When the Storm Breaks Read online

  Rebecca’s thoughts went to Daniel. She did want to meet him. She knew he must be nearly done in. The trip from Brisbane to Thornton Creek was exhausting.

  “I’ll be back with yer husband in no time.” Lugging the saddle, Woodman walked toward a lean-to they’d been using for tack.

  Rebecca’s mind turned to the reason for Daniel’s trip to Brisbane. Had he managed to procure a loan? If not, what would they do? Anxiety coursed through her, and she brushed harder. She wasn’t sure which would be worse, getting a loan or not getting one. Her arm stopped its rhythmic sweeps, and she leaned on her mare, resting her forehead against Chavive’s side. She breathed in the aroma of horse. Lord, please see to it that whatever happens is what’s right for us.

  She straightened and returned to brushing.

  “You’ll scrub the hide right off her if you’re not careful,” Daniel said.

  Rebecca swung around. “Daniel? Daniel!”

  He scooped Rebecca into his arms and held her close.

  She hugged him hard. When he settled her on the ground,she rested her cheek against his chest. The feel of his cotton shirt and the sound of his beating heart comforted her. “Oh, it’s so good to have you home! But how? Woodman was just about to leave.”

  “The stage was ahead of schedule, and I got a ride with Jim. After he hauled some grain over to Cambria’s place, he stopped in town. I managed to catch him before he left.”

  Rebecca rested her hands on Daniel’s chest. “So how did your meeting with Mr. Marshal go?” She thought she saw a flicker of hesitation before Daniel smiled.

  “Good. Right good. I got the loan. And we’ll be able to set things right again.”

  “And Mr. Marshal, what did you think of him?”

  “He has a fine business there in Brisbane. Seems right prosperous—must be doing well.”

  “What kind of man is he?”

  Daniel’s eyes slid away from Rebecca’s. He removed his hat and combed back blond hair with his hand. “Good businessman, I’d say. He got down to it right off.”

  “And?”

  “And what? What else is there?” Daniel’s tone was sharp.

  “I just wondered how you felt about him . . . in general.”

  Daniel replaced his hat. “I’d say he’s shrewd. And that he can be tough when he needs to be. I don’t see that we’ll have any trouble though.”

  Still feeling a vague sense of unease, Rebecca returned to brushing Chavive. “She picks up a lot of dirt and dust when we’re out. The dust settles deep in her coat.” She stopped and, without looking at Daniel, asked, “Are you telling me everything?”

  “Of course.” Daniel’s attention went to Chavive. He combed her mane with his fingers. “When have I ever lied to you?”

  Her hand gripped the brush, and she moved it along Chavive’s back. “I’ve never known you to lie, but sometimes it’s easier to hold back something that needs to be said.”

  Daniel laid a hand on Rebecca’s back. “You don’t need to worry. Everything will be fine.”

  She turned to Daniel and searched his face. “I’m sure you’re right. You have experience in these kinds of dealings.”

  He kissed her. “It’s good to be home. I ordered supplies so we can finish the work ’round ’ere. I told the man it was urgent, so we can expect deliveries soon.” He smiled. “I’ve got a house to build. I’d better get to it.”

  Rebecca stepped close to Daniel and wrapped her arms around his waist. “It will be so wonderful to have a house again.” She looked up at him. “We’ve finished the cleanup. What can I do to help with building?”

  “You can take good care of yourself. You’ve a baby to look after.”

  “Being pregnant is not an ailment. I’m strong and healthy, and I want to help.”

  “Most of what’s to be done is man’s work, luv.”

  Rebecca stood with her hands on her hips. “You know me. I need to keep busy.”

  “Yes. I do know you.” He grinned. “You can be right stubborn. But I like that about you.”

  “So what shall I do?” Rebecca looked at him wide-eyed. “If you don’t give me a job, I’ll think of something on my own.”

  “Perhaps Mum could use more help with the paperwork. She’s getting on in years. You should ask her. And Lily and Callie have extra work—living outdoors isn’t easy. I’m sure you’ll find something.” He kissed the tip of Rebecca’s nose. “I’ve got work to do.”

  “But you’ve barely gotten home.” Rebecca pouted.

  “Now that we have the funds, I don’t want to wait. There’s still plenty of daylight left and a lot a man can do.” He smiled. “I’ll see you at supper.”

  “All right.” Rebecca folded her arms over her chest and watched him walk away. She did want to help with the house, but what could she do if Daniel wouldn’t give her any tasks? She blew out a breath. Sometimes life was just plain exasperating.

  With Chavive brushed, Rebecca removed the mare’s bridle and set her free in the paddock. She moved the gate into place, then watched Lily work at a makeshift table. Perhaps she could use help with dinner preparations. Rebecca rested her hand on her stomach. It still felt upset; food didn’t sound appealing.

  She strolled toward the servant. The wind whipped up dust and settled it on a cloth draped over rising dough. “Lily, where’s Joseph? He was with you.” Rebecca felt panic, remembering the day he’d nearly perished in the fire.

  “He’s sleepin’, mum.” Lily nodded at a nearby tent. “He plays and plays, and then all of a sudden he drops.”

  “I wish I had all his energy.” Rebecca glanced about. “And Willa? Have you seen her?”

  “She’s gone up ta ’er tent, mum.” Lily frowned. “I’m a bit worried ’bout ’er. She looked done in. I don’t think she’s feeling well.”

  “I’ll check on her.” Rebecca hurried to her mother-in-law’s tent. Standing outside the entrance, she said, “Willa. Are you all right?”

  “Yes. I’m fine. Come in.”

  Rebecca pulled back the door flap and walked inside. The space looked surprisingly like a home. Willa had managed to purchase some comfortable furnishings, and the neighbors had been more than generous by providing a bureau and a bed. A vase filled with flowers sat on a small table in the center of the room. Willa lay on the bed, propped up by pillows.

  “Lily said you weren’t feeling well,” Rebecca said.

  “I’m fine. Just a bit tired. A midday nap will see to me.”

  “Are you sure?”

  “Yes. Absolutely. But I dare say, I’m not as young as I once was. I fear napping is becoming more and more of a necessity. As it should be for you these days.”

  “I’m fine,” Rebecca said, sitting on a straight-backed chair beside the bed. “I was just thinking that you might need some help. What would you like me to do?”

  “You do so much already. And with the baby coming, well, I don’t want you overworked.”

  “That’s the last thing I am. Actually, I was hoping I could help with the building that will be going on, but Daniel’s uneasy about it.”

  “Is he home?”

  “Yes. And he got the loan, so work on the house will begin soon.”

  Willa looked thoughtful but said nothing.

  “There’s a lot I could do if I were allowed.”

  “Daniel’s only thinking of your welfare, dear. And the baby’s.” She smiled. “Perhaps you could crochet some new doilies to replace the ones we lost. And I dare say, the baby will need clothing. You could make a nice layette for her.”

  “Her? You think it will be a girl?”

  “Oh, I don’t know really.” Willa smiled. “But I feel like it just might be.”

  “That would be nice.” Rebecca sighed. Sewing and needlework were fine, but she wanted to do more. Standing, she said, “I’ll let you rest and see if Lily needs help with supper.”

  Lily patted a handful of dough between her palms. “Good ta ’ave Mr. Thornton home, eh?”

 
“Yes. Life is back in order.”

  A furrow creased the servant’s broad forehead. “How did things go for ’im in Brisbane?”

  “If you’re asking if he got the loan, the answer is yes.” Rebecca smiled.

  Lily’s face looked flushed, and she made a point of not looking at Rebecca.

  “Nothing around here stays a secret for long. You don’t need to be self-conscious about wanting to know about the future of Douloo.”

  “Figured it wasn’t really me business, mum, but . . . I was curious. And I care ’bout ya.”

  “I hope taking out a loan from a stranger was the right thing to do.”

  Lily pushed the lump of dough down on a kneading board. “And why would ya think not?”

  “Last Sunday I overheard Mr. O’Brien ask Mr. Oxley about that man Marshal. He said something about there being rumors. I think he said rumors.”

  “Is that all ya heard?”

  “Yes. Just that.”

  “Wal now, ya don’t know just what was bein’ said, then, and ya can’t listen ta rumors. I figure ya’ll soon know ’im well enough.” Lily dropped the dough into a bowl.

  “I suppose.” Rebecca unbuttoned the cuffs on her blouse and rolled up her sleeves. “Can I help you with supper?”

  Lily thought. “Wal, there’s a recipe I was hopin’ ta use, but I can’t read it. Maybe ya could read it for me?”

  “I thought you didn’t use written recipes.”

  “Roight, but Mrs. Thornton likes this ’specially, and since she’s feelin’ a bit down, I figured it’s a good day ta make it for ’er.”

  “You don’t know how to read at all?”

  “Oh no, mum. Blacks don’t read. Never did, never will.”

  “Where’s the recipe?”

  “Ah, it’s roight there.” She nodded at the table where a piece of paper lay. “Was hopin’ someone would give me a hand.”

  Rebecca picked up the paper and glanced down at the ingredients. “Do you ever wish you could read?”

  “Yais, for sure. But I don’t think I’m smart enough. Figure there’ll be no readin’ for Lily.” She glanced at Rebecca. “That’s all roight by me. No need. I got along well so far. Figure I’ll do fine yet.”

  Rebecca nodded, her mind trying to get hold of a scrap of an idea. What if she were to teach the aborigines on the station to read? It would be a good thing. They could become more independent. And she’d have something important to fill her time.

  She sat at the table. “Lily, if you could . . . would you like to read?”

  “Oh, sure. I sometimes see ya or Mrs. Thornton readin’, and I think how lovely it’d be ta disappear inta one of them stories. Course, there’s always the storytellers. We got us a couple ’ere on the place. Some nights we all gather ’bout and listen ta the tales of the beginning and ’bout how we come ta be.”

  Rebecca’s mind continued to work. Callie had learned to read without difficulty; why couldn’t the others? She could open a school and maybe even teach several subjects. The idea seemed fine until she considered Daniel. He wouldn’t like it. He wanted her to do less, not more. And there weren’t even any buildings up yet. Adding a school would only complicate things.

  “So . . . if you could learn, you’d want to?”

  “Wal, sure. But I figure I’m too dumb.”

  “Of course you’re not.”

  “Maybe, but that’s all I heard since I was a gal.”

  “Well, it’s not true.” Rebecca stood. As the idea grew, she could feel a pulse of excitement move through her. “Do you know where Callie is?”

  “I sent ’er out ta the garden ta pull me some carrots.”

  Her mind formulating a plan, Rebecca left the recipe on the table. “Would it be all right if I read the recipe to you later?”

  “Oh, sure. But not too long, eh?” She smiled, the gap between her front teeth adding to her good-natured appearance.

  “I won’t be long,” Rebecca said.

  She hurried toward the garden. It was blackened like the rest of the earth, but the carrots and potatoes had survived. With a canvas bag draped over her shoulder, Callie leaned down and pulled a carrot from the ground. She brushed it off and dropped it into the bag.

  Rebecca strode across the field. “Callie,” she called.

  Callie straightened and watched Rebecca approach. She’s got that look, she thought. She’s up ta something.

  “What is it, mum? Is everything all roight?”

  “Yes. In fact, things are wonderful, actually.”

  Callie waited for Rebecca to explain.

  “I have a grand idea.”

  “Grand, eh?”

  “I was talking to Lily . . .” Rebecca hesitated.

  “Mum?”

  Rebecca glanced back at the tents and at Lily working over supper. “I doubt you’ll like my idea.”

  “Can’t know what it is if ya don’t tell me, eh?”

  “Right. Of course. Well, Lily needed me to read a recipe to her. She doesn’t know how to read. And when I asked if she’d like to learn, she said yes, only she said she didn’t think she could.” Rebecca barely stopped for a breath. “While she was talking, I started thinking . . . wouldn’t it be marvelous if we opened a school right here at Douloo?”

  Callie felt instant apprehension, but rather than responding immediately, she allowed the proposal to rest inside her where she could consider it. She dug away the soil around a carrot, grabbed hold of the root, and pulled.

  “A school for aborigines . . . here at Douloo,” Rebecca said.

  Callie brushed dirt from the carrot. She knew Rebecca meant well, but the idea wouldn’t work. Finally she asked, “For what purpose, mum?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “What are blacks goin’ ta do with readin’?”

  “How can you ask such a thing? You know how to read.”

  Callie added the carrot to those already in her bag. “Yais. But not much, and there’s no need for it.”

  “I thought you liked reading.”

  “Sometimes, but I don’t understand all that’s in yer books.” She moved down the row to the next singed carrot top.

  Rebecca followed. “Eventually you will, and more of the world will be open to you as your reading improves.”

  Callie pulled the carrot and straightened. I thought she understood. “The world is already open ta blacks, mum. Just not yer world.”

  Rebecca studied Callie. “Books can tell us so much about different people and cultures. Don’t you want more knowledge and wisdom?”

  “Not really, mum. I know enough. And wisdom will come.” She looked to the west, toward Thornton Creek. “If ya open a school, people gonna get mad.”

  “Some won’t like it, but I think most of the people in the district are good, fair-minded citizens.” Looking hurt, Rebecca met Callie’s eyes. “I thought you’d want your friends to be educated.”

  “Just don’t want no trouble.”

  “I’m sure everything will be fine.” Rebecca scanned the empty fields. “Where do you think we should meet?”

  Irritation needled Callie. Rebecca wasn’t listening. Callie looked about. “Don’t know. There’s nothin’ roight now—no place. Everything’s all burned up.”

  Rebecca’s eyes searched. “We could meet outdoors, or we could put up a tent. It will keep the sun off, and if it rains, we’ll stay dry.”

  Callie said nothing more.

  Rebecca took her arm and started walking, dragging her friend along with her. “Come on. Let’s have a look around. We’ll need to find just the right spot.”

  Remaining silent for a long while, Callie walked along beside Rebecca. Although Rebecca seemed determined, Callie tried again to explain. “Mum, I think yer goin’ ta ’ave trouble. And even if we ’ave a school, it’ll make no difference for us.”

  Rebecca stopped. “You can’t know that. Don’t you think the other servants here deserve an opportunity to learn, the way you did? And I think people in the dist
rict will trust educated aborigines more—give them credit for having intelligence.”

  “I thought ya knew better.” Callie shook her head. “The ones that hate us will keep on hatin’ no matter what.”

  “Some perhaps, but people change.” She studied the area. “We have to begin somewhere.” Rebecca smiled. “Wouldn’t it be grand if we were able to have more schools in the district and educate all the black children?”

  Callie’s eyes opened wide. “It’ll never happen, mum.”

  “You have to believe, Callie. God can do anything.”

  Callie would have liked to believe, but she knew there was no god powerful enough to do what Rebecca wanted.

  Rebecca ran her index finger down her watch chain and lifted the watch. Pushing in the clasp, she flipped open the front of the case—eleven forty-five. Time to finish up.

  With satisfaction, she watched her students. Six of them were bent over their slates, working on sums. Two others, the oldest, had completed their arithmetic and were focused on their early-elementary readers.

  They’ve made such progress, Rebecca thought, feeling the warmth of satisfaction. They’d not only taken the first steps in reading and writing but had gained skills in mathematics and had even grasped some of the cultural studies. There’s no telling what they can accomplish if given the opportunity. Even Lily has learned some basics.

  Rebecca smiled. She didn’t want class to end for the day, but she had other responsibilities—her family—and she’d promised the doctor she’d stay off her feet. She glanced over her rounded abdomen. Her ankles looked swollen.

  “All right, then. Time to hand in your slates. We’ll resume tomorrow morning.”

  There was a flurry of hurried writing and cleaning of slates,and then quietly the children filed past Rebecca, handing her their slates before hurrying out the tent door.

  Alice, one of the older girls who’d managed to move ahead of the other children, held her book against her stomach. “I was wonderin’ if ya’d mind me takin’ it with me, mum?”

  “Not at all. I know you’ll take good care of it.”

  Alice smiled, and her dark eyes shone. “Thank ya, mum.” She skipped off toward the doorway.