through suddenly dry lips.
“You're so brave.” Fiona clasped her hands together.
“Glad you think so. I might take a ride out along our eastern boundary. Ian mentioned seeing clouds of dust there yesterday afternoon, but he was too busy to investigate.”
She saddled the horse and rode off with a cheerful wave. The wind picked up, so she tightened the chinstrap on her hat and urged her mount into a gallop. She had missed this freedom while moping around the homestead.
The leaves on the gum trees sent out a strong scent of eucalyptus and the last dying blooms of the golden wattle drifted down on the wind. A few pink-breasted galahs and brightly colored parrots flew about amidst the scrub. At dusk, every tree and fence post would be covered with squawking bird life. The air hung heavy with perfume from the massed, creamy blossoms of the prickly box that covered the hillsides along the farthermost boundary of their property.
Strange, no cattle grazed in the paddocks. Hadn’t Ian mentioned moving them over this way? Following the sagging boundary fence along, she gasped in shock on coming across a broken down section. “Why didn’t you maintain the fences properly?” she raged out loud at her absent, irresponsible brother. Someone had rustled all their cattle.
They only had a few sheep and pigs left now. I'll have to go hunting, rabbits are plentiful and parrot pie was supposed to be nice too. Fortunately, she was an expert shot as their father had instructed her and Ian together.
“You need to be able to protect yourself in this God forsaken colony,” he’d stated. An American with little love for this country, he tolerated it because he hoped to make his fortune on the gold fields. This never happened. With a delicate wife and two children to support he could never raise the required capital to pay their fares back home.
The youngest of three sons, Matthew Saunders had chosen a military career, graduating from West Point near the top of his class. After fighting in some Mexican war he became disillusioned and went to California searching for gold. When he didn’t find it, he journeyed to Australia, hoping to dig up a fortune in Ballarat. Like thousands of others, his dream ended in bitter disappointment.
She sighed on recalling the last few years of his life. Things had been tough for them until he found a teaching position in a prestigious private school. Ian’s biological father had died when he was quite young, and within three years of his death, their mother had married Matthew and Jo had been born. Four years ago, their mother had died of pneumonia, and their father followed his beloved wife to the grave a couple of years later.
Giving herself a mental shake, she pulled herself back to the present, and headed for home. Chores needed to be done before sundown. Ian had stocked the woodpile with logs, but she needed to split them. While she proved barely adequate with an axe, Fiona was hopeless. Fortunately her sister-in-law excelled in cooking, and would do all the household jobs while Jo kept the farm running. So much to do and virtually no-one to help her. Somehow, she still needed to find time to start up the school and keep an eye on poor little Mary Smith.
On the ride home, she stopped to check the pigs, six sows that Ian had recently acquired. He could not afford a boar, but one of their neighbors generously loaned them his. With any luck, some little piglets might be on the way already. Watching them rolling around in the mud pool Ian had dug for them, she shuddered. Revolting creatures, but bacon tasted good as long as you didn’t dwell on where it came from.
Tomorrow I'll go over to see Mary Smith. Straightening her shoulders, she gave herself a lecture. You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Jo Saunders, look at the comfortable home you live in compared to that unfortunate girl. Count your blessings.
She arrived home to find a laden cart, a lean miserable horse between the shafts,