The distant clanging of the Ironbark Chapel bell sounded to Jake Andersen as ominous as if it heralded Doomsday.
Lying on a stretcher bed on the back veranda of Bran’s forge house, he cursed the bell for fracturing his sleep, then remembered he must now learn to harness his language – Pearl was asleep in the alcove room only a few feet away.
But the truth was Jake was mortified. The Doc had strapped bandages around his chest. Although he had fought the toughest blokes in the colony with all his bones intact, that crazy Romani woman had managed to give him a cracked rib. He’d lied to Leslie Ross that his opponent had been a bullocky. There were some things a bloke couldn’t admit even to his best mates.
At the thought of Keziah he felt morose. Was their fight her fault – or his? For years he had built a shield of mateship between them to protect himself from falling for her. When he finally found the courage to get her into bed it had been the greatest night in his entire life. Keziah was sheer magic. So how had the whole thing ended up cockeyed? One bloody careless word from him had sent her raving mad. As he slapped at the blowflies that were drawn to his liniment-soaked bandages, he tried to piece together exactly what he had said and what she had said. None of it made sense.
He accepted he had unwittingly damaged Keziah’s pride and insulted the entire race of Romani women, but she’d ranted so wildly, he’d had no chance to unveil his big plans for them.
At the sound of Pearl’s little feet padding across to the cookhouse Jake’s anger was tempered by resignation. The fight was my fault. I wasn’t cut out to handle good women. And only God would know what goes on inside a Romani woman’s head – if there is a god.
Today was the day the vardo would be finished. As Jake drank the tea Pearl had made him, she watched him like an anxious little mother hen. He made all the right noises of approval.
‘Best tea I’ve ever tasted in my entire life, Princess.’
When Pearl raced off unasked to make him a second pot, Jake again felt morose. Inwardly he decided that a door in his life had been slammed shut forever. That crazy Romani girl had done the unthinkable – left her brand on him. Jake had spent every penny of his prize money on his plan to share his life with her and their kids. Now that pipedream was totally destroyed. I’m stuck with that bloody Romani wagon.
He saw that Bran was restless to hear Jake’s verdict on his work. Pearl pulled him outside to inspect it and Jake gave a long whistle of admiration. The vardo was a thing of beauty – the green and gold paintwork shone in the sun. Although the travelling house had not been occupied, it already seemed to have a life of its own – eager to taste the open road. Jake clapped Bran on the back.
‘Bran, you’re a ruddy genius. To think you built all this from a magazine picture!’
Jake held little Pearl by the hand as she skipped around the wagon, giggling with excitement. Bran basked in pleasure at their praise, but Jake saw that something was bothering him. It took time to piece the story together. Bran had overheard Griggs, Hobson’s overseer, boasting that Mrs Browne was clearing out of Ironbark. She’d left Big Bruce in charge of the schoolhouse and was packed up ready to go.
‘Right, so she’s bolting again, is she?’
Pearl looked so anxious that Jake made an effort to control his anger. He let down the back steps of the vardo and ceremoniously helped his daughter to enter inside. ‘You can be my first passenger, girlie.’
Pearl frowned at the edge in his voice when he added, ‘We’ve got business that can’t wait.’
• • •
Keziah nailed the lid on the final packing case and sank down on top of it, close to tears. The schoolteacher’s cottage was empty except for her packed boxes and valise. This was the dreaded moment when she must leave behind the secure life she had lived as Saranna. She was shaken by the pain of her memories.
Stripped of its bedding, her iron bedstead was a skeletal frame. The bed where she had slept alone and dreamt her dreams. The bed where Gem had returned to stay the night with her but deserted her forever. Where she had cradled Daniel on their wedding night, bleeding from his ‘stripes’ inflicted by the Devil Himself. Above all it was the bed where she and Jake had begun the magical night of love they had played out under the stars.
She felt consumed with shame for dishonouring her promise to him. If Jake came looking for her he would find another empty house, betrayed by another woman. Was she no better than Jenny Andersen? Or Stella the Whore? They were mere gaujos. She was a Romani woman. It was despicable to betray her Rom – even a man who was hers for only a single night.
Suddenly aware that Gabriel was waving his hands in front of her eyes to attract her attention, she patted his head. ‘I’m here, Gabriel.’
She dressed for travelling in her most sedate schoolteacher’s costume and buttoned her blouse to her chin. Pulling her hair into a chignon, she covered it with the new style of bonnet made fashionable by the young Queen Victoria. Shaped like a coal scuttle tied with ribbons under the chin, it hid her hair except for the flat curls on her forehead. No visual trace remained of her true identity, except for her legacy from Stella the Whore – her eyes.
The sound of the brumby’s whinny sent her racing to the door, surprised to discover it heralded Jake’s arrival on foot.
‘Where’s Horatio?’ she asked.
Jake ignored her. His shirt was open and she blushed to see the evidence of her attack. He swaggered up the steps as arrogantly as his bandaged chest would allow.
Propped against the veranda railing he unfolded his pouch and began to shred tobacco as if he had all the time in the world. Finally he cast a steely glance her way.
‘That’s a bloody silly bonnet. Makes you look like a maiden aunt.’
‘I dress to please myself.’
His eyes issued a challenge. ‘Bran told me you’re bolting. Want a lift somewhere?’
‘Thank you, no. I’ve made all my own arrangements.’ ‘You’re off to Melbourne Town to join Caleb Morgan, eh?’ ‘My plans are my business.’
Jake jerked his head in the direction of Nerida’s goondie. ‘Yeah? What about Nerida and Murphy? Just going to dump them, are you?’
Keziah felt defensive. ‘I’ve left Nerida money. I’ll send for them when I get to wherever I end up.’
‘Never crossed your mind Nerida might want a life of her own?’
‘What do you mean? She’s been happy with me.’
‘Yeah? I ran into Sunny Ah Wei. First time I ever saw the bloke look miserable. He wants to do right by Nerida. Get her churched. Take her to Maitland to open a store.’
‘I thought Nerida didn’t want him!’
‘Well, now you know. She does but Nerida’s too bloody loyal to leave you. Thinks you can’t take care of yourself properly. She’s dead right.’ He turned. ‘Ain’t you, Neri?’
Nerida stood waiting with Murphy to say goodbye. When Keziah ran to her, their tears were flowing as they embraced.
‘Nerida, you’re the friend of my life! Choose your own happiness. Sunny’s a good man. Go with him if you want him. I know in my heart we’ll never lose touch with each other.’
‘Sunny not Wiradjuri.’ Nerida looked in the direction of her tribal country. ‘But he promise he bring me back my country plenty time.’
Keziah knew there were layers of anguish inside Nerida that no one but her own people could share.
Nerida stroked Keziah’s nose in the gentle way Aboriginal mothers aroused their children from sleep. ‘Now you wake up good, Saranna. See best fella for you!’
In perfect imitation of Jake, Nerida mimicked his cocksure grin as she swaggered a few steps like a Currency Lad, then grinned at Jake over her shoulder as she walked away. Clearly Jake had won Nerida’s vote. Keziah saw Jake had no intention of letting her off the hook.
‘So you were going to shoot through and leave me to find the place empty. That’s what a Romani promise is worth, is it?’
‘I was trying to decide if I was brave enough to say goodbye to you.’
‘And?’ Jake’s eyes locked with hers sending the clear message. You’ll break before I will, girl.
Keziah finally cracked. ‘I knew once I saw you I’d never want to leave you.’
She held her breath. Would Jake back down? Or was he like Gem, too proud to forgive her?
• • •
Jake concentrated on rubbing the tobacco he had no intention of smoking. Poor little bugger’s dying of shame. But she’s got me between a rock and a hard place. If she takes two steps towards me I’ll drag her into the bush and rip those starchy clothes off her. If I do, I’ll lose her forever. How the hell do I give her back her bloody Romani pride?
Keziah did take two steps towards him.
‘Hold it right there, lady!’ Jake said amiably. ‘You landed a couple of lucky punches last bout we fought. Don’t push your luck! I’ve never hit a woman in my life, it’s beneath my dignity as a man, but I ain’t no gentleman. If you hit me below the belt again,’ he added the words like a caress, ‘I’ll flatten you, love.’
Keziah said stiffly, ‘I owe you an apology.’ She blushed and looked away.
‘That’s it, is it?’
The words he needed went totally against the grain, but he had to say them or lose her.
‘Don’t expect me to apologise for what I said about men. I’m a man myself. You can’t trust any of us buggers. I’ll do my damnedest to protect you from other blokes. But …’ He let the word hang in the air. ‘I’d trust you, Kez, with my life.’
Keziah was crying all over his shirt as her shame was washed away with the salt of her tears.
‘The truth is, Jake, I’m not always as wise as I want to be but I’m not as weak as you’re afraid I am. And I’m yours if you want me.’
Jake took his time to digest that invitation. He allowed her body to press against his but kept his grip on the veranda posts, his knuckles white with the effort not to touch her.
‘How about this for a deal?’ he offered. ‘I don’t expect you to forget Gem. He’s part of you – always will be. Understand this. I refuse to share you. Throw in your lot with me and every day you can be your own woman. Teach school, train horses, do your herbal magic. Any bloody thing you want, but every night when the first stars come out in the sky – then you’re my woman.’ He added gently, ‘And I’m warning you. I’m very demanding.’
‘YES!’ Keziah sent her bonnet sailing through the air and her wild hair tumbled down. But right at the moment Jake reached out to claim her, Gabriel appeared in the doorway with the plaintive cry that he was hungry.
Jake muttered under his breath. ‘So am I, mate, so am I.’
Keziah gave Gabriel bread and cheese and offered to feed Jake. He knew that even when packed ready to bolt she would manage to put a fine meal together. He declined. He had just released an uncomfortable degree of emotion, and there was one remaining thing he had planned for days. He took a red ribbon from his pocket.
‘Do you know what this ribbon means, Gabe? Your mama told me it’s a Romani custom. When a baby boy is born his father ties a red ribbon round his son’s neck. To show the world he’s proud his son belongs to him.’
Jake lifted Gabriel’s chin and tied the red ribbon. ‘So this means I’m now your father. Always. And you’re my little Rom.’
Gabriel was wide-eyed. ‘Do I wear it all the time?’
He hid a smile. ‘No, mate. Just till the sun goes down tonight.’
Jake didn’t dare look at Keziah, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the tears streaming down her face. He carried Gabriel in his arms and strode down the track to the place where he had stowed the vardo. He turned to gauge Keziah’s reaction – his reward.
Keziah’s cry was so passionate the horses became restless. The green and gold vardo was a work of art. A tiny metal chimney peeped through the bow-topped green roof. Two diamond-paned windows framed the rear door. She recognised Daniel’s artwork. At the heart of the gilt scrollwork was a rampant wild horse. The brumby.
With a flourish Jake unfolded the steps between the back wheels. Gabriel clambered inside and closed the door but they could hear his jubilant cries of discovery.
Keziah cried as though her heart would break. Jake looked helpless as he held her.
‘Jesus wept, woman. Does this mean you like it?’
‘It’s the most beautiful vardo in the world. If you let me share it with you, Jake Andersen, I swear By My Father’s Hand I’ll never ever leave you!’
Jake studied her for a long moment. ‘Not even if I beg you to go?’ The sound of two sets of giggles inside the vardo startled Keziah. ‘Who else is in there?’
Jake kept a straight face. ‘I guess that’d be my daughter, Pearl.’
‘Why didn’t you introduce me?’
‘Didn’t think I had to. You’re psychic, ain’t you?’ he teased.
Jake watched Keziah climb into the vardo and kneel down to bring her eyes level with Pearl’s face. ‘I’m so happy your papa found you, Pearl.’
When Pearl shrank back with a suspicious expression Keziah covered the rejection by extending a hand to each child. ‘Come and help your papa. As soon as we load the wagon we’re all going off to share a great adventure!’
• • •
The sun shone and the breeze fanned their faces as they travelled along a meandering back track that Jake assured them was less likely to attract bushrangers than the open road. Keziah sat on the front seat with the two children sandwiched between her and Jake. Horatio clopped along as though he’d been born to draw a Romani vardo. The brumby, Sarishan and Pony followed behind them.
Pieces of Keziah’s life flashed before her eyes with the speed of Tarot cards dealt out by some magical sleight of hand.
Why was I so blind? Gem was my Rom but he could never forgive me. Daniel loved me like a sister. Caleb wanted to pass me off as a fine lady in society – if I forfeited my soul. Jake’s a gaujo who believes in nothing. Yet he above all men respects ‘my weird Romani laws’. Now he’s built this vardo to give me back my lost Romani life!
When she caught Jake’s eye she stroked the timber of the vardo as lovingly as if she was caressing his body.
Jake said nothing. Just gave her a funny look, half proud, half embarrassed.
She was conscious of how nervous Pearl was of her and sensed it would be difficult to win the little girl’s trust. Jenny’s desertion had left deep scars on her psyche, just as it had on Jake.
In the wilds of the bush Jake drew to a halt. Ahead of them at a lonely crossroads was a handmade signpost.
Keziah tried to read Jake’s odd expression as he stared at the scene. The setting sun highlighted a rusty gate that opened onto an abandoned farm. No fence, just a metal gate between rickety posts. A derelict timber cabin leaned drunkenly against a magnificent red gum. The rays of the sun washed the grey trunk like a topcoat worn over dappled shades of pink, red and brown.
Jake seemed to be searching for the right words. Keziah came to his rescue.
‘Your land, is it?’
‘Yeah. Won it from a bloke in a poker game. One hundred and thirty acres. Of course you won’t catch me farming it. No land will ever tie me down like it did Pa.’
‘No, of course not.’
‘But it’s not a bad bit of dirt.’
Keziah knew that this was the offhand Currency way to say the soil was very fertile.
‘Horses,’ she said. ‘I see magnificent thoroughbreds everywhere.’
There wasn’t a single horse in sight apart from the four that travelled with them. Despite Sarishan’s clandestine lineage, Jake couldn’t openly lay claim to his thoroughbred descent.
‘I’ll be buggered. Only last week I ordered a couple of Ogden’s fillies for breeding next season – you couldn’t have known!’
‘Gem placed Sarishan in your care. Same bloodline as Ogden’s champion. I always knew you’d breed thoroughbreds one day. You have the gift.’
Jake looked pleased. He pointed to the sliver of creek running through the heart of his land.
‘That’s a good spot to stop for the night and feed the kids. I’m taking you on a bit of an adventure beyond Argyle county. Then maybe we’ll come back here and breed horses.’
Keziah smiled at the sound of the children arranging which bunks they’d sleep in. ‘That’s two. Five more children to come. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.’
Jake’s voice was husky. ‘The first stars are out. After you’ve done that motherly stuff and tucked them up in bed, I’m giving you fair warning – better not pretend you’re too tired.’
‘Never!’ she said as she rested her head on his shoulder, her hand high on his thigh.
Keziah needed to cling to the belief that Shon would always be there for her in the phases of the moon that waxed and waned in Jake’s sky. She suspected baxt had something in store that was so extraordinary it made her shiver. Jake asked her if she was cold.
‘No, a goose just walked over my grave.’
Jake wasn’t fooled for a minute. ‘The last time you said that I drove my coach over Blackman’s Leap. You think you know what’s going to happen? And you’re not afraid?’
‘I’ll take whatever comes.’
Jake ruffled her hair. ‘I’m not sorry you’re tagging along.’ It was the best he could do. It was enough. He looked across at the rough signpost standing at the junction of the tracks. He had made it himself when a royal flush had won him the property.
‘That marks the miles to Melbourne Town, Berrima, Gunning, Goulburn and Sydney Town. Some wag added “London twelve thousand miles as the crow flies. New York – God only knows.”’ Jake offered a challenge. ‘If you’re so bloody clever, which road am I going to take tomorrow?’
‘I can’t see everything.’
Jake’s mouth wasn’t smiling but his eyes were. ‘For all you know I might be taking you to the Swan River Colony or Timbuktu. Aren’t you curious?’
Keziah looked into eyes that held the love Jake refused to put into words.
‘No, my Rom. If you are going there then that’s the right road.’