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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Born Carol Stone in Lithgow NSW in
1948, the author moved to the Illawarra at the age of five and left school to
become a ladies hairdresser.
In 1967 she married Neil Preston in
Wollongong, where their two children, Tammy and Adam were born.
Carol returned to study in 1976 and
completed a PhD at Wollongong University in 1986, publishing numerous academic
articles in psychological journals during that time. She is now in private
counselling practice. Carol enjoys gardening, spending time with her four
grandchildren and bushwalking.
This is her third novel in a trilogy
about her Australian ancestors. For more information about Carol’s books and her
other interests she can be contacted on her website:
www.carolpreston.com.au
The real prophet
is not he who predicts the future
but he who reads history and reveals the present
............Author unknown
CHAPTER ONE
Marengo, NSW,
March, 1891
If not for the deep ache in her
heart Rebecca might have been thoroughly enjoying the beauty around her this
morning. It was a beautiful autumn day, the sky pale blue with fine wisps of
cloud scattered around the sun. Kangaroo and snow grasses waved gracefully as
she passed along the track. The pungent odour of gum leaves made her feel fresh
all over and except for the occasional warble of a magpie there was just the
sound of Gypsy’s clopping on the red earth. She sat tall in the saddle, her
riding breeches hugging her legs. Her auburn hair flowed freely behind her, the
wind rushing into her face and making her cheeks glow pink. Her colour deepened
as she remembered the warmth of Andrew’s breath on her face as they’d cuddled
close in bed before rising. She could still see his twinkling blue eyes smiling
at her from under the fair hair that flopped across his forehead. Her heart
leapt with pleasure at the image.
Taking a deep breath she set those
thoughts aside and focussed on her plans for today. Now that she was a
respectable married woman, surely Mary would put the past behind them. Rebecca
had been rebuffed more than enough times over the past few years and it was time
to win back her sister’s affections. It was Mary’s husband, James, who was the
real problem. He’d made it quite clear that he thought all Catholics should burn
in hell and he was just as adamant in his abhorrence of Rebecca’s ideas about
women’s rights. But she still couldn’t understand how Mary could side with James
and cast her aside like this.
Regardless of the opposition, Rebecca
was not going to give up on her sister no matter how long it took. She urged
Gypsy into a canter and headed away from Marengo towards Monteagle, just north
of Young. James and Mary had recently moved to the small village and Rebecca was
sure it was another of James’ schemes to keep them apart. It had doubled the
journey to visit Mary, but what was another hour on horseback for Rebecca? She
loved riding so it was no deterrent at all. She guessed it might become a little
more difficult in the months ahead, for she suspected she was already pregnant,
which was wonderful and would thrill her husband when she told him. He would
likely become a bit protective though and so she’d held off saying anything that
might risk her plans for this day.
James didn’t approve of women riding at
all, of course. ‘Undignified!’ he’d spluttered more than once. Not at all what
he expected of his woman, who apparently was to be constantly available
for his every whim. Not that he was home that often. Everyone knew he came and
went as he pleased, usually with the excuse of finding work, but never returning
with any sign that he’d found anything but a pub. He’d see to it that his wife
was pregnant again and then disappear, leaving her with no support and a growing
family; seven now, Rebecca counted, and another on the way.
Rebecca couldn’t understand why any
woman would put up with such behaviour and certainly not her sister who’d been
such a headstrong young girl. The loss of their dear Mama when they were just
thirteen and sixteen had changed Mary. Determined to find happiness for herself
and avoid anything painful, Mary had married John Coddington soon after their
mother’s death. But when John died suddenly Mary slumped into a deep blackness,
became frightened of the harshness of life. She’d married James Taylor less than
two years later and as far as Rebecca could see, it was the biggest mistake of
her sister’s life. Mary was only in her mid thirties now but she seemed to have
shrivelled into an old woman, her once beautiful face lined and sad. Something
must be done, Rebecca determined, not only because she missed her sister’s
friendship, but also because it was wrong for a woman to be so dominated and
repressed by a man.
When she reached Monteagle she easily
found the small plot her Uncle Bill had described to her. She slid from her
horse and made her way to the front porch of the tiny cottage, wondering how
Mary managed in such a meagre space with her growing family. Mary’s eldest
children, Susan and Willie, were sixteen and fourteen now and would be a great
help to her, but the others still needed a lot of care and from all reports Mary
spent most of her time in bed, either pregnant or ill. Rebecca’s visits to their
hut in Marengo had usually ended with her knocking being ignored, or James’ face
sneering at her from the porch. She hated having to leave without seeing her
sister, without knowing what was going on. The news from her uncle Bill that
James was away now was all Rebecca needed to try again. She banged on the door,
determined to persist, until eventually Willie opened it. He’d been out back in
the garden by the look of his hands. He stepped onto the porch quickly when he
saw Rebecca and pulled the door closed behind him.
‘Ma said to tell you to go away.’
‘I see, and is that what you’d like as
well?’
The boy shook his head slowly. Rebecca
noticed that his eyes had gone glassy.
‘Why don’t you walk me to the gate, and
let’s have a little chat, shall we?’
Willie looked back at the door but
followed Rebecca tentatively as she began to move towards the gate.
‘What’s happening, Willie? I only want
to help, honestly.’ Her face pleaded with the young boy.
‘He’ll hurt Ma,’ he eventually replied,
his voice so soft she could hardly hear him.
‘Hurt her?’ she prompted
‘If he knows you’ve been here … they had
a terrible fight the last time you came … in Marengo. He thought you’d stay away
once we were here.’
‘Tell me what’s happening, Willie –
please.’
‘Well, that time he hit her real bad.’
Willie was helpless to stop now and it all came rushing out. ‘The bruises were
awful. It took ages for them to go away … and the swelling too. She won’t go out
when she’s like that. She pretended to us that she fell but we heard them
fighting. When he’s not drunk he’s … they seem to get on better. But it’s best
when he’s away. I don’t want him to come back. Neither does Susan.’
‘Does he hurt her too?’ Rebecca
interrupted, struggling to contain her disgust.
‘Not beating … but she’s scared of him …
she won’t talk about it. He’s belted me but that doesn’t matter. I do some work
on my uncles’ farms now, the Coddingtons at Currawang. He thought it’d be too
far for me to go from here but I ride it easily in an hour. Ma worries … but
they give me some money and I give it to Ma … unless he takes it. I try to stop
him but he gets the belt to me. I’m getting bigger now. I can just about handle
him, especially when he’s been drinking. If he comes back this time I’ll take
him on, I will. He only stays around till the fighting gets real bad … and when
he’s gone, Ma is always sick … or having another baby. She’s glad he’s gone now
so she can rest … but then later … she always wants him back.’ Willie’s words
slowed gradually and he heaved a deep sigh. Then, suddenly aware of all he’d
said he turned to Rebecca, whose face was immobilised with horror. ‘You won’t
tell Ma I told you, will you?’
Rebecca wanted to drag him into her arms
and protect him but her stomach was churning with anger. She shook her head,
trying to reassure him as her thoughts raced and feelings of guilt flooded her
mind. She should have guessed what was going on, should have done something
before this.
Rebecca assured Willie she wouldn’t
reveal what he’d said but insisted they go back into the house. Mary was clearly
disturbed by her sister’s sudden appearance at her bedside.
‘What do you want?’ she sighed wearily.
‘I want to help you, Mary. You’re not
happy. Please let me help. Your family loves you. We just want you to be … safe.
If not for yourself, then what about your children?’
‘The children are fine.’
‘No they’re not fine.’ Rebecca’s anger
rose to the surface. ‘’Tis as plain as the nose on your face that Susan’s
miserable. I just passed her in the kitchen. Sure, she looks ready to drop and
her face is as sad as a new widow.’
Mary turned away from her sister’s
piercing gaze but not before Rebecca saw a tear well up in the corner of her
eye.
‘Perhaps she’s tired. The little ones
can be a handful,’ Mary muttered.
‘Perhaps you ought to ask her what’s
bothering her. She is old enough to know what’s making her unhappy.’
Mary blinked, trying not to take in what
her sister was saying. Something dark flashed across her mind but she shook her
head, dismissing it. ‘I think she’s just worn out. Willie’s too busy at
Currawang to help much but Missie is eleven now. She’ll be more help soon.’ Mary
was struggling to reassure herself.
‘And James?’
Mary lowered her eyes, not wanting to
face the question. ‘He’s trying to find work. He does his best. Anyway, it’s
none of your business. You’ve no right to be telling me how to run my house.’
Something savage rose up in Mary’s voice and Rebecca took a small step back.
Mary immediately sensed that she’d put her sister off guard and raised her head
slightly from her pillow. ‘This is my life … James’ and mine. You’ve no call to
be judging my husband or me. Not the way your life has been.’
‘If you’re referring to what happened to
me in Sydney, you know it wasn’t my fault. When I came home pregnant I was
devastated. And if people’s cruelty to me wasn’t enough then don’t you think
losing little Ernest to the fever was sufficient punishment? I don’t know what
I’d have done without the support of Mary Anne and Uncle Bill. I needed my
family then, as you do now.’ Rebecca drew close and touched Mary’s arm, her face
pleading for understanding.
Mary pulled her arm away. Her face was
blank of emotion. ‘Please go. And don’t come back. You’re not needed here.’ She
slumped back onto her pillow, her energy spent.
Rebecca watched her sister’s eyes shut
tight, signalling the end of the conversation. She reluctantly backed out of the
room. She found young Susan also sullen and unwilling to speak so she smiled
reassuringly at Willie as she left the house, trying to impart to the boy a hope
she was struggling to feel herself. She’d wanted so much for this day and now it
all seemed worse than before.
The following
week Rebecca went to visit her sister-in-law, Sarah Oakes, who’d been her best
friend since they were in school. They’d even hatched plans together to go to
Sydney when they were older, to discover the world away from Marengo, perhaps to
study and make a life that was more than being a wife and mother, which it had
seemed to Rebecca was the only option women were allowed. But when Sarah fell in
love with Rebecca’s brother, Will, all that had changed. Not Sarah’s support and
care but any hope of them sharing their dream. Sarah’s world now revolved around
her husband and six children.
Rebecca watched as Sarah finished
putting her freshly baked scones on a tray. They smelt delicious and Rebecca
knew that her nieces and nephews would devour them with homemade jam and cream
before the morning was out. Sarah pushed the fallen tendrils of her hair back
under her scarf, wiped her hands on her apron and sat down. She looked weary,
Rebecca thought, her fine features thinning over the years. Sarah was not yet
thirty but the constant heavy work of caring for her family and helping Will on
their small farm had taken its toll. Life for a woman on the land was never
easy. But at least Sarah was happy in her marriage to Will, which was more than
could be said for Mary.
‘It’s too hard to fathom, Sarah. I’m
sure I don’t know what else to do. James has convinced Mary that I’m some kind
of loose woman and in choosing to follow my Catholic faith I’ve brought upon
myself well-deserved contempt. But you and Will go to the Anglican Church and
he’s no more welcoming of you, is he?’
‘No, he’s not,’ Sarah sighed. ‘Will has
tried to talk to Mary, but she’s withdrawn from him as well. He’s as worried as
you but he says we’ll just have to give your sister time.’
‘Time? It’s been eleven years since she
married James and it’s got worse every year. There’s something very wrong in
that house and I intend to find a way to get through to Mary.’
‘That sounds like my sister speaking.’
Will’s voice preceded his wiry frame coming into the parlour. Sarah’s
stepfather, Tom Eady, was close on Will’s heels. ‘I assume you’re on about
Mary?’ Will continued. ‘I’ve tried to talk to her but she’ll not hear a thing
said against that rogue husband of hers. She did accept some meat and vegetables
so they might eat a little better for a few weeks. I hardly think you’ve got a
chance with her, though. You make James angry and that’s only worse for Mary.’
‘That’s not fair, Will. I’ve done
nothing that should cause James to keep me from my sister. It’s him who should
be ashamed, not me.’
‘Well, you did insist on spouting your
ideas about women’s rights for years and then you went off to Sydney to the
university. It’s enough to frighten most men, let alone one like James Taylor.’
‘William Oakes!’ Rebecca stood and
pushed both fisted hands into her tiny waist. She couldn’t hide the annoyance in
her tone, though she tried to keep her voice light. ‘I wanted to be a teacher,
to educate children. How can anyone take offence at that?’ Rebecca could feel
the old ire rising within her. Her brother was a clever man with dreams of his
own. It hurt her terribly to think he couldn’t accept her aspirations.
‘Well, you’re a married woman now so
let’s not argue about it. I’m sure you’ll settle down to having children and
you’ll find contentment as other women do.’
Before Rebecca could open her mouth
again Tom held out a letter and jumped into the conversation, trying to avoid
the inevitable clash. He hated to see Rebecca and Will at odds, for they were
both fine people in his estimation, despite their differences. He also knew that
if pushed, Sarah would agree to a large extent with her dear friend and stand
against her husband. This was not the time for such a battle when he had very
good news for Will and Sarah.
‘Let’s get a cuppa and break open some
of those scones. We can tell the girls about this letter from England, Will,
eh?’ He glanced at Rebecca, his face pleading for her to hold back the
irritation that was flashing in her dark eyes. ‘We could do with some good news,
don’t you think?’ He pushed the letter across the table and addressed Sarah
before Will or Rebecca had a chance to speak again. ‘It came for your mother,
Sarah.’ He sat at the table and motioned for Will to do the same before he
continued. ‘You remember your father was related to the Whites of Burrangong –
that huge property west of here?’
Sarah nodded. ‘I know you’ve always said
we had rich relatives but I thought they were in England.’
‘They are. But apparently when your
father lived out at Burrangong in the fifties, his brother in England purchased
land close by and had it managed with a view to coming out here in his
retirement. With his death in England the land has been willed to your family.
It didn’t occur to me to send word to England when your mother passed away, but
it would have made no difference. The brother had no family of his own to will
the land to.’
‘How much land is it?’
‘It doesn’t say, but the manager still
lives there and would be expecting to retire when someone takes the property
over.’
‘It’s a pity George and David didn’t
know about this before they moved to Parkes,’ Will said to Sarah. ‘Your brothers
might have considered this a real prospect for themselves. They might have
decided to stay here and farm rather than going further west.’
‘We’ll contact the boys and see what
they suggest,’ Tom went on, ‘but you and Sarah have as much say in it as they
do. What do you think, Sarah?’
‘I’m a bit taken aback. But perhaps …
Will, perhaps this is an answer for you – for us.’ Her face brightened. ‘We
might be able to work the property, if the boys don’t want to. They’d have a
share in it of course, but …’
‘Now, Sarah, don’t get carried away.’
Will’s voice was sober. ‘This is nothing to do with me. It’s your brothers
who’ll have to decide to have it managed … or sell it … whatever they think is
best. It’s theirs, not ours.’
‘What are you saying? It’s my
inheritance as much as theirs.’
‘No, it isn’t. It doesn’t work like
that. You’re married to me and I provide for you. The property goes to the boys.
That’s the law … and how I’d prefer it.’
‘Wait a minute, Will,’ Tom cut in. ‘I
agree with Sarah. She has as much right to this as the boys, law or not. The
boys have settled their families in Parkes now. They won’t want to come back
here to manage this place. Sarah and you should have every chance at it.
Anyway,’ he hurried on before Will could speak again, ‘let’s inspect it, see
what it’s like before we make any decisions, eh?’
Will and Sarah nodded but Tom could see
the two of them were not going to agree about this. He hoped it wasn’t going to
cause trouble between his stepdaughter and her husband. He’d so wanted this to
be good news for them.
Rebecca remained quiet while the
conversation drew to a close. This was not the time for her to express her
opinion. Her brother had strong ideas about being independent and she knew he
was unlikely to take easily to the idea of Sarah inheriting land. Rebecca didn’t
always opt for peace for it rankled with her to see how men so often silenced
women and considered them incapable of serious opinions. But she wanted to give
Sarah time to think through what to do with this opportunity.
‘I’ll have to talk Will into taking it
on, Rebecca,’ Sarah said excitedly when the men had eaten and gone outside. ‘It
seems like an answer to prayer to me. Will has wanted to be a grazier with a
larger property for so long now, always talking of going further west so as to
be able to afford one. I don’t want to move out there in the middle of nowhere,
as you well know. I don’t see why Will doesn’t see this is the perfect answer.’
‘Perhaps he will. Give him time to get
used to the idea, Sarah.’
‘He’s planning to go out west shearing
again when spring comes so I do hope he thinks about it quickly. And we’ve not
long had a letter from David’s wife, so I just know my brothers won’t be wanting
to do anything about the land. Sadly, they seem to have had some kind of falling
out. Margaret said David is working flat out at Spring Park, the property they
bought just out of Parkes, but apparently he and George didn’t see eye to eye
about how to run the place. It seems George is happier in town running a
billiard saloon and doing his carpentry. He’s made friends with councillors,
people from the Jockey Club and rich pastoralists who enjoy a game of billiards
on Saturday nights and it seems he’s just not interested in their original plan.
Men … they’re a mystery, Rebecca. I hope they’ll patch things up between them,
but the upshot of it is they’re not likely to be thinking about another property
here, are they?’
‘Sounds unlikely. Let’s see what Will
thinks when you look the place over,’ Rebecca said optimistically. She didn’t
want to lose her dear friend or her brother to the west. It was still a harsh
land with very few services and she’d heard too many stories of the toll it took
on women and children. Rebecca was all for adventure and following one’s dreams,
but surely Will would not put his family at risk. He was usually so conservative
and cautious. Surely he’d see reason in this opportunity and take it up.
A few days
later Sarah knocked excitedly at Rebecca’s door.
‘Oh, Rebecca, the property’s a dream
come true. Plenty of room and the stock’s very healthy. It would be wonderful
for the children. And not so far from the school. Susan and Mary are nine and
seven now. They’ve settled into their lessons so well. Eliza and Emily can’t
wait to go and I’ve little George and baby Thomas to consider. I couldn’t think
of moving them away from their chance for education. You’d agree with that,
surely?’
‘Of course I do.’ Rebecca smiled as she
thought about the children she taught at the convent at Burrowa. She knew how
children loved to learn. She believed with all her heart that girls should have
the same opportunities as boys and it had to start with education. She was
grateful that Andrew had encouraged her to keep up her teaching
and she wanted to be just as encouraging of Will in his dream of owning a large
sheep property. If this inheritance of Sarah’s could provide that and allow
Sarah to stay close by as well, then it seemed like the perfect solution for
everyone. She and Sarah agreed to pray for Will to make the right
decision. But Rebecca knew that answers to prayer do not always come without
trials and testing.
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