Absolution Creek (54 page)

Immediately Cora was a young girl again sitting under a tree with a mangy dog, the land illuminated by moonlight. There were eight of them then, too. Whether imagination or reality, the moment returned with absolute clarity, and Cora found herself unnerved by the memory. Soon afterwards they had left the Purcells’ property in the dead of night. Now here she was, and with all the time between then and now she’d seen them again.

Horse shook his head and reluctantly recommenced their journey. ‘I know how you feel, old boy.’ Cora patted his neck and gave him a brief scratch between the ears. A shiver ran down her spine. She was of a mind to turn back, for surely the appearance of the Aboriginal men was a warning. ‘I’ve come too far now.’

Horse picked his way carefully through an area thick with gums, finally locating the dirt road leading to the Campbell homestead. James was fifth generation, and the scent of old money was as tangy as the leaves Horse crushed beneath his hoofs. The homestead was encased in a veranda. It had once been open, then gauzed in, and was now partially enclosed with cheap weatherboard. It ruined the look of the house and had been a cross James’s mother bore with shame, yet the homestead was prized for its furnishings and lavish garden, and James did his best to ensure the property’s upkeep: this despite the deaths of two Campbells in the fifties and the resultant death duties imposed by the government.

It was still dark when Cora dismounted at the main entrance, freeing Horse to wander the parkland-like surrounds and neatly clipped English maze. Even with the recent passing of the family matriarch, Cora remained uncomfortable standing on Campbell soil. James’s forefathers had not been kind to the Indigenous peoples who roamed this land in the early days, although Captain Bob was a respected employee until he defected to Absolution Creek. Cora rapped sharply on the veranda door, stepped inside and lifted the heavy brass knocker on the main door. She knocked loudly. It was a few minutes before she was answered.

‘Cora?’

James was dressed for a day’s work. She could smell coffee and soap.

‘I’m sorry, James. I needed to see you.’

‘Is everything all right?’ He peered out into a steel-grey sky and ushered her inside. ‘You didn’t ride here?’

They were in a long hallway with leadlight doors and exposed timber beams. ‘You know me.’

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders. ‘And you couldn’t use the phone or wait until daylight?’

‘And have everyone in the district know my business?’

‘Fair enough.’

They walked through a darkly furnished parlour, followed by a less formal sitting room. The rooms smelt musty. Dust and disuse hung in the corners of the aged rooms.

‘I’ve missed you.’

Cora gave an imitation of a smile. She cared too much to hurt him with false expectation. Towards the rear of the house they turned down an external walkway that led into a kitchen twice the size of hers. There was an ancient wood stove, a newer Aga and a large gas oven and cooktop, commercial in size. A breakfast of eggs and bacon was congealing on the scrubbed wooden table.

‘Coffee?’

‘Yes please.’

Cora sat in one of the high-backed wooden chairs and snuck a piece of buttered toast from James’s plate. The room was stuffy and hot thanks to a raging fire in the Aga, and condensation was forming on the windows above the double sink. Everything was spotless. Even the china cabinet with its willowy blue and white breakfast setting shone. ‘I’m sorry I’ve come unannounced.’

‘Lucky you caught me. I’ve a big day on.’ He handed her a mug. ‘I’ve got to get Mitchell’s horse back to him this morning and then I’m heading to Stringybark Point to do a shop before I get scurvy.’

Cora didn’t smile.

Instead she took a sip of coffee and played with an orange in the large fruit bowl near her elbow. ‘I’ve got a problem.’

James sat beside her and took her hand in his. ‘Apart from me?’

‘I’m serious.’ Releasing her hand, Cora retrieved a letter from her pocket. James read it through, once, twice.

‘So the little bugger’s suing you and he wants thirty-five thousand pounds?’ Turning his fork over, James shovelled fried egg into his mouth. ‘Who would have thought he had the brains to think this up.’

‘It was fifty thousand initially.’

‘Well, I’d take him to court.’ James refolded the creamy paper.

‘I’ve got a fifty per cent chance of losing,’ Cora complained. ‘He was drunk when the accident happened, however we showered him and by the time Harold drove him the one hundred-plus miles to the hospital he’d sobered up.’

‘Your word against his, eh?’

‘His collarbone was broken badly so Jarrod’s case is based around an inability to work.’

‘I’m no expert but I would have thought the odds were in your favour. You don’t look convinced?’ James took another mouthful of cold egg, pushing his plate to one side.

Cora sighed. ‘The horse float had a defective brake.’

‘So you’re thinking you should pay him out?’

‘Yes, but I can’t.’

‘Why not? You’ve got nil expenses and it’s not like you spend any money on improvements.’

Cora took the letter back. ‘Well, thanks for summing up my management style.’

‘Hey, I’m on your side. I just don’t get it.’

Practically everything inside the homestead had been there since the early 1800s. It was fine for James to be judgemental – he’d never been poor. Not really poor. ‘I wouldn’t ask unless I was desperate.’ She paused. ‘I was wondering if you’d lend me the money. I could pay it back over, say, ten years, with interest.’

James pushed his cold breakfast plate to one side. ‘Cora, ten years? What’s going on over there?’

‘Nothing. Sorry, I shouldn’t have asked.’ She rose to leave.

‘Look, sit down.’ James led her back to her seat. He took a breath. ‘You’ve got sheds that need repairs and a house that’s falling down around you.’ He rubbed his eyes. ‘Even Ellen’s concerned.’

‘She never liked me.’

‘Probably not, however you never have been and never will be like anyone else. You’re an enigma, with a childhood story that’s probably done the rounds of every kitchen, shearing shed and pub in a six-hundred-mile radius since 1923. I know some of it. I know what you lost and how you got Absolution, and I can only imagine how hard it’s been for you to hold onto the property.’

‘I’ve got Jack Manning to thank for it.’

‘Cora, I appreciate what he did for you, but I’ll never respect him because of the hold he has over you. He ruined you for every man that followed. He ruined you for me.’

She’d never realised that James vaguely understood her attachment to Jack. Cora stared at the table wishing for words of explanation that would probably never come.

‘Well?’ James’s voice carried more than a hint of anger.

‘I’m here to talk about
this
.’ She waved the letter in his face, unwilling to be led into yet another argument.

James thumped his hand on the table, and the knife and fork clattered. ‘They’re not mutually exclusive, Cora. I know you care, so what the hell’s the problem? Why won’t you marry me?’ His amber eyes were dark.

For the first time Cora found herself on the brink of telling James why it was so impossible to commit to him fully. But how to find the words when she herself had an image of a cage and a tiny door, which now seemed permanently wired shut. She was scared of losing James. That was why she couldn’t commit to him, although her fear would hardly make sense to the man sitting opposite. She had lost the two men she loved most in her life as a girl, and she was scared that if she opened herself up to that type of desire again something would happen and she would lose James as well.

James was still staring at her, waiting. Cora gave a weak smile. Did he want her to come right out and say it? Did James really want to know that she was still in love with Jack Manning?

‘Cora?’

This wasn’t a conversation Cora wanted to have. She felt foolish and vulnerable. It was such an old wound and the depth of it meant it would probably never heal. Instead she drank her coffee, stared out the kitchen window as light flickered across the land beyond. Maybe she would be better off packing Meg and her brood back to Sydney and just walking away from Absolution. She sure as hell wasn’t going to borrow from James if it meant she had to tell him the truth. She could just imagine his reaction.

James, I know you’ve heard the story that I killed a man. It’s true. James, I don’t own Absolution and the lease runs out in a matter of years. I’m sorry. I misled you about the ownership because I don’t want anyone to know. I don’t want anyone to know because the government could take the land away from me if they wanted to. Absolution’s all I have.

‘I can’t do this, James. I’m sorry. I can only tell you that there are certain arrangements in place that restrict my –’ she gave a glib smile ‘– borrowing potential.’

‘Then I can’t lend you the money. I want you in my life. I do.’ He ran his fingers through shower-wet hair. ‘Jeez, Cora, between this vendetta you have for your sister and your inability to commit, well, let’s face it, there isn’t any room for me in your life. It’s taken me a while to understand but I don’t think you’re capable of loving anyone, or at least not me. So I guess what I’m saying is that if I can’t have you then I’m at least entitled to the truth. Come back when you’re ready to share your problem with me.’

‘Point taken.’ Cora pushed out her chair. ‘You might stay away from Meg too. It was wrong of you to flirt with her that night in the kitchen on the off-chance it would make me jealous. She’s got her own relationship problems without being subjected to our debacle.’

‘Fair enough.’

Cora left him sitting at the table. She noticed that dust sheets covered most of the furniture. Weak sunlight filtered through the house as she halted at the portrait of Eloise Campbell in the dining room. Wife to a respected squatter, mother to three children, and doyenne of local society, she had been immortalised in oil. Eloise was probably turning in her grave at Cora’s presence in her beloved homestead. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise that James lived under her thumb while she was alive, but Cora expected more of him; she expected more of everyone. Maybe that was why she was so hard on herself.

Outside, Horse came to Cora immediately, his hoofs clip-clopping across gritty pavers. Mounting up they turned down the dirt track and began trotting homeward. Cora kept her gaze on the road ahead. In the east, thick thunder knobs knotted the horizon, lightning glazing the grey-blue cloud. Frustration and sadness welled within her. She didn’t expect to ever return to the Campbell homestead and the reality of her loss bit deeply. It was always the same: fate always meant she would lose those she loved the most, and she did love James Campbell. Now she would never know if she could love him more than Jack.

James sipped steaming coffee, his gaze alternating between the portrait of his mother and the newspaper. Having intended to be on his way by now, he was hunkered down in the dining room trying to make sense of what Cora
hadn’t
said. James adjusted the kerosene lamp on the side table. The blackout had begun a few minutes after Cora’s departure and now here he was in the room he’d been firmly barred from entering as a child. He still took delight from sitting in the blue velvet armchair, his feet sinking into the top of a matching foot stool. A long low window offered an unrestricted view of the grassy plains, beyond which clouds were gathering. They perched above the western tree line, lightning barrelling across the far horizon. Eloise Campbell stared at her son from the opposite wall. Every time a disagreement occurred with Cora, James would stew about it in the company of his mother.

His mother was correct in nearly every aspect when it came to declaring Cora Hamilton’s lack of suitability as a potential Mrs Campbell. They were different, he and Cora. In everything from upbringing to social status to wealth they were diametrically opposed. Except for one thing: he loved Cora, and his mother knew it. Notwithstanding the district gossips who took sides as if they were barracking for opposing rugby teams, James knew that in her heart Eloise Campbell was a romantic. When she was alive his mother knew James rode out at dusk to return in the dark of night, knew he would cut through Absolution in the excuse that it was a good shortcut to some of his veterinary clients. She ignored these trysts and indeed often spoke of Cora as a capable woman.

James remained convinced that if they had ever met in person, Eloise Campbell and Cora Hamilton would have been ready friends, for despite their social differences they were strong-willed women who had given their lives to a demanding environment. In the end, despite the endless rumours regarding Cora’s past, there was only one thing that barred Cora from acceptance, which meant the only way his woman would have gained entrance to the Campbell homestead during his mother’s lifetime would have been if she were passing around canapes at one of her gatherings.

How disappointing, then, to discover that his beloved mother’s passing did not alter his relationship with Cora. James was starting to believe the relationship was a dead end. In fact, the thought of finishing things for good made perfect sense, except that he kept going back to her. Kept on hoping that Cora would give in and see what their life together could be. There would be no children now. He was reconciled to that, and in truth the loss of fatherhood was nothing compared to not having Cora; annoying, bossy, argumentative, intelligent, capable, Cora.