Daring Masquerade (25 page)

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As Ross sailed away from Australia, the timber men moved into town. One of their neighbors, an elderly man who had two sons serving overseas, rode over to see them. He didn't dismount from his horse but spoke to Jack in a quick, angry staccato.

"Bromley's mill is working practically around the clock now. I heard a rumor he plans to cut a road through Ross' paddocks. I thought it only fair to warn you. He wants access to the timber at the back of Devil's Ridge."

"They won't get away with this." Jack muttered a curse. "Thanks for letting us know Dave. I'll sit up with a gun all night if need be to thwart those bastards, I swear it."

"I'll join you," Harry promised.

"I don't want any trouble," Dave said. "With my two boys away I'm helpless if they turn on me."

A few days later flames shot up into the sky from their back paddock.

Jack squinted into the sun. "It's those bloody timber men, they're burning the undergrowth."

The smoke became so bad Mrs. Bates closed all the windows. As the wind picked up, burning cinders peppered the back yard.

"If they're not bloody careful they'll set the mountains on fire," Jack growled. "Us too. Thank God the worst heat of summer is gone. I'm going over to see them. What the bloody hell do they think they're doing?"

"I'll come with you."

"No, stay here, Harry. In case of spot fires."

Mr. Wu, the Chinese gardener, ran around in a frenzy, his pigtail bobbing up and down as he stamped on the burning leaves dropping on his lawn. Hughie helped Harry wet bags in case they needed them, and they filled up barrels of water from the closest dam and rolled them into the wagonette. Guilt weighed her down at having to let the old man do most of the heavy lifting. She helped him as best she could, but dared not risk doing anything that might cause her to lose Ross' baby.

She drove the wagon to the back of the house through blinding smoke. The horse became skittish and it took all her skill and strength to keep it in check. Smoke blotted out the sun, Jack was right, Bromley deliberately planned to smoke them out.

I'll never leave here.
They'll have to kill me first.

Her breath came out in harsh labored pants. Burning leaves, driven by the wind, peppered the ground as she and Hughie darted amongst the pine trees trying to smother them with wet bags.

Where was Jack? Dusk fell. Still he didn't return. The smoke started to clear now; the timber men must have decided to put their fires out and go home.

Panic built up. Surely they would not have done anything to Jack. She got Hughie to saddle her horse and rode in the direction of the burn-off. She was shocked on reaching the border of their property where it joined the crown land. For half a mile or more Ross' paddocks smoldered, blackened and ruined, grotesque in the fading light.

You won't get away with this. I'll put the law on you, Bromley, you despicable pig.

Where was Jack? She rode around searching for him. Her heart slammed against her rib cage, her hands trembled.

"Jack, where are you? Jack!" She screamed his name.

The light faded; soon it would be pitch black.

"It's Harry. Where are you?" she called out, her desperation mounting.

She stopped to listen. Above the chatter of night birds, had someone called out to her? Dismounting, she proceeded on foot, pushing her way through the thick bush.

"Jack."

"I'm over here." She almost collapsed with relief when he finally answered. "Those bastards tried to kill me."

She forced her way deeper into the bushy undergrowth, ignoring the small branches snapping back on her. Suddenly, she tripped over the body of Jack's horse and fell to her knees. Fear such as she had never known before almost overwhelmed her. She gritted her teeth and dragged herself upright, clinging to a sapling for support while she mustered her courage to continue searching, instead of making a dash for the relative safety of the homestead.

"Where are you?" Her trembling legs felt weighted down with lead as she struggled onwards.

"Here."

A bush shook a few feet away to her right.

"I think my ribs are broken. Bastards sunk their boots into me."

She knelt down beside him and tried to pull him out, but he screamed in agony.

"When I tried to get away, they shot my horse out from under me. Lucky they didn't kill me."

"Can you move at all?"

"Let me wriggle out of here then you can help me up."

The bushes moved. Groaning loudly, he dragged himself out and collapsed at her feet.

"Give me a hand up," he gasped.

On hands and knees he managed to grab hold of her legs. She braced herself to take his weight as he pulled himself upright.

"Can you walk? My horse is only a few yards away."

With him leaning heavily against her and groaning with pain, they made it to the horse, still waiting patiently where she had left it. Even with her help it took several attempts before he could mount. She clambered up behind him.

He moaned, gasping for breath. What if his lungs had been punctured? He was doubled over in pain. Perched up behind him, she could not reach the reins, but the horse knew its way home. What a nightmare ride. If he collapsed and fell off the horse she wouldn't be able to get him back on again.

A veil of darkness shrouded the bush now, but in the distance the lights from the homestead stood out, a welcoming beacon. As they trotted into the front yard, Hughie rushed out, while Mrs. Bates stood on the verandah wringing her hands."

"Hell, Jack what happened?"

"He's been bashed up."

Hughie muttered several swear words that would have shocked her had she not been so upset. Between the two of them they managed to get Jack off the horse and half carry him into the homestead.

Harry let out a shocked breath when the lamplight showed the extent of his injuries. One of Jack's eyes was swollen and almost closed, with an ugly bleeding cut over it. Lacerations covered his face and his nose dripped blood.

"Who beat you up like this?" Hughie asked as Mrs. Bates hurried off to bring in hot water and the first aid supplies.

"Some of those timber cutters Bromley brought in attacked me. I tried to ride off and they shot my horse out from under me. When they got me to the ground, they sunk their boots in."

"Mongrels," Hughie fumed. "If I was a few years younger I'd bloody well kill them with my bare hands."

Harry gently bathed Jack's face, then helped the housekeeper bind his ribs.

"We'll get the doctor in the morning," she said. "I'm reporting what happened to the police. They aren't going to get away with this. We'll gather up the men and confront them."

"There aren't any men," Hughie said. "The last of them left this morning, ungrateful mongrels."

"What do you mean, there aren't any men?" Jack demanded, having recovered a little with the aid of a glass of brandy.

"Up and left. Bromley offered them more money and the mongrels took off."

"I knew some of them went, but all of them?"

"Archie's still here, he's riding the boundaries though. You know how he likes his own company. Told them to go to hell, the same as I did."

"Bloody cheek." Jack groaned with pain.

Harry passed a trembling hand over her aching forehead. Nausea rose up in her throat and she gulped it down. She wanted to scream but couldn't afford the luxury. Couldn't think straight, fear and exhaustion had dulled her brain. In the morning she would work out what they could do.

"You'll have to stay here in the homestead, Jack, so we can watch you." She didn't recognize this wavering voice as belonging to her.

"Okay, I'm not up to arguing," he confessed with a grimace. "Hughie can help me to Eric's room."

"Thank you for your help today, Hughie," she managed to get out. "And for not going off with Bromley."

"The Calverts have been good to me over the years, I won't desert you. Only wish I wasn't so old and useless."

She stumbled over to him and kissed his cheek. "Thank you for being so loyal to the Calverts. You're not useless, either. Bromley is doing this on purpose. He's going to try and destroy Devil's Ridge while Ross is away."

"Yeah, with the help of that bitch of a woman he's married to." Jack banged one fist against the other. "They deserve each other."

"They hate me, Virginia because I'm married to Ross, and Bromley because I showed him up in public."

"I'm afraid you're right."

"They won't get away with it," Harry vowed. "I'll fight them to the death."

"You need to be careful of him, my dear. You have the child to think of. Ross wouldn't want you putting yourself at risk."

"I'll be all right. I can't let them ruin Devil's Ridge."

"Things will look better in the morning," Mrs. Bates soothed. "What we all need is a good night's sleep."

Jack declined Hughie's offer to help him into bed.

"I'm not a cripple. I can put myself to bed. You head off, Hughie; do the milking in the morning for me, will you? I don't think I'll be up to it."

"Sure, boss. Goodnight, ladies, see you in the morning."

Harry took a kettle of hot water into the bathroom and had a wash. She simply did not have the energy to boil enough water for a bath tonight.

Things will be better in the morning. She lay in bed cuddling Eric's rag doll. I wish you were here Ross. She rested her cheek against the doll's grinning face. Where are you now?

* * *

Next morning, she came down to breakfast late. Jack sat at the table spooning porridge carefully into his mouth. His appearance shocked her, his face bruised and battered, one eye completely closed and black.

"Those animals. How could they do this to you?" she ranted. "What type of creatures are they?"

"Hughie heard some of them are from Beechworth jail, let out for the day to help Bromley."

That would be right. He would be getting their labor for nothing. She snatched up a slice of toast and rammed it into her mouth.

"No local men would have attacked me like they did. Never recognized any of them."

"I'm going into town to see the police," she stated emphatically.

"Won't do you much good." Jack's mouth took on a cynical curve. "They're probably on Bromley's pay roll too. Forced out the old policemen who have been here for years. They were bushman. Those fellows at the station now wouldn't know a horse from a bloody cow."

Harry dressed in pants and a shirt, with a hat pulled down over her forehead. Easier and safer travelling as a man. Thinking about prisoners wandering around loose gave her the shivers.

As she rode past the blackened, burnt out section leading to the crown land, fury surged through her. She clung to the small comfort that at least no local would do such a dreadful thing. Five hundred yards wide and half a mile long, the scorched ground stretched out like a black ribbon until it joined up with the road leading into town.

A couple of miles from the homestead, the road forked, on the right it led to the mill, the left took you into town. She rode down the main street and spied the framework for a new building. And the general store now extended into an adjoining shop.

Bromley obviously poured money into the town trying to buy the population. She waved to a couple of people who acknowledged her, but the majority turned their faces away. Most of them thought her an oddity, wondering why Ross had married her. After the baby's birth, especially if it came early, they would begin working out dates and jump to the right conclusion.

I don't care. I love him and he loves me, too, now. As long as the baby is healthy, Devil's Ridge isn't ruined and Ross comes home to me, I don't care about anything else.

A thin, weasel-faced policeman listened to her story about the fire and Jack being attacked.

"Why didn't he report it himself?" He doodled on a piece of paper.

"Because he's too badly injured."

"No need to take that attitude, Mrs. Calvert."

"What attitude am I supposed to take?" She stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at him. "My husband's property gets burned, cinders drop all around our homestead. We could have been burnt to death and Jack gets bashed."

"Now look here."

"You look here. Bromley's behind all of this. I want you to do something about it. I want this intimidation stopped."

"You can file a report."

"Good, give me the paper and I'll gladly write it out. You can come and interview Jack too. He'll tell you what happened."

"I'm busy."

"Are you? I suppose you know about the prisoners from Beechworth that Bromley's got to do his dirty work?"

"You better watch what you're saying, Mrs. Calvert. Clyde Bromley is a powerful man. We wouldn't want to upset him."

"Upset him?" Harry seethed. "I'm not afraid of Bromley," she went on recklessly, "or any of his jailbird friends."

She stormed out of the police station. The police weren't about to do anything. Everyone was either too scared of Bromley or on his payroll.

On the spur of the moment, she decided to go to the local newspaper office. They had written an article condemning the destruction.

"Calm down, Mrs. Calvert," the editor said. "I've known the Calverts for years. My older brother and Jack used to knock around together, but you're making serious accusations."

"They attacked Jack and bashed him." She leaned on the desk and stared him straight in the eye. "If you don't believe me, come out and see him. Ross is on his way to France. How can I let them ruin Devil's Ridge? The police won't do anything. Bromley is using prison labor from Beechworth."

"What?" The man jerked upright in his chair. "Are you sure?"

"That's what Jack said. They were the ones who bashed him up. He said no locals would burn our land. They could have set the homestead on fire." She shuddered. "Burning cinders dropped everywhere."

"I'll do an article on it, but I have to be careful. Bromley would sue me at the drop of a hat, and put me out of business. I'll have to say I interviewed you, and it could mean more trouble."

"What else can he do? If it will stop them taking that timber and ruining Devil's Ridge, I'll take the risk."