Authors: Margaret Tanner
“Yes, it must be wretched for you.” Tommy filled the kettle with water. “How about another cup of tea?”
“No more, please, we must have drunk twenty cups.”
Finally they retired to bed. Tommy knew she wouldn’t sleep but what else could she do? How long did it take to control a fire? David knew nothing about bushfires. But as an experienced army officer who had led men into battle, he wouldn’t take unnecessary risks.
She tossed and turned for hours. Jamie slept soundly, giving a little snore every now and again. Perhaps some warm milk might settle her down.
Sliding off David’s bed, she padded bare-footed down the passage. Mary slept, exhausted from the trauma of worrying about Jim. What if something had happened to them? Surely someone would have come and told them? Visions of charred bodies rose up like a ghastly mural in front of her eyes and she clenched her teeth to stop from screaming out loud.
Some instinct drew her outside. What an eerie sight. In the distance an orange cloud raced along, lighting up the night sky and devouring everything in its path.
The breeze lifted, blowing the loose nightgown against her legs, and the back part of the garment billowed out like a sail. The dry burning heat sucked the moisture out of her throat making it difficult to swallow, harder to breathe. Tommy watched in fascination as balls of fire shot upwards before plunging to the ground like giant red hailstones. She had never witnessed anything like it before.
David would be all right, of course, he would. Jim was an experienced frontier man, well-versed in the treacherous whims of a bushfire.
She dozed in an armchair until dawn broke. The sun, a huge fiery ball, edged its way up from behind the mountains. What a savage, brutal land.
By the time Jamie and Mary woke up, Tommy had prepared breakfast. As soon as they finished eating, she changed into her riding habit and with a reassuring smile rode off. “I’ll only be gone a few hours. I’ll have the men with me when I return, never fear.”
The wind lifted and a pall of smoke engulfed the mountains. As she rode nearer, blackened leaves driven for miles dropped around her. The horse became skittish, making it hard to control. Scurrying wildlife met her now, kangaroos, rabbits, even an emu or two, yet the sky appeared bereft of any bird life. She felt like she was entering the jaws of hell. Her eyes smarted from the stinging smoke; breathing became harder as she rode along a rutted track. Maybe she shouldn’t have left the safety of home.
A sudden bend in the track showed several weary, blackened men clearing scrub along the side of a creek.
“Do you know where Jim Cavendish is?” She rubbed her arm across her perspiring forehead.
An older man straightened. “Across that bridge, about half a mile farther up the track. Better not go there though, if the wind changes it’ll come straight down on top of you. You’re safer here, Miss Lindsay.”
She ignored them and kept on riding. They were too busy or weary to make any real effort to stop her. Her horse, usually a placid beast started to prance around and toss its head. When she spied a clearing with a dozen or so horses in a temporary holding yard, she decided to leave hers here also.
She dismounted. The smoke laden air intensified the heat, but this did not deter her. Except for the shouts and oaths of men, it seemed strangely silent.
On rounding a bend she spotted several men burning a firebreak. A sudden gust of wind nearly blew her hat off and she made a frantic grab for it. Mesmerized, she watched as a thin trail of flame soared in a straight line up a tree, followed by a small explosion as the gum leaves ignited.
“What the hell are you doing here, Miss Lindsay?” She was shocked when Adam strode up to her. His face was grimy and blackened, his cheeks beneath the dark beard stubble streaked with white lines from where perspiration had run.
“I’m looking for David, if it’s any of your business.” She turned her back on him and started walking away.
“I want you out of here. Now.” He grabbed her arm and swung her around to face him.
“Take your hands off me.” She tried to push him away.
“They’re both all right; I saw them a few moments ago. Things aren’t going well, the wind is so unpredictable,” he declared more calmly. “You think the lines are holding then whoosh, it changes direction. I’ll walk back to the horses with you, good chance to collect some more wet bags.”
“I’m not going anywhere until I find Jim and David.” She shook herself free and walked away.
He followed. “I told you they’re safe. For God’s sake, can’t you take my word for it?”
Tommy suddenly saw a little dog tottering along on three legs. Nausea rose up in her throat. One leg had been burned off leaving just a blackened stump, both his ears were gone, and his whimpering cries smote her hard. It was the most sickening sight she had ever seen.
“Look.” She clutched Adam’s arm and he swung around.
“What!”
“The dog. You’ll have to do something, to put the poor thing out of its misery.”
“Stay with him, I’ve got a pistol in my saddle bag.”
He strode off, and forgetting her own fear she knelt down beside the pathetic little creature and patted the one spot on his head that hadn’t been burned. She could have wept at the dumb suffering in its big brown eyes and his human like sobs of pain. “We can’t save you, darling, you’re too badly injured, but Adam won’t let you suffer any more.”
A piece of burned-through rope hung around its neck. She spoke soothingly to the poor creature even as she shuddered with revulsion. What kind of fiend would leave an animal tied up with a bushfire coming?
A creek flowed nearby, not much more than a trickle, but she made for it. She would give the little dog a drink. Idiotic really under the circumstances, but she wanted his final memory in this world to be of an act of kindness, not cruelty. The banks were quite steep and covered with blackberries and undergrowth. A fallen log, part of the way across formed a bridge, and by edging along and avoiding the brambles she could squat down and scoop some water into her hat. She stood up and moving one foot cautiously after the other, made for the bank.
Whoosh. She screamed as a fireball fell within a few hundred feet of the creek, followed by another and another, until they peppered the bush like giant red stones. In a few seconds the gust turned into a whirlwind, and though the front of the fire was a quarter of a mile away, little orange balls of flame dropped all around her.
Tommy ran. The water slopped out of the hat and onto her shirt. She gasped for breath by the time she reached the dog. It still laid there, eyes closed, scarcely breathing, but still whimpering.
“Adam. Oh, my God.”
“I got back as soon as I could. Stand near that tree. We must be quick,” he panted.
Meekly she did so. With her arms wrapped around the trunk and eyes closed, she rested her cheek against the rough bark. The one shot sounded overloud, then an eerie silence followed.
The wind gave a treacherous about-face and she felt heat searing through her clothes.
“We’ve got to get out of here, the treetops are alight,” Adam yelled. “The whole mountain is set to explode.”
Adam grasped her hand as they raced along. “What about the others?”
“I passed them on the way back. Everyone’s cleared out to the main fire break near the horses. The flames would have to jump the river to get across there.”
The smoke became denser. The trees above their heads crackled and exploded as the fire swept along. The numerous fireballs started scrub fires in several different places.
“Faster.” Adam dragged her along after him.
She could feel the soles of her feet burning through her shoes, and it became difficult to breathe. “Go on without me.” She tried to jerk free. “You can go faster on your own.”
“No. We’ll never make it back to the others now. Quick, the creek.” His voice sounded hoarse. Tommy feared they would die. She dared not look, but the backs of her legs burned. Day turned into night with frightening speed.
“Come on.” Adam kept tugging at her hand. The branches of small bushes swung forward by him snapped back on her as she followed. With burning lungs and streaming eyes, she ran in a blind panic, carried on by the force of him dragging her along. They wouldn’t make it. They would die here, because the hungry flames wanted to devour them. She would never see Jamie or David again. Never be able to tell Adam that…Oh, God, please help us, she prayed.
She stumbled and fell to her knees. The ground felt so hot, it burned through her clothes. Though half-blinded by smoke, she saw a giant wall of flame racing towards them. Adam pulled her up.
“Hell, it’s closer than I thought. Another few yards,” he gasped, taking a couple of ragged breaths. “Quick.”
Adam was panting too, and she wondered how he could speak at all. With the flames coming closer and the radiated heat burning through her clothes, they made it to the creek. Heedless of the blackberry bushes, they forced their way to the edge. Adam grabbed her around the waist and leapt the five feet or so to the middle. He landed and rolled, taking her with him, finally settling flat on his back with her on top.
The sandy creek bed cushioned their fall. The water was only knee-deep even though they were out in the middle. Thick blackberries and vines clung to the embankment on either side, almost meeting at the narrowest section.
“We’ll catch fire,” she rasped, struggling for breath.
“No, we won’t.”
“We will. The blackberries will catch fire.” She grabbed at his shirt.
“Don’t be silly, the water should protect us from radiated heat. The smoke will be bad though. Hold on, here it comes.”
She heard an almighty roar, and a furnace-like blast engulfed them. Adam rolling half on top of her shielded her from the worst heat and she buried her face in his chest. The top buttons of his shirt had been ripped off and his skin felt hot and damp against her cheek.
His strong arms held her close. Was it her imagination or did his chin rub against her hair? “Don’t be afraid, my darling.” The whispered endearment caused her to tremble.
In silence they watched as the flames burned fiercely along the sides instead of billowing towards them. Black clouds of smoke spiraled upwards before disappearing into the haze. Another shift of the wind came. It chopped and changed so fast they couldn’t gauge where the demented flames might scorch next.
The fire did not cross the creek, but roared past them on the other side. She felt weak with relief, but somehow bereft when Adam rolled away.
Without speaking he scooped up a handful of water and dribbled it all over her, before flinging himself in lengthwise. He rolled over and over and Tommy did likewise. The water felt warm, about the same temperature she would bathe in.
“A piece of soap and we could have a bath.” He must have thought along the same lines. He gave a wolfish grin but his eyes were achingly tender. Was he thinking of their brush with death?
“Yes.” What would it be like sharing a bathtub with Adam? The wanton pictures such a thought conjured up shocked her. The flames must have cooked her brain.
They only needed to wait for the burnt ground to cool down enough so they could walk on it, and for her to gather her scattered wits. Adam must never know how being held against his muscular body affected her.
“Do you think the other men will be safe?” Her voice sounded husky, kind of dried out.
“Yes, they had plenty of time to escape. If it wasn’t for the dog we wouldn’t have been trapped, either.”
“Where’s your pistol?”
“Damn, I must have dropped it.”
“I’m sorry. You wouldn’t be in this mess except for me.”