And Those Who Trespass Against Us (12 page)

"They look like a perfect fit. How did you manage to do this? You barely have time to sit, much less sew. Thank you very much." Katherine hugged Catriona.

Being consumed by such an embrace was the last thing Catriona had expected, yet everything she wanted. She closed her arms around Katherine, neatly encircling her waist and back. She had long thought about what it would be like to hold her, but reality far exceeded her expectations. She felt the touch of Katherine's wisps of hair on her face. The experience was overpowering and dangerous, yet she could no sooner break away than cut off her own hands.

Katherine pulled out of the embrace. "How did you manage this?"

The moment broken, Catriona sat before she fell down. She looked at Katherine's expectant features. "It was easy. If you remember after your first day here, when your habit was too dirty to wear regardless of your attempts to sponge the stains from it, I told you I'd take it into town for washing."

"Yes, and you did."

"I also asked Susan to have her laundress make up two more habits in a more conventional fabric. You'll find they're exactly the same as your woollen ones, including your bloody veil and wimple. These are much more functional for the hot summer weather.

You'll get good wear from your woollen ones in the winter time."

"Thank you so much." Katherine started toward her, looked at Catriona's face, and then caught herself. "Rest assured, after a good night's rest I fully intend to wear my new habit tomorrow."

Catriona barely managed a 'good night' when Katherine silently left the room. Only then did Catriona remember her promise to dab malt vinegar on Katherine's face to remove the sting of her sunburn. But, in all honesty, she didn't trust herself or her hands not to betray her own emotions. After placing the remaining sandwiches in the meat safe and the malt vinegar and cloth on the table, in case Katherine returned, she retired to her room.

KATHERINE RETURNED TO the kitchen, thankful she had brought her lamp with her. Sitting on the edge of the table was the vinegar, but Catriona was nowhere to be seen. She uncorked the bottle and dabbed some vinegar on the cloth and reminisced over the evening's recent events. It had been so long since anyone hugged her besides the children. The last adult was her father. Katherine frowned. Hugging Catriona was different. If felt--secure. But if she felt so secure, then why did she break away from her? The more she contemplated her reaction to the hug, the more confused she became. Going over it in her mind didn't help and, in fact, only served to remind her of her own fatigued state. Taking the lamp from the kitchen table, she rose and walked down the corridor to her bed, and to a restless night's sleep.

Chapter Six

KATHERINE LOOKED IN the mirror and grimaced. The taut, stretched skin on her face was a deep shade of red. "I look like I've been working in the convent's boiler room. I'm definitely going to have to speak with the father about wearing a hat."

Taking pains not to aggravate her sunburn, she finished her morning ablutions and headed for the kitchen. She placed a kettle on the stove and wandered to the back door to investigate the sounds coming from the yard.

From her vantage point Katherine watched Catriona undertake repairs to the curing shed. Her preoccupation gave Katherine the opportunity to unobtrusively observe the enigmatic woman. Despite the early hour, her shirt already carried the telltale signs of dirt and perspiration that accompanied manual work. Her sleeves were rolled up to her elbows, revealing slender yet well-formed, brown, sinewy arms. Occasionally she raised one hand to her face in an attempt to shoo away the flies, which relentlessly thrived in the country sun. She swung the hammer in tune to a song she contentedly whistled, oblivious to Katherine's inquisitive stare.

Katherine absentmindedly wiped a cup while she thought on their friendship. It had always been so difficult for her to make friends. Even at the convent, among so many women, she struggled to find someone she could openly confer with. But with Catriona, it was different. She felt like she'd found a true confidant. If Catriona's brother was anything like her, then she could see why Sister Coreen was so attracted to him.

The whistle of the kettle interrupted Catriona's work. She turned to see Katherine and waved. She put the hammer on the wood block and headed toward the kitchen, stopping only to wash her hands before joining Katherine inside.

"I'm glad to see you've wasted no time in getting rid of your woollen habits."

Katherine's stomach fluttered at Catriona's comments. "Thank you once again. I can't believe how well made they are. The seamstress who created these should be congratulated. And to think, they even came complete with veil and wimple. Weren't you a
little
tempted to have them made less the headwear you despise so much?"

Catriona laughed and pulled out a chair. "The thought did cross my mind. However, given your predisposition to not see reason, I was afraid you might not wear them at all. Then the gift would've been a waste."

Katherine responded to the light-hearted barb by throwing a dishrag, which Catriona easily fended. She picked the offending article up off the floor. "And I thought nuns weren't supposed to be violent. I'll have to watch you in the future."

Katherine cocked her arm back to launch another rag and Catriona held up her hands. "Enough, you win this round. If I promise to behave, may I have a cup of tea before I go back into the yard?" She lobbed the cloth at Katherine.

"That's what I was getting you." She caught the rag and returned it to its original place. "And, if you hadn't been so quick to come inside, then you may have had one delivered to you." She poured two cups of tea. "What else do you have to do today?"

Catriona nodded her thanks as she took the cup. "There are a number of minor jobs around the yard which need to be seen to. So I expect the better part of my day will be spent close to the house. What about you?"

"I've some lessons to prepare. Then I thought I might begin with a visit to the Farrell selection, work my way to the Dawson farm, and finish with a call on Mrs. Connor to see how her pregnancy is going." Katherine blew on her tea then took a sip.

"Don't wait too long to head home or you'll be hard pressed to be here before dark." Catriona furrowed her brows. "In fact, if you're leaving the Connor place and the sun's setting, then wait there and I'll come and get you. I'm not particularly keen on you travelling these roads unaccompanied."

Katherine's immediate response was to ask who was to accompany Catriona, but on reflection realised she was right. She wasn't familiar with the roads and tracks of the district. It would be too easy for her to guide the horse and wagon in the wrong direction and get hopelessly lost. "All right, I'll wait."

Catriona grabbed her cup and stood. "I think I'll take this and get back to work."

The lessons Katherine prepared were straightforward arithmetic and reading, incorporating farm life into the exercises, and it wasn't long before she was on her way. With a last wave to Catriona, who had started repairs on the front verandah, she headed the horse and wagon for the gate and her visits for the day.

GIVEN THE FARRELL'S only had the one child, Katherine's visit to them was accomplished in no time. By late morning she left their farm for her next stop. Unfortunately the Dawson's, unlike the Farrell's, had a large brood of energetic children, and Katherine found her hands full managing a bevy of inquiring minds ranging in ages from six to twelve, while becoming painfully aware of her scant breakfast. She was grateful for the offer of lunch. It never ceased to amaze her how the families managed to cope in such an unforgiving environment. Despite their lack of resources, they'd go without food themselves rather than turn out a visitor. Katherine made a mental note to make sure on her next visit to bring something for the family.

The sun was still high when she made her final call of the day to the Connor farm. Her wagon was met by the youngest Connor boy. She hopped down from the wagon and was almost knocked down by Liam's hug.

"Sister Katherine! I've finished the lessons you gave me. Now that I can count properly, papa says he'll let me help him count the sheep when we send them to market.

She gently extricated herself from his grasp. "That's lovely, Liam." She reached up into the wagon and retrieved her meagre parcel of primers. "Can you carry those to the house for me?" Liam's eyes gleamed with barely concealed curiosity. "And no peeking until I say so."

Liam took off and Katherine walked toward the tired figure of Mrs. Connor, waiting in the doorway of their upright slab, one bedroom hut.

"Sister Katherine, what a relief it is to see you," Mrs. Connor said, in a lilting Irish brogue. "I love my children dearly, but between them and," she patted her stomach, "the babe, there aren't enough hours in the day."

"Don't worry. Let me have some time with them. It won't be long, and they'll be too absorbed with their work to worry us. Why don't we go inside Mrs. Connor?" Katherine was painfully aware of the fatigue in Mrs Connor's eyes and stature. "I'll put the kettle on, if you like. Then I'll get the children's lessons underway."

Katherine's eyes took time to adjust to the room. It was not much bigger than the curing shed Catriona repaired earlier in the morning. Katherine couldn't believe so many people could be accommodated in such a confined space. She placed a kettle on the wood stove while Mrs. Connor sat on one of the only sturdy chairs in the hut. She thought it must take tremendous willpower for her to raise a family in such conditions, but she expected life in Australia was better than what Mrs. Connor had left behind in Ireland. At least out here they owned their land.

"You're a saint, sister. And how many times do I have to tell you, call me Mary."

"I'm sorry Mrs--Mary. Now, you make yourself comfortable." She ruffled Liam's hair. "While I see to these rascals."

FINALLY A TEMPORARY silence descended on the room, giving the two the opportunity to talk about Mary's pregnancy without interruption. Between her discussions with Mary and her teaching of the children, Katherine lost track of time.

Mary rose to light another lamp to afford the hut greater light.

Katherine gasped. "Oh my heavens--it's getting dark. I didn't realise we'd been talking for so long."

Mary pulled a pot across to the fire. "With the children as quiet as mice, neither did I." She lifted the lid and stirred the contents. "This is last night's stew but you know what they say--it always tastes better the second day. I don't think we'll have to wait long. Once Joseph smells this, he'll find his way home. You're welcome to share it with us."

Katherine had no idea where Mary's husband, Joseph, was. What she did know was that she was losing light. Mary turned away from the stove and Katherine furtively glanced at the pot's meagre contents. Catriona said to wait, but if she did that it meant dividing the meal for an extra mouth, something she could see the Connors could ill afford.

"Thank you for your kind offer. I better be on my way though, before it gets too dark."

Mary patted her arm as they walked outside. "Maybe next time them?"

Katherine smiled. "Certainly, especially if you're making your lovely pasties. I'll be out next week, with some more lessons for the boys."

Mary jumped at a squeal that emanated from inside the hut. "It sounds like someone's begun tea already. I'll see you next time."

With the shadows from the eucalyptus trees growing longer, Katherine boarded the wagon and turned the horse for home.

She hadn't gone far before she scolded herself for not staying at the Connors. She looked up at the clear twilight sky and grimaced. "My cotton habit is fine for the daytime," she said aloud, shivering, "but these nights are still a tad chilly."

Her body rocked in time to the motion of the wagon and the hairs on the back of her neck rose. Why was it suddenly so silent? The symphony of birds and insects which normally accompanied this time of evening was noticeably absent. With the exception of the sound of the movement of horse and wagon, the countryside was ominously silent, as if even nature was holding its breath.

She squinted into the last vestiges of the setting sun and scanned the road ahead--for what, she wasn't sure. Suddenly the horse raised its head and its ears pricked. Katherine could make out the silhouette of a rider and horse on the bend ahead. "Oh dear," she muttered. "I expect this is one lecture from Catriona I'm not going to easily avoid."

Despite her foreboding, she was frightened and annoyed at Catriona's mode of meeting her. "I know what you're going to say," Katherine called. "I should have never left the Connor's. I'm sorry. I didn't appreciate how fast night falls here. But you should be ashamed of yourself, sitting there, saying nothing. You're scaring me out of my wits. And you spooked the horse as well. He could have bolted, and heaven only knows what might have happened." Despite the warmth now generated by her indignation, the words uttered next chilled her to the bone.

"Sister, I don't know what or who you're talking about, but I'd lay odds it's not me." Riding slowly out of the sun's final rays was a man, the lower part of his face covered with a handkerchief, and pistols on each of his hips.

Bushrangers! Riveted to her seat, Katherine rapidly assessed her options. She could hardly run him down. He had the advantage of both speed and weaponry. At least his pistols were still holstered. She recalled a story Susan had told her about the gallantry of the local bushrangers toward women. Katherine fervently hoped her words had a foundation of truth and weren't merely legend.

The bushranger halted in front of her horse. He casually leant forward in his saddle, his forearms coming to rest on the pommel.

Katherine tamped down her fear. "If you're who I think you are, then you've picked a very poor target. I'm Sister Flynn, the local sister. I'm sorry to disappoint you, but I have nothing of worth. The best you can expect are children's primers. I doubt even
you
would lower yourself to rob from children," she said, nervously defiant as she pulled the reins toward her.