The Convict and the Cattleman (5 page)

Bridgit, used to being talked about, couldn’t help feeling ashamed as Mr. Andrus introduced her.

“Natty Payne, miss.” He offered his grubby hand and a wide smile. At least three of his front teeth were missing. He might be brash, but he was amiable. Her arm brushed the front of Mr. Andrus’s shirt when she leaned over to shake Natty’s hand. A tingle shot through her fingers. It had nothing to do with the other man’s firm grip.

“Bridgit Madden.” She offered what she hoped was a warm smile.

“I pity you, lass, stuck with this one. He’s about as friendly as a dingo with its foot caught in a trap.”

Mr. Andrus’s smiled faded a touch, but he shook his head in a good-natured way. “Natty, I haven’t come here for you to ruin my character. I thought we could get a decent meal and a night’s rest before we move on.”

“Aye, the pair of you look a mess. Roll that buggy to the house. I’ll catch up. Bess’ll be dancing a jig when she learns there’s another woman to talk at. Me ears are worn to nubs living with her all these years. Tell her I’ll be along shortly.”

Mr. Andrus flicked the reins over the horse’s back again and it set off at a trot down the rocky road. Bridgit was flummoxed by this turn of events. He hadn’t mentioned they would be staying with anyone. She thought he meant to go straight back to his station. Bad enough Mr. Andrus saw her dirty and unkempt, but greeting his friends the same way was unthinkable.

A small wooden structure rose out of the bush. Chickens ran through the yard, chased by a girl no more than four or five years old. She, in turn, was chased by a girl in her teens. The older girl seemed frustrated over the child’s escape. A rangy boy with Natty’s red hair swept the area in front of the house. The children stopped their activity as the gig approached.

A woman’s voice drifted out of the house. “Bitty, you caught Margie yet? You bring her in so I can clean her up before we eat.”

The children stared, eyes wandering between Mr. Andrus and Bridgit. She smiled nervously, hating the attention, although she hoped to make a good impression on the family.

When the woman received no response, she came outside, wiping her hands on her apron. “God’s hair,” she said, staring. “If it ain’t the grazier as I live and breathe. And he’s brought a woman along, too.”

Bridgit reckoned this was Natty’s Bess. She was short and plump. Streaks of gray wound through the messy knot of hair at the back of her head. Her wide smile encouraged Bridgit to relax.

“Evening, Bess. Natty’s on his way.” Jonah stepped out of the gig, passing the reins to the boy.

“Jonah Andrus, who is this young woman? Have you finally settled down?” Bess came closer, inspecting Bridgit in much the same manner as her husband had.

For the first time, Bridgit heard Mr. Andrus’s full name and she forgot about the curious woman.
Jonah
. She wanted to say it out loud, feel the name on her lips, but she knew they would question her strange behavior. Instead, she offered Bess a small smile.

With a burst of boldness, she blurted, “I’m Mr. Andrus’s convict woman. He’s hired me to watch after the baby.”

Bess looked between Bridgit and Mr. Andrus.

Had she given something away? He didn’t offer much of a reaction, just a slight inclination of his head. She should have waited for him to say something instead of coming out with it.

“Don’t just sit there, lass. Come down and we’ll go inside. We can have a cuppa before I start on feeding this mob. That is if Mr. Andrus doesn’t object.” The older woman’s eyes twinkled merrily.

He smiled at her. “I know you’re starved for female company, Bess. Be my guest.”

“Hmph. Anyone besides that dreadful Martha,” Bess muttered.

Bridgit climbed down, mindful of her ankle, and followed Bess, dodging a chicken as she went. Bess disappeared through the doorway.

“Bridgit.”

She faced Mr. Andrus. His arms folded over his broad chest, but he smiled. Her heart fluttered at the sight. With the frown gone, he looked magnificent.

“Leg feel better?”

“I think so. Only a bit sore.”

He nodded. “Good. Enjoy yourself then. Bess is a kind woman. When the notion strikes her.”

She pondered his statement. Turning away, she nearly tripped on the same chicken, pecking around her feet. Mr. Andrus’s smile stuck in her mind. How could she earn another?

5

Bridgit entered the house, feeling shy. The interior wasn’t much better than the ramshackle building where her mother had died. A rough wooden table with four chairs pushed around it took up the center of the room. Two shelves were bolted to the wall and stacked with tins and containers. Checkered curtains and rag rugs on the floor showed Bess’s attempt to make the cabin homey.

Bess poured water from a kettle into two tin mugs. “I can’t tell you how pleased I am that Jonah brought you. Have a seat. Been ages since I talked with another woman. Excluding me oldest daughter, Bitty, of course. She’s a good gel, almost old enough to marry. Reckon some jackaroo will catch her fancy soon.”

She barely paused for breath, bringing a loaf of dark bread to the table with a jar of preserves. Bridgit couldn’t find a break to tell Bess she didn’t need to fuss.

“Your accent says Irish, perhaps Dublin? Been ages since I was there. I wasn’t much older than you look when I was sentenced for turning tricks. Worked as a housemaid for seven years after they shipped me here. I met Natty three years into it. He’d gotten involved in a fight with the wrong man and the bloke ended up dead. We still get a laugh because Natty’ll never get a pardon and I’ve been assigned as his employer for the remainder of his life.” Bess chuckled, as if it was a great joke. “The government allots forty acres to convicts. This is ours. The children were born here. Davy’s the oldest, then Bitty and Margie. There were others, but it’s wild country and those wee mites weren’t fit for it. Some can’t make it out here.”

Bridgit sensed the sorrow in Bess’s words. Her accident seemed to prove she’d not do well here either. Mr. Andrus insisted he wasn’t angry, but she felt clumsy all the same.

“Bridgit, you alright, love?”

“Aye,” she answered, forcing a smile. “You came here on a convict ship as well?”

Bess made a sour face. “Not a pleasant journey. I decided right away that me home was Australia the moment I stepped on shore. You couldn’t get me back on a bloody ship for any amount of money.”

Bridgit nodded. “Me neither.”

“Is Jonah treating you well?”

“We’ve been through quite an adventure already.” She explained about their nighttime visitor and the snake, watching as Bess’s expressions changed throughout the stories.

“He’s a good lad, our Jonah. I’ve no doubt he kept you close to protect you from that lout.”

“He’s quiet. We haven’t discussed much more than rules. I’m a bit out of sorts here.” Bridgit traced a gouge on the table as she poured out her worries.

Bess waved her hand dismissively. “You needn’t worry about that. Jonah will warm up given time. The poor lamb. He’s torn up about his sister.”

Bridgit’s gaze met Bess’s face. “His sister?”

“Yes, Charlotte. Her little girl was born out of wedlock and Charlotte died not three days later. There was nothing anyone could do for her. I tried, the good Lord knows, but women die all the time after childbirth.” Tears appeared in Bess’s eyes and she wiped them away. “Charlotte was as good as they come, never caused trouble for anybody. It was a real shock when she said she was in the family way. Jonah’s worried everyone will find out. It’s not his own name he’s worried about, but what people will say about his sister. They were close. Running the station together, why you never saw a pair more determined to make a success of something.”

Mr. Andrus would probably be angry about Bess telling her these things, but she couldn’t deny she was curious about him and the baby. “You were there when his niece was born?”

Bess nodded. “She’s a beautiful thing. Looks a great deal like her mum. Of course, it’d be hard to say if she took after her da, because no one knows who he is. There’s a lot of suspicion at Laurie Lark, but the workers are sworn to secrecy. If Jonah knows, he won’t say the name aloud.”

It wasn’t easy losing a loved one. No wonder he was irritable; he’d been desperate to find someone capable of caring for his niece, and he got stuck with her.

Bess interrupted Bridgit’s thoughts. “Say, love, would you like to clean up before we tuck in? We’ve a rain barrel out back and the water stays quite warm this time of year. I could have Davy haul out the hip bath for you.”

“Could you?” The thought of water, soap and fresh clothing made the long journey bearable.

“It’s not a problem. I figure that’s why Jonah stopped by. He could’ve passed right on through without a word. He might not outright admit it, but he watches after his own.” She gave Bridgit a meaningful look.

Had he brought her here for her own sake? Surely not. Perhaps he’d tired of stale bread and cheese. Or sought better company.

Bess went out to give her son instructions.

Bridgit lingered over her tea, savoring the soothing liquid. Even if the house wasn’t grand and the company a little peculiar, she was comfortable here. Bess might have given her a cold shoulder. Perhaps her luck was turning.

* * * *

“Let me take a breather, Nat. I’ve worked up a thirst.” Sweat beaded Jonah’s forehead. Helping Natty haul split logs took his mind off the golden-haired convict prowling around his thoughts. They couldn’t keep it up all night, but maybe his sleeping mind wouldn’t think of Bridgit.

The family used water collected in a rain barrel beside the house, dipping it out for drinking or bathing when necessary. It was lukewarm, but wet enough to slake his thirst.

The sound of splashing water drew his attention. He peered around the house. Shafts of afternoon sunlight drenched Bridgit, causing water droplets to sparkle on her skin. She sat hip deep in a wooden tub. Her upper half was bare and soapy. Eyes closed, face pointed at the sky, a soft smile curved her lips. The strain fled from her face, taking the lines with it.

Water fell onto her shoulders from her hair, burnished by the washing. The full, round curve of her left breast drew his eyes. She hummed something fast and exciting that was vaguely familiar. One long leg stretched out of the tub. She leaned forward and scrubbed it with a cloth. Without warning his pants tightened. The dipper fell into the barrel.

“Dammit.”

She froze, turning his direction. He ducked behind the corner.

“Hello?”

He heard her call and his breath caught. Perhaps she’d think chickens caused the racket, or one of the women. He hadn’t meant to spy, but the sight transfixed him.

“Blast it all,” he muttered. He’d intended for her to clean up, but couldn’t it have waited until dark? Davy was old enough to be curious about women. Didn’t she realize anyone might spy on her out here?

“Jonah, you comin’ back?”

Natty’s voice made him jump. Bad enough he’d let her spend the night in his arms and he couldn’t get her legs out of his mind, now he’d seen too much of her naked skin. He plunged his arm after the dipper and replaced it on the nail.

“Just a second,” he answered. He needed a river as wide as the Parramatta and much colder to quell the images seared into his memory.

The brood settled around the table with a lot of noise and fuss. Jonah and Natty were among the last to the table. Bridgit’s absence stood out, sending a jolt of anger through him.

Bess smiled and shook her head. “Give her a few minutes, Jonah. She’s entitled to some privacy after being cooped up.”

“So help me, Bess, if she rabbits, I’m blaming you. She’s a convict, you know, and prone to thievery. Or didn’t she tell you?” He imagined her getting farther away. She might be frightened as she looked over her shoulder at every noise. He hoped she knew he would come for her. She wouldn’t stand a chance on her own, not with him knowing every inch of the land. If someone worse didn’t catch her first.

The table fell silent. Bess tilted her head. “Jonah Andrus, I’ll thank you to remember whose company you’re in. We shared a pleasant conversation and she’s nice. She’s got schooling, that one does, and breeding too, I’ll wager. She’s no ordinary prisoner. Not even an ordinary woman.”