To Love Anew (28 page)

“No. It’ll be me. And I want it to be me. I don’t trust Henry. I’ll see to it that he doesn’t cheat Mr. Atherton. And if I get my chance . . .”

“Give your bitterness to God, John. He’ll deal with Mr. Hodgsson. Revenge brings nothing but trouble. You’ll be much better off if you can forgive the wrong done to you. Forgiveness is good for a person’s soul. The Scriptures state clearly that vengeance belongs to the Lord.”

John was in no mood to hear sermonizing from Hannah. He stared at her across the table. “You speak of forgiveness, but you’ve demons of your own. I’ve seen your anguish.” Gripping the handle of the knife, he looked at her. “Who is it you can’t forgive, Hannah?”

“Whatever do you mean?” Hannah picked up her napkin and refolded it. “I bear no grudge against any man.”

“Something plagues you. You can’t hide it. I see it lurking inside.”

Hannah looked at him, but didn’t hold his gaze and turned her eyes back to her napkin folding. She compressed her lips. “I dare say, we all have shadows from our past—things best left alone.”

John immediately felt badly at confronting Hannah. It was clear that whatever beset her was too painful for her to speak of. He gently grasped her hand. “My apologies for prying. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“You haven’t. Not at all,” she said, but her dark eyes said otherwise.

23

It had been weeks since John had last seen Henry, but he was even more certain that he was corrupt. Hands clenched, he stepped out of Henry Hodgsson’s office.
He’s depraved. He can’t
be trusted.

In spite of his anger, John felt triumphant. He’d managed to convince Henry that he’d forgiven him and that their bad history had been set aside. He smiled.
A day will come when
he receives what he deserves. All I need do is wait and watch.
He’ll reveal his treacherous heart.

John headed up the street toward the stables. He hoped to be home before dark. Perhaps he could convince Hannah to take a stroll with him. Since their trip into Port Jackson, the rapport between them had improved. They’d spent many hours together. He smiled, remembering her competitiveness and her laughter as she’d learned the games of chess and cribbage.

She turned out to be an adept pupil at cribbage, but chess was another matter. She’d furrow her brows and study the board, making cautious moves and building strategies, but she’d yet to best him.
Perhaps she’ll join me for a game of chess tonight.
I could lose on purpose
, he thought and then decided against it. She’d know.

Thinking about spending time with Hannah, he pushed away thoughts of Henry.
We’re closer
, he thought.
I know I’m
not imagining it.
He considered their recent exchanges and was convinced that she loved him. She’d said as much that one evening. What held her back now he could only guess. Something or someone had hurt her. He could see it in her eyes.
I must convince her I can make her happy and will never
cause her harm.

John planned to ask for her hand again. He’d been waiting for an opportune moment.

So occupied with thoughts of Hannah, John nearly walked into Gavin Brice, a local businessman.

“Good day, John.” Gavin grasped him by the shoulders. He grinned. “Your mind elsewhere?”

“I guess so.” John focused on the big man. “Shall we begin again?” He reached for Gavin’s hand. “Good day to you.”

“I’ve missed seeing you ’bout the work site.”

“Mr. Atherton has me busy with business. I planned on stopping by your place next week. I’ve nearly finished the tools you ordered.”

“Good.” Gavin lifted his hat, swiped his hair back, and then settled the hat on his head. Glancing at a hazy blue sky, he said, “It’s a hot one.”

“Bit unusual for September, I’m told.”

“We’re only two days from October. Heat usually starts settling in ’bout now.” He rested a hand against the side of a building and leaned. “Heard William’s business is thriving. From what I’ve seen at the docks he’s shipping out a good deal of lumber.”

“Right. We’re doing well. There’s a great need for raw timber as well. I’m managing some of the shipments. In fact, that’s why I’m here. Had paperwork to sign for Mr. Hodgsson on a shipment of logs.”

“So William is also selling logs? Thought he dealt mainly with sawn lumber.”

“He did, but diversification’s a good idea.”

“Right smart of him.” Gavin folded his arms over his chest. “And you’re working with Hodgsson, eh?”

“We are.”

“He handled a couple of transactions for me. I’ve yet to receive payment. In fact, as far as I know the shipment hasn’t yet made it to Newcastle.”

“Didn’t make it?” John’s curiosity piqued.

“Hodgsson told me there was a delay getting the goods out. He assures me everything’s in order.”

John couldn’t quiet his suspicions. “What kind of delay?”

“He didn’t say exactly. But it shouldn’t take more than a week or two.”

“How long’s it been?”

“A good three weeks.”

“Did you contact the buyers?”

Gavin nudged his hat up. “You know how it is in Newcastle. It’s still a fledgling settlement, nearly all prison trade. That’s the trouble, can’t connect with anyone up there.”

“You hear of anybody else having difficulties with Hodgsson?” John asked.

Gavin scrubbed at a day-old beard. “Blanchett had some trouble. Maybe another fellow too.”

John’s suspicions grew. Most likely Henry was up to no good. “You might want to do some more checking on that shipment. I don’t completely trust Mr. Hodgsson. He’s a dubious past.”

“How so?” Gavin narrowed his eyes.

John let out a loud breath. “Hate to admit it, but he’s my cousin. We were partners in a machining business back in London. After I was arrested, he liquidated the company and disappeared with the assets. Never saw him again until he showed up here. I’d hoped he’d changed.”

“Why didn’t you say something?” Gavin’s tone demanded an answer.

“Wanted to be fair-minded. It’s possible he’s legitimate.” The more John thought about the circumstances, the more alarmed and the angrier he became. “But I’m going to have a talk with him now. Right now.”

“I’ll go with you.”

The two marched back to Hodgsson’s office. Hands clenched, John stopped at the office door. “Best to be subtle,” John warned Gavin, who had a reputation for a hot temper, but the warning was as much for himself as well.

Gavin nodded.

John opened the door and stepped in with Gavin right behind him.

Henry slid a file drawer closed. “John, did you forget something?”

“No. Just have a few questions.”

“So do I,” Gavin said. He moved closer to Henry. “I got tired of waiting for payment on those goods you shipped so I tried to contact the company. Couldn’t find them.”

Henry smiled easily. If he’d been up to no good, it didn’t show. “No worries. All that happened was the ship that your goods were scheduled to go on was overloaded. Had to wait for the next one to go out.” He rubbed his chin. “There’s a lot going on up that way. There’s still work being done on the prison, plus they’re trying to get some housing up for the administration. It’s not easy communicating with those blokes.” He rested a hand on Gavin’s shoulder. “It all takes time.” He turned back to the file cabinet and opened a drawer.

“Let’s see here.” He pulled out a shipping order. “Yes. Here it is. That shipped on the first of September. Not so long ago. As I said, deliveries have been held up. And the weather’s given us a little trouble—heavy seas. Your shipment will get there. Be patient.”

“It’s nearly October. Those crates didn’t ship out of the country; they were hauled up the coast.”

“If it will make you feel better, I’ll look into it,” Henry assured him. He focused on John. “Now, what can I do for you?”

“I want you to hold off on the shipment for Mr. Atherton.” “It’s too late for that. They’re loaded and scheduled for departure tomorrow. I’m not about to unload all that timber. Unless, of course, Mr. Atherton doesn’t mind paying the cost of labor and storage.”

John wasn’t sure what to do. He needed to speak with Mr. Atherton. If he was wrong about Hodgsson, it could cost his employer a huge sum. “I’ll be back tomorrow. The ship better not sail until I speak to you.”

“It’ll go with the tide. I’ve no control over that.” Henry’s eyes were hard.

“I’ll be back,” John said and strode toward the door, certain Henry was running some kind of swindle.

“I expect payment,” Gavin demanded. “If I don’t have it in a week, consider our contract invalid.” He followed John out.

The men headed down the street. “You think he’s taken those supplies for himself?” Gavin asked. “And he’s selling them and keeping the money?”

“Could be. We have to see if your goods were sent out, and if they were, when and where.” He walked faster. “I’ve got to speak to Mr. Atherton.” He stopped in front of the mercantile. “I’ll see you here in the morning. With a bit of luck we’ll get some answers. See what you can find out about your shipment and if anyone else has been having trouble with deliveries or payments.”

Late in the day, John rode into the Athertons’ yard. He hoped it wasn’t too late to save his employer’s goods.

After explaining what he knew, he and Mr. Atherton headed back to Port Jackson. John felt responsible. He should have voiced his suspicions sooner.

Contemplating the consequences Henry faced if he were caught in a swindle, John smiled. He’d pay dearly, and the thought of that gave John satisfaction. Retribution would be sweet.

The sky turned pink and when the last of the sunlight faded, John and Mr. Atherton were forced to stop for the night. They tied their horses, lay out their saddle blankets, and settled down. The air was warm so there was no need for a fire.

The night was filled with sounds of the bush—cicadas thrummed, frogs chirped from the nearby river, and a dingo yipped in the distance. John rested against his saddle and chewed on a piece of dried meat. Staring up at the night sky, apprehension stirred in him. He’d acted hastily. What if he were wrong and had dragged Mr. Atherton all the way to Port Jackson without cause? He’d be a laughingstock and maybe worse. One word from his employer and he could end up back in prison. And Henry would be free to continue spending his money.

“I thought his prices were a bit too reasonable,” Mr. Atherton said. “I’m usually more cautious in my business dealings.” He let out a breath. “I’m grateful you were keeping an eye out.”

“I should have said something about his past. And I would have, except I wasn’t sure if he’d changed. I didn’t know with certainty that he couldn’t be trusted. We’re still not sure.”

“You’re right there. I hope this is all a misunderstanding. If not, there are a lot of fine gents who’ve been dealing with him and who have a lot to lose.”

“I hope I’m wrong,” John said, but he didn’t mean it. He wanted his revenge. This was the perfect opportunity. He’d hoped to catch Henry in wrongdoing, and now it seemed his need was about to be satisfied. His actions hadn’t been unselfish.

The morning air was cool and damp. While John and William Atherton downed a dry biscuit and water, chattering birds serenaded them.

They saddled their horses and headed toward Port Jackson. “I’ve a bad feeling.” Mr. Atherton rested a hand on his saddle horn. “Hope we get there before that ship sails. I’m not about to let that timber go until I know it’s heading to the right people for the right price.”

As they approached the colony, John tightened his hold on the reins.
God, let the ship still be in the harbor.
The two men crested a hill overlooking Port Jackson and the bay.

“There it is,” Mr. Atherton said.

John blew out a relieved breath. Even if he was right about Henry, at least the timber was safe.

They tied their horses and walked to Henry’s office. Something felt wrong. The building looked dark and the door was ajar.

They stepped inside. The room was in disarray. Cabinet drawers stood open, papers littered the floor. Henry was nowhere to be seen.

“Seems you were right,” Mr. Atherton said. “He’s run. And it’s a good assumption he’s gone off with whatever funds he had, including my money.”

“You still have your timber.”

“I do at that. And I’d best see it remains here.” He headed for the door.

“I’ll find Henry. The money’s sure to be with him.” John faced Mr. Atherton. “Sorry, sir. This is my fault.”

“No use blaming yourself. You didn’t know he’d do something like this.”

“I suspected.”

Atherton stared at John, but there was no anger in his eyes. “Go on, now. See if you can get someone to help you hunt him down.”

John went straight to the stables.

“He left at first light,” the stable hand said. “Headed north on horseback. Told him he was a fool to try. It’s rough going, no roads.” The man shook his head. “He’ll end up a pile of bones.”

“You think I’d have any luck following him?” asked John.

“Doubt it. The brush is thick that way and there are canyons and the like.” He shrugged. “He might leave a trail to follow.” The man scratched stubble on his chin. “Ye could try a black tracker. They know their way, and if Henry stays with his horse, a tracker can find him.”

“Right then. Thank you.” John went in search of Gavin.

Gavin had no difficulty finding a tracker who was willing to trade his skills for a modest amount of tobacco. By late morning, he, John, and another man named Jack had set out after Henry. Jack’s boss had been having trouble with Hodgsson, so when he found out a swindle was in progress, he insisted one of his men go.

In spite of the tracker, John felt ill at ease riding into the bush. He had no weapon and there were stories about those who’d tried to find their way through. The word was that none had made it.

He eyed the Aborigine tracker. He was small of stature, but he moved fast and seemed to have no difficulty following Henry’s trail. Obviously he was skilled; John just hoped he could be trusted.

By late afternoon, the sun blazed hot and merciless. The brush seemed to close in around them. And while they fought for every foot the tracker seemed tireless. The horses blew air from their nostrils, tossed their heads, and shied from stickery plants and scuttling lizards. Their coats glistened with sweat.