Christmas had come and gone, and the full heat of summer scorched the range. A frowning Elizabeth watched Belle and Luke canter their horses down the hill towards the house. Lately, whenever she searched for her daughter, she could be found by Luke’s side. Elizabeth considered herself modern enough, but she knew it was courting trouble to allow the pair to spend so much time alone together. When Belle visited Edward at his estate she was always properly chaperoned. It was true the pair often slipped off by themselves, but at least there was the semblance of propriety. It annoyed Elizabeth that Luke and Belle behaved as if they were still children, taking off whenever they pleased.
Her own mother had always enforced strict rules of conduct for girls. ‘An unmarried woman under thirty should never be alone in the company of a man. If a suitable companion cannot be arranged then she should remain in the home or, at the very least, confine herself to the garden.’
How outraged Mother would have been by the behaviour of her unconventional granddaughter. More outraged with Elizabeth, perhaps, for allowing the situation to arise in the first place. For the first time she wondered if her mother’s way was right. She ran her hand across her eyes and moved from the window to the next one. The truth was that neither she nor Daniel had much control of their headstrong child. And the situation was growing worse, keeping Elizabeth awake at night. She wished things could go back to the way they were before Luke arrived.
The horses drew up at the gate. Luke sprang from his saddle, took a firm, familiar grip on Belle’s waist, and lifted the laughing girl to the ground. Elizabeth decided there and then to take her daughter to Hobart for the rest of summer.
A group of unfamiliar riders came into view, heading for the homestead. She hurried to the verandah and called out a warning, but Luke had already spotted the horses and made himself scarce. Elizabeth ran inside to alert her husband. She found him reading in the library.
‘Riders, Daniel. Are the dogs away?’
Daniel closed his book. ‘I’ll check.’
Recently, Bear and Sasha had been restricted either to the house (much to their housekeeper’s dismay) or to the tigers’ pen. Although there’d been no more visits from angry farmers, it was clear the dogs would be shot if they roamed. The nearby hills were crawling with hunters keen to claim the demon dog bounty.
Elizabeth had hoped the attacks on sheep would stop now that Bear and the cubs no longer hunted at night, but the killings continued unabated. This didn’t surprise Daniel, who’d maintained all along that feral dogs and duffers were mainly to blame.
The riders drew to a halt at the front of the house and Elizabeth went to greet them. Allan Grant, the Mitchells’ foreman, dismounted and politely removed his hat. Strung across his saddle lay the body of a large black dog. For a moment her heart forgot to beat.
‘We’ve come to apologise, ma’am,’ began Grant. Daniel emerged from the side of the house and shot his wife a reassuring look. ‘Mr Campbell, sir, as I was just explaining to your lady wife, we’re here to apologise. I shot this brute earlier today along with two others. It’s not your dog, is it, sir?’
‘Indeed, no.’
‘That’s what I thought,’ said Grant. ‘This here’s our culprit.’ He gestured to the dog’s corpse. ‘I caught him pulling down a ewe, bold as brass. A ragged bunch of a dozen or more got away. Quite a few streaky brindle dogs among them. It got me thinking that folks’ imaginations have been playing tricks on them and that you, sir, were right all along. This big black bastard here’s been leading a motley pack of striped mongrels, not wolves. Apparently he’s a rogue fighting dog that gave his owner the slip a few months back, and I’ll collect a fine bounty for him. So it seems we owe you an apology, sir, on two counts. First for accusing your animal. And second, for not taking you serious when you said wild dogs was to blame.’
The other riders muttered their assent as Grant mounted his horse. ‘You must think us a mob of bloody fools to believe something as daft as dogs and wolves teaming up. Especially since you say there ain’t no wolves left in these parts anyways.’
There was silence, apart from the jangling bits of the restless horses. The apology had left Daniel speechless.
‘Why, thank you, Mr Grant,’ said Elizabeth. ‘Your apology is accepted. My husband and I are grateful that you’ve resolved this unfortunate business’
‘Of course,’ said Daniel, taking her cue. ‘Good day to you.’
With a nod the riders departed.
Elizabeth and Daniel stared at each other, astonished. For once a misunderstanding was working in their favour. Mrs Scott came to tell them lunch was ready, and Elizabeth went to find Belle. The shooting of this other dog simplified things. With the bounty claimed and Bear and Sasha safe at Binburra it seemed a perfect time to raise the idea of going to Hobart with her daughter. Ada Mitchell was taking Grace, and the two girls always had fun together. There was a new play at the Theatre Royal, and a natural history exhibition at the museum, all the way from London. She hoped against hope that Belle would be pleased with the plan.