The Horse Thief (21 page)

‘Goodfellow. Jefferson's sire. I told you—Jim. Cut the Cobb and the sir bit.'

‘Yes sir, Jim.' Fred walked around the back of the two horses, an appraising grin on his face. ‘That's what I call a horse. And he throws true. No doubt he's Jefferson's sire. The missus was right.'

Jim grunted. Now he'd arrived the wisdom of his idea rankled. Supposing Mrs Kilhampton became upset when she saw Goodfellow. Maybe the truth was more than she could bear. She might collapse into a decline. Then India would never forgive him. His stomach churned and he pulled the horses up sharp before he rounded the corner of the barn.

‘Let's put them in the barn, Fred, not the stables. I don't want them near the other animals yet. They'll need a good feed. It's been a long trip for the old boy.'

‘Doesn't look as though he's suffered much to me.' Fred opened the wide double doors.

The light streamed in through the gabled windows illuminating the timber interior.

Jim glanced around and inhaled. ‘The barn's looking good, Fred. Been keeping on top of things?' He handed Goodfellow's reins to the boy.

‘Thought you might promise me another ride.' He threw a wink.

Cheeky bugger.
‘We'll see. There might be a few people lining up before you.'

‘I'll give them both a rub down. Peggy's in the kitchen. Better go tell her you're here otherwise you'll miss out on your tucker.'

Jim's feet dragged as he made his way across the courtyard. Without India the place had lost its sparkle, or perhaps his mood had something to do with it. The problem was when and how to tell Mrs Kilhampton that Goodfellow was back. With Fred and Peggy's big mouths it wouldn't stay a secret for long. He pushed the door to the kitchen wide, unsure of the reception he'd receive.

When Peggy turned around to see who dared cross into her territory her face broke into a welcoming smile. ‘You're back. About time too. Mrs Kilhampton's asking after you.'

Jim pulled off his hat and scratched at the road dirt on his face. ‘I thought I'd get a mouthful when I got back here.'

‘You might have done except she's been busy telling us what a wonderful man you are. Want a cuppa?' She turned the teapot three times and poured him a cup. ‘And how you're going to lay all the ghosts to rest.'

‘And which ghosts would those be?' Jim asked as he stirred sugar into his tea.

‘Mrs Kilhampton's ghosts. The ghosts of the past. Helligen's ghosts. They're one and the same.' She shrugged her ample shoulders and pulled a large baking tray from the oven. The meat hissed and sizzled and the smell of roasted beef filled the kitchen making Jim's mouth water. ‘Wait until after dinner. Go and see her then. Have you brought the horse back?'

‘What horse?'

‘Goodfellow, of course. When you didn't turn up yesterday Mrs K told Anya that's where you'd be.'

Jim nodded. ‘Can't keep much a secret around here, can I?' A weight lifted from his shoulders. It was good to be himself again and not some trumped-up imaginary character. There would be no more secrets. ‘I'll go and get washed up.'

‘Eat in here. We need the company.'

Jim threw her a grin. ‘I'd like that. Rattling around in that cottage on my own was beginning to make me feel like the Ghost of Christmas Past.'

‘Christmas isn't far off. Got a few bits and pieces to sort out before then. Haven't even started my Christmas cake yet. Off you go. Won't be long.'

Jim ran his fingers over the date engraved on the lintel, just for luck, and pushed open the door to the cottage. Home. The thought caught him by surprise. This would always be the home of his heart, whether or not he could stay. The sooner India returned the sooner he could lay all his cards on the table.

The pump performed its usual antics and he kicked it until it spluttered and delivered. With the road washed off and a clean shirt he headed back to the kitchen relishing the prospect of Peggy's beef. On the way he stuck his head around the corner of the barn and checked Goodfellow and Jefferson. Side by side in the two stalls like doppelgangers they turned to greet him, satisfied gleams flickering in their eyes.

‘Stay there until tomorrow, boys, and then you can have a romp in the paddock.'

He latched the heavy doors on the barn and as he turned a bilious pink vision strutted across the grass. With a cry it lifted its skirts and flew across the yard.

‘Jim! You're back. I'm so pleased to see you.'

He braced himself against Violet's effusive welcome. Would he be subjected to Violet the Flirt, or Violet the Tantrum? Neither character presented itself as she slipped her hand through his arm. ‘Dinner's ready. Peggy said to come and get you.'

Somewhat taken aback by her cheerful reception Jim tucked her arm into his. ‘And what's been happening while I've been away?'

‘Not a lot, not a little. India's in Sydney seeing Papa. Oh! You know that, don't you?' She shot a glance at him from under her lashes and gave a little smirk. ‘Mama has taken on a new lease of life. She's been telling us stories about you as a little boy.'

A snake the size of a diamond python uncurled in his belly as he waited to hear what she had to say.

‘All about how you fell from the roof and split your head open and had to have it sewn back on.'

His spare hand ran through his hair, fingering the scar behind his ear. ‘So long as it's not all bad.'

‘She said she expected you to bring Goodfellow back and that's why you've taken so long.' Violet stopped and made to turn. ‘She's so excited. Have you brought him home?'

How had Mrs Kilhampton known he'd gone to fetch Goodfellow? At the risk of being accused fanciful, it was almost as though she had some communication with the animal. As if she'd known all along he would return. No wonder she'd been so determined to find him.

‘He's in the barn with Jefferson.'

‘Can we go and see him?' She pulled him around in a circle.

‘Not right now. They've both had a long day. I don't want to disturb them.'

‘You do have him, don't you?'

‘I've got him.'

‘Thank goodness for that. Short of going and digging up his grave—' she gave a delicate shudder, ‘—I wasn't sure whether to believe Mama or not. Anya swore it was true and so did Peggy.'

‘How would they know?' he asked, curiosity coiling inside him.

‘Just because that's what Mama said. She's been so completely different since you and India left. It's as though she's thrown off the past. She's quite animated. She's even wearing a different dress. I can't remember the last time I saw her in anything but that billowing nightgown affair. She's, well, she's almost normal.'

The python in his belly settled as they made their way across the courtyard. At Mrs Kilhampton's bedroom window the curtains blew in the evening breeze although there was no sign of the usual hovering silhouette.

‘Fred and Jilly are joining us. Anya has taken Mama's tray up and told her you're back. She wants to talk to you after dinner.' Violet dropped his arm and waited for him to push open the kitchen door. He covered a smile as he held the door back and she swept into the kitchen. He rather liked Violet this evening. She still had all her Sydney airs and graces, but there was a little more humanity about her.

‘There you are,' Peggy said, flicking her cloth as she put the last of the heated plates onto the table. ‘Just in time. It's ready.'

Once he sat at the familiar scrubbed pine table Jim was truly home. He studied the diverse group. He wasn't the only person who was affected by that night so very long ago. The events had spread their tendrils far and wide. If his mother hadn't left, Peggy wouldn't be here. Violet might well have grown up and become a different person and India—what he wouldn't give to have her here beside him now! He could sense her presence in every stone and every blade of grass on Helligen. She belonged here as much as the swans on the lagoon or the goanna that stalked the river track. Her eyes reflected the clouds before rain and her hair the dappled sun as it danced on the gum leaves. How he missed her.

‘With a sigh like that you sound as though you have the weight of the world on your shoulders,' Peggy said. She stabbed a large piece of roast beef with a serving fork. ‘Is the food not to your liking?'

‘No, it's perfect, as always. I was wondering when India would return.' He lifted a piece of Yorkshire pudding to his mouth. It smelt of home, comfort and tradition, yet it didn't fill the void in his heart.

‘Who knows?' Violet said, shrugging her shoulders. ‘It depends on what Papa says and what she decides to do about Cecil Bryce. She should marry him. It would make life so much easier.'

Peggy slammed down the carving knife and fork. ‘Don't you start that again, miss. You know perfectly well she isn't the slightest bit interested in that fish-faced old fool. The only person who's interested in him is you—and that's only because of his money. Why don't you marry him?'

Violet smirked. ‘He doesn't even know I exist and besides, he's far too old for me.'

‘He's far too old for India, too.' Peggy curled her lip and then flashed Jim a meaningful look. ‘What she needs is a man with plenty of energy who shares the same interests and passions as she does.'

‘A man of her own class. One Papa approves of.' Violet's triumphant grin was a stark reminder of everything he was up against. How he wished he'd prevented India from getting on the steamer at Morpeth.

‘There's nothing anyone can do until India gets back and that all depends on where Mr Kilhampton is. He could be in Timbuktu for all we know.' With a deliberate scrape Peggy pushed back her chair. ‘And that's that. Clear the plates, Jilly. Who's for apple pie?'

With his stomach comfortably full Jim rocked back in the chair and stretched out his legs. Peggy was right. Until India returned there was nothing he could do. He'd promised he would stay, and besides, there was a chance Kilhampton would return with her. There were a few things he'd like to say to him. He owed an explanation to India, too. There was no chance Kilhampton would sign over Goodfellow, but there was an outside possibility he might be talked into signing stud papers for Jefferson.

‘Thanks for the meal, Peggy.' Jim stood up. ‘I want to go and check on the horses.' He tousled Fred's hair. ‘You can have my extra helping of apple pie.'

‘Cor, thanks, sir.'

‘Jim.'

‘Sir Jim,' Fred said with a cheeky grin.

Jim rewarded him with a cuff around the head.

There was no moon and Jim picked up the lantern outside the kitchen door and lit it. Inside the barn it would be pitch black and he wanted to give both of the horses a good look-over, especially Goodfellow. It had been a long day for the old boy and he hoped he wouldn't find any injuries.

The huge double doors creaked as he swung them open and stepped inside. An air of peace and calm pervaded the entire space. The elegant detailed roof trusses soared above him, creating a cathedral-like splendour. When he'd left Helligen as a boy the building was unfinished. Just a frame and a roof used for hay storage. In the intervening years it had been completed, a right and fitting place for two such magnificent animals. He lifted the lamp, illuminating the centre aisle. The stall gates threw a slatted pattern across the hard-packed dirt floor. Jefferson whickered and Jim lowered the lamp and made for the back of the barn. As he approached the stalls the sound of hushed voices wafted into the space. Goodfellow and Jefferson lifted their heads in unison and acknowledged his arrival.

He took a guess. ‘Good evening, Mrs Kilhampton.'

Two heads appeared over the stall gate.

‘And Anya.'

‘Thank you for bringing him home to us,' Mrs Kilhampton said. ‘I've known all along one day he'd return to us. I felt it here.' She lifted her pale hand to her chest. ‘No-one would believe me.' Having given Goodfellow another pat she slipped out of the stall and offered her hand. ‘Thank you.'