The Great Plains (48 page)

September, 1935 – on the bank of the Condamine River, Southern Queensland

Abelena knelt by Flossy's side. She pushed on the woman's chest, trying to release the water that had surged into her lungs, and slapped her face in the hope of stirring her back to life. She had dragged the woman from the river unconscious after diving underwater twice to tug her to the surface, and she now worked frantically to revive her. Abelena didn't think it would be like this. Will's mother fought like an animal to be with her lost child. She scratched and bit, kicked and thrashed, leaving bloody welts on Abelena's arms and face. Only striking the grieving mother had stopped Flossy but now the woman's skin was white, her lips tinged blue and she had swallowed so much water that death was near.

Abelena knew she should feel remorse for what she had done; that guilt should be coursing through her veins. She may not have agreed with Will's treatment of his mother, but initially he had been an unwilling participant in Abelena's plan to run away and now she had led him to believe that they had a future together. She had tried to do good for Flossy's sake, but the woman's death would leave Will without a mother, and Abelena was all too aware how much the poorer Will's life would be if he lost Flossy. Abelena had repaid Will's efforts to help her with selfishness. A selfishness that sprang from her need to escape from Tobias. A selfish need to save a woman who'd been forgotten, who'd been taken for granted by her family. Abelena had not been able to save her own mother, so she'd tried to save Will's, and this was the result.

As she continued to press down on Flossy's chest, all Abelena could think about was what would happen if the woman died. Images of Jerome bound to a chair convulsing from electrical currents filled her with dread. No-one would listen to her if Flossy died. No-one would care to hear the truth. Why would they?

‘What the hell?'

Wes Kirkland pushed Abelena roughly away. She sprawled in the dirt. ‘You fool!' Abelena screamed. She crawled across the sand, intent on saving Will's mother, but Wes was shoving her out of the way, warning her that if she moved again he would harm her. He levelled the rifle he held at her head. Across the river, sheep were calling through the night.

‘She was drowning, I pulled her from the water!' Abelena yelled. Beside her the baby eagle began to cry.

‘Sure you were,' Wes countered, leaning over the pale woman. ‘Who is she?'

‘Will's mother,' Abelena told him. ‘Please, Wes, let me help her.'

‘It looks like you've done enough helping for one day.' He dragged Flossy across the sand to the base of a tree and propped her against the bark. The movement loosened the liquid lodged within and Flossy coughed and spluttered but did not wake. ‘If she dies, you know what it means, Abelena. Murder is a hanging offence.' He stared at the wounds on Flossy's arms where Abelena had tried to restrain her, at the cut lip and thin line of dried blood. His mouth curled in disgust.

Abelena got to her feet, her clothes were sodden. ‘You'd like that, wouldn't you?' she sneered. ‘You'd like to see me dead.'

Wes was distracted by the sounds of the sheep. They were closer now. As if a mob was being moved along the river. ‘What I'd like is for none of you Wade women to have ever been born. Half-breeds,' he spat in the dirt, ‘you don't mean nothing to no-one and you never will.'

‘Well, it seems you're wrong, because Tobias chose me over you, didn't he?'

‘The best thing the government ever did was to force you Injuns onto reservations, the next best thing was to take that land away from you and give it to honest white folk who were prepared to work for a living. The execution of your brother was icing on the cake.'

Abelena felt as if her chest would burst. She fingered the pouch at her neck and then ran at Wes, scratching at his face, at his arms. Her teeth found the lobe of his ear and she bit down, hard.

Wes screamed and wrapped his hands about her neck. Abelena felt the air begin to leave her body. Her brain grew hazy.

She didn't hear the great eagle swoop from the thickness of trees behind her, did not understand how air was suddenly able to surge down into her lungs as she fell to her knees, coughing and gasping. As she lay in the dirt, her hands resting on her ravaged neck, Abelena turned to see the great eagle attacking Wes. The bird's wings were outstretched, and the razor-sharp talons ripped and tore as the overseer tried without success to fight the bird off. The eagle screeched and flapped and finally Wes fell to the ground, his hands flaying in defence, as the eagle straddled him and in one deft movement pecked out an eye.

The man's screams jolted Abelena and she struggled to her feet. ‘Stop!' she commanded.

To her surprise, the wedge-tail backed away.

Across the river she heard men's voices. Two figures appeared on horseback on the opposite bank. They walked their mounts carefully down the gentle slope and urged their horses through the shallows, veering left and right as they followed a submerged sandbar, the water rising to the girth-straps on their saddles before they emerged from the river only feet away.

Abelena recognised only one of the two riders, the full-bearded man, Evan. She imagined how they must look. She, sitting in the dirt with the wedge-tail eagle and its baby beside her, and Flossy lolling against the tree; alive or dead, she didn't know.

Wes was calling out in pain, his left eye a bloody hole, his ear bleeding profusely. He scrabbled in the dirt for the rifle and then used the gun to lever himself upwards. He was clearly in shock for his body was shaking and he kept turning his head as if trying to see out of his gored eye. Blood was gushing down his cheek and staining his shirt but he steadied himself and focused on the two men. ‘You're meant to be dead!'

Evan, flabbergasted by the scene before him, turned to his companion. ‘Well, Hocking? What do you think of that?'

The man got down from his saddle and limped towards Wes. ‘You left me that way, Wes, but sometimes wanting something doesn't automatically make it happen.' He poked at Wes's rifle with his own and the overseer lost his balance and fell.

Hocking chuckled and turned to Abelena. ‘And you're Philomena's kin? I never met the woman but everyone said she was a beauty. I see you've got her looks.'

‘You're from Oklahoma?' Abelena could barely speak, her throat was so sore.

‘Sure am, but then I came over here and got myself a little business going.'

‘What the hell are you doing with him, Evan?' Wes struggled upright.

‘Repaying a debt owed. Hocking was a mate. You never were.'

‘But you were with me that day,' the overseer pointed out.

‘I was, and you thought I left Hocking to die to save my own neck, but there were other men there that day.'

Wes groaned, his words were twisted with pain. ‘The blacks.'

‘They saved me,' Hocking explained, ‘and moved me to a deserted soldier-settler block, which I ended up buying. Sometime later I had a visitor and Evan and I came to an agreement of sorts.'

Evan turned towards Hocking, their complicity forged by friendship. ‘Since then I've been working for him. Actually I'm about ready to retire.' He gave a wry smile, clearly amused at his comments.

‘But, you were working for me, you watched me shoot him.'

Evan scratched his beard. ‘In hindsight that wasn't real friendly of me, but there was no point the both of us dying. Anyway, this is Australia and Hocking was a mate.'

‘So you and he have been in cahoots for ten years?'

The eagle stretched out its wings as if readying for flight. They could hear a horse whinny. There was a creak of leather, the snap of twigs and Tobias rode in from the shadows. He lifted his rifle and cocked it. ‘Interesting conversation,' he said calmly. ‘What the hell happened to you, Wes?'

‘Don't ask,' he grimaced in pain. ‘How much did you hear?'

Tobias's forehead creased as he surveyed the group. ‘Everything,' he told Wes. ‘Are you all right, Abelena?'

She nodded and moved to Flossy's side. The woman was awake, shaky but alive.

‘I feel sick.' Flossy vomited as the men began arguing.

‘Do you think you can walk?' Abelena helped the older woman to her feet, leaning her against the tree so that she could return to the remains of the fire, where her few belongings lay. She slipped the knife through her belt and gathered the pillowcase with the herbs and the Apache hide, then she knotted the bag and tied it to the leather about her waist.

On the other side of the river, sheep were spilling down the bank, some stopped to drink, their dipping heads fanning the water in small circles, the majority of the animals raced onwards. Behind them a stockman cracked a whip.

Tobias turned to Hocking. ‘My father expected more of you.'

‘Did he? First Aloysius sends my father broke and he kills himself from the strain, then your father takes all the Wade business away from me. Edmund got what he deserved. As for you, Wes, maybe now you'll understand that a jumped-up stable boy doesn't have the right to look down his nose at the likes of me. Doesn't have the right to think he's better than me. And shouldn't ever think that a man can get away with murder.' Hocking lifted his rifle and levelled the barrel at Wes's leg. ‘I owe you a limp.'

Abelena could feel the anger in the air. It fizzed and popped as if it had been boxed up and stored in darkness for many years. The grievances the men yelled about were ages old, a decade old, a generation old. Each man called the other a liar, each man held a rifle. She wondered how it was possible that three Americans, Okies no less, could be fighting on the other side of the world. As the four men continued to quarrel, Abelena seized the opportunity to escape. She draped Flossy's arm across her shoulders and together they walked away from the river and into the timber. She turned once when a gunshot echoed. Wes Kirkland let out a howl and crumpled to the ground. The man called Hocking lowered his rifle.

‘I don't know if there are any blacks around to help you, Wes.' Hocking's voice echoed along the river. He sounded faintly amused.

There was a whoosh of air overhead and the wedge-tail eagle, the baby between its talons, flew off into the night.

‘Are we going home?' Flossy's breath was laboured.

‘Soon,' Abelena replied.

They trudged through the timber as the voices on the riverbank continued their condemnatory yells. Gradually the quarrelling grew fainter but Abelena knew that it would not be long before Tobias came after her. Had she been alone she could easily have avoided him. She knew this area well, but Will's mother was weak. With every step she leant a little more on Abelena's shoulders and although they made reasonable progress, soon they would have to rest.

September, 1935 – on the bank of the Condamine River, Southern Queensland

Tobias backed up slowly until he stood next to Wes. ‘You know I can't walk away from this,' he told the two men opposite, ‘no matter what Wes has done. I've caught you both red-handed and you've admitted to your crime.'

Evan held his rifle low and tight against his ribs. ‘What are you going to do, Mr Wade, try and shoot us both?' His finger was firm on the trigger. ‘Your mate there is looking fairly crook and I don't know how good an aim you are but Hocking and I are crack shots.'

Wes was sitting upright, but he was a sorry sight. He'd ripped the sleeve from his shirt and tried his best to bandage the leg wound, but the man had so much blood on him that it was difficult to decipher where one injury began and the other ended.

‘Maybe he's thinking of arresting us,' Hocking contemplated. ‘If that's the case you should have stayed hidden over yonder behind those trees. Wes knows the rule. We might not be in Oklahoma but none of us are the gaoling kind.'

‘Is that what you want, Hocking?' Tobias queried. ‘A final shoot-out?'

‘Not to your liking, Mr Wade? No doubt you'd prefer to sit down with a rum and talk things through.'

‘There's not much to talk about,' Tobias said plainly, ‘but I admit that I just don't understand your hatred, Hocking.'

‘Of course you don't,' Hocking replied. ‘Them that have money and think that they're better than others can't imagine what it means to lose everything.'

‘As for me,' Evan piped up, ‘I just like coin.'

‘Shoot the bastards, the both of them, the lousy rustlers,' Wes called out.

Tobias quietened him with his hand.

‘Must be confusing,' Hocking drawled, ‘knowing what the right thing is but figuring you'll have to do wrong anyway.' He lifted his rifle and pulled the trigger.

Wes shot both men in the chest before Tobias had let off the first round. They dropped to the ground, dead.

‘Jesus!' Tobias kicked the lifeless bodies. ‘I knew you were good … and you've only got one eye!'

‘Well, I had a couple of real good teachers and, if the truth be told,' Wes croaked, ‘I was aiming for their heads.'

Tobias dragged each man to the river's edge and dumped them in the water. The current eddied and pushed at their bodies and slowly the two men began to drift away.

‘Fish fodder, that's all those two were ever good for,' Wes declared.

Tobias turned towards the trees that edged the river.

‘You're going after her?' Wes asked.

‘I better get you back home first.'

‘I'm okay.' Wes probed the leg wound. ‘It went straight through. Anyway, we both know that if you don't hightail it Abelena will have disappeared. It takes someone like me to track a girl like that and I won't be chasing any Injuns for a day or so.'

Tobias knelt beside him. ‘I don't want to leave you, old friend.'

Wes grimaced as a wave of pain speared down his leg. ‘Sure you do, Tobias. Sure you do.'

Tobias fetched Wes's horse and, with difficulty, heaved the older man onto the saddle.

‘I'll be fine,' Wes stated through gritted teeth.

‘Just head toward the homestead. I'll come back for you,' Tobias promised. ‘As soon as I've found her, I'll come back.' He mounted his own horse, twitched the reins. Marigold snorted disinterestedly. ‘You saved my life. If you hadn't have been here –'

‘Forget it.'

‘You deserve Condamine Station, Wes. You're the son my father never had.' He rode into the trees.

Wes sat there for some minutes, listening to the night sounds of the bush, his good eye glassy with pride, then he fell from his horse.

Marcus and Will lifted the second ewe and, slinging the animal across Margery's rump, tied the sheep down firmly. They'd only managed to find two killers when they'd heard the unmistakable bleating of a mob of sheep. Perch had taken off in the direction of the noise and they'd been considering following him and nabbing another woolly but then a number of rifle shots had echoed down the river and Marcus thought it safer to head home. Father and son saddled up and Will whistled softly to his dog.

‘Don't worry about the mutt,' his father said sternly, ‘he'll follow. Best we get home. Skin and gut these two then we can head into the village.'

‘What about those rifle shots?' Will asked nervously.

‘They could have come from any direction.' Marcus sniffed the air. ‘On a night like this when there's no wind and scant moonlight, sound can travel for miles. You know that.'

‘We shouldn't have left Abelena and Mum alone.'

‘I never took you for a nervous Nellie. You've been hanging around with too many wild-eyed boundary riders and black stockmen. Jump at the smallest thing, their kind do.' Marcus led them through the trees. ‘We'll head down towards the river, it will be easier going.'

Across the water came the faint sound of a stockwhip. ‘I reckon someone's lifting a mob of sheep,' Will decided.

‘Well, if they are, it's best we get a move on.'

Once they were clear of the trees and the fallen timber, they walked their horses down the riverbank and turned left at the water's edge. Will tailed his father. Margery kept at a fast trot.

‘Beaut night to be out,' Marcus called softly back to his son. ‘Never have been one to be indoors early in the evening. Of course the womenfolk hate it; Abelena will be the same. Your mother always liked to have everyone tucked up for the night like fowls in a coop. Now that Abelena's with us I'll be thinking she'll get your mother up and out of that blasted room. A woman's touch, that's what Floss needs. Someone to get her mind off herself and of course it will be good to have a decent cook around. Let me tell you, son, I'm no hand in the kitchen. I can't even manage Johnny cakes.'

‘Dad, we can't stay. Abelena's run away from Mr Wade.'

‘Rubbish. We'll go and see the copper and you can tell Constable Maine the story. He's not a bad cove. He'll lend you an ear.'

‘But she's younger than me and Mr Wade –'

‘Made his money out of papers and slaves and bossing people around? Yeah, I've heard the stories but this is Australia, Will. We have laws, people have rights. They'll be some way we can get around things so that Abelena can stay with us.'

‘You'd have to stop stealing, Dad.'

‘Let's cross one bridge at a time. God's trousers, what's this?' Marcus saw the body in the gloom and rode towards it. ‘Best you stay back, son,' he warned. He jumped from his horse and unholstered his rifle. ‘Shush, Margery, there's a good girl.' He cocked the gun, dropped to one knee and surveyed the land and water encircling them.

‘We're not far from home, Dad.'

Marcus waved his son to silence. After he was satisfied that they were alone apart from the figure in the dirt, he walked to the water. ‘Blood leading to the river and drag marks. I don't like it. Get over here.'

Will obeyed, trotting his horse quietly onwards and then once dismounted tied the reins to Margery. ‘He looks like he's been attacked by an animal or something, Dad.'

Marcus gently turned the man's head. Where an eye should have been only a bloody socket remained. ‘It's the bloke from Condamine Station. It's Wes Kirkland.'

‘It can't be! Out here?'

‘Look at that eye.' Marcus examined the body. ‘By the looks of it he's been shot too.' He lifted the edge of the ragged bandage on the man's leg. ‘It's bad.'

‘I bet he was looking for Abelena. It's not the first time he's chased her down.'

‘Are you telling me that slip of thing shot him?'

Will hesitated. ‘No. At least she didn't have a rifle.'

‘Well, someone did.'

‘So where are they now, Dad?'

‘Buggered if I know.'

‘Is he alive?'

Marcus held a palm against the injured man's mouth. ‘Yep.'

‘Well, we can't leave him here.'

Marcus looked from the man to the sheep. ‘Damn and blast. All right, we'll strap him to Margery. I'll take him home and tend to his wounds, you get your sheep gutted and delivered.'

‘Heck, I want to stay with you!'

‘And what do you think your mother's going to eat tomorrow? Air? No. One sheep is better than none.' Marcus cut his ewe from Margery's back and dragged the animal into the scrub, then with Will's help they lifted Wes Kirkland and slung him across the saddle. ‘Once I've cleaned him up I'll ride into the village and find the doctor.'

‘You better hide that block and tackle when you get home, Dad.'

The man whimpered.

‘He's awake,' Marcus announced. ‘What happened? Who did this to you?'

‘Tobias, help Tobias,' Wes moaned.

Marcus gave the man a sip of water. ‘Why, is he hurt too?'

‘No, he's gone looking for Abelena.'

Marcus shook his head. ‘But how can that be? We left the girl with Floss.'

Will looked at his father.

‘Don't, son, don't do it. There will be time enough tomorrow to track her down. Hell, we'll ride right up to that fancy homestead if you want to. But first I have to get Kirkland home and check on your mother and you have to deliver that sheep.'

‘I have to find her, Dad.'

‘Will, listen to me.'

‘If it was Mum and you knew she was with someone who treated her badly, you wouldn't hesitate.' Will mounted his horse. ‘I have to do this. I'll dump my sheep in the timber.'

‘Go then,' his father replied half-heartedly. Marcus waited until Will had left and then he walked into the scrub and dragged the hidden ewe across to Margery. ‘It's going to be a long night, girl.' Hefting the sheep onto the horse's back, he tied the animal down and began to lead his ride home. ‘Please God,' Marcus whispered, ‘don't let Kirkland wake up and look into the eyes of his dead sheep. That wouldn't be good.'