Frontier Wife (4 page)

“Try it.” Her heart beat a mad tattoo against her rib cage. What a splendid specimen of manhood. Steel gray eyes, sternly chiseled features and dark wavy hair, with just a few threads of silver running through it.

He was clean-shaven except for neatly trimmed side-whiskers. He wore brown moleskin trousers tucked into black knee boots. With a white shirt opened to show one or two inches of tanned chest and curling dark body hair, Tommy inwardly raged at the shocking impact he had on her.

“We'll fight you every inch of the way.” She took up a threatening stance, hoping he didn’t notice the tremor in her voice.

“Right.” He bared his lips in a snarl. “You want war, so be it.” Without another word he swung on his heel and strode across the room.

“Mr. Munro, wait, Tommy made a currant cake.”

He hesitated at the child's cry. “Goodbye, boy.” The outside door closed behind him with a thud.

“You made him angry.” Jamie's eyes filled with tears.

“I'm sorry.” She knelt down to put her arms around his trembling shoulders. “We can still have some cake.”

He nodded his head. Scrubbing the tears away with his fingertips, he trotted towards the table.

David grimaced. “You certainly made an impression on Munro; he thought you were a man. Should have seen his face. His jaw must have dropped about a foot when he saw you.”

“It's not funny. I've never seen a man so angry. He looked like he hated us. His eyes turned cold as ice floes.”

“Well, he does have a commanding presence.” David’s observation shocked her.

“I didn't think much of him.” Liar, her conscience protested. Women would fall all over him, and the arrogant devil knew it, too. She gnawed her bottom lip, wondering how he would make good his threat to bankrupt them. Hysterical laughter bubbled up in her throat. If only he knew it, they were almost penniless, this property and Warrior being the only tangible assets they owned.

****

They had been at the farm for over a fortnight, yet not one person came to inquire about Warrior.

“I'm going into town,” David announced. “I want to find out why no one has come to inspect the stallion.”

“I might come with you. We could do with some flour and one or two other items. Let's all go, we deserve a day out,” Tommy suggested.

“Why not? Give you a chance to look the place over. There's not much more than a general store, blacksmith and bank, though. Get yourself all prettied up while I see to the horse.”

Tommy dressed in a pale blue moiré gown. Her straw bonnet was trimmed with matching ribbon. On impulse she put her jewelry in her bag, in case they might need it. David wore dark trousers tucked into black knee boots. His cambric shirt was one of the few good quality items she had brought out from England for him. Wearing a brown, wide brimmed hat they found at the homestead, he looked boyishly handsome.

His face contained more color now, and the lines of strain previously etched on his features had disappeared. His leg still gave him trouble, although he didn’t drag it so much. As for Jamie, he thrived in the heat of the Australian sun. His skin took on a honey hue; his hair bleached a couple of shades lighter.

He roamed around with the faithful Touser never far from his side. She gave him some basic school lessons. Once they settled in she would make inquiries about sending him to school. Surely there would be some decent schools nearby, even if he had to board away later on.

David, bringing the buggy out front, broke into her musings. “Ready?”

“Yes.”

He did not climb down to help her board, just gave her his hand. Jamie clambered up and sat between the two of them. A flick of the reins and they set off at a respectable pace, the wheels of the buggy leaving a ribbon of dust unfurling behind them.

It would take almost an hour to drive into town. She did not mind, it gave her a chance to survey their surroundings. The tinder dry grass waved in the breeze, the only greenness coming from the native trees and scrub. A kookaburra laughed somewhere close by, and Jamie imitated his call. They were familiar with the native birds and animals now, thanks to a book of Uncle Henry's.

The town sat in a clearing as if tossed out of the bush by some omnipotent hand. The main street contained a wheelwright's shop, a barber, blacksmith, bank and a large general store. A dozen or so houses made up the rest of the town, most of them small slab affairs, although one or two appeared to be built of brick or stone.

The street dozed in the shimmering afternoon sun, with just a few people leisurely going about their business. David climbed from the buggy outside the general store and helped her alight, leaving Jamie to jump down unassisted.

Several women stood around gossiping in the store, three men also. Tommy felt their interested if somewhat hesitant stares. The storekeeper, a dumpy little man with gray, bushy side-whiskers, nodded to them both, but his demeanor screamed agitation.

“My notice has gone from your window.” David spoke straight away. Every eye in the store turned towards them now. A strange tension twanged through the air.

“I'm sorry, Mr. Lindsay.” The storekeeper fidgeted. “I’ve been instructed to take it down.”

“Instructed to take it down? Who by?” Tommy broke in on the conversation.

“By me, Miss Lindsay.” Adam Munro stepped into her line of vision.

“You greedy tyrant.” She attacked straight away, the only form of defense she had against the lethal magnetism of this man who haunted her dreams at night, and intruded on her thoughts during the day. She shook off David’s restraining hand and marched up to the squatter. He stood motionless, feet slightly apart, thumbs thrust in his belt, head thrown back. Arrogance personified.

“You had no right taking down those signs.”

“Didn’t I, Miss Lindsay?” His voice sounded soft as silk, but his eyes glowed like hot metal.

How dare he stare at her in such an insolent manner? “I-I hate you for what you’ve done.” She clenched her fists so hard her nails nearly drew blood.

His face remained impassive. “Really?”

She wanted to claw his sneering, handsome face to shreds, pummel his chest to a pulp.

“Oh, there you are, my dear.” A pretty dark haired young woman glided towards him. “Finished your shopping?” His devastating smile took Tommy’s breath away. When the squatter picked up his companion’s hand and brought it to his lips, she felt as if someone had jumped on her chest and squeezed all the air out of her lungs.

David tugged at her arm, and like a zombie she let him lead her back towards the counter.

“I'd like some flour, tea, salt, some brown cotton, and a bag of sweets, too.” She suddenly remembered Jamie who waited outside for them.

“Can you pay?”

“I beg your pardon? Jim Cavendish said we could run up an account, or you might take some of our eggs and cheese in—”

“Sorry, Miss Lindsay, cash only.”

Adam Munro again. She swallowed down on her bitter rage as the squatter and his lady strolled out into the street.

“Just the flour, tea and sugar, please.” Her hand shook as she took the required money from her purse. How humiliating, making an exhibition of herself in front of a shop full of people.

They went out into the street and Jamie asked for his sweets.

“I couldn't afford to buy you any. We’ve only got enough money to pay for the stores.” His lips trembled although he made no further complaint.

“Let's go to the bank, perhaps we could borrow something there,” David suggested.

She brightened at once. “Yes, good idea.”

They made their way towards the red brick building that housed the bank. Compared to the other buildings along the main street it seemed large. One of the first things she noticed, every building had a verandah across the front to keep out the searing heat.

They asked to see the manager who heard them out before shaking his head.

“Unless you have some form of security, the bank couldn't lend you any money,” he almost apologized. “Maybe you could take out a mortgage on the farm?”

“No.” Tommy didn’t even try to keep her voice down. She didn’t care who heard them. Over her dead body would they mortgage the farm.

“Munro's been to see you,” David stated bluntly.

“I'm merely following normal bank policy.”

“Let's get out of here, David. It's easy to see who runs this town, Mr. High and Mighty Munro.”

“Now look here, Miss—”

Ignoring him, they walked away. Tommy resisted the temptation to slam the door behind them.

“What happens now? I need oats for Warrior. I can't have him losing any more condition.”

“I just had an idea.” She tugged at his arm. “I could sell one of those awful necklaces Aunt Margaret left me. She always wore frightful jewelry.”

He frowned. “I didn't know she left you anything.”

“Yes, several quite hideous things.” She forced a laugh even though she wanted to scream. What did a couple of miserable necklaces mean compared to his health and happiness?

Leaving Jamie with David, she returned to the bank. As a precautionary measure in case they needed some form of collateral she had carried the jewelry in her bag, never expecting to have to use it. If the manager was surprised to see her back so soon, he refrained from saying so.

“Could I help you with something else, Miss Lindsay?”

“Yes, we need money. Would you be interested in buying this?” From her bag she withdrew an emerald droplet on a fine gold chain.

“You want to sell it?” He dangled the pendant in one hand. “I would have to get it valued.”

“Well, it isn't stolen if that's what you think.”

He returned within a short time. “I can give you thirty-five pounds for it.”

It was worth a great deal more, but being desperate she couldn’t argue with him. “I’d like twenty pounds now and could you open an account for me and deposit the rest?”

“Of course.” He poured on the charm now. Amazing the change in attitude when you had money. Bitterness tinged her smile as she gave him the required details. With the twenty pounds in her bag she left the bank. David would never know the pendant had been a gift from her wealthy Godmother.

David whistled through his teeth when she gave him the twenty pounds.

“Why don't we buy a few extra things while we're here?” she suggested. Adam Munro would probably instruct the storekeeper not to sell them anything when he realized his first shot didn’t bring them to their knees.

They bought bags of sugar and flour, some salt and tea, also treacle and Jamie’s sweets. While she and Jamie waited in the buggy David went to see about oats for Warrior. He came back within a short time grinning.

“I'm getting a few extra bags while I can. I've been offered a reduction in price if I put in a good order.”

They drove to the feed store where a giant of a man greeted them. He helped David load up the bags then with a brief wave left them. David was breathing heavily with the exertion, and it broke her heart to see her once strong, agile brother so weakened he couldn’t load a few bags of feed without distress.

Friends of theirs held a farewell ball when his regiment left for Africa. How handsome those young men had looked, their red tunics bright against the pastel shades of the ladies’ gowns. Now most of them lay dead, thousands of miles from home. The Honorable Anthony Winspoon who professed undying love for her, had died. The Zulu warriors spared none of them.