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Authors: Tricia Stringer

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BOOK: Heart of the Country
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Thomas stopped hammering the post he'd been driving into the ground and followed the direction of Jacob's gaze. From this vantage point up on the ridge, they could see the new fence stretching away below them, disappearing into the valleys and reappearing on the next hilltop.

“This is the last of the Smith's Ridge boundary,” he said with a sigh of satisfaction. The old brush fence they'd been patching since the fire two years earlier was no more.

“Rix will find it difficult to breach.”

“In that case it should pay for itself very quickly.”

Thomas had invested a lot of money in this fence. If it stopped Smith's Ridge stock grazing his land and Rix pilfering his sheep it would be worth every penny.

“You know it's nearly twelve years since you and I first came to look at this country with Gulda?”

Thomas lifted his hat, rubbed his hair and pushed the hat back in place. What had happened to those two bright-eyed young men who'd wanted to claim this land as their own?

“It seems only yesterday and yet such a long time ago,” he said.

“You're sure doing well, Thomas. Plenty of stock, a new stone house being built and all these wire fences.”

“Lizzie has earned a decent home after all these years. She works as hard as we do.” Thomas gestured, taking in the land below them. “And as for fences, we've only done one boundary. We'll begin the southern section next.”

“You never stop working.”

“There's always work to be done.” Thomas lifted his hammer again. “Like this fence.”

“You know people think you're crazy, don't you?” Jacob grinned.

“I don't care what they think. Sheep find their way to water and feed. If they're bound by fences there'll be less shepherding work for us.”

“Then you won't need me any longer.”

Thomas paused his hammering and studied the man who, along with Zac, was not only family but his close friend. “There will always be work for you here, Jacob,” he said.

Jacob leaned against a post and looked to the west. “Things could have been so different,” he murmured.

“You know you're welcome to stay as long as you want.” Thomas gripped his brother-in-law's shoulder.

“I'll see this job out.” He turned back to Thomas. “Then I'll see what Lady Luck has in store for me next.”

Thomas was pleased to see the grin back on his face. Like Lizzie, Jacob could always manage to see the silver lining in a bad situation. He'd done all sorts since the loss of Smith's Ridge, from mine work to carting loads with bullock teams, but he'd never stayed at any one job for long. Thomas was grateful he had remained on at Wildu Creek this time as long as he had.

“I hear Wiltshire is back at the Ridge.”

Thomas swung the hammer hard. “What that man does is of no concern to me.”

Jacob flicked a look at Thomas then set to his own work.

Thomas pounded the post with his hammer. In this vast country, of all the people to have as a neighbour, he had the one man who tested his patience beyond endurance. No matter what the bible said about turning the other cheek, Thomas found each time he did, Wiltshire was there, slapping him again.

Thomas knew he had difficulty seeing reason when Wiltshire was mentioned. Perhaps living out here all these years had made him a little crazy: the hard work, the isolation, the heat, the loss of two babies. He paused the relentless pounding. Even though Ellen was now well past two years, Thomas still watched over her and, according to Lizzie, indulged her far too much. He couldn't help himself. If he lost another little girl he truly thought he would take leave of his senses.

“Father!”

Thomas fought to keep the panic from rising. Why would Lizzie allow Joseph to come all this way alone? He looked up and was relieved to see there were two horses approaching, the pony carrying Joseph and the larger horse with an older man, a stranger. Even though Joseph had turned eight and rode well, he wasn't allowed to head out alone.

“Who's that?” Jacob asked.

“I don't know.”

Thomas ignored the stranger. He was intent on his son, who was smiling broadly. At least it couldn't be bad news.

“Father,” Joseph said as he got closer. “I've brought Mr Browne to visit you.”

Thomas shifted his gaze to the solidly built man now dismounting his horse. The brown jacket and the leather leggings were familiar. The man wearing them had become more portly and the hair visible under his broad hat had greyed but the quickness of his eyes and the smile on his face was the same.

Thomas strode forward, his hand outstretched. “AJ! What are you doing all the way out here?”

His old employer shook his hand firmly and gripped his shoulder. “I've grown a little soft, sitting around in town. I came to spend some time with Wick at Penakie and then I felt the urge to visit you. I wanted to see for myself this country of yours and what my investment has produced.”

“It's good to see you,” Thomas said. He'd paid back his original debt to AJ, and they corresponded, but he hadn't seen him in a long time.

AJ shook Jacob's hand, then gave the wire fence a look. “This is an interesting idea,” he said. “Wick and I have spoken about fences at Penakie.”

“It won't stop the wild dogs.” Thomas tested the strain on the top wire.

“Or the natives,” Jacob added.

“But it will make it easier to manage our stock,” Thomas said.

“Look at me,” Joseph called.

They all turned to see the boy balancing on the fence further up the hill. His arms were flung wide and his feet were either side of the wire on the steps Thomas had built. They were a kind of stile, a concession to Daisy. Their friendship had never been the same since the first fence was built. He hoped she would approve of a place for her people to cross the new one.

Joseph swung his leg and jumped to the ground on the Smith's Ridge side. He spun around in a circle, and the breeze he made flipped his hat from his head.

Thomas stiffened. Dread coursed through him. “Get back over here.”

Joseph froze and stared at his father.

“Now, Joseph.”

Thomas wanted nothing to do with Smith's Ridge. In his mind that land had tainted any of his family who had touched it. The fence was a symbol of the safety to be found on the Wildu Creek side.

“Well, we know your crazy contraption works at least.” Jacob chuckled, breaking the tension as he walked along the fence towards the steps.

Joseph bent to retrieve his hat, the smile wiped from his face. As he dropped to the ground on Wildu Creek side, Jacob ruffled his hair and pushed his hat firmly on his head.

“Problems?” AJ asked.

“Smith's Ridge has always caused us grief,” Thomas said, turning his back on the fence.

“Smith's Ridge?” AJ murmured.

“But you don't want to hear about our troubles,” Thomas said. “How are things at Penakie? And Wick, how is he?”

“You'll be able to see for yourself.”

Thomas gave AJ a sideways look.

“He came with me. He's back at the house with Lizzie.”

“Truly?” Thomas smiled. He had only seen Wick a couple of times since he'd left Penakie. “I will enjoy meeting up with him again.”

“And Mother's made cake and wild peach pie.” Joseph's natural good humour had returned.

Thomas put a hand on his son's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. He rarely raised his voice to the boy. “In that case I think we should call it a day. Time to go home,” he said.

*

Later that evening, after they'd all eaten too much of Lizzie's wonderful roasted mutton and pie, Thomas, AJ and Wick remained in the outside room after everyone else had retired for the night. Thomas kept a small fire going – the days were warm but the last few nights the temperature had dropped quickly after sunset.

“This stone house you're building is a fine construction, Thomas.” AJ was settled back in his chair, his hands resting on his rounded stomach. “We should do the same at Penakie, Wick.”

“I don't know nothing about building with stone, Mr Browne.”

“You're a damn good overseer,” AJ said. “You deserve some better lodgings.”

Thomas studied Wick. The firelight flickered off his rugged features. His fair hair was thick and nearly to his shoulders and his arms bulged inside his shirt. The terrified shearer's boy had grown into a fine man.

“We had builders help us with the walls and windows,” Thomas said. “Part of the supplies Zac will bring from Port Augusta is a load of tin for the roof. We'll finish that ourselves.”

“I've seen tin being used. Cheaper and quicker than wood,” AJ said. “I think we need to look into a building you a better home, Wick. Then perhaps you can ask that young lady to marry you.” He gave a low chuckle that made his stomach wobble.

Wick stretched his hands out to the fire but kept his head lowered. Lizzie had teased him earlier about his good looks and being chased by the girls. His face had coloured then. Evidently there was a local shepherd's daughter he was smitten with. Thomas remembered his own awkwardness when it came to women.

“A new house will make life a little easier for all of us,” he said quietly. “Wooden floors, ceilings and good strong windows and a kitchen and wash house. We've got a wide verandah front and back and high walls and roof to help keep it cool. We've even put a new roof and door on the toilet.” Thomas could feel the pride inflate his chest as he went on. “The best part will be the tank dug into the hill to store rainwater from the roof. Lizzie won't have to struggle with the barrels any more; and we've dug a small cellar to store food.” He lowered his voice again. “But a roof and tank will be little use if it doesn't rain.”

“This country looks good even though it's autumn,” Wick said.

“We've had some good years.” Thomas threw another branch on the fire. Sparks crackled up into the air in a short display of glittery light. “But if we get another long dry like we did in '54, I won't be able to feed the stock I've got.”

“Do you think that's likely?” AJ asked.

“Likely? Yes,” Thomas said. “When, I don't know. The country's different up here, not like Penakie. We haven't had rain since late last year and there's no sign we're getting any shortly. I'll have too many sheep to maintain if it doesn't come down soon.”

“How many sheep do you have now?” AJ asked.

“Six thousand.”

“The Gwynns back home are looking to buy more stock,” Wick said. “I was talking to their new shepherd just before we came up here.”

“How's Duffy?” Thomas asked. “Is he still working for the Gwynns?”

“No,” Wick said. “Turned up his toes. Overseer found him dead in his swag a few weeks back. Not sure what killed him but more'n likely the grog, they reckon.”

Thomas stared into the fire. He'd never been a good friend of Duffy's but the man had certainly livened up his days at Penakie. It was sad to hear of his passing.

“Anyway,” Wick went on, “the new bloke reckons they're down on stock and looking to buy.”

“Might be worth thinking about, Thomas,” AJ said.

“Yes.” Thomas had been pondering what to do as a dry March had dragged into a dry April. He still had feed, but if he kept so much stock, it wouldn't last until next summer without rain.

“I've still got property south of Adelaide. If you ever need to, you could shift a mob down there.”

“That's very generous, AJ, though I hope it won't come to that.”

“Sounds like this neighbour of yours is causing you some trouble as well,” AJ said.

“Irritating. He's overstocked and brings his sheep onto Wildu. We've got better water supplies and more grass country than he has. I'm sure he takes sheep from time to time too.”

“Surely they're marked?” AJ leaned closer.

“They're adept at finding ways to disguise markings. I'm hopeful the new fence will slow him down.”

“What's his name?”

“Rix is the overseer but Wiltshire is the owner.”

“Septimus Wiltshire?” Wick sat straight in his chair.

“Do you know him?”

“He used to travel around our area hawking,” Wick said. “Rarely comes Penakie way any more but I've heard he's still plying his trade in other parts.”

“He wouldn't go near George Smith and his sons,” Thomas said. “It was George he swindled to get his hands on Smith's Ridge.”

“Ah. I wondered at the reason for the property name.” AJ nodded. “How did he get away with it? I wouldn't have thought George easily duped.”

“Neither he is,” Thomas said. “But Wiltshire is a cunning devil. I've discovered he's the same man who swindled me when I first began working for you.”

“Really?” AJ cast a sharp look at Thomas.

“It's a long story.”

“He's the man I told you about, Mr Browne,” Wick said. “Remember when I discovered those unmarked wool bales after Fowler's team had been through several years back?”

“We had unmarked bales when Fowler was here,” Thomas said.

“I noticed the Penakie bales before they made it onto the wagon and branded them myself,” Wick said. “I thought it had been a mistake.”

“We lost bales twice while we were using Fowler,” Thomas said. “The first time we didn't know until it was too late but the second time we marked them with thread and let them go to the port. The police in Port Augusta tracked them but the man who was found with them escaped custody. From his description I'm sure he wasn't Wiltshire.”

“Wiltshire happened to turn up at Penakie before Fowler left,” Wick said. “They appeared not to know each other but later I overhead them arguing. It wouldn't surprise me if Fowler supplied Wiltshire somehow.”

“He's slippery,” Thomas said. “I've never been able to catch him out, but I've suspected him of many things.”

BOOK: Heart of the Country
13.85Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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