It had been Agatha Burroughs’ idea that she and her brother should head northwestwards into the interior. Left to himself Caleb would never have left Sydney, would never have stirred off his backside, come to that, but Aggie Burroughs was not that way and could not have been if you’d paid her.
Aggie was eighteen years old, a year older than Caleb. She had warm brown hair and eyes, her cheeks were pink and her skin tanned from working in the sun. She was tall for a woman and had a level way of looking at the world and its problems as though eager to get on and sort them out. Sorting out problems was her speciality and the problem she was trying to solve when they left Sydney was what to do about herself and Caleb and their future. She had long given up any hope of Caleb lifting a hand to help himself, let alone her, but that was all right: it was in her nature to take charge.
Sydney was bad news: plenty of company of the wrong sort, plenty of prospects, all of them bad, no way she could see her way clear to lead her life the way she wanted to lead it. She met a man who told her about Fort Bourke.
‘Brand-new place,’ he said. ‘Right on the edge of the settled areas. Nothing beyond it but a million square miles of empty land. A man or woman can make what they like out of their life up there.’
He had warned her there would be hardships, living so far from the centres of civilisation, but Aggie was used to hardship.
‘Run a little store,’ Aggie told Caleb, ‘that’s what we’ll do. That land ain’t going to stay empty for long and when the settlers come we’ll be there to meet them. Why,’ she said, brown eyes shining, ‘we’ll make a fortune before we’re through.’
A fortune for its own sake didn’t interest her but earning it might give her just the challenge she wanted from life. It was what interested Caleb, though: make a fortune quick as they could, preferably with Aggie doing the work, head back to the bright lights, live it up in style. He could definitely relate to that.
They left Sydney early one bright June morning and rode northwest; themselves, a couple of horses and such money as they had in the world. They crossed the Hawkesbury, rode through the hills to the north, crossed the Liverpool Range and came out on the Namoi River to the west of Tamworth. It was dry country and Caleb was about as useless as he always was but Aggie refused to be downhearted. Up the Namoi to the Barwon, she told herself, follow that to the Darling, in no time at all they’d be at their destination.
‘We are riding into our future,’ she told her brother.
The way it turned out, they were riding into trouble.
It was empty country, now, or nearly so, vast distances between settlements. Even individual farms were far apart and they often rode for several days without seeing a living soul. It was during one of these empty stretches that trouble struck.
They had camped for the night by the river and Aggie had sent Caleb to collect some branches to make a fire. He turned over a pile of twigs and fallen bark and the snake struck him before he even knew it was there.
His yell brought Aggie running as it had all his life but this time there was little she could do. She tried—there wasn’t a problem on God’s earth that Aggie Burroughs wasn’t game to have a go at—but although she slashed Caleb’s leg above the twin puncture marks, although she tried to suck out the poison with the blood, although she bound the leg as tight as she dared to stop the venom from spreading, by nightfall Caleb was delirious and it was obvious that the poison was moving fast through his system.
‘Maybe by the morning he’ll be on the mend,’ Aggie said but by morning he was worse.
All they could do was ride on and hope to find help, although what help anyone could give them now was not clear. They rode for half a day, Caleb weakening steadily until he could barely cling to his saddle; then shortly after noon they came though a gap in the scrub and Aggie saw ahead of them the cabins and cleared paddocks of a small farm.
They were only just in time: Caleb had reached the end of his strength and Aggie saw the farm woman’s face lengthen as he half-climbed, half-fell out of the saddle at her feet.
Daisy Connor, fat, breathless, midforties, looked at Caleb, then at Aggie.
‘Let’s get him indoors,’ was all she said but her expression said everything her mouth did not.
There were things in life and death that even Aggie could not beat and early the next morning, as the first hint of light appeared along the eastern horizon, Caleb Burroughs died without uttering a word.
Aggie was saddened by his loss yet could not help feeling relieved that she was at last free from him and his complainings, his unfailing, petulant weakness.
‘I ain’t hurrying you along,’ Daisy said. ‘God knows you’re welcome to stay here as long as you like, but if you got any plans I suppose I need to know ’em.’
It was a fair question: Daisy had problems of her own. Daisy’s husband Rufe was sick too. He’d gashed himself with an axe two weeks earlier and the wound had festered.
‘Any good on a farm?’ Daisy asked her.
‘I never worked on one. My father was a fisherman before we moved to Sydney but I’m usually a fair hand at anything I set my mind to.’
‘If you are,’ Daisy said, dragging her bulk across to the chair by the window, ‘you’ll surely be welcome to stay here as long as you like. Rufe’s as sick as a dog and these blessed pipes of mine get no easier, that’s for sure.’
Rufe’s leg smelt bad, certainly, but it was not that as much as the rough edge of his tongue that wore Daisy out. He had always been a mean-tempered man and the accident had made him a hundred times worse. One more thing to put up with, she thought without letting the idea upset her too much.
‘There are things that need to be done if we’re going to get seed in the ground,’ Daisy said. ‘Ploughing and such. I’d be more than grateful if you could lend me a hand to do them.’
They had buried Caleb in the little plot at the back of the farmhouse. There were three other small graves there too. Three children born in fear, loneliness and pain. None had lived longer than a week.
‘There’s times I curse the day we ever came north to this cruel place,’ Daisy said grimly.
‘How long you been here?’
‘Twelve years.’ Daisy sighed. ‘Twelve years of hope, disappointment, slavery. The land chews you up, all your hopes and youth and life, and spits you out again in little pieces. All you have left at the end is bitterness. And one other thing: a determination never to admit defeat.’
Aggie took one of the draught horses and went to destump the nearer paddock. She thought that after twelve years the Connors might have got around to dealing with that sort of chore before this, but said nothing. If there was work to be done it gave her an excuse to stay on and for the moment she was happy to do that.
With the Liverpool Range behind them Matthew said to Charlton, ‘Maybe now we can pick up a little time.’
The air around them was full of dust and the bellowing of cattle as the mob threaded its way through the scrub.
Charlton stared at him. ‘You in some kind of hurry? Got an appointment at the other end?’
‘I want to get there before the weather turns too hot.’
Even now, in August, it was warm during the day although the nights were cold and the ground when they woke was often crisp with frost.
‘We’re makin’ good time,’ Charlton pointed out. ‘Nine, ten miles a day ain’t bad.’
‘I wouldn’t complain if we did better.’ Matthew looked at the empty countryside ahead of them. ‘Doesn’t seem much worth hanging around for in these parts.’
‘You’d be surprised,’ Charlton told him. ‘There’s a few farms further on.’
‘I didn’t think this country had been proclaimed yet.’
‘Will be, though. They’re like us: they want to get in first.’
Two hours later they came in sight of the farm. One advantage of this sort of country was that things couldn’t creep up on you: you saw everything ten miles away. From a distance it didn’t look much: a cabin or two with a cleared area around them and a couple of fenced paddocks. Set down alone in the middle of the vast and empty landscape, it looked even smaller than it was.
The sun was well down in the sky by the time Matthew and Charlton reached the perimeter of the cleared land. A couple of tame blacks watched them from the corner of a hut.
‘Someone’s been busy,’ Matthew said, looking at a pile of stumps that by the look of them had been dug out of the ground only recently, ‘but I don’t see anyone about.’
At that moment, as though to prove him wrong, a large woman appeared at the open door of the larger of the two buildings and waddled ponderously towards them. She was as broad as she was tall, a fat woman with a red, weathered face. She had obvious difficulty breathing; her weight must have affected her lungs.
‘I’m Daisy Connor,’ she said, breath whistling painfully in her throat. She smiled at the pair of them. ‘It’s good to see you. We don’t get many visitors.’
‘We’re on our way up-country,’ Matthew said. ‘We’ve got a mob of cattle back along the trail.’
‘I seen your dust for an hour or two already,’ Daisy told them. ‘Come on into the house. Rufe ain’t well but he’ll be eager to meet you, I’m sure.’
The cabin was small and smelt of sickness. If Rufe was eager to see strangers he hid it well. His close-set blue eyes watched them suspiciously. ‘I can smell cattle. You blokes got livestock with you?’
‘We got a herd of cattle back along the trail,’ Matthew told him.
‘Make sure you keep ’em well away from here. We got enough trouble without havin’ everything eaten up by a bunch of mangy cows.’
‘We don’t have to stop at all if you’d prefer,’ Matthew said.
The blue eyes flashed spitefully. ‘Don’ go puttin’ words in my mouth, mister. All I said was I don’t want your cows eatin’ up my pasture. That too much to ask?’
‘No need to talk like that,’ Daisy chided him from the open doorway, ‘I’m sure they’ll be careful.’
‘Keep an eye on ’em, that’s all I’m sayin’. Never had no reason to trust cattle men and I ain’t about to start now.’
‘You mustn’t take no heed of Rufe,’ Daisy told them when they were outside again. ‘He ain’t been himself since his accident. You’re welcome to stay here as long as you like.’ She laughed breathlessly. ‘We’re that lonely here I’d never forgive you if you didn’t give us the chance to find out what’s going on in the world.’
‘I doubt we know any more than you,’ Matthew said.
Daisy shook her head. ‘You know how long it’s been since we saw a strange face around here? Sydney could have burnt down and we wouldn’t know.’
‘What’s the matter with your husband’s leg?’ Charlton asked.
‘Took an axe to hack a root and hacked his leg instead.’
‘Perhaps I could look at it,’ Charlton said. ‘I’ve seen a few wounds in my time and I’ll tell you straight, that leg don’t smell right.’
‘I got to live with the stink of it every day,’ she said tartly, ‘you don’ have to tell me it don’ smell right. You can ask him,’ she told him, ‘but I don’t give much for your chances. You saw what he’s like.’
‘We’d best go and attend to our cattle,’ Matthew said. ‘You needn’t worry, we won’t let them on to your paddocks.’
‘There’ll be a meal waiting when you’re ready.’
It was two hours later and fully dark when Matthew returned. He came alone; Charlton had elected to stay with the herd.
‘You know me,’ he had said. ‘I ain’t one for polite society. I sit in that little room I’m scared I’ll break something.’
Lamplight shone yellow through the window of the cabin as Matthew approached. Daisy opened the door before he could knock.
‘Where’s your friend?’
‘He thought he’d best stay with the herd.’
Matthew bent his head to pass beneath the low lintel. He blinked in the sudden light, but not only because of the light. There was another woman in the room, as unlike Daisy in appearance as it was possible to be.
‘This is Aggie,’ Daisy told him. She turned to smile at the girl. ‘And this is—’
‘Matthew Curtis,’ he said.
‘I’ll dish up the supper,’ Daisy said, breath whistling.
Aggie turned. ‘I’ll give you a hand.’
Daisy shook her head. ‘You stay where you are and entertain our guest.’
Matthew was so busy studying Aggie he barely noticed Daisy leave the room. The sight of her warmed Matthew like a fire. She was tall for a woman and had a straightforward look that he liked. He liked everything he could see about her.
‘You’ll know me the next time you see me,’ she said, amused. Her voice was strong and deep.
He smiled. ‘Reckon I will.’
‘You’d be hard to miss, too.’ She looked up at him. ‘A man your size is a tight squeeze in this little room.’
‘I’ve got out of the habit of rooms,’ he admitted. He had got out of the habit of more things than rooms: he stared at her stupidly, unable to think of anything to say.
She helped him. ‘Where are you headed?’
‘To Fort Bourke and up the Warrego.’
‘My brother and I were going to Fort Bourke to open a store,’ Aggie told him, ‘only he died. That’s why I’m here.’
‘You planning to stay on?’
She shook her head. ‘Maybe I’ll go back to Sydney. I haven’t made up my mind.’
Daisy came back with a blackened pot clasped in her gloved hands. Matthew sniffed appreciatively.
‘Come and eat,’ she said.
‘What about your husband?’ Matthew asked.
‘He’s already eaten,’ Maggie said. ‘He don’t feel well enough to come to the table.’
‘You should get Charlton to look at that leg,’ Matthew told her.
‘I spoke to Rufe about that but he won’t hear a word of it.’
‘It’s none of my business,’ Matthew said, ‘but if that leg goes bad he could die.’
‘What will be will be,’ Daisy said. She slapped stew on to the plates and sat down. ‘Eat,’ she directed them.
When dinner was over Matthew thanked both women, walked back to the herd and went to look for Charlton.
‘You missed a good time,’ he said and told him his plan.
Charlton stared. ‘You can’t do that.’
‘Alone I can’t. But the two of us could.’
Charlton shook his head emphatically. ‘Ain’t none of our business.’
‘Answer me this,’ Matthew said, ‘will it help them or not?’
‘If it works of course it’ll help them. But—’
‘Then there’s no more to be said, Charlton.’ Matthew grinned, happy as always with the prospect of action. ‘We’ll do it first thing in the morning.’
Next day Charlton was still unhappy. ‘We could be sticking our heads into a heap of trouble,’ he said. ‘I wish you’d think some more about it.’
‘The only trouble I can see is if we do nothing,’ Matthew told him. ‘Let’s go and get it over with.’
They walked across to the cabin. A few chooks were pecking around the door and Daisy flapped her skirt at them as she came out to greet the two men.
‘Stupid things,’ she said. ‘Can’t abide them unless they’re on a plate.’
‘Is Rufe about?’ Matthew asked her.
‘If you mean is he awake the answer’s yes. But he won’t see you. Taken a dead set against the pair of you, I don’t know why.’
‘I don’t know why, either,’ Matthew told her. ‘We’ve done nothing to him. Anyway it’s no matter. What matters is his leg. Is it any better at all?’
‘Don’t smell like it,’ Daisy said. ‘And it seems to be paining him worse than it was.’
‘We’ll go and see him, in that case.’ He smiled down at the fat little woman. ‘With your permission.’
They walked into the inner room. Sunlight was gleaming through the chinks in the walls but a blind was drawn over the only window and the room was dark. Rufe lay on a tumbled bed. He looked bad and smelt worse.
‘What the hell do you think you’re doing walking in here like you own the place?’ he demanded, glaring up at them.
‘We come to do you a favour,’ Matthew told him. He threw back the dirty clothes and coughed as the stench of the bandaged leg hit him. ‘Not before time, either, by the smell of it.’
Rufe backed away across the bed and took a feeble swing at Matthew as he came closer. Matthew evaded the blow without difficulty and took the sick man by the shoulders, pinning him effortlessly to the bed. Rufe started to yell as though they were throttling him.
‘Be quiet or I’ll give you a good smack.’ Matthew looked at Charlton over his shoulder. ‘Get on with it. He keeps on like this he’ll deafen me.’
Still Charlton was reluctant. ‘What if it’s too late?’
‘Then at least we tried. Now, do it before I lose my patience with you too.’
Charlton took his knife and cut the bandage away. The leg was an ugly sight. The gash was badly swollen and inflamed around the edges, the flesh mottled purple and yellow beneath a thick crust of dried blood. Dark streaks showed through the skin, probing up towards the thigh. The stench was appalling.
‘How is it?’ Matthew asked as he held the struggling man.
‘Bad.’
‘Cut it.’
Rufe screamed. ‘Keep away from me, you damn butchers!’
‘By rights I should put the blade in the fire first—’
‘Cut it!’
Charlton set his teeth, seized the leg and brought his knife down on the wound.
‘Reckon we took a pint of pus out of that leg before we were through,’ Matthew told Daisy later as they sat in the parlour and sipped the tea she had pressed upon them. Behind the bedroom door all was quiet. ‘Charlton here missed his vocation. He should have been a surgeon.’
‘All that shouting, it was all I could do not to come in,’ Daisy said. ‘Then he was quiet later so I thought things must be all right. Either that or you’d killed him.’
‘I was tempted, believe me,’ Matthew said. ‘He was quiet because he passed out but if we hadn’t done it he would have died.’
‘He may still die,’ Charlton said. ‘The poison’s gone up his leg.’
‘I’m very grateful to the pair of you,’ Daisy said. ‘It was a brave thing to do for a complete stranger.’
Matthew shook his head, smiling wryly. ‘I’m not sure Rufe appreciated it.’ He stood, head almost touching the ceiling of the room. ‘Is Aggie about?’
‘That girl don’t like to sit around. She’ll be down the paddocks somewhere.’
‘I might take a stroll, in that case.’ He nodded to Daisy and walked out into the sunlight.
Aggie was down by the creek. The water lay in green, half-stagnant pools between stretches of sun-dried mud. She had been ploughing a cleared strip of ground. She stopped and wiped the sweat from her face as Matthew walked across to her.
‘Finished your talk with Rufe?’
‘If you could call it talk,’ he told her. ‘Rufe was doing most of it.’
‘I heard him. What were you doing?’
‘Doctoring his leg.’
‘I’m surprised he agreed.’
‘Let’s say we managed to persuade him.’
‘Will he live?’
‘At least now he’s got a chance. He had none before.’
Aggie moved and the sunlight ran in gold streaks through her brown hair. A light breeze fluttered her skirt against her legs. She said, ‘Rufe’s such a bad-tempered bloke I’m surprised you bothered.’
Matthew shrugged. ‘It’s a pity to let a man rot if you can avoid it.’
‘Do you normally do what you want in other people’s houses?’ Her voice was soft and she was smiling.
‘It was the right thing to do,’ Matthew said. ‘I reckon I’d do it again if I had to.’
The sweat had dried on her tanned face. The breeze lifted tendrils of her hair and blew them around her neck. She was tall and capable looking and beautiful. Matthew felt his breath tighten as their eyes met.
Aggie smiled at him and pushed her hair back off her face with the back of a dirt-stained hand. ‘Why are you going up the Warrego?’ she asked.
‘There’s empty land up there. Millions of square miles of it. I thought I’d take a piece.’
‘Caleb and I were headed that way. As far as Fort Bourke anyway.’
‘I was sorry to hear about your brother,’ Matthew said. ‘He wanted to go up there, did he?’
Aggie shook her head. ‘It was more my idea than his. He’d have been quite happy to stay in Sydney but there was this huge country out here and I thought it was a pity to waste it.’
‘Why Fort Bourke?’
‘Because I’d heard that was as far as anyone had gone.’ She smiled at him again. ‘And now I find you’re planning to go even further.’
Surprising himself, Matthew suggested, ‘You could come with us.’
She looked at him quizzically. ‘One woman alone with a bunch of cow-hands?’
The suggestion had come from nowhere but now Matthew felt mounting tension, wanting her to agree. ‘You wouldn’t be alone. We’ve already got one woman with us.’
Aggie raised an eyebrow. ‘Yes?’
‘Not what you’re thinking,’ he told her. ‘Nance is with one of our hands. She’s the cook. Pretty good at it too.’
‘And what am I supposed to do when you get wherever it is you’re going?’
‘That would be up to you. At least you’d have seen something of this huge country you’ve been talking about.’
‘There’s such a thing as seeing too much of it.’
She was tempted, he could see. ‘If Rufe comes good they’ll be able to manage like they’ve done all these years,’ he said. ‘If he dies I doubt Daisy will be able to hang on by herself anyway.’
‘Don’t underestimate her,’ Aggie told him. ‘Daisy’s the one as keeps them going.’
Matthew thought that if only he could find the right words he might indeed be able to talk her into coming with them. He looked at her warm hair and skin, her brown eyes, and was excited by the thought.
‘Would you come if Rufe wasn’t sick?’
‘There ain’t no point talking about it,’ she said. ‘He is sick and likely to stay that way.’
‘Maybe not, now we’ve opened up that leg.’
Four days later it was clear that Rufe wasn’t going to die after all, although he was not about to thank anyone for the fact.
‘Bloody marvellous,’ he grumbled. ‘Blokes come and attack you in your own house.’
Matthew had no patience with him. ‘Be thankful we did. You’d be in your box if we hadn’t.’
It was time to move on. Already he had delayed longer than he should. He told himself he had done it to give Rufe time to get well but it wasn’t true. He had stayed because he was still hoping to talk Aggie into coming with them. Even for her, there was a limit to how long he could wait. If she was determined to stay he could do nothing about it.
The evening before they were due to leave Daisy came waddling across to see him. ‘Want you to do something for me,’ she said.
‘What’s that?’
‘Take that girl with you.’
He looked at her. ‘She doesn’t want to come.’
Daisy looked at him in good-natured contempt. ‘You don’t know much about women if you think that. She’d go off with you like a shot if she hadn’t got this nonsense in her head about staying here to help us. As if we ain’t managed fine by ourselves for the past twelve years. I’m not saying she ain’t been a help, mind, but this is no place for a girl her age. She wants to get out and see a bit more of the world while she’s still young. She won’t see it here.’
‘I don’t know what she’ll see if she comes with us.’
‘Somewhere different, at least,’ Daisy said fiercely. ‘She don’t want to stay in the bush with two old fogies like us.’
‘Rufe won’t like it,’ Matthew pointed out.
‘I’ll worry about Rufe,’ Daisy said. ‘You speak to Aggie.’
Aggie was around the back of the cabin feeding the chooks. Matthew leant against the wall and studied her unobserved as she scattered grain for the clucking, scurrying birds.
Watching her he felt the heat he always felt about an attractive woman. More significantly, he also felt the warmth of a growing affection, something more than affection perhaps. It was five years since he had last felt anything like this combination of heat and warmth. After Janice’s death he had told himself he would never allow himself to care for another woman: the pain had been too great. After five years he had thought himself immune to feeling and was happy it was so. Now all his resolutions were tumbling down and he found he was happy about that too.
Aggie turned and saw him. Blood rose into her face. ‘You spying on me?’
He unpeeled himself from the wall and walked slowly towards her. ‘Got to take my chances while I can,’ he told her. ‘We’ll be gone by morning.’
Her foot scuffed a patch of rough grass. ‘I know.’
‘I want you to come along, too, Aggie.’
She shook her head. ‘I told you—’
‘I know what you told me. I could tell you a pack of lies about how you ought to see more of the world, pretend it was for your good that I was asking but I won’t do that.’
She smiled faintly. ‘You saying it wouldn’t be for my good?’
‘I’m not saying that. But you don’t want to stay here for the rest of your life and—’
‘You don’t know what I want.’
‘I know that much. It wouldn’t be sensible to bury yourself here forever and I’ve got you down as a sensible woman.’
‘My brother is buried here.’
‘I know that. I respect your feelings but, Aggie, staying here won’t make him any the less buried. Leaving won’t hurt him.’
‘It might hurt me,’ she said tartly, ‘but I suppose you hadn’t thought about that.’
‘I believe I have thought about it.’ He took her by her forearms and looked down at her. ‘Daisy and Rufe have got their own lives too.’
She flinched as though he had struck her. ‘Rufe’s not fit.’
Slowly Matthew shook his head. ‘You said it yourself, Daisy was handling the pair of them long before you came on the scene. It’s time you let her get back to her job.’
‘She needs me.’ Desperately.
‘No. You needed her after your brother died. Now it’s time to move on.’
Her eyes searched his face. ‘But I don’t know you.’
‘Funny, that. I feel I’ve known you all my life.’
She shook her head decisively and tried to pull her arms free from his grasp. ‘I couldn’t come with nothing to do. I’d go crazy.’
‘There’s always work on a cattle drive. We can find you some chores, if that’s what’s worrying you.’ He smiled, scenting victory, but did not release her. His head very close to hers he asked, ‘What do you reckon you can do?’
‘Anything a man can do.’ A flash of humour showed in her brown eyes. ‘Except for maybe one thing.’
‘What’s that?’
‘Mister,’ she said, ‘you don’t know the difference between a man and a woman by now, I reckon it’s time you did.’
‘I’ll make you what I believe is a fair offer,’ he told her. ‘Come with us as far as Fort Bourke. See how you like the country. You want to leave when we get there I won’t try and stop you. You’ll be able to get back to Sydney from there if you want. Or you can come on for the rest of the journey, if you want that.’
‘And if you want it,’ she said.
‘It takes two,’ he agreed. He opened his hands and let her go. ‘We’re leaving tomorrow at first light. You want to come with us, be ready.’
Aggie sat alone in the little shed where Daisy had put up a bed for her when she first arrived. In her mind she could see the scene out in the bush: the animals resting, the hands asleep about the dying fire, the dark shadows of the men on horseback, the empty bush stretching away silently to the invisible horizon. It was a world completely different from anything she had known before. One part of her wanted to accept the challenge; the other part warned it would be madness to do so. Matthew was part of it, of course, an important part. She was strongly attracted to him. He was strong, courageous, determined: all the qualities she most admired. She thought he was the finest man she had ever met. She wanted him, too. My God, she thought, how I want him. Whether that was a good reason to go off with him into the wilderness was another question. It was probably a good reason for not going.
It is too risky, she thought. I should wait until another party comes through, a married couple, perhaps, with children. I shall be safer that way.
The boys finished breakfast while it was still dark. The cattle, infected by the excitement of preparation, milled restlessly. After nine days of freedom Matthew could already taste the dust on his tongue and the sound of lowing bruised the darkness. He looked about him, frowning. A light burned inside the cabin but of Agatha Burroughs there was no sign.
Charlton came over to him. ‘Ready when you are.’
Charlton had noticed that Aggie had not appeared and was glad. He had a feeling that Matthew was likely to make a fool of himself over that girl. One woman, good cook though she was, was more than enough.
‘Five minutes,’ Matthew said. She is not coming, he thought, and was unprepared for the powerful disappointment he felt. He walked across the paddock to the cabin. Aggie or no Aggie, he could not leave without saying goodbye. An orange band of light widened along the eastern horizon while overhead the constellation of Orion pointed at the dawn. Behind the house a cockerel flew its voice at the moon. He knocked on the cabin door. Daisy opened it.
‘We’re off,’ he said. ‘I wanted to thank you for all your kindness.’
‘My kindness?’ She laughed a little, breath whistling. ‘You save my husband’s life and you talk about my kindness?’
‘There was a time there when I didn’t think he wanted his life saved.’
‘Rufe has always been a stubborn soul,’ Daisy agreed.
‘Not the only one around here.’
‘I don’t see why you think I’m stubborn.’
‘It’s not you. It’s—’
‘She’s ready now,’ Daisy said.
Matthew stopped speaking, mouth open like a fool. The door opened further. Aggie was wearing a heavy coat and had a wide-brimmed hat on her head.
He wanted to dance, to shout out loud. He said, ‘I thought you’d changed your mind.’
‘I changed it back again.’
She turned to Daisy. The two women embraced.
‘Take good care of her,’ Daisy ordered Matthew.
‘Do my best.’ To Aggie he said, ‘Where’s your horse?’
‘Around the back.’
They walked around the cabin together, feet crunching on the frost. He could barely credit that she was here, that she was actually coming with him. His feet felt light; he might have been walking a foot off the ground. The mare was already saddled. Aggie mounted and they made their way across the paddock.
‘Coming after all, then,’ Charlton said.
‘Yes.’ She recognised his disapproval but ignored it. He would soon get used to her.
Charlton trotted away to speak to the hands. A few minutes later the herd began to move.