Dust on the Horizon (53 page)

“Where do you live, Mr Aldridge?” Catherine's question drew his gaze back to her. She sat perfectly still, her hands in her lap.

“In the hills to the east.”

“That's where my husband has property.”

“Yes.” Jack started on the food. Hunger gnawed in his stomach. “We are close.”

“Oh. I didn't realise you knew my husband.”

Jack wagged a finger towards her plate. “Please eat, Catherine. I hope you don't mind me using your first name but since we are sharing a meal I would prefer it, and you must call me Jack.”

A lock of hair fell forward on her face. He reached across and swept it back gently, his fingers brushing her cheek. Her eyes widened. His fingers trailed down her neck.

Catherine gasped. The sound excited Jack more. Damn the food, he would take her now. He knew how to make her more than gasp, she'd be squirming with delight at his touch.

A thud and a thump sounded from somewhere in the house.

Catherine jerked away from his hand. He could see the terror in her eyes, no doubt at the interruption.

“Mother.” A boy's voice called in the distance.

Jack scowled. Damn, it sounded like the blasted housekeeper had returned with Catherine's child.

Catherine stood. “You're most welcome to finish your meal, Mr Aldridge, but I would prefer Mrs Nixon and my son didn't know you were here.”

“Mother!” The call was more urgent now.

She crossed to the door. “I will meet them in the kitchen. I expect you will be gone soon. Good night, Mr Aldridge.”

Open-mouthed, Jack watched as she left, shutting the door behind her.

Catherine moved down the hall on shaking legs. She patted her hair with trembling fingers and bit back the sob that threatened to burst from her mouth. Thank the dear Lord for Mrs Nixon's return or who knows what Jack Aldridge might have done next.

“Mother?” Charles appeared, silhouetted in the kitchen door.

“Yes, my darling, I'm coming.”

He puffed out his chest. “I was one of the best singers.”

“The concert went well then?” Catherine ushered her son back to the kitchen, her mind a whirl of terrified thoughts. What had she been thinking, all alone and letting a stranger into her house?

Flora looked up, the pie Catherine had left out in her hands. “It went very well. The children performed wonderfully. Mr Harry has done a fine job with them.”

“You should have been there, Mother.” Charles's tone was accusatory.

“I'm sorry, my darling.” Catherine ruffled his hair, her fingers still trembling. “I will be next time, I'm sure.”

“Have you eaten supper?” Flora cut a piece of pie for Charles.

“Yes. I was tired and hungry when I returned from the shop.”

Flora moved closer and patted her arm. “You do look pale. Do you have a headache? Can I get you something?”

Flora's kindness was nearly Catherine's undoing. They'd become such good friends and she badly wanted to tell someone about Jack Aldridge's terrifying visit but Flora would most likely insist they tell Henry. He'd been so touchy of late she didn't want to burden him. She had managed to extricate herself from Jack's clutches and she would never let him in the house again.

A door banged from the front of the house.

Catherine's hand went to her chest. Her heart beat rapidly beneath her shirt.

“What was that?” Flora looked towards the hall.

“The wind must have caught a door.”

Flora's gaze locked with Catherine's. She studied her mistress with a puzzled expression then turned back to the bench. They both knew the night was still, not a breath of air moved outside.

Catherine closed her eyes and sent a silent prayer that the bang had been Jack letting himself out the front door. She would be checking the locks on every door and window after Flora went home and tonight she would need a large dose of her regular tonic to calm her nerves and help her sleep.

Forty-five

William shadowed Millie and Eliza along the main street of Hawker. They had made stops at nearly every business except the hotels, and it wouldn't surprise him if they even called in there. For two women with little money to spend they had done a lot of shopping. There were all the usual supplies already stashed in the wagon and several extras. They were all looking forward to his father being home for Christmas.

The road was busy with carts and wagons, several loaded with bales of wool. A herd of emaciated cattle were moving about forlornly in a holding yard near the railway station. The sky was grey with a thin layer of cloud but the sun-bleached earth radiated heat. Everywhere he looked dust was thick in the air.

William watched as a camel train passed heading north. There were twelve camels each loaded with timber, no doubt bound for the silver mine in the north.

“My goodness it's hot.” Millie came out of the saddlers shop, yet another brown paper parcel in her hands, closely followed by Eliza. She smiled at William and handed over her package.

“I think it's time for lemonade.” Eliza gave William the slightly smaller parcel she carried.

“Good morning, Mrs Baker, Mrs Castles, William.”

They smiled and nodded at Dr Bruehl as he lifted his hat and continued on his way. William was grateful to the doctor who always made the effort to make people feel at ease, unlike some of the locals who still looked down their nose at Millie. Both women had passed Mr Wiltshire's shop without so much as a sideways glance. The Bakers never shopped there.

“Can you bring the wagon, please William?” Millie gave him one of her brilliant smiles. “Eliza and I will walk over to the hotel and have some refreshments in the side room. I'm sure you'd enjoy a cool drink too.”

William nodded. “I have some gifts to buy first. I will join you later.”

Millie smiled and put her dark hand to his cheek. “You're such a thoughtful young man, William. Don't spend all your hard-earned money.”

“I won't.”

He watched the two women walk away. They were an odd pair. Millie short, petite and dark, Eliza tall and broad and fair.

William carried the two parcels he'd been given to the wagon. He found a place for their shopping but wondered how all three of them were to fit on the journey home. He was pondering this as he stepped backwards to the verandah and didn't notice someone coming the other way.

“Goodness, watch where you're going.” The tone was authoritarian, the voice familiar. He looked into the pale green eyes of Georgina Prosser and a lump formed in his throat.

“I'm sorry.” His voice squeaked. It hadn't done that for some time. He cleared his throat.

“William?”

Her mouth turned up in a smile and his heart gave a thump.

“It is you, William Baker?”

He swallowed. “Yes. Hello, Georgina.” In the time since he'd last seen her she'd become a young woman.

“I've not long arrived back in Hawker. I came on the train.” She brushed her hands down her skirt. “What a tedious journey that is. I'd much rather ride a horse. At least I can from here to Prosser's Run. Father has bought me a new horse for Christmas.” She put a hand on William's arm. “Would you like to meet him? The horse that is, not Father.” She grinned and the dull day seemed brighter.

He never thought about clothes much but next to Georgina he felt plain in his rough shirt and patched pants. He'd grown so much these last few months the pants only came to his ankles. She on the other hand was wearing a vivid green skirt that reflected the colour of her eyes. Her shirt was crisp white with ruffles of lace running down the centre either side of the buttons. Perched on her thick red curls was a hat that matched her skirt. Her clothes fitted her perfectly and she was the prettiest girl William had ever seen.

“Are you going to stand there catching flies or come with me?”

William blinked. He had to move the wagon but it would be all right where it was for now and his shopping could wait. “I'd like to see your horse,” he said.

They walked side by side along the shop verandahs until they came to the last one where Georgina turned right towards some stables. All the while she talked about Adelaide and how she hated school there. William loved the sound of her voice, and the way she chattered brightly reminded him of his grandma.

Just before they reached the stables she stopped abruptly, forcing William to do the same.

“What's that smell?” Her dainty nose scrunched up and her lips turned down.

William looked around. There was a trough full of water beside them. “It's the water.” He'd noticed the terrible stench when he'd tried to water the horses as soon as they'd arrived in Hawker. “The horses won't drink it.”

Georgina fanned her face. “Didn't they build a new reservoir?”

“Yes but I've heard the water lies in the pipes too long and by the time it comes out it smells rotten.”

“Oh. I do hope Father has found something for my new horse to drink.”

“Of course I have Georgina.” Ellis Prosser strode out of the stables. “Where have you been? I've been waiting.”

“Sorry, Father.” Georgina's smile slipped. “Mother wanted me to go with her to the dress shop.”

Ellis Prosser shook his head. Then he noticed William. “And what are you doing with a stable boy?”

William felt his cheeks burn. He drew back his shoulders but before he could speak Georgina did.

“He's not a stable boy, Father. This is our old neighbour, William Baker.”

Ellis Prosser's eyes widened and he looked William up and down. “I never would have recognised you, boy.”

Now William didn't feel simply plain, he felt shabby. Mr Prosser had a way of looking that made him feel as if he was nothing more than a piece of horse dung.

“Good morning, Mr Prosser.” He thrust out his hand. Prosser either didn't notice or he ignored it.

“Come along, Georgina. We have to check this saddle is right. I want to set off for home as soon as we've eaten our midday meal.” He strode back towards the stables.

Georgina gave William one of her brilliant smiles. “It was nice seeing you again, William. I will be home for two months over summer. Perhaps we will meet up again.”

He smiled and nodded, once more struck speechless.

She turned to follow her father. Her skirt flashed with a hint of brighter green in spite of the dull day and then she was gone, swallowed up by the shadows inside the stables.

William turned and made his way back towards the wagon. How could someone as nice as Georgina be the daughter of such a pompous prig as Ellis Prosser? Now he had a better understanding of why his father didn't like the man. Mr Wiltshire was similar, looking down his nose at the Bakers. William paused beside a shop. He looked up and realised he was outside the very same Mr Wiltshire's shop.

The money in his pocket was there to be spent. William had worked hard to get it. He'd had to strip the wool from the poor sheep that hadn't been strong enough to survive the terrible conditions. Money was money and Mr Wiltshire would have to accept William's the same as anyone else's. He went to the window. A large tree decorated with red bows almost filled the space beyond the glass but William could see the young man behind the counter was not Mr Wiltshire. He pushed open the door and went inside.

There were other customers in the shop and William had to wait his turn to be served but now he was feeling much happier. He bought sweets for each of his siblings along with some marbles for Robert and some chalk for his sisters' slates. For Grandpa, Father and Millie he picked out a fine cotton handkerchief, each with their first initial embroidered in the corner. That was nearly all his money gone. He wandered around the shop looking for something he might buy for himself. A whole set of new clothes that fitted would be good but he didn't have the money for that. A flash of emerald green caught his eye. It was a wide ribbon that shone in the reflection of the shop lamps. Immediately he thought of Georgina. He decided he would buy a length. He didn't know when but one day he would give it to her.

“The wagon is still where we left it.” Eliza turned to Millie. “William said he wanted to shop.”

“He shouldn't take this long.” Millie looked up and down the street. Several people walked along the road or along the shop verandahs but none of them were William. She told herself he would be here somewhere but ever since Jack's last visit she was edgy when people weren't where they were supposed to be. She felt the weight of responsibility for Joseph's children, even more so now their grandmother was dead. “You wait with the wagon. I'll look in the shops.”

Millie hurried down the street, peering in the windows as she went. Finally she saw him, and it was such a relief she didn't stop to see which shop she'd arrived at. She opened the door. A bell rang over her head and the man behind the counter looked up from the woman he was serving. He was young with his dark hair oiled flat on his head. Millie saw his expression change straight away. Just as she realised where she was, the door from the back opened and Henry Wiltshire stepped up to the counter. He peered at Millie and she saw the shock register on his face. He glanced at the customers who all appeared busy.

Millie looked in William's direction. He was picking through a pile of belts and hadn't noticed her arrival. She kept her back straight and walked steadily across the room in his direction. She'd been looked down on by better people than Henry Wiltshire. She cared little for him but she did care about William. Before she could reach him Henry stepped in front of her.

“What are you doing in my shop?” he hissed.

William came to stand beside her.

“Shopping,” he said.

Henry glowered from Millie to William. “You can't afford to shop in my establishment.”

“I already have.”

Millie could see the other customers had noticed them and were all watching with interest. She was astounded to see William almost strut across the room, nod at the assistant and pick up some parcels from the counter.