them between barrels to make a large table which was loaded with all kinds of vegetables, pies and terrines. The chairs and benches had been brought out from inside and there were cut logs turned up for those who didn't have a seat. A fire was lit a small distance away, no doubt with kangaroo and mutton cooking slowly in its coals. And they'd hung lanterns from the tree and the nearby fence posts. Lizzie had decorated the table with gum leaves and some of the pretty purple branches from the shrubs that were flowering now.

Joseph watched his mother as she carried a large plate, offering the contents to each person gathered. She chatted happily, making sure people were welcome and fed, playing the hostess for him. A lump caught in his throat. Time moved on and his parents weren't as agile as they once were. He'd noticed his father retired early after a day's work now, and was slower to get going in the mornings. His mother's aging had been much more sudden. She'd appeared so frail when she first arrived but now, in the half-light between day and night, she looked more like the woman he remembered.

Joseph spoke to the shearers and thanked them for their work. Their boss was a tough man but fair. He'd kept a steady eye on them and nearly two weeks of shearing had passed with only a few minor injuries to sheep. One man had cut his hand but it had only slowed him up for a while. All in all it had been a successful shearing.

He looked down as a small pair of arms wrapped around his legs. Esther had attached herself to him and by her mournful look he could tell she was tired. He hoisted her to his shoulder and immediately she snuggled close. He relished the sweet smell of her and the softness of her hair against his neck. He took a deep breath to hold back the melancholy that threatened him once more. Tonight was meant to be a celebration. His mother had been right. It felt good to have something happy to think about.

Violet came from the house carrying a board with a loaf of freshly baked bread; behind her followed Mary also carrying a large plate of food. Joseph noticed her hair shone and she wore a clean dress. And then came Millie. His eyes widened at the sight of her. Her hair which usually flowed past her shoulders had been swept up into a bun and was studded with a small sprig of white flowers. Her deep brown eyes sparkled and her mouth was wide in a happy smile. She looked positively radiant as she handed around a plate with cheese and assorted condiments.

He could tell by the looks on the men's faces he wasn't the only one to notice how pretty she looked in her dress with deep maroon stripes and a bodice that hugged her small breasts and nipped in at her narrow waist where it joined the wide skirt that swished as she walked.

“She wears white women's clothes well, my sister.”

Joseph twisted his head at the murmur of Binda's voice. He nudged his friend with his spare elbow. “She's better looking than her brother.”

“We've both got fine-looking sisters.”

Joseph's thoughts went to his little sister, Ellen. A woman now with a child of her own he'd yet to meet. She had certainly got the good looks in his family.

“Millie seems happy here.” Joseph adjusted the heavy weight of the now sleeping Esther in his arms. “I am most grateful for all she's done for my family, especially managing the house like she does.”

Binda turned his big round eyes to Joseph. “I suppose you will want her to stay.”

Joseph frowned. “I thought that was the idea.”

“I had hoped she would find a position with another family.”

“Why?” Joseph glanced at Millie then back at his friend. “Has she told you she's not happy here?”

Binda shook his head. “I'm not happy.”

“Why not?”

Once more he turned his gaze to Joseph. There was a deep sadness in his eyes. “She's my sister but she is …” He sighed and looked back in Millie's direction. One of the men said something that made her laugh. It was a bright happy sound. “Trouble seems to follow her wherever she goes.”

Joseph was going to ask what Binda meant but Millie had arrived in front of him with her plate of food.

“Mary,” she called over her shoulder. “Come and take little Miss Esther to bed so her father can eat in peace.”

Joseph tipped Esther carefully into the crook of his arm. She was indeed asleep. Mary held out her arms and he slid the child to her.

“Thank you, Mary,” he said and lifted a plate from the table so that he could take some of the food Millie offered.

“You should try some of that quandong paste with your cheese.” Millie nodded her head at the deep red mixture in a small pot. “Your mother made it and it's delicious.”

Joseph put a scoop of the paste on his lump of cheese. “Thank you.”

“Why don't you sit down, rest for a bit? Walter over there has a harmonica. He's going to play later.” She flashed a smile at him. “We could dance.”

“Don't be cheeky,” Binda growled. “Joseph is not one of the working men, he's the master of this place.”

“Is he?” Millie turned a mischievous look at her brother. “I thought you were the boss.”

“Millaki!” Binda snapped at her but she'd already spun on her heel and moved on, her skirt billowing behind her.

Joseph couldn't help but chuckle at the fury on his friend's face. “Little sisters,” he said. “They are a trial.”

“Some more than others.” Binda glowered at Millie's back a moment then turned to Joseph. “Where are the shearers going next?”

“Prosser's Run but they won't be there long. Evidently Prosser has sold off a lot of his sheep and only has a small mob left.”

“Why would he do that?”

“He's changing to cattle. I even heard he's going to start building fences.”

Binda scowled. “I'd like to get a close look at the sheep he has left.”

“So would I, my friend, but we'd be wasting our time. Anything that was ours would be long gone. He'd make sure any sheep he had were his own brand.”

They were interrupted by murmurs of delight as Jundala and Mary uncovered the fire pit and removed the meat that had been baking there for several hours. The smell of it set Joseph's mouth watering. He hadn't eaten since the midday break and he suddenly felt very hungry.

He shovelled the last of the cheese into his mouth and clapped Binda on the back. “Let's eat.”

Thomas got slowly off the bed and stretched. His back always ached these days even after rest. He winced as he twisted to pluck his trousers from the hook behind the door.

“Is your back giving you trouble?”

He glanced at Lizzie who was watching him from the bed they had shared in the hut Joseph had built for Binda. “Nothing a night in my own bed won't fix. Besides I never sleep well here.”

“How can a god-fearing man like you can believe in curses, Thomas?”

“I don't. Smith's Ridge doesn't have very good memories for me, that's all.” He ignored her sceptical look. “What about you, Lizzie my sweet? I think you tossed and turned a lot last night.”

Lizzie sat up, swung her legs to the floor and put her hands to her back. “As you say, the bed is not as comfortable as our own at Wildu Creek.”

Thomas laughed. “Perhaps we are getting old. Once upon a time we would have slept anywhere and woken refreshed.”

“Well, at least the noise didn't keep us awake. It all went quiet not long after we left the fire.”

Thomas pulled on his trousers. “Timothy and Eliza would have started for home by now and the shearers were planning to move on to Prosser's Run early. No-one wanted a late night.”

“It will be quiet at Wildu Creek.” Lizzie hooked back the hessian sack that served as a curtain. The early morning light shone through her nightgown revealing her thin silhouette. Thomas frowned at the sight. She had never regained the weight she'd lost when she'd been so sick. It bothered him that she was still so thin.

“Life will be easier for you if the girls are staying here.”

Lizzie turned to him. “It was no bother, Thomas. I loved looking after the dear little lambs.”

“I know.” He crossed the room and wrapped her in his arms. He was gentle, afraid she would break. “But we've just admitted we're not as young as we used to be, and it's better they're with their father.”

“I hope so.” Lizzie pulled back a little and looked up at him. “Did you know Joseph drank?”

Thomas had wondered when she would mention their son's drinking around the fire last night. “A couple of mouthfuls doesn't hurt a man after all the hard work he's put in.”

“It was more than a mouthful. He was unsteady on his feet when we went to bed.”

Thomas shrugged his shoulders. “I am sure it was just the chance to relax for a while.” He pulled Lizzie in again and kissed the top of her head. He had been shocked himself to see Joseph pull out a flask when the shearers did.

“I often think Joseph reminds me of Isaac.” Lizzie's voice was muffled against his bare chest.

“He is like him in some ways.” Thomas knew Lizzie was thinking about her younger brother's battle with liquor. “But they are very different in others. Circumstances and a terrible experience drove Zac to drink. He overcame it.”

“Not forever. If he hadn't been drinking—”

“He may not have drowned, I know, but then perhaps he would have anyway. Plenty of sober men have lost their lives crossing swollen creeks.”

“I worry about Joseph.”

“I think you'll find he's made of stronger stuff. Already he appears much happier. He has something to live for. It was a tragedy to lose Clara but he knows he must go on for the children if not for himself.”

Lizzie moved away and began her own dressing. “He has plenty of home help now at least.”