Driftwood (14 page)

Looking forward to Abby and Joey and their two young children, Kelly and Joseph, arriving for dinner, Anne poked the fire in the hearth back to life, the spray of fine glowing embers suspending for a few brief seconds before disintegrating into fine ash at her feet. Before she began cooking she had to boil the water for the children's bath — they were in need of a decent scrub after helping her in the garden all day, and she wanted them looking respectable for the dinner table. It was going to be a classy dinner tonight, one of rump, boiled potatoes, green beans and corn on the cob. She had grown the vegetables herself and the meat was from a cow William had slaughtered and hung from the gambrel in the bough shed until it was aged and tender. Her mouth watered with the thought of it.

With the water finally coming to a soft boil, she carefully lifted the large pot and carried it towards the tub, a wisp of a smile touching her lips as she poured it in and then added a few drops of rose oil. How fortunate were they to be able to sit down to such a magnificent dinner under the roof of their very own newly built cottage. Not many families in the area were that lucky, having to live in ramshackle huts with mutton chops as fodder. With the new cottage now completed, all thanks to her and William's hard labour, they no longer had to live in the old bough shed with its warping timber walls that allowed the wind to blow through, floorboards that creaked and moaned in displeasure at being walked upon, loose corrugated iron roofing that leaked whenever it rained and the masses of white ants that were eating the timber chairs out from beneath them.

The sounds of much needed rain, joyful squealing and Will's booming laughter brought her attention to the large front window. The scent of the rain hitting the hard-packed earth was heavenly and she breathed it in deeply. As she padded over to peer out, her hand fluttered to her growing belly and she stole a few moments from her afternoon chores to watch her family adoringly, feeling blessed for the life William had created for them all. They were not exactly wealthy but they were far from poor, Will's years of experience as a cattle farmer before he became a bushranger now working in his favour, as his business dealings were backed with innate wisdom and never made in haste.

Craving a few moments to ease the pressure from her swollen feet and aching lower back before summoning the children and William inside, Anne eased her body down to sitting and leant her head back in the chair, the views out the window and over the rolling paddocks mesmerising. Although it could be treacherous and intimidating, Waratah Station was such a vast and beautiful place, especially in the wet season, when everything would spring back to life and emerging shoots would swathe the parched lands in green gloriousness. And thank the good Lord the rains were finally here.

Closing her leaden eyes, the memories of the night she'd fled Goldbury on horseback with her arms wrapped tightly around William came flooding back to her. William had returned to her not long after finding Hocking back at his cottage, bleeding but not badly harmed from the fight, and highly anxious to leave. In mere minutes he'd had Anne up on his horse and they'd galloped off into the night, leaving Goldbury in their trail of dust. They'd headed to the town where they'd be meeting Joey and Abby and catching the paddle steamer all the way up to the coastal town of Cairns. From there they'd never looked back.

While she'd waited for him back in her room at the Goldbury Hotel she'd packed the jewellery box, clothes and a few personal items, along with her saved inheritance money. Then, going to Katherine's room, she'd explained that she was leaving and that the hotel and butchers were now hers. She'd handed Katherine the paperwork she'd signed to prove it. At first Katherine had refused to take Anne's generous offer but, with a little persuading, she'd wrapped her arms around Anne and sobbed, crying for the departure of her friend and rejoicing in the fact she was now the rightful owner of the hotel. Anne often found herself wondering how Katherine was doing. She also wondered, after the thumping Hocking had received from William, if the evil man had repented his sins and learnt his lesson. It would have been a nice outcome but she doubted it. He was most probably still terrorising Goldbury with his unjust ways. When she had told William of the young lad who had been killed right before her eyes in such an unfair way, William had hung his head in sadness. He'd explained to her that the young boy had been behind the bullet that killed Ronald Barrington, which in turn had saved her treasured friend, Abby.

The trip up the coast on the paddle steamer had taken just over two months, the journey arduous and sometimes treacherous as brutal storms hit without warning and belted the boat like giant fists. She'd spent many a moment on her knees along with Abby, praying for their safe arrival. The day they'd walked off the paddle steamer and onto land was an exuberant one. They'd stayed at Driftwood's Southern Cross Hotel for the first week until William and Joey had come across a drunken but courteous Englishman who was keen to sell his land and cattle for a measly price, claiming the station was a pile of unusable, uninhabitable dirt. The Englishman had explained how he'd first bought the land with big dreams of striking it rich in mining, but after sinking his first mineshaft his dreams were crushed when he'd discovered nothing of value. He was extremely eager to catch the first ship back to London and his family, cursing himself for being stupid enough to think that Australia was the land of plenty. His defeat had been their victory, and William and Joey bought the land and halved it. After a few very tough years, all their hard work had paid off, and the land was now productive, with strong and healthy cattle.

It had been five years since they had fled the godforsaken township of Goldbury, and in that time keeping their past a secret had been top priority for all of them, Joey and Abby included. They had all chosen to take on new identities, changing their last names to avoid being recognised. And it had worked, at least, for now. Anne prayed every day that it would stay that way. The thought of William being dragged off to the gallows if he was discovered by the police was unbearable, especially considering he wasn't guilty of the family's murder. No one knew of their history in Driftwood; to the locals they were newcomers to the area, and that made their lives very peaceful. It was a welcome change compared to what they had endured in Goldbury. The north had provided all that she and William had wanted in their lives, and more.

William gathered a wriggling, chortling child under each arm, his boots squelching up the front path, all of them now dripping wet from running around in the rainstorm. He found it strange Anne hadn't come out to greet him, as it was normally her routine once she spotted him in the garden playing with the children. He hoped she wasn't feeling unwell again; this pregnancy was taking quite a toll on her.

Stepping through the front door he gently placed the children down and directed them to get out of their wet clothes and into the tub, which he knew Anne would have already filled. A warm smile crossed his lips as he spotted his beautiful wife asleep in the rocking chair he'd made her. He removed his wet clothes down to his drawers, and tiptoed towards her. Kneeling down in front of her, he tenderly rested his hands upon her swollen belly, gazing longingly at her exquisite face. Anne's beauty never ceased to amaze him, her inner spirit as beautiful as her appearance. He was one lucky man to have such an enchanting wife.

Sensing his presence, Anne blinked open her sleep-heavy eyes, grinning as she spotted a sopping wet William knelt in front of her, singing softly to her belly. She leant in and cupped his face, placing a light kiss on his lips. ‘Will. Why are you half naked and shivering like you've got your feet in cold water?'

His intense gaze met hers and he flashed a smile. ‘Well, hello, my sleeping princess.' He stood, gently pulling her to stand with him without uttering another word. He rested his lips against her ears, exhaling slowly, sending shivers all over her skin. ‘Will and Mary are in the bathroom and I want to make love to my wife.'

Anne smiled wantonly as she stepped back and slowly brought her long skirt up, revealing her lack of bloomers. The yearning in William's eyes grew powerful. Biting her lower lip, she dropped her skirt and traced her finger down her lace bodice, slowly loosening it so her full breasts became free. She gestured for him to join her with a delicate curl of her index finger, watching with pleasure as William removed his drawers. His muscular body was now tense with anticipation, his manhood long, thick and firm. He took a step forwards, his hands reaching for her breasts as he brought his warm mouth down upon them, his tongue tracing the outline of her nipples with seductive precision. Anne arched her back as she fought to pull up the length of her skirt, her breath now escaping her in gasps. She ran her fingers down his back, as she pressed herself into him.

Sensing her yearning, William brought his lips to her mouth, exploring her tongue with his, as he slowly pushed himself deep inside her, centimetre by centimetre, so he could feel every pulse of her around him, her moans of pleasure fuelling his ravenousness for her sweet nectar. The thunder of the rain as it hammered the tin roof added to the passion of the moment. With desire building, he began to thrust faster as Anne clutched his back, her body shuddering satisfyingly and her heaven gripping him as she climaxed. He whispered her name as he reached heights with her, wishing he could instead scream it out loud for the world to hear, his legs barely holding him as he tipped over the edge of ecstasy. They clutched one another, sharing a few passionate kisses and confirming their undying love for each other before untwining, the duties of dinner and parenting calling them in different directions.

Anne placed the last of the cutlery on the timber table William had made as the sound of a horse and cart on the gravel outside grabbed her attention. Joey and Abby had arrived from their long day in Driftwood gathering supplies. She smiled as Will and Mary bounded from the cottage, the rain now eased, the elated squeals of the children as they said their hellos heart-warming. Wiping her hands on her apron she joined William at the front door, eager to chat to Abby after not seeing her friend for almost a week, the distances and hazardous man-made roads between their properties making it hard for frequent visits.

Joey emerged from the back of the cart, the pair of boots poking out beside him indicating there was a body laid out on the back. Abby quickly ushered the children inside, giving Anne a ‘don't ask' look and a quick peck on the cheek as she passed.

Suspecting a problem, William protectively but gently pushed Anne back inside, closing the door behind him as he motioned towards Joey. ‘What in the hell's happened, Joey? Have you run someone down in the dark?' He stopped beside a bug-eyed Joey, his own eyes widening as he spotted who it was.

A familiar face stared back at him, the unkempt man's breath laced putridly with stale alcohol, his clothes and grubby hair creating an unbathed stench. William covered his mouth while at the same time pushing down the bile that was threatening to rise. ‘Ben? Is that you?'

The man lifted his head slightly and tried to answer with a slurred voice, failing miserably as he flopped back down again, his eyes rolling around in his head like marbles as he gabbled something incomprehensible.

Joey, hands on hips, eyebrows furrowed, huffed, ‘Will, you're not going to like this one bit. I found Ben down at the Southern Cross Hotel big-noting himself, carrying on about how he was looking for his wanted bushranger buddy and asking if anyone had seen him,
and
telling anyone who'd listen that this bushranger mate had killed a man with his bare hands.' Joey jabbed Ben in the side, waking him up as the slovenly man spluttered something loudly and then collapsed backwards once again into a drunken slumber. ‘Anyway, it was a fortuitous coincidence I was there, so I thought quick and told everyone in the bar he was my half-brother and he wasn't all there in the head. It seemed to satisfy the captivated audience. I thought I'd better bring the bastard back here to ease any suspicions and before he blows all our covers.

‘We've worked hard at leaving things in the past, Will, and I don't want Ben here dragging it all back up again. If the coppers in town get wind of who we really are they'll bloody arrest us quick smart.' Joey dropped his voice to a whisper. ‘Besides, I didn't think anyone knew about Hocking, other than me, of course.'

Will released his held breath forcefully. ‘Christ, it would have been all over the newspapers, and maybe he's just put two and two together, knowing how much I hated Hocking. Who knows?' William gruffly ran his hands over his face. ‘I don't want Anne finding out about Hocking. I'm not proud of the fact I've killed a man. And in case I get caught, the less she knows the better.'

William slapped Ben harshly across the face in a bid to bring him to some kind of sense. It seemed to work as Ben pushed himself up to sitting, a wonky smile on his cracked lips as he swayed precariously on the back of the cart. ‘Will? I want more money from that job,
hic
, we did on Ronald Barrington otherwise,
hic
, I'm going to the,
hic
, traps about what you did to Hocking.' He belched a stench like rotten eggs.

William grabbed Ben's jaw with one hand while his other hand wrapped around his throat. Choking and spluttering, Ben tried to fight him off, his hands flapping about, aiming for William, but missing every time. William stood fast, unwavering, his fury rising, as he demanded Ben's undivided attention with his bloodcurdling stare. ‘Now you listen here, Ben. There's no proof I killed Hocking, so you haven't got a leg to bloody stand on. And with the Barrington heist, well, we all went equal shares in that money and I'm not giving you a penny more. If you're down and out and in need of food, clothes and shelter I'll give you work so you can earn your keep but that is as far as I'll go. And this is all under the condition that you hold your tongue and don't speak to another living soul about my dealings in Goldbury. With the cheek of you, I should give you a good lashing and then put a bullet in your back. At the moment, I'm mighty obliged to do so, so I'm warning you, don't give me a reason to do it.'