This Golden Land (48 page)

     And so it was a smaller band that made its way to the Australia Hotel, with visions of clean beds, hot baths, and meals served on a table.

     They saw at once that something was wrong. As they drew near, with Hannah riding next to Jamie in the wagon while he handled the reins, she
saw no carriages or horses tethered to the hitching post. The whole property was strangely quiet—no stable boys, no goats bleating, no chickens scratching in the dust. The buildings had a neglected air about them, and as Hannah and Jamie climbed the wooden steps to the front door, they sensed that the establishment had been deserted for some time.

     "What happened?" Hannah murmured in alarm as she tried the door to find it locked. She peered through the grimy windows and saw Liza's furniture still in place, even with some newspapers yellowing on an entry table. Behind the front desk, one of Liza's humorous signs—"If you want breakfast in bed, sleep in the kitchen"—dangled on a nail.

     Returning to the dusty road where, it seemed a lifetime ago, she had kissed Neal good-bye, Hannah received another shock. The few establishments that had sprung up around the hotel—Gibney's Feed & Supplies, Edna Basset's dry goods store, and the blacksmith—were likewise boarded up and deserted.

     Hannah tried not to panic. Surely there was a reasonable explanation. But as she climbed back into the wagon next to Jamie, she felt a terrible fear in the pit of her stomach—some sort of illness must have come through here, taking the lives of people she had known.

     "Liza," she said before her throat tightened. Had Alice been a victim, too? Mary McKeeghan at Seven Oaks?

     Dear God, Neal—

     They rode in silence after that, and as they neared the outskirts of Adelaide, with traffic becoming thicker and homesteads closer together, they passed Lulu Forchette's house. Hannah was surprised to see children playing in the yard, clothes flapping on a line, a young woman sweeping the porch steps. Hannah saw the vegetable garden, the horses in the stable. It was clear that a family had moved in. But the rose garden was gone, and that made her a little sad. But she was also relieved to see that whatever had happened back at the Australia Hotel, had not come this far.

     At her side, Jamie was thinking the same thing. He also wondered where that poor dingo had gone to, losing his hunting territory.

     Adelaide seemed strangely quiet and Hannah wondered if they had miscalculated and today was Sunday. But saloons were open, so it was not
the Sabbath. And yet, traffic seemed lighter, with fewer pedestrians in the streets. And then she noticed the vacancy signs in the hotels.

     Had the contagion that had taken Liza and the others made it to the town?

     Hannah decided that as soon as they were done at the jeweler's, she would go straight to the post office to see if Neal had left her a message. She prayed he had not yet returned to Adelaide.

     Jamie drew the wagon up in front of Grootenboer's Jewelers on Flinders Street. While he tethered the horses to the hitching post, the others dismounted, wiping their sweating brows and saying they wanted their money as soon as possible because they were going in search of a bath, a big dinner and some female companionship. And Hannah scanned the brick wall next to Grootenboer's, plastered with newspapers. She anxiously searched for headlines about the Oliphant expedition arriving in Perth, to see if they had arrived in the six months Neal had estimated, after which it was but a two-week voyage back by sea. But there was nothing.

     And then she saw something that made her freeze. A wanted poster with a face on it!

     And it was unmistakably Jamie O'Brien. The new engraving process that had begun with the
London Illustrated News
had finally made its way to these far-flung colonies and the police were using it as a crime-fighting weapon.

     "Jamie," she called quietly, and when he turned, she beckoned him to the wall.

     "What is it—" he began, but when his eye caught on the poster, a dark look came over his face. Someone had been able to describe him well enough to an artist that the engraving was a remarkable likeness. But more alarming than that was a new offense that had been added to his crimes: horse theft.

     "So the bloke at the race course reported the swindle after all," Jamie said. He looked at Hannah. "I don't know if I've enough money to buy myself out of this one. Horse stealing is a hanging offense."

     Hannah knew the rest. That there would be no more safely walking the streets for Jamie, going into any place he felt like, no more confidence games, no more being at liberty to live his life outside the law.

     Telling Maxberry to stay outside with the others, Jamie entered the jeweler's shop with a handkerchief held to his mouth to partially hide his face. Hannah went in with him.

     A chubby, white-haired gentleman sat on a tall stool behind the counter. As soon as the two customers walked in, he stood and said, "Welcome, welcome, how can I be of service?" in a thick Dutch accent.

     Men in dirty and ragged clothes, with beards and sunburns, were a common sight in Adelaide, as gold-hunters, explorers, cattle- and sheep-drovers frequently plodded into town in search of a bath, a clean bed and a fresh beginning. One could never tell by a man's looks how much wealth he had, and so Mr. Grootenboer, like other Adelaide merchants, treated Jamie and Hannah with as much respect as if they had arrived by elegant carriage.

     Keeping the handkerchief to his mouth, as if to cough the last of Outback dust from his lungs, Jamie said, "We found these," and dropped a few rocks on the counter top. It had been decided ahead of time that they would sell the opals all around town, not just at one place.

     Mr. Grootenboer picked up one of the sandstone rocks that had a bit of shiny blue on one side. "Opals! This doesn't look volcanic," the Dutchman said with interest. "What was the topography where you found these?"

     Jamie described the area without being specific, and the man's bushy brows shot up. "Opal in sandstone? I didn't know it was possible. Let me take a look."

     Mr. Grootenboer wore a long chain around his neck, at the end of which hung a jeweler's loupe—a monocle with an extra-thick lens for inspecting gemstones. Holding the lens before his right eye, he brought each stone up for close examination, making sounds in his throat while Jamie and Hannah waited.

     Finally, Mr. Grootenboer said, "These stones are very rough and need to be cut. I have not the expertise in this skill, you understand. I would have to send the stones to a lapidary in Sydney. Opal is a soft gemstone, relatively speaking, and so care must be taken in grinding off the outer sandstone. And then there is the polishing and shaping . . ." He sighed and set the last stone down. "It would be at great cost to me and I do not know what profit I can make. Nonetheless, I can takes these off your hands for, say, five shillings."

     "How about this one?" Jamie said, and he handed Mr. Grootenboer a much larger chunk of sandstone with a heart that shone black at first, but then bright red, yellow and orange when turned to the light.

     While they waited for Mr. Grootenboer to carry out his inspection, Hannah looked around the small shop and saw the Help Wanted sign in his window: "Man Only." She had seen other Help Wanted signs during their ride into town, all of them specifying men only. Had there been some sort of illness that afflicted only men? Then where were Liza Guinness and her daughters?

     The moment stretched as Mr. Grootenboer studied the larger stone through his glass, until he suddenly gasped astonishment. Letting the loupe drop, he cleared his throat, pursed his lips and appeared to be controlling his excitement. "I can pay you a good price for this, sir," he said. And then he leaned forward and murmured, "I can pay you an even
better
price if you tell me where you found it."

     "Mr. Grootenboer," Hannah said with a look of curiosity on her face. She had noticed an extraordinary amount of gold watches for sale in the shop. They weren't new, some even appeared to be quite old. When she asked about them, Mr. Grootenboer blinked at him owlishly and said, "Haven't you
heard?"

     "Heard what?"

     "Gold has been discovered in California."

     Hannah and Jamie exchanged a puzzled look. "Where is California?" Jamie asked.

     "It is a territory in America. Gold was found there a few months ago—nuggets the size of a man's fist, just lying on the ground. Many men have left Adelaide to go to California to get rich. They sell me their possessions for the price of passage."

     Outside in the hot sun, Jamie shared the money from Mr. Grootenboer with the others with the promise that he would continue to sell the opals and dole out the profits. Of course, now he would have to work with more care, with his likeness plastered all over town.

     "Hannah, I know of a place where me and the boys can lay low, but what about you? Where will you be? How can I find you?"

     Hannah had expected to be staying at the Australia Hotel. Now she would have to find lodgings. But first it was a trip to the post office. When she and Neal had parted back in April, they had devised a plan to connect with each other when he returned. The central post office, where they could leave letters "in general care." "I am going to see if my friend Alice is back in town. She would have been at the Australia Hotel, but she might be somewhere else now. I can find out at the Elysium Music Hall. And for now, until I find somewhere to stay, that would be the best place to send me a message."

     They looked at each other on the hot, dusty sidewalk as people stepped around them. The air was filled with the drone of flies and the odor of horse droppings, but Hannah and Jamie were aware of nothing except each other. There was so much each wanted to say, but now was not the time. And . . . something had changed. Hannah didn't know what exactly. The new bounty poster had come as a shock. The police threat was now very serious.

     And also, now that they were back in the city, things felt different. Hannah had ties here, another life, and the prospect of Neal in her near future. She was momentarily caught off balance. Where did Jamie O'Brien fit in?

     "We have to go," he said quietly, watching her from beneath the broad rim of his dusty bush hat. Jamie had also sensed a change. "I'll send you word when all the opals are converted into cash."

     She watched him go, riding the horse he had purchased with a forged deed while Blackie White took the wagon. As they disappeared down the busy street, Hannah was reminded of the night a man materialized out of the darkness to save her from a savage dog. She was filled with that same sense now, that Jamie O'Brien had sprung from Australia's red earth to walk awhile in her life, like a mythic being, drawn from gum trees and cockatoos and the Rainbow Serpent, only to leave her again and return to the land that sired him.

T
HERE WAS NO LETTER WAITING FOR HER AT THE POST OFFICE
, so she surmised that Neal was still in Perth, for surely they had made it by now. But just in case, she would write to him in care of the authorities in Perth who were sure to give it to him when the expedition arrived with great fanfare and celebration. She didn't want Neal going to the Australia Hotel and receive the same shock she did.

     The front doors of the Elysium Music Hall stood open to the heat of the day, music pouring out onto the sidewalk. As Hannah stepped into the relative coolness, a large burly man with arms like hams and wearing a striped waistcoat blocked her way. "We're closed until this evening. No one's allowed during rehearsal."

     "Is Miss Alice Star here?" Hannah asked, trying to peer around him into the theater where acrobats were tumbling on the stage.

     "Who wants to know?" he said.

     "I'm a friend."

     "You and half of Adelaide," he said.

     "Please tell her Hannah Conroy has come to visit."

     A moment later, she heard her name called out in a familiar voice. "Hannah!"

     Alice burst into the theater lobby to take her startled friend into a tight embrace. "We were so worried! We had no idea where you went! Liza said you were with Mr. Scott. Did you join the expedition? Have you been to Perth?"

     Alice drew back, her eyes the color of cornflowers wide with amazement. "Hannah, your tanned! You've been in the sun! Tell me what—"

     Hannah laughed. "Alice, let me catch my breath." She was amazed at the change in her friend. Gone was the shy girl who had worked for Lulu Forchette. The touring and singing on so many stages had brought out Alice's natural sparkle and charisma. She exuded self-confidence. She was also physically beautiful. The scars were so well hidden, the eyebrow painted on so perfectly, and her hair arranged so artfully that one would never suspect the deformity underneath.

     "Alice, you act like a woman in love."

     "I am in love—with the theater, with audiences, with singing." In a more somber tone Alice said, "But I am not in love with a man and I doubt I ever will be. But I do have admirers now, and I am satisfied with that."