Matilda's Freedom (21 page)

‘And repent at leisure …’ She gave Bonnie a watery smile.

It all seemed like a lifetime ago. Had she really been so naive as to believe that the handsome man sitting across from her at the Bainbridge’s—with a flick of his oh, so elegant wrist—would be able to whisk away all her problems? She should have seen it for the coincidence it truly was.

Kit had offered a solution to her dilemma, and she had foolishly accepted it, hoping it might lead further. It was not his fault she had fallen in love with him. It was not his fault she harboured foolish, unrealistic dreams about love and marriage.

She thought about the kind of love and marriage her parents had enjoyed. Their love had been strong enough to withstand the ravages of separation and distance, the trials and tribulations of a new start, and the eking out a living in a barren land. They had pride, a belief in themselves, and—above all—love. That was a heritage that she had abused.

Matilda twisted the velvet ribbon that hung around her neck, wrenched it free and flung the love token across the floor. None of this was Kit’s fault. He hadn’t led her on. He hadn’t given her unrealistic expectations. No, it was a rather strange and puzzling attraction they had for each other that had drawn her to him in like a moth to a flame.

Bonnie walked across the room and picked up the copper disc, turning it over and over in her work-worn fingers. ‘I think you need to have a little more faith in yourself and the power of love.’

‘I have no faith in the power of love. I have thrown away any right to love.’

She had thrown herself into Kit’s arms in the same way her father had thrown himself into the path of the fire, in a vain attempt to save the property he had worked so hard for—and what had she done? She’d thrown herself into the arms of a man to save the very same property her father had died for.

It was a nasty and vicious circle, and she intended to break it.

‘Rain or no rain, I really need to leave. The thought of Kit coming back here and me having to go through this all over again is more than I can bear. Are you absolutely certain there is no way out of the valley?’

‘There isn’t. We’re all locked in until these waters drop. There’s no safe path over the hills, and the three creeks have form a barrier. Wollombi isn’t called “meeting place of the waters” for nothing.’

‘Can’t I go back up to the cave and then cut over the top? From there I can drop down onto the Great North Road and go through to St Albans.’

‘Even if you could do that, it’s out of the question. You’d never get across the common, and the Hawkesbury River will be flooding after all this rain. I wouldn’t recommend anyone try swimming that. I’ve done it once, and once was enough. We were lucky to get away with it.’

‘I’ve got to go. I can’t sit around here doing nothing.’ Matilda paced backwards and forwards like a caged dingo. Her outburst had stripped her of all emotion, and she needed physical activity.

‘I am going to walk down to the town,’ Bonnie said, ‘to see what is happening and to find out how everyone has fared. Hopefully, I can help. Would you like to come with me?’

‘No, Bonnie. Thank you, but if you don’t mind I would like stay here. I have a lot of thinking to do.’

Matilda would consider the situation, but she had no chance of coming to any rational conclusion. Not with the memory of Kit standing in front of her, in this very room, uppermost in her mind. She had to get away.

Kit sat astride his horse and watched the girls as they followed Jem to the edge of the billabong. He knew he ought to escort them back to the house, but he trusted Jem and he could not leave the situation with Matilda in such an unsatisfactory fashion. He had to go back and speak with her, away from the prying eyes and ears of the rest of the world.

How their conversation had gone so very wrong, he didn’t know. Everyone else recognised that he was in love with her, so why didn’t she?

Sidestepping the potholes, he wheeled his horse around. Kit no longer railed against the floodwater—it was now his ally. As long as the roads stayed blocked, Matilda would not be able to leave.

‘Jem, take the girls back to the house. I am returning to Bonnie’s to talk to Matilda. I can’t leave things between us like this.

‘No point in goin’ back, boss. She’s not there.’

His stomach sank. How could she have left? There was no way out.

Jem’s pointed finger indicated the top of the ridge. Kit squinted and stared up at the tree line. High on the ridge, he caught a flash of white between the trees.

‘She’s goin’ up to Tiddalik by the look of things.’

Pushing his hat back off his head, Kit gazed up at the hill and followed the glimpses of her white shirt as she wove through the trees. Why in heaven’s name would she be going up there?

‘Better get yourself up there if you wanna talk to her.’

‘I want to talk to her, but it looks she doesn’t want to talk to me—or anyone else for that matter. I told her I would be back at Bonnie’s as soon as I had the girls safely home.’

‘You get yourself up there and stop all this muckin’ around.’ As he spoke, Jem slid off his horse. ‘Take my horse and the saddlebags. That way you got some supplies and some light if you spend the night up there.’ The disappearance of the Aborigine’s eyebrow beneath the brim of his hat was the only sign that he offered anything other than sound advice. Kit took that offer as it was intended.

They swapped horses under the watchful eyes of both Beth and Hannah. ‘Tell your mother I’m fine, but I have to go and talk to Matilda. She’ll understand. I’ll be back home as soon as I can.’

‘Don’t worry, Kit—we’ll sort Mother out. Just make sure you get Matilda back for us. We don’t want her running away anymore than you do.’

He tossed a wry grin at his younger sister and turned to leave.

‘Boss, go back along the Morpeth way and cut up before Slack’s Creek. You’ll get there ahead of her and then you can have the billy on.’

‘Thanks, Jem.’ He lifted his hat in farewell and took off down the road at a gallop. Water splashed up from the road and covered his back, but he didn’t care. If Jem was right and Kit arrived before Matilda, it would make their meeting a bit easier. They would have more of a chance to sort out this mess away from prying eyes, anyway.

Her reaction when he had spoken to her had confused the hell out of him, but he only had himself to blame.

Slack’s Creek had spread across to the surrounding paddocks, so Kit scanned the foothills for another route. The remains of the old government hut—once the headquarters of the road and bridge building parties—scarred the lower slopes of the hill. He walked his horse up a path that used to be the main thoroughfare to Wollombi and then picked out a wallaby track. As the track cut up into the hills, he turned right.

The slow meander up on horseback frustrated Kit. More than once, he toyed with the idea of walking, but he persevered and eventually found himself standing before the high rock wall that signposted his destination. There was little noise, save for the odd birdcall and the incessant trickle of water over rock as it worked its way down to the valley below.

Kit unsaddled the horse and tethered it. Then he slung the saddlebags over his shoulders and climbed up into the cave. The remains of the fire from the girls’ visit were now well and truly cold. He scouted around, gathering a few dry branches and sticks from below the rock overhang, but then saw the neat pile of timber stacked in one corner of the cave.

Jem and his mates obviously kept the cave well-stocked; he wondered how often it was used. The last time he’d been there was when he had mapped the property with Barclay, but maybe this was one of the places Jem disappeared to when he said he was going walkabout. He’d long given up questioning the Aborigine, who pretty much came and went as he liked but still managed to be on hand in an emergency.

With the fire lit and the billy boiling, he sat back to wait. He hoped this wasn’t one of the rare times Jem would be proven wrong.

About half an hour later, he realised his trust in Jem’s instincts had not been misplaced. He watched from his perch as Matilda walked her horse along the track, her white shirt easily spotted through the scrub and spindly trees. Resisting the temptation to rush out and greet her, he sat back quietly by the fire and listened instead to the snapping of twigs as she walked.

‘Jem? Is that you, Jem?’ Her voice was tentative. ‘I know there’s someone there because I can smell smoke.’ The heels of her boots slipped on the rocky pathway at the cave’s entrance and made a scrabbling noise, but as she reached the sandy cave floor, her footfalls softened.

Kit sat waiting silently—if she heard his voice, would she flee? His patience was rewarded moments later as Matilda’s head came into view.

‘What are you doing here?’ Her shoulders sank, her voice exhausted. It was as though something had drained her of all energy and the mere effort of speaking was more than she could manage.

‘I’m getting to dislike that greeting, Matilda. That’s the second time today.’ Kit pushed himself to his feet, fighting the desire to pull her into his arms. He had no intention of making the same kind of mistake he’d made back at Bonnie’s, but he didn’t know how to deal with this new Matilda. He wanted the girl with the golden hair and wide smile back, the girl that made his heart sing and his blood run hot. Not this imitation. Not this pale and drained replica of his love.

‘Well, you keep turning up when I least expect it.’

‘We need to talk.’

‘That’s the second time today you’ve said that, too.’ A confused frown flittered across her brow, and her head tilted to one side. She sank down on the floor on the opposite side of the fire.

Respecting her apparent desire to keep a distance between them, he settled onto his haunches and gazed across at her pinched white face. Her eyes were red-rimmed, and he could tell she had been crying.

God, he’d made a mess of things. How he wished he could rewind the clock all the way back to the moment he’d been sitting beside her in her cottage bed. ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’ How banal that sounded. All he wanted to do was to pull her into his arms, wipe away her tears and tell her how much he loved her.

She inclined her head. ‘You’re well prepared. I was anticipating a cold, damp night up here.’

‘Jem,’ he said.

Matilda nodded. ‘Jem. I thought it was him up here when I saw his horse.’

‘We swapped horses at the billabong. He’s taken the girls home.’

‘How did you know I was up here?’

‘Jem,’ he said again.

‘Jem seems to be the font of all knowledge. What else does he know?’

‘I think he sees more than all of us put together; he just doesn’t say much.’ It was a pretty meaningless discussion, and he hadn’t come up here to talk about Jem. He wanted to talk about what Matilda was planning to do, and about his mother and everything he had learnt, but he supposed the meaningless discussion might put them back on an easy footing. That was more important than anything else at the moment. ‘Jem told me to stop mucking around.’

‘Oh, so you’re taking advice from your stockmen now?’ The first tentative flicker of a smile teased the corner of her mouth.

‘I’ll take advice wherever it’s offered, as long as it’s the right advice.’ As he spoke, she leaned forward and prodded the fire with a stick, sending a flurry of sparks to the roof of the cave.

‘Jem showed me the handprints at the back of cave. Then he told us the story of Tiddalik, who was too greedy, and spoiled everything for everyone.’ Something snagged in his chest as Matilda’s voice wavered. ‘I think I’ve been greedy, too. I don’t want to spoil everything for everyone, and that’s why I have to leave.’

Kit let out a long, low sigh that made the smoke from the fire spiral and blow across at Matilda. Tears spilled down her cheeks—whether from the smoke or her words, he had no idea—and for the second time that day, he had to resist the desire to take her in his arms and kiss away her misery.

Matilda could not stop the tears that trickled down her cheeks and made no attempt to wipe them away. The sting from the smoke was like an absolution, grounding her.

Much to her surprise, she had been pleased that Kit had been waiting for her in the cave. It was better that they talked this through and Matilda explain why she couldn’t stay. She wanted to make her reasons clear to him, and perhaps in doing so, she would understand her own reactions better as well.

‘Kit, I wasn’t entirely honest with you from the beginning.’ There. That was a start and hadn’t been too difficult. As the tears cleared from her eyes, she found his black eyes fixed firmly on hers. He’d removed his hat. In the warmth of the fire, his hair had begun to curl around his ears and catch in his collar. It had grown since they had first met and had softened his looks, making him appear gentler, more relaxed, and less of the man about town.

‘When you offered me the position of companion I was happy to accept. It provided an immediate solution to my dilemma.’

He acknowledged her comment, but she raised her hand to halt his words.

‘But I also thought perhaps there was more to our meeting. I entertained the possibility that you would find me attractive and we might one day marry.’

The heat of the fire had little to do with the flush that covered her face, but she pushed her discomfort aside and continued. ‘Once I spent some time at The Gate, however, I knew it could never be. Your mother was right—I did have ideas above my station, but I threw them away long before she made her remarks. It was obvious we could never be wed. When you started talking about Eliza and all the things she offered you, I knew I could never compete. I don’t have any connections, and I don’t have the social skills to be a society wife. I had nothing to offer you and would be a disgrace to you and your family.’

Kit rocked back away from the fire and looked as though he was going to stand. She didn’t want him to. She couldn’t go on with this, not if he moved any closer, not if she could feel his warmth and inhale his scent.

‘Go on.’ His voice was low, almost angry. She knew she was offending him and making him see her in a different light, but she had to explain.