Breakaway Creek. Heather Garside

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СКАЧАТЬ that, conversation was stilted. When Molly brought in a fresh pot of tea Emma watched the maid curiously, thinking she wasn't as dark-skinned as the two stockmen she'd seen riding out with the men. Perhaps Molly wasn't fully Aboriginal.

      The Aboriginals had a camp further down the creek but there appeared to be only half-a-dozen who lived there, including women and children. On afternoon walks Emma had observed them from a distance, intrigued by the way they cooked and socialised around open campfires. With regret she noted the rough shelters of corrugated iron dotted amongst their bark gunyahs, and suspected European influence was perhaps spoiling their traditional culture.

      Emma was relieved when they were able to take their leave of the senior Baxters. Reluctant to criticise her cousin's in-laws, she waited for Lucy to comment on the visit.

      'Mrs Baxter makes me feel inadequate,' Lucy confessed. 'She works so hard - I don't think she ever stops to indulge herself in any way. She never reads, apart from the bible, and when she sits at night she's always busy with needlework.'

      'It sounds a dull way to live.' Emma slipped her arm through her cousin's. 'You don't need to be like that, Lucy. Don't lose your ability to laugh and enjoy life.'

      Lucy stopped in mid-stride, turning surprised eyes to Emma's face.

      'You know, you're right. Too bad if she thinks I'm a flibbertigibbet - I don't want to be like her. It's as if she's martyred herself for her house and family.'

      That summed her up precisely, Emma thought. Had Sarah always been that way, or had life sapped the joy from her? She'd found the visit disheartening and she wondered how Alex endured living in a house that seemed full of unhappy undercurrents. Being an adopted son must make it even harder for him.

      ****

      The afternoon had made Emma appreciate just how lonely Lucy's life must be. There was so little friendship to be had from Lucy's mother-in-law, so Emma set out to compensate. The two girls occupied their time with housework, sewing, and walking by the creek. Their enjoyment of each other's company made mundane tasks pass pleasantly. On Sunday, with George at last free to join them, the picnic came to fruition as promised. When he drove the buggy up to the house to collect them, Alex accompanied him on horseback.

      'Look who I talked into coming with us,' George indicated his brother with a grin. 'Thought I could do with some male support. A chap gets tired of all this girlish chatter.'

      Lucy tossed him an indignant look.

      'That's hardly fair, George. You spend so much time working, we seldom see you.' But she welcomed Alex, who swung off his horse to greet Emma with a warm smile. 'Of course we'd love to have you, Alex.'

      As he took the picnic basket from Emma's hands, Alex touched his hat in his gentle, courteous way. He smiled as his brother and sister-in-law exchanged their banter. Then he turned away to place the basket in the buggy, all without speaking. With fingers tingling from the brief contact, Emma wondered how a man could be so quiet, yet command so much of her attention.

      George drove the buggy down the creek to a waterhole Emma hadn't visited before. The men lit a fire and set the billy to boil while the girls laid out the food on a large checked tablecloth. George twisted a leafy branch from a tree and used it to brush away the flies. He seemed to be in a teasing mood.

      'It's been jolly rough, Alex. I don't know what these women find to talk about all day, but they're still at it when I get home at night. I warn you, cobber - when you get married, don't let your wife's relatives come to stay.'

      'George!' Lucy tapped her fingers sharply on his arm. 'Don't be so mean to our guest.'

      Alex smiled and rubbed his clean-shaven chin.

      'I don't like to side with the ladies, George, but Lucy's spent a lot of time with no one to talk to.'

      'There you go, George.' Lucy flashed him a triumphant smile. 'See, Emma. I told you Alex was a darling.'

      Alex coloured and looked down at his boots. George muttered something good-natured about traitors and added some wood to the fire. Though it hadn't been exactly what Lucy had said, Emma didn't correct her. Lucy was right: her parents wouldn't approve of Alex as a suitor for her. But the more she got to know him the less inclined she was to care.

      Chapter Four

      Alex waited at the creek bank as Emma walked down the path towards him. The afternoon sun reflected off her pale blouse and straw hat and glinted gold in the brown hair that tumbled down her back. Little clouds of dust puffed about her feet as she walked, soiling her trailing hemline. She looked almost pretty, her face soft with anticipation, her trim waist defined by the snug band of her skirt. His body stirred, reminding him of all the reasons why he shouldn't be doing this.

      From the first he'd known it would be unwise to spend much time with her. But Emma hadn't been easily discouraged. It had become her habit to stroll outdoors when the worst of the heat was over and she'd seemed to take a fancy to him. She had sought him out as he unsaddled his horse after work, or joined him as he fed the working dogs and chained them to their kennels. And then, fool that he was, he had asked her to meet him at the creek each afternoon when he'd finished work. He preferred the privacy here, away from the watching eyes of his family. He wasn't being deliberately secretive, he told himself, but why attract their attention?

      Even so, he'd caught a few worried glances from George. Perhaps he was making fools of himself and Emma both, but for now he wasn't prepared to put a stop to their friendship. He wasn't sure of Emma's feelings towards him, but her presence here was all the encouragement he needed.

      The first time he'd seen her at George and Lucy's wedding he had liked the look of her, but expected they'd have nothing in common. It turned out he was wrong. Her fascination with the bush seemed to draw him out. He loved sharing his knowledge of animals, not only the horses and cattle he worked with but also the native creatures which lived around them. She'd learned to recognise various bird calls and the tracks left in the sand as the animals came to the creek to drink. He showed her a wood duck's nest amongst the reeds and together they watched when the tiny ducklings hatched. Today, as they sat on the bank he pointed out the ducklings swimming behind their mother, one of them hitching a ride upon her back.

      She watched in rapt enjoyment before giving him a smile that made his skin grow warm.

      'You see so much. How did you learn all these things?'

      He shrugged.

      'I live with them every day. The Aboriginals taught us, too. We all spent a lot of time at their camp when we were kids and the women took us hunting with them.'

      'I thought the men were the hunters.'

      'For big game like kangaroos, yes. But the women catch snakes and goannas, find grubs and eggs, dig up yams - things like that.'

      Her eyes widened.

      'Did you ever eat their food?'

      He laughed.

      'What do you think? We were game to have a go at anything. Besides, you accept what you grow up with.'

      'I'm not sure I could stomach it,' she shuddered. 'Do the Aboriginals still hunt?'

      He shook his head.

      'Not so much these days, except when СКАЧАТЬ