Chapter Nine

Rufe helped to unload the building materials from the bullock drays, ensuring they were all stacked neatly alongside the prepared building site. The last thing to come off was a large safe. It took four men, grunting and groaning, to lift it down. When the drays were empty, he looked around at the sea of tents and makeshift humpies nearby that clustered along the riverbanks and beyond, and wiped his hands on a rag, glad to be finished by midafternoon.

“It’s a pity someone hasn’t set up a mill nearby, closer to these diggings,” he observed. “So much timber’s being cut hereabouts, but we still have to spend weeks carting it from the closest mill.”

“Yeah, they send it down river and we ’ave to cart it all the way back.” A grin spread over the teamster’s weather beaten face. A small, reedy man who wore baggy trousers, flannel shirt, a dun-colored waistcoat, and a battered felt hat. “Still, it’s good for my business.” He reached into his waistcoat pocket and took out a small, black pipe and a wad of tobacco, and filled the bowl, tamping the tobacco well down, before lighting it, and clamping it between his teeth.

He puffed out a cloud of evil smelling black smoke. “Well, reckon we’ll mosey along now, Rufe. You’ll let me know when your next load o’ supplies is ready, I s’pose, so I’ll see ya next time.” He cracked his long whip over the bullocks’ backs as Rufe waved him goodbye. “Move along, ya bloody gutless wonders,” he bellowed, cracking the whip again. “Too bloody lazy to get out o’ yer own way, you lot. Get going’ or ya’ll end up as mincemeat. I ain’t feedin’ ya fer bloody nuthin’.” Yelling obscenities and continuously cracking his whip, he managed to coax his team to a plodding start.

Rufe turned to a large, sandy-haired man in his mid-thirties, who was busy checking off items against entries in a book. “Well, looks like everything’s here, Harry; all ready to start building.”

“Yes, the men are starting in the morning. We should have everything ready and secure by the time the stock arrives next week.”

Rufe looked around at the sprawling mining encampment with satisfaction. “It’s a good field, this one, with more claims being pegged every day. All indications are that there’s enough gold to last for years. The store should do well.”

“More miners are arriving every day, and they all want equipment and tucker. It can’t go wrong. And most of them’ll be pleased to take advantage of being able to sell their gold here, without the worry of getting it down to Sydney themselves.” Harry nodded. “Yes, we’ll do well, no doubt about that.”

“I couldn’t have a better man than you to manage it, Harry. Now, I’m going to the inn to book a bed for a couple of nights. Are you sure you don’t want to stay there until this is ready?” He nodded toward the building site. “You’d be more comfortable than in your tent.”

“No, I want to be here where I can keep an eye on things. I don’t want anyone helping themselves to any of this stuff overnight.”

“All right then. I’ll see you later.” Rufe picked up his bag and walked over to where his horse stood tethered to a nearby tree. “Come on, Banjo, old boy,” he said, patting the horse’s neck before untying him. “We’ll get you settled first.”

Leading Banjo by the bridle, he headed down the rough dirt track. A few minutes’ walk brought him to the inn. It was a solid looking bark slab building, roofed with corrugated iron, with a heavy timber front door. He was surprised to see lace curtains showing in the glass windows each side of the door. It had to mean a woman’s touch.

A youth came around the corner as he stopped outside. “G’day, mate, you comin’ to stay?” he asked.

“Yes, I am. You work here, do you?”

“Sure thing. I’ll see to your horse for you, if you like. We got good stables here.”

“What’s your name?”

“Tommy.”

“Okay, Tommy.” He reached into his pocket, took out a coin, and flicked it to the lad, who caught it, looked at it and grinned. “I want Banjo looked after well. You make sure he’s rubbed down properly and has a good feed of oats. I’ll be out later to see that you’ve done it properly.”

“No worries. I’ll treat ’im as if ’e’s me own.”

“Good lad.”

“And what’s your name?”

“Rufe.”

“I can see you an’ me an’ Banjo’s goin’ to get on real well, Rufe” He took the bridle. “Come on, Banjo, let’s go see your new ’ome.”

Rufe pushed open the door and stepped into a large room.

Placing his bag on the floor, he looked around. A long bar ran down one side and tables and chairs down the other. Two men stood at the bar, glasses in their hands, talking, but otherwise the place was deserted. The miners would still all be working their claims; most would not knock off until dark.

As he stood there, a woman came through a door at the back. She wore a blue gown that matched the color of her eyes, inset with a bib front of fine white lace reaching modestly to the base of her throat, where it was finished with a thin velvet ribbon. Her features were even and her dark hair swept up and caught at the back of her head to fall in clusters of curls over the nape of her neck. Her feet were shod in slim leather boots, and an amber necklace and earrings completed her dress.

Definitely not the sort of woman Rufe expected to find on a gold field. After standing for a few seconds appraising him, she came forward with her hand outstretched. He noticed she wore no rings, a further surprise.

“Good afternoon. I’m Irene Donovan, the innkeeper. What can I do for you?” she asked in a bright, pleasant voice.

Rufe took the outstretched hand. She had a light but firm handshake. “Rufe Cavanagh,” he replied, as he released her hand, “and I need a room for two nights, if you have one available.”

She nodded. “Certainly. Just for yourself, is it?”

“Yes. And Tommy’s already taking care of my horse for me.”

“He’s a reliable lad; he’ll take good care of your Horse. If you follow me, I’ll show you to your room.” Turning, she walked back to the door she had come through.

Rufe picked up his bag and followed her down a long hallway. Halfway down the hall she stopped, opened a door, and stood aside for him to enter. “This is a quiet room; I hope it’ll suit you.”

Rufe took in the plain furnishings, brightened up with a cotton quilt on the bed and curtains at the window. It was spotlessly clean. He turned with a smile. “This will do very nicely, thank you.”

“I hope you’ll find it comfortable, Mr. Cavanagh. Will you want dinner tonight?”

“Yes. And please call me Rufe. You’ll be seeing me from time to time. I’m about to open a store here.”

A wide smile showed her white teeth. “Ah. So it’s you who’s been the cause of so much speculation recently. In that case, you must call me Irene.”

Rufe raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize I was causing interest. I haven’t been trying to keep it a secret.”

“There’s been all sorts of conjecture as to what’s happening with the land that’s been cleared. How wonderful that it’s to be a store. I hope you’ll be able to supply me with some of the goods I now have to bring in from outside.”

“I plan on stocking a wide range of supplies, and if there’s anything extra you want, just let my manager know and he’ll order it in for you.”

“So you won’t be managing it yourself?”

“No, Harry Jones is my manager. You’ll find him excellent to deal with, I’m sure. He’s managed other stores for me and he always offers good service.”

“But you’ll be calling here from time to time, you said?”

“Yes. I like to keep an eye on things, and I have other interests in this part of the world.”

“Then perhaps you’d care to have dinner with me tonight, as my guest. I have a Chinese cook, Ah Lee, who usually manages to find me something a little different to what he cooks for the main dining tables.”

“Thank you, I’d be delighted.”

“Not that it’s not good food in there,” she added, “but it’s not easy to make meals special, when you’re serving so many, especially when fresh food is hard to come by.”

“Of course not.” He smiled down at her, wondering what an attractive woman like this was doing in such a place. “I hope we’ll be able to make it easier for you as far as supplies are concerned.”

“I hope so, too. I look forward to us doing business together.”

“So do I, and I look forward to dining tonight.”

“Good.” A touch of pink tinged her cheeks and she turned away. “I’ll go and tell Ah Lee I have company for dinner tonight.”

****

The dinner was good. Ah Lee was an excellent cook, and Rufe brought a bottle of good wine from his stores to go with the food. Irene thanked him, but assured him that she had some wine that she felt was equal to the dinner, and that she would appreciate his opinion of it. In the end they drank both bottles, and it was late when he stood up to go to his own room.

As Rufe left, she smiled up at him. “I am sorry you won’t be staying. There’s not much congenial company around here.”

He returned her smile. “Thank you for a pleasant evening. I’ll see you tomorrow, I’m sure. Good night.”