Ard kicked at the dirt, his boot scuffing up the dust and bits of dried grass. ‘Doesn’t look so good now, but I might have caught it in time. Bit of water on it again, good as new.’
James looked out over the rows of fruit trees and pointed. ‘What trees are they?’
Ard looked across and with a wave of his hand said, ‘There’s apples and pears. Over this side is the citrus. Lemons, oranges and mandarins.’
‘Impressive.’
‘It has been.’
James turned. ‘You don’t sound as if your heart’s in it.’
Ard shrugged. ‘Drought’s coming again, and the Chinamen are strong in the market. My uncle has left and I don’t know he’ll be back.’
‘Your uncle?’
‘He and my father own this place. My uncle’s in Swan Hill and my parents are in Renmark. If the irrigation scheme fails there, my parents will be back.’ He looked around him, the fruit trees thirsty, the sky a relentless blue. ‘But to what? We have to think of something else. We’ve been offered a sum. It might be best to leave.’
James considered that. ‘Perhaps. What did you have in mind?’
‘I like the river. The Murray. The trade. The future’s there.’
James shook his head. ‘Not with the rail gone through now. Talk is trade is on the wane. Lots of boats are left where they moor, or founder. Men walking away.’
Ard nodded. ‘Trade on the river, yes. But if we irrigate, the land can grow anything. Fruit, vegetables. I even hear there’s talk of wheat being sown. Acres of it.’ Ard felt his spirits rise. Then sag again. ‘Don’t mistake me, I’ve loved it here, but there’s no future for a white man in fruit and vegetables in this area when the Chinamen do it so much better.’ He kicked the dirt again and bent down to scratch up a handful. He let the dry soil drop. ‘I’m waiting for my father’s answer to the offer. And my uncle’s.’
‘And what work is it you hope to get if you go to Renmark?’
Ard looked up. ‘Not Renmark, I’m not going there. I reckon the irrigation scheme there will fail, and that’s already the talk. The Chaffeys don’t know the land or the weather. The drought will kill it. You only have to check levels on the river in some places now.’ He looked past the orchard, into a place he couldn’t really see. ‘I came upstream not long ago, lucky to be on board a boat whose captain knows what he’s doing. I don’t want Renmark. I’m thinking I’d like Echuca. The place is crying out for produce. Only got one orchard there.’
James nodded and remained silent. He, too, scuffed the dirt at his feet. ‘Echuca. Big plans,’ he finally said.
‘If we sell here. Any which way, long term I don’t think I’ll stay.’ Ard’s gaze swept past the tired trees, the dried weeds at their bases, the new leaves of spring cracked and brown at the tips. ‘I do have to find Miss Linley. But first I’d like to set myself up and make something of it. Somewhere.’
James nodded again, and still looked at his feet. ‘She’s important to you.’
‘James, I’m grateful to you for pulling me out of that burning house. I was calling on Miss Linley for a reason but now she’s gone. You know where she’s gone.’
James looked at Ard. ‘I know they are safe. I just don’t know who they are safe from. I will get a message to Linley, if that helps you.’
Ard’s shoulders dropped again. ‘I will find her.’
‘Write her a letter for me to take.’
Ard shook his head. ‘’Tis too big for words on paper.’
James slapped a hand on Ard’s shoulder. ‘Then you must be eloquent. Write a good letter. Write a brave letter, tell her how you feel. Then show her.’
Show her.
Horse’s hooves sounded on the track and both men turned to see a rider bearing down on them and leading a spare horse.
‘Yon, Ard!’
Sam Taylor galloped down the home track, bellowing on the back of a roan. He was trying to keep abreast of Pie, who was saddle-less, stretching the reins in Sam’s hands, and with his eyes on the prize.
‘Whoa!’ Ard and James jumped out of the way as Sam reined in.
He slid from the saddle. ‘I was hoping to beat you back here. Beg pardon for intruding.’ He flashed a grin at James Anderson and flung out his hand. ‘Samuel Taylor. Not an esquire.’
James’ lips twitched. ‘James Anderson, same.’
Sam turned to Ard who had his hand on Pie, settling the horse with crooning words. ‘Heard you were a guest of the coppers.’
‘The quacks, with only a visit from the coppers.’
Sam shuffled from foot to foot. ‘Nothing to do with the grog then?’ He chanced a glance at James, who raised an eyebrow.
Ard shook his head. ‘Least of my worries. Went visiting Miss Linley and got myself in the way of an iron bar or something.’
‘Ballocks to that.’ Sam grabbed Ard by the shoulder and turned him this way and that. ‘But she didn’t do much of a job—you still look all right.’
James laughed aloud.
Ard snorted and threw off Sam’s hand. ‘A rotten headache, a few bruises, but not from Miss Linley. Mr Anderson here helped me out. Not before Miss Linley’s house was torched, though.’
Sam nodded. ‘I heard of the fire. What have you got yourself into, O’Rourke?’
‘Not me.’
Sam held his hands up. ‘Right. Well, naught to be said but that I’ve brought vittles and a—’ He looked at Anderson.
‘A drink?’ James supplied. ‘Good. We’ve only got channel water here, apparently.’
Sam’s guard dropped. ‘A drink. That’s it. Ard, me man, and Mr Anderson, let’s get out of the heat and flies and get into yonder hut so I can hear you tell the tale.’ He rummaged around in the bulging saddlebags and hauled out a couple of cumbersome parcels. He nodded towards the hut. ‘Good to meet you, Mr Anderson. After you.’
Inside, they sat on Ard’s upturned fruit boxes at Eleanor’s red gum table. The door remained open and the window boards were let swing as the breeze, if any, took them.
Sam glanced from Ard to James. ‘So, go on. Tell.’
Ard’s fingers drummed the table. ‘Coppers want a word with you, Sam.’
‘What?’
‘Verifying Ard’s activities night before last,’ James qualified.
‘We were here, all night. Drunk as monkeys. Or I was.’ Sam looked at Ard. ‘You didn’t sneak off anywhere, did you?’
Ard grunted. ‘Four mile from the town in the dead of night, on foot and no bloody moon. I don’t think so.’
‘Pie was outside. You coulda taken him.’
Ard threw his hands in the air. ‘You believe I went into town?’
‘No, no. You just wouldn’a been on foot if you did go.’
‘Jesus.’
‘Sam,’ James intervened, ‘if the police come for you about Ard’s whereabouts, you’ll vouch for him?’
‘’Course.’ Sam unwrapped a parcel on the upended boxes. ‘Ma’s pickled pork, some apricot jam and a slab of bread.’ He scratched his thatch of hair, shoved it back behind his ears and unwrapped the packet. ‘Board. Knife,’ he ordered, and Ard brought both from the hearth shelf. ‘You said you needed a horse and I said Pa would lend you Pie. Well, here he is.’
Ard blew out a breath and glanced at James, but addressed his friend. ‘Thanks. I’ll look after him.’
‘You will or you’ll die me da’s slave, heavin’ dung for a living.’ Sam turned his dark gaze to James. ‘And you, James, mate, what’s in this for you?’
James returned Ard’s glance. ‘A stout friend you have, Ard.’
‘Stout between the ears.’
James sat back on his seat and folded his arms. ‘I have ladies to look after. I have to protect their interests, which pan across the personal and the financial. And I must deliver a letter to one of them that Ard will write.’
Sam tore off a chunk of bread and carved a thick slice of pickled pork. He used the knife to cut through the wax seal on the pot of jam, dipping his finger to wipe a smear on the bread. ‘That so, Ard? You best tell me all.’
‘Tell you nothing, except that I’m thinking of leaving.’ Ard swiped the knife and dipped his own chunk of bread in the jam.
‘In that case, I’ll have to come with you.’ Sam smirked at James, saluted him with a chunk of bread and jam and shoved the lot into his mouth.
‘I do.’ Sam munched down in gulps. ‘Coppers did come around home last night.’
Ard gave a start. ‘And?’
‘Seems Griffin isn’t entirely sure of your story.’
Ard scowled. ‘I had nothing to do with the fire.’
Sam lifted his chin. ‘So you said.’
‘You’re a daft bugger.’ Ard stared at Sam.
‘I say we leave and let the copper work it out for himself.’ Sam licked the jam off his fingers.
‘Why would you want to leave? You had nothing to do with it.’
‘The adventure. We’ll join a mob of bushrangers. More money in that than the jobs we got.’ Sam shoved in another mouthful of bread and jam.
‘Ballocks,’ Ard said.
James laughed at that and Sam grinned.
Ard glanced at James. ‘My friend Sam here makes it sound as if he’s got nothing between his ears, and no money in his pockets. He works with his father, who builds houses, fences and the like. He also works with a local smithy. Sam’d just rather have the life of an adventurer. Or a no-hoper.’ He looked at Sam. ‘If I go anywhere, I’ll go to Echuca. It’s not far away, but a good place to start again.’
James dropped his chin and frowned.
Sam looked from one to the other. ‘Echuca. Heard it’s a nice place, lots of pubs. When do we leave?’
James wheeled the carriage around and headed down Ard’s track to the gate. He pulled onto the road and drove back to Bendigo. He’d be back well before dusk.
So, Ard thought he’d go to Echuca. No mention he knew Linley was there. No mention of a baby either. Perhaps he didn’t know Linley had a baby with her.
He wondered what Ard was so keen on seeing Linley about. Sam had turned up at the wrong time, though he certainly provided light relief.
And the Ard and Linley relationship bemused him. CeeCee had never mentioned there was any connection between Linley and a young man, so he was caught unawares.
He’d telegram CeeCee but leave telling her about the fire until he arrived.
Right now, he needed to attend to the second thing on his list before he did anything else.