The Great Plains (20 page)

Serena stood at the edge of the barren field long after José had left. She bit at her nails and picked at the skin near the quicks until they began to bleed. It was mid-morning when she returned to the house. The fire had gone out and in the dim interior the place looked poor and ill-kept. Serena moved about, tidying the room as the baby began to whimper. She wiped dirt and crumbs from the table, carried the wash basin outside, emptied it of water and stacked dishes on a wooden shelf. From the bed she shared with José, she snatched up the patchwork quilt that belonged to Philomena and then packed her few belongings into a deer-skin sack.

The baby was light in her arms, lighter than yesterday. It mewed and yawned and whined as Serena touched the downy skin of the child's face, placing a light kiss on her forehead. George had always foreseen death and Serena refused to wait for another child of hers to die. It was best if the baby stayed here for its final days, best for everyone. José would not come after her if his child remained. She swaddled the infant tenderly and lay the child in the narrow cot.

‘It's the best I can do,' she whispered to the crying baby, to herself. ‘The best I can do, little one.' She touched the child one last time and then lifted Abelena onto her hip and threw the sack over her shoulder. The baby screamed as she walked outside and closed the door.

‘Some things just have to be done, Abelena, even though I want them undone.'

‘What things?' the child asked. ‘Is the baby coming with us?'

‘No,' she said firmly, then more kindly, ‘we're going for a walk. A long walk. Uncle George and your brother will catch up with us later.'

Abelena dabbed at Serena's cheek with a finger. ‘Are you crying, Mumma?'

They walked to where the cornfield began. At its edge Serena sniffed the air and then turned northwards, away from Oklahoma City and Fort Sill. ‘No, I'm not crying. It's only dirt in my eye.'

May, 1924 – Oklahoma City, Oklahoma

‘Am I interrupting?'

Edmund and Wes ceased talking on Tobias's approach. They were standing outside the stables where the new stable boy Bob was leading Edmund's horse, Okie, in a circle. The stallion was enjoying his retirement, although Edmund felt guilty every time he rode out with Sheriff Cadell and left his old friend behind.

‘I think he's fine, Mr Wade, sir,' Bob confirmed. ‘Just needed to have a bit of a nail cut and get re-shod.'

‘Good.' Edmund observed the gait of his horse as the boy walked Okie back inside his stall.

‘I wondered where you two got to.' Tobias joined them and the three men began to walk back towards the house.

Edmund cleared his throat. ‘It appears we have some difficulties in Australia. Stealing, to be exact.'

‘Stealing? What, who's stealing and what are they stealing?' Tobias asked.

Edmund opened the gate that led into the garden. A narrow stone path curved from the rear of the house past a small herb garden, across a swathe of lawn and then the resting place of Philomena. His cousin lay at the foot of a redbud tree that he'd planted after her passing. It was a small tree with a short, almost twisted trunk but its spreading branches ensured that dappled sunlight favoured the spot. Pausing by the grave, Edmund picked a spray of dark pink flowers from the tree. He held the buds to his nose in thoughtful contemplation and then sat them at the foot of the redbud.

‘Our new accountant, Henderson, has picked up some discrepancies in the station books. He thinks the thievery has been going on for a while now.'

‘How long have you known about this, Father?'

‘A few months,' Edmund admitted. ‘I wanted to make sure Henderson was correct before acting.'

‘So what's been taken?' Tobias asked.

‘Monies and livestock.' Edmund caught Wes's eye before addressing his son. ‘The books have been altered, stock numbers falsified.'

Tobias ran a hand through blond hair. ‘But that means that Hugh –'

‘Exactly.' Edmund led them towards the front porch, where they all sat in sturdy wooden chairs.

‘But why?' Tobias frowned. ‘It's not like he doesn't earn a tidy sum. He's his own man down there, completely in control and he's been there for years. Why would he start stealing now?'

‘From what Henderson tells me, it may well have been going on for a long time.'

‘I never did take to Hocking.' Wes, who'd remained quiet since the stables, began to drum his fingers on the arm of his chair.

‘So what happens now?' Tobias queried.

‘I'm sending Wes to Australia as soon as possible. He can investigate the situation and then contact the local authorities.'

Wes cracked his knuckles.

‘But why not me?' Tobias argued. ‘Or at least let me go as well, Father.'

‘No. Wes has firsthand experience when it comes to dealing with outlaws and riding with the law. He's spent many a year in the saddle with Sheriff Cadell and I, and he has age to back up his experience.'

‘But that's unfair!' Tobias rose to his feet. ‘It's our property, I'm your son. I should be the one going.'

‘Don't make a scene, Tobias. I have made my decision and it's final.'

Tobias walked inside the house and slammed the front door.

‘He could come,' Wes suggested.

Edmund pinched the bridge of his nose. ‘I keep thinking back to when my father was alive, to his friendship with Hugh's father, Clarence.'

‘So it's retaliation for something from the past?' Wes delved. ‘Hocking's got a long memory if that's the case.'

‘The two families go back a very long way,' Edmund replied. ‘Hugh's father came across from Charleston with my father and uncle in the mid-1800s.'

‘Well, short of murder there's no excuse for Hocking's behaviour. You trusted him, made him a wealthy man and this is how he's repaid you. The man should be hung.'

Edmund bristled. ‘You're representing me when you arrive in Australia, Wes, don't forget that. I'll have no unnecessary force used on Hugh. Simply report our findings to the local authorities and relieve Hugh of his position.'

‘Of course.'

Both men rose.

‘I'll have someone check on departure dates. We should be able to have you aboard a vessel by the end of June at the latest. Thank you, Wes.' They shook hands. ‘I know I can depend on you.'

‘You can be sure of that, Edmund.'

‘You'll be in charge down there until we can find someone to take over Hocking's position. We might buy you one of those newfangled Leica cameras then you can take some photographs of the property for me and send them over.'

Wes grinned. ‘I never really pictured myself as one of those fancy photographer types.'

Edmund raised an eyebrow. ‘Neither did I. Now I best go and find Tobias. He takes after his mother when it comes to sulking.'

September, 1925 – east of Guthrie, Oklahoma

Edmund reined the horse in and waited for the Longhorn cattle to cross the Cimarron River. The beasts baulked at the width of water and the cowboys hollered and pushed up against the recalcitrant animals. A lead cow sniffed tentatively and then, pushed forward by the hundred head bellowing behind her, she stepped into the water. The rest of the herd followed gradually for a time and then, sensing the waterway before them, they grew testy and began to scatter left and right. The men hired to find these stolen beasts galloped after the animals that tried to break free. The cows ran along the river's sandy edges and tried to head away from the water but they were soon brought to heel. Great arcs of water rose into the air, cow hide glistened, then the shallow waters gave way to a deeper, central channel and the herd began to swim. Sheriff Cadell rode across from where he'd been waiting along the riverbank and nodded a greeting to Edmund.

‘A job well done, Edmund.' The sheriff folded one gloved hand over another. He'd lassoed more than one thief today and they were yet to find the ringleader. ‘I'll be needing a deputy soon,' he hinted.

Edmund chuckled. ‘So you keep telling me.'

‘And you keep saying no.'

‘I'm past such commissions.'

‘Rubbish,' the sheriff argued. ‘I'm sixty-five, only five years older than you.'

The men watched as the cows found their feet in the shallows and began to clamber up the far bank. The last of the cowboys were swimming their horses through the water. At the rear of the herd, behind the professional men, Tobias, now nearing thirty years of age, raced his horse against one of the hired help. Fine featured, blond-haired and congenial of disposition, Tobias was slow to mature and Edmund recognised himself in the boy at the same age. Tobias had stepped out with many girls but his disinterest thwarted even the keenest of women. Edmund wondered if Annie were alive, whether she could find his boy a decent match, but then her last attempt, Chloe, could not be classed as successful.

‘I'd have given the deputy position to Wes,' the sheriff told Edmund. ‘He wanted it, but of course he never would have accepted without your permission and then you went and gave him the adventure of a lifetime. How's he doing in Australia?'

‘Going by his letters, I'm wondering if he'll ever want to return home.'

‘And Hocking?' the sheriff asked.

‘Wes has decided to monitor him for a while. He thinks he's the one stealing the livestock, not any of the other stockmen, as they're called down there. He's certainly taken over the management of the property with gusto.'

‘Why didn't he just report Hocking immediately? You had evidence.'

Edmund flicked the reins. ‘That's what I would have done, but Wes was adamant that he'd handle it his way. I can only trust his instincts. It will be hard enough to prove Hocking embezzled funds. We have no evidence to suggest he was the one stealing sheep as well.'

They were only a few miles ride east of the town of Guthrie. Guthrie, once the capital following the official proclamation of statehood in 1907 by President Roosevelt, had declined quickly after Oklahoma City had wrested the capital mantle back in 1910. They planned on staying a few nights there and then catching the short train ride back to Oklahoma City. Edmund still had conflicting memories of November 16, 1907 when Governor Haskell took his oath of office outside Guthrie's Carnegie Library. Prior to the ceremony, the gathered crowd watched a mock wedding ceremony. A man dressed as a cowboy ‘married' a woman costumed as an Indian, symbolically marking the marriage of the twin territories to become the Union's forty-sixth state. The event still reminded Edmund of Philomena, for the Miss Indian Territory didn't look Indian at all.

Guthrie had been their base for the last few weeks, with Edmund having organised to have his mail forwarded to their rooms in the town for the duration of his absence. The newspaper was being managed by a young man who'd risen up through the ranks and Ellen, their ever diligent housekeeper, along with the stable boy, were tending to the Wade house and grounds.

‘Tobias seems to have settled down to life here,' the sheriff commented.

‘He likes the open spaces and the frontier history of Oklahoma. Plus, I think he's quite pleased to be away from his mother.'

‘A man has to follow his own path eventually,' Cadell replied. ‘Anyway, he should be with you, not closeted with womenfolk.'

Edmund had to agree with his old friend. Chloe had given up trying to cajole Tobias back to Dallas, although she'd done her best to sully Edmund's name with her version of Philomena's life and death.

‘Are you and Tobias heading to Australia at some stage?'

‘Me?' Edmund stretched out his shoulders. ‘A long time ago I thought about it. In some respects I regret having not journeyed with Hugh when he first travelled there, but now I find myself quite content with my life, and this place is in my blood. I doubt that I'll ever leave Oklahoma. Besides, I'm getting a bit old to be gallivanting around the world.'

‘And your son?'

‘I'd like Tobias to go there one day.'

Sheriff Cadell didn't look convinced. ‘We've been friends for a long time, Edmund, since we found Thomas hanging from that bridge all those years ago. I hope you don't mind me saying this but I'd rather see you go to Australia than sit around here in Oklahoma City waiting to see if Serena shows up again. Your father was a kind man, but you can be
too kind
, if you get my meaning.'

‘I'm not staying for Serena. She could be dead for all I know,' Edmund said curtly. ‘But I do have a certain attachment to my life here. My parents are buried here. My businesses are here.'

‘But you're talking about sending your boy away.'

‘Yes, when the time is right. Tobias needs to be acquainted with all our business interests, but he's been slow to mature in some ways and quite wild in others, which is why I didn't let him accompany Wes. I would have liked to have seen him married by now, not keeping the company of loose women after dark.'

Cadell rubbed a saddle-greasy glove against a stubbly cheek. ‘Well, he's been a sly one in that regard. You'd think he was one of nature's gentlemen.'

‘He says he's not met anyone who takes his fancy, but he's too busy dipping his wick to court a proper young lady,' Edmund shared with dissatisfaction.

‘That's a down-right calamity,' the sheriff agreed. ‘A man should be able to handle a gentrified wife and his whores, you need not necessarily love the first.'

‘Anyway, one day Tobias can go to Australia. I think it will be the making of him and it will get him away from the Wade family history. Philomena's story has been like an albatross around my family's neck for too long. I don't want to see Tobias entangled in it. Two generations is enough.'

‘I don't blame you,' Cadell replied.

They crossed a wooden bridge, passing a Ford pick-up truck coming in the opposite direction. Both men squinted as they rode through the dust. With Edmund's burning of the legal documents that proclaimed Serena his father's ward, the substantial inheritance which belonged firstly to Philomena and had then passed to Serena had been placed in trust for Tobias instead. At times Edmund did feel guilty, especially when he thought of Philomena's request to help her grandchild if she ever asked for assistance, but he needed to wipe the slate clean for his son.

They urged their horses away from the river and wound their way through thick trees until they were out in open country again.

‘I told you what happened the last time I saw Serena,' Edmund continued when they were on the dirt track that ran parallel to the river. ‘It was five years ago and Philomena's son was with her. They came straight to the house bold as you please and asked for money. The boy, George, persisted, practically demanded it. He even had the audacity to claim the rights of a blood relative, told me he was entitled. I punched him in the nose.'

The sheriff did his best not to chuckle. ‘Damn Injuns. She was a troublesome little thing that Serena, pretty as, but real trouble.'

‘The thing is,' Edmund turned his nose up, ‘I keep thinking about those two children. The ones she brought with her that day – a boy and a girl.'

‘More relatives, eh?'

‘Exactly. There are still living and breathing descendants of Philomena's wandering around out there.' He gestured with an arm. ‘Heck, they could be living on the edge of Oklahoma City for all I know.'

The sheriff stopped to light a cigarette. ‘It'd be a hard thing for any family to live with, I'll grant you that. But you have to forget about them, Edmund. They aren't your concern anymore, they were never your concern. Serena made sure of that.'

‘I know, but it doesn't mean I don't think about them. As long as they stay out of trouble and out of our lives, I'll be happy.'

The sheriff raised an eyebrow thick with grey. ‘And if they don't?'

The road ahead was straight and lonely. ‘Let's just see what happens. You know sometimes I wonder what happened to the Wade blood that's supposed to be running in their veins.'

The sheriff spat out a shred of tobacco. ‘That there is your problem, old friend. I would imagine that by now the Wade bloodline has been ruined.'

That night, after they'd eaten a solid meal of steak and beans, Edmund retired to his room in Guthrie. It was sparsely furnished with a narrow bunk, a small wardrobe and matching dresser. The one consolation to decoration was the crocheted doily that sat beneath the water pitcher on the wash-stand. The austereness suited Edmund. It reminded him of his bedroom in Dallas where he'd returned to live with his parents after the death of his first wife. On the end of the bed sat a bundle of mail, reports from his business interests, as well as a selection of newspapers from competing papers. Edmund made a point of checking the papers as regularly as possible. Last year, when the British explorers Mallory and Irvine had attempted an ascent of Mount Everest and failed to return from their historic expedition, Wade Newspapers had relegated the story to the second page. That mistake led to the firing of the editor and ever since Edmund made sure he stayed abreast with events.

As Edmund shuffled through the mail he noticed an envelope marked with
By Sea
. It was addressed in the familiar scrawly hand of Wes. The man would never be known for his penmanship. Having only just received an update from Condamine Station last week, Edmund was surprised to be hearing from him again so soon. He could only imagine that Hugh Hocking had either finally been caught stealing livestock or Wes had elected to contact the authorities and report Hocking for misappropriation of funds. Tearing the seal of the envelope, a selection of photographs fell onto the bed. Wes was no picture-taker but he'd managed to take a few shots of the property. Wide open grasslands, a tree-edged horizon and mobs of sheep were his main subject matter. There was even a close-up of a stud ram with thick curling horns and a drape of folded wool down the animal's chest that looked like an apron. Edmund began to read.

‘Damn it.' After re-reading the letter, Edmund folded it and replaced it in the envelope. He walked out into the corridor and knocked on his son's door. ‘Are you awake, Tobias?'

There was a squeak of bed springs and then Tobias appeared.

‘Come into my room for a minute.' Edmund explained the contents of Wes's letter once they were seated, Edmund on the narrow bed, Tobias perched against the washstand.