Breakaway Creek. Heather Garside

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СКАЧАТЬ And she was such a snob! Personally, Emma liked Mrs Dexter, appreciating her down-to-earth manner and absence of airs and graces.

      Fortunately, Emma's merchant father was too engrossed in business affairs to be bothered with her mother. Henry Watson looked up from his papers long enough to take but a fleeting interest in Emma's plans.

      'The girl's your cousin - I can't see any objections to the visit. A change of scenery may help you appreciate what's been offered to you here.'

      Emma recoiled inwardly. Her father was referring to his intention to marry her to the son of a business associate. It didn't matter to him that she cringed every time Cyril Timms came near. Money and position in society were important, not girlish fancies about marrying for love.

      She was determined not to marry Cyril Timms, but so far she hadn't found the courage to tell her father. Most of the time he seemed remote, even disinterested, but she knew from experience how quickly he could erupt into a rage if crossed. At least this visit to Central Queensland would postpone the inevitable confrontation.

      ****

      A month later her ship entered the muddy Fitzroy and steamed up-river, finally dropping anchor at the port of Rockhampton. She hung over the rail, her stomach a flurry of nerves as she took in the hive of activity on the wharf. Piles of sacks, barrels and wooden crates lined the dock and a host of wagons, buggies, sulkies and gigs waited to meet the steamer.

      Emma anxiously scanned the crowd for a familiar face, wondering what she'd do if Lucy wasn't there. Her cousin had promised to meet her but it was a long journey by train from Breakaway Creek. Emma's companion, Mrs Dexter, had been kind, but was leaving her to travel on to Mount Morgan with her husband.

      'Of course it's no trouble to meet you. I seize any excuse to come to Rockhampton for shopping,' Lucy had written. 'George is wonderfully indulgent. He knows I find it lonely on the property at times.'

      Stepping onto the wharf, relief made Emma light-headed as she spotted her cousin clutching her husband's arm. Lucy's petite figure was dwarfed by a wide-brimmed straw hat with a cluster of pink fabric flowers stuck in the crown. With his drooping, fair moustache, George was ruddy and good-natured, the silver watch-chain across his waistcoat glinting in the bright sunlight.

      'Emma!' Lucy enveloped her in a warm hug, her face flushed with excitement. 'It's so wonderful to see you.'

      She stepped back and surveyed Emma's dark green travelling dress.

      'You look so pretty in that colour. You remember George, don't you?'

      'Of course.' She'd been bridesmaid at their wedding after all and she liked George. Emma extended her hand. 'How do you do, Mr Baxter?'

      He pressed her hand, smiling broadly.

      'I'm so pleased you could come, Miss Watson. Lucy's been looking forward to it for a long time.'

      'We're staying at the Criterion Hotel,' Lucy informed her. 'We catch the train back to Clermont tomorrow evening. That will give us time for shopping tomorrow. I know you'll find the stores here rudimentary, but please indulge me. They're the best I've had access to for a while.'

      Still reeling from her latest shopping expedition with her mother in Brisbane, Emma was inclined to think the pastime overrated, but she wouldn't disappoint her cousin. Of course, Lucy was a much more congenial companion than her mother, who was too concerned with creating the right impression to be able to enjoy clothes for their own sake.

      'I'm sure we'll have a splendid time,' Emma replied. Her enthusiasm was only partly feigned.

      That evening, Lucy came to her hotel room before they went downstairs for dinner.

      'I just had to come and tell you my exciting news.' Her round face beamed but she lowered her voice, even though they were alone in the room. 'I'm expecting a happy event in January.'

      A little thrill ran through Emma.

      'Oh Lucy, how wonderful!' She glanced at Lucy's middle and knew she was blushing. 'I thought you'd put on weight - I should have guessed. What does Mr Baxter think of this?'

      'He's delighted, naturally. Only our family know, at this stage - I've written to Mother and Father. But I had to tell you.'

      Emma didn't like to ask if her cousin was concerned at the prospect of motherhood in the bush, so far from medical help. At least Lucy had her mother-in-law for support.

      'George is hoping for a boy,' Lucy prattled on. 'To inherit Breakaway Creek after him.'

      Emma looked at her sharply.

      'Doesn't he have an older brother? I remember meeting him at the wedding.'

      It was hard to forget him. Alexander Baxter, or Alex as everyone had called him, had made an impression with his quiet manners and steady dark eyes. She had spoken to him only briefly, but she'd found herself wishing she could get to know him better. Hopefully she would remedy that during her visit with the Baxters.

      'Oh, Alex.' Lucy sounded dismissive. 'He's not really George's brother. He's some sort of cousin, I think. He was orphaned and Mr and Mrs Baxter raised him as their own.'

      That explained why Alex didn't physically resemble the other fair-haired Baxters. Lucy had been struck by his almost-black hair, dark brown eyes and smooth, tanned skin that bore none of the freckles that characterised his siblings. He was also a few inches taller than his brother.

      'So he's not really a Baxter at all?'

      Lucy shrugged.

      'I'm not sure. He's known as Alexander Baxter and everyone treats him as one of the family, but George assures me he'll never own Breakaway Creek. He's the overseer now, and George is happy for things to stay that way once he takes over from his father.'

      In other words, Alex didn't have prospects, Emma thought, conscious of her parents' ambitions for her. What a shame.

      The train journey to Clermont was hot, tiring and dirty. Coal dust blew in the open windows, stinging their eyes and leaving a fine gritty layer on their skin and clothes. The leather seats grew hard and more uncomfortable as the night wore on. Emma barely slept, but she was too excited at the prospect of visiting her first cattle station to mind.

      She and Lucy had spent a pleasant day shopping in Rockhampton's East Street. Although the town's amenities compared poorly to Brisbane's, they'd found several decent stores, James Stewart and Co. in particular. Emma had enjoyed helping Lucy select fabrics and wool to make garments for the coming baby and maternity clothing for herself.

      They arrived in Clermont in the early morning. From the railway station Emma was able to look down the hill to the centre of town, which appeared to be built on both sides of a large lagoon. When she voiced her surprise at the size of the town, George informed her that the surrounding goldfields were booming, leading to an influx of people and increased prosperity for business.

      After a breakfast of steak and eggs in the railway refreshment rooms, George left them to wait while he fetched the double buggy and horses from the livery stables. On his return, he loaded their luggage, stowing it with the three swags that already occupied the space under the seats.

      'The trip to Breakaway Creek takes two days,' Lucy said as Emma looked apprehensively at the swags. 'We'll camp beside the road tonight.'

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