Fiery Possession by Margaret Tanner Page B

pulled up in the front yard. Hawkers sometimes called on isolated settlers. Tethering her horse, Jo walked towards the homestead, her booted feet making no sound on the ground.
    “I don't want to buy anything, thank you. Please go.”
    “Listen Missus.”  The scruffy individual argued with Fiona. He was dark skinned, probably an Afghan, dressed in some kind of filthy robe affair. Making sure her hair remained tucked into her hat, Jo stuck her hands into her pockets and took up what she hoped was a masculine pose.
    “You heard my wife.” She deepened her voice. “Leave before I set the dogs on you.  We don't want your wares.”
    “The Missus say she buy.”
    “I didn't, honestly.” Fiona’s lips trembled.
    “Are you going to leave or not?”  Jo rocked back on her heels. “The gun, my dear, I mean business, Mister, git.”
    The hawker shook his fist at them and bared his teeth in a snarl.
    “Get the gun, Fiona.”
    The man shambled off. Close up he appeared even more horrible, and a rancid stench lingered after he passed by.
    In two steps, she made it to Fiona’s side. Over her shoulder, Jo watched the man climb into the cart and whip up the horse, leaving a cloud of swirling dust behind him.
    “You were wonderful.” Fiona giggled. “You should have seen the look on his face when you turned up. I told him I was on my own, probably why he turned nasty and wouldn't go. He threatened me, said he'd burn all our wheat.”
    Jo gave an angry snort. “Despicable types like him play on gullible women on their own, they'd sell nothing otherwise. Their merchandise is inferior rubbish. They give reputable merchants a bad name.”
    “I shouldn’t have been so silly. I didn't think.”
    “No harm done.” Jo spoke the words quietly, trying to hide her exasperation. How could a grown woman be so foolish? “Mm, something smells nice.”
    “Ginger cake. I’m sorry for being so stupid.”
    “Don't worry about it. Where's Lucy?”
    “In the bedroom playing with the blocks Ian made.”
    For dinner they shared cold mutton left over from yesterday and hot vegetables, finishing off with scones, spread with plum jam and freshly churned cream from their one house cow. She was grateful Fiona cooked so well, because if it was left to her they would probably starve.
    Later, after Lucy went to bed, they sat outside with a cup of tea.
    “I wonder where Ian is?”  Fiona mused.
    “He’s probably sitting around some camp fire listening to tall stories or singing songs. I wish I'd been born a man. Life is so much easier for them. They can do as they wish, whereas women are so restricted.”
    “I'm glad I was born a woman,” Fiona declared.
    “It's easier for you, you're so feminine and dainty men feel protective towards you.”
    “They would to you except you act so self-assured it frightens them off. Men want to be the boss and a clever woman lets them think they are.”
    Jo laughed at this piece of wisdom. Perhaps there was more to Fiona than she had previously thought.
    They passed a pleasant hour or so sitting on the porch, enjoying the cool evening breeze blowing down from the mountains, and hearing the night creatures going about their business. The low mournful cry of a wild dog calling to its mate trembled on the air, and a nearby mopoke took up the cry.
    Fiona clutched Jo's arm. “Let's go inside, they sound so spooky.”
    “All right.”  The night sounds held no fear for her, but today had been hectic. Sudden weariness washed over her. Tomorrow would be another busy day.
     
    ***
     
    Jo awoke next morning feeling refreshed. After a quick wash, she dressed in shirt and breeches and strode outside to split some kindling for the fire. By the time Fiona got up, Jo managed to have their porridge cooking.
    After breakfast she finished the milking, fed the dogs, prepared mush for the pigs and filled the copper with water ready to boil up their weekly wash.
    “Why don’t you take Mary some of the clothes Lucy’s