Ella Page 12

  “No. Papa thought, that is, he had a great dislike of water.”

  “Have you ever eaten fish?”

  “To deny myself that pleasure would be taking my dislike of water to pointless extremes. I’ll make the tea.”

  “Maybe we’ll have fish for dinner tonight. What do you think, Jed? Good tucker in the water?”

  Jed nodded enthusiastically.

  “Good.” Cal accepted a mug of tea from Ella. “Because I’m relying on you to show me how to spear a fish. I’ve never done it, though I’m quite an expert yabby catcher.”

  Jed stared at him in query.

  “A yabby.” Cal spread his hands about eight inches apart, wondering how to describe the freshwater crayfish. “Two claws, hard shell. We catch them with bait on a piece of string, or that’s what I did when I was a lad.”

  “Yabby,” Jed repeated with disdain. “Woman get.” He thumped his chest with his palm. “Man get big fish.”

  Cal grinned. “Right. Ella can be the yabby catcher.”

  She gave him a wary look but didn’t answer. Instead, she rose and rinsed her cup at the water’s edge. Cal followed suit with his. Within minutes they’d repacked and set off again.

  Before too long the gorge started to rise on either side of the river. The flow of water grew narrower and faster. Ella stuck closer to his side than Girl. Once she came so near that her leg snagged his. His entire body quickened. He dismounted, his concentration lost. For some time he’d been trying to trail Jed, who had run farther and farther ahead until he had disappeared from view. He’d left no tracks, and Cal could see no tracks from the stolen horses either. He stopped Ella’s horse.

  “What’s wrong?” Ella too dismounted. Not only did his lust for her increase hourly, but also did his liking, for she let her horse rest as often as possible. The gelding took the opportunity to tear at the grass growing head height on the steep embankment.

  “I’ve lost the trail. Stay here and I’ll check in the scrub.”

  She shivered. “Not on your life. I don’t want to be left by a river alone.”

  “This river isn’t dangerous.”

  “Ha. Bunyips are everywhere. ‘Wither thou goest’… Well, you know what I mean.”

  He put his hands on his hips, scanning her expression. Since she knew Bunyips were imaginary she must be afraid of snakes. “Come on then, but I warn you it’s a fair climb. We’ll tether the horses down here. That will be easier than dragging them up and urging them down again.”

  The grassy knoll was steep and they arrived at the top with dirty hands and breathing heavily. Ella kept close by Cal as he searched the surrounding bushland for a sign of organized passage. He found nothing. Had he been told that no foot before his had ever touched this area, he would have believed every word. The scrub grew thickly with stringy bark trees that had spread from their bases as if to let the sun shine through their growth to the ground below. In groups, river gums, resplendent with cream and burgundy streaks throughout their lengths, presided over the land.

  “We are agreed that no one has passed through this area?”

  She nodded, gazing at him as if she needed to read his expression.

  “We’ll go down to our horses and backtrack.”

  “You don’t think the thieves might have crossed the river, do you?” Her voice rose on the last word as she slid down the knoll behind him.

  “It’s the only conclusion. Unless they veered off in one of the rocky areas.”

  As if he couldn’t hear the anxiety in her voice, he led his horse along the muddy embankment, scanning for tracks. He saw only their own, distinct because of Girl’s paw prints.

  “I think it’s about half an hour to the last rocky area,” Ella said from behind him. “So we will have lost another hour.”

  The shadows had lengthened. He wanted to find the trail before dusk and a good campsite before nightfall. Most of all, he hoped Jed would return. He didn’t want to be left alone overnight with a woman who repaid favors with the delights of her body.

  They arrived at the rocky area she had mentioned in about the time she had estimated and he saw their tracks. “Stay there and don’t move.” He passed the reins of his horse to her. “If there is any sign here, I don’t want to miss it.” He had to backtrack to the very beginning of the riverside rocks to see the last trace of the thieves and the Beaufort horses.

  From there he inspected almost every blade of grass on the embankment and found nothing. He peered at each rock along the shoreline. Some had been disturbed but he couldn’t say that hadn’t happened as he and Ella had passed through the first time. With intense concentration, he checked again and found a path of rocks leading into the water. He scanned the surrounding terrain and discovered rocklike indentations in the silt. Lifting his head, he said, “I think they moved the stones from here and made a nice little hidden path into the river.”

  “And then they crossed.” She led the horses from her instructed position, staring to the other side of the river. “It’s narrow here and deep.”

  “I would say they swam across.”

  “Which I can’t do.”

  “Not a problem.” He smiled tightly. “You can go back to the homestead and have a good night’s sleep.”

  “Hmm. We should arrive back at about midnight.”

  “You, not we.”

  “Oh? I should ride along this uneven trail in the dark alone?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “If you’d set off with Jed, you would be alone now.”

  “I don’t plan to swim across a river in my riding clothes.”

  “Stay on your horse. He can swim. You can cling on.”

  “The saddles will get wet. The food will get wet. That’s a very silly idea.”

  “You have two choices,” he said, with forced patience. “You can go back now and leave me to go on. Or you can come with me, in which case you’ll need to cross the river because I plan to cross the river here, where the thieves did.”

  “I’m sure we can find a shallower place to cross.”

  “We’ve lost an hour as it is. This is the place we should cross.”

  “Why are you so determined to make me go into the water?” She leaned back, crossing her arms.

  “You could take the other choice. If you’re not prepared to follow the trail, you shouldn’t have come. You should be at home where you belong.”

  With a firm expression, she mounted her horse.

  “Where do you think you are going?” He grabbed her horse’s reins.

  “To find a more suitable place to cross.”

  “Give me the food bundle.”

  “You cross here and I’ll cross wherever I can find shallower water. If you meet me on the other side—”

  He dragged her horse over to his and leaped into his saddle. “Give me the food bundle, damn you.”

  She glared at him. “Damn you,” she said distinctly. “While I have the food, I know you’ll meet me.”

  Experiencing a flare of justified anger, he leaned over and snatched her bedroll. “Trust me,” he said through gritted teeth, clasping the food bundle under his arm.

  He clapped his heels to his horse. At the same time, he jerked on her reins. Her horse balked, almost sitting on its haunches. He gave a war whoop and tried again. With a roll of his eyes, her horse went from a standing start to a bolt into the river. Screaming, Ella clung to the saddle with both hands. His horse followed and together both animals sped into the water, churning foam before them. Holding the bedroll at shoulder height, he twisted the reins of Ella’s horse around his wrist.

  “Leave go,” Ella shrieked. “Let me be. Let me be!” She tried to grab back her reins, but his hold was firm and his mind set.

  The water flowed above his knees. Ella sat rigidly clasping her saddle, her eyes clamped shut, her forehead creased, and her mouth stretched. Girl swam behind, struggling slightly to keep up. The river held no mystery for her. She swam with
Cal every day. Ella’s fury doused his, although he doubted the river was more than five feet deep. He felt only a gentle tug of water as the horses swam.

  His horse stumbled slightly as his hooves touched the river bottom. Soon both horses walked on the rocky silt as if they too swam every day. Girl braced her feet and shook off her excess water. Ella sat, head lowered and gasping. Water dripped from the skirt of her gown. “I’ll never forgive you for that.” Her eyes flashed with fury. “Never.”

  “So, you’re wet.” He shrugged, puzzled by her overreaction. “You’ll be dry within an hour.”

  She lifted her head. “Don’t speak to me. I’m far too...” Her breathing came in short bursts. “Mad.”

  Now annoyed, he planted his fists on his hips. “I wonder how you think I feel, knowing you thought I might steal your food. I’d say we’re quits.”

  He passed back her reins. Without another word, he began looking for tracks. Finally he vindicated himself. Farther up the river, he found the trail they had lost.

  Chapter 10

  Ella knew her failings and she couldn’t credit that Cal had forced her into the water against her wishes, that he had been so determined to have his way when she couldn’t have made more obvious the fact that she could find a suitable crossing.

  In a loaded silence she stayed with him as he stalked the tracks he had found. She saw only the most obvious signs, blatant hoof prints in the silt or, in some cases, boot prints. Cal noticed far more. Where the trail veered into the bushland he examined broken twigs and once, when the terrain appeared completely undisturbed by man or beast, she saw him lift off a bush a strand of hair long enough to be from the tail of a horse. Every now and again she deliberately stilled her hands, which had a tendency to tremble.

  When the dusk cast a gray pall over the landscape, he lost the trail. “We’ll camp here for the night.” He stopped his horse in a flat stretch of dry summer grass.

  Every bone in her body ached, including in her toes. She’d spent more than ten hours on and off her horse, and for the past two hours she’d had to walk or ride in squelchy leather boots only because a bully had insisted. At least he’d kept the food dry. “Your wish is apparently my command.”

  She glanced at the oval of short grass surrounded by tall trees. Clear water flowed not fifty feet away. She slid from her horse and removed her saddle. Cal removed his. He unpacked the rope halters, which he substituted for the horses’ bridles, and brushed his horse down with a handful of fresh leaves. She followed suit. As the horses began to graze, she shook her saddle blanket to freshen the nap, as he did.

  “I’ll light a fire.” He began to collect small twigs.

  Determined to express nothing other than indifference, she collected a bundle of a more substantial size and dropped the broken branches beside the dry leaves he persuaded to smolder. He fed the smoke until a slender flare built into a crackling red flame, while she unrolled her blankets, finding the packed billy.

  He held out a hand. “Let me take that.”

  She passed the blackened tin to him and he left to collect water. She had the inclination to sit with her arms crossed, but instead she set out the cooking implements preparing to fry the remains of the bread in mutton fat. The sun had disappeared behind two hills and the air smelled dusty. Not a leaf rustled; not a bird called. She wiped at a trickle of perspiration in front of her ear, feeling the grittiness of her skin.

  Cal came back with the water and two forked sticks to suspend the billy over the fire. “If you don’t mind, I’m going to take a swim while the water boils.” He uncurled himself from his squat by the fire.

  She nodded. Hot and dirty she, too, would enjoy a good wash. Not, however, in a river. “Don’t let me stop you doing as you wish.”

  He turned and, with Girl following, strode to the river. On the bank, he stripped off his clothes. Ella watched, knowing she stared, knowing the thump in her chest comprised half admiration, half reluctant desire. The back view of his naked body, broad at the shoulders, lean at the hips, stood starkly white against the dark flow of the river. Like the last time he had stripped in front of her, he displayed no coyness, and this time no haste as he waded into the water. At knee depth, he finally dived.

  She hugged her legs and cushioned her cheek on her knees. Nothing seemed real. Never had she imagined she would sit and watch a naked man cavorting with his dog in a river. Cal surfaced and threw a stick for Girl. She brought the plaything back to him time after time, as if she hadn’t walked close to twenty miles that day. Ella could hear Cal’s laugh and she could see his broad grin. He loved being in the water and he had no fear. Perhaps if Papa hadn’t continually warned his daughters about the dangers of drowning, she would be relaxed in the river, too.

  While she had privacy, she walked into the bushland and found a discreet place to relieve herself. Upon her arrival back at the campfire, Cal had finished his swim. He stood by her blankets wearing his trousers, rubbing his chest dry with his shirt. His nipples had beaded into tight dots. Her abdomen clenched. This man appealed to her in a physical way that seemed doubly hard to bear, given that he wouldn’t act on his attraction to her. She lowered her head and turned away.

  “I would like to bathe, too,” she said in a low voice. “If you could promise not to look.”

  With an impassive face he pointed. “There’s a pool of water in that outcrop of rocks. It’s shallow and likely warmed. If you undress there, even if I try—and I won’t—I shan’t be able to see you. I’ll warn you if I see a bunyip lurking.”

  “Very funny.” She stood, collecting a cake of perfumed soap and her clean blouse. Her lips bundled, she strode toward the rock pool. If Cal believed that bunyips, rather than being out of her depth, frightened her, well and good. Not anxious to reveal her cowardice, she wouldn’t explain.

  She sat on the flattest of the rocks and removed her soggy boots and stockings, glancing in his direction. He squatted to fuel the fire, appearing to have no interest in her. With hasty jerkiness, she removed her clothes, curious as to why her fascination with his male body wasn’t reciprocated by his equal fascination with her female body. Her chest emptied with a soft sigh.

  After sliding into the foot-deep, tepid water, she washed all over. She rinsed, staying where she sat. The water had a relaxing effect on her tired muscles. When she leaned back and stared at the darkening sky her mind emptied. For a few minutes, she did nothing but slowly scoop water over her shoulders and flex her toes. Then, she filled her lungs with the hot night air and stood, sluicing the water from her body. As he had, she dried herself with her blouse and dressed in her fresh one. She also took the opportunity to wash the blouse and stockings she’d worn and, swinging them casually, walked barefooted back to the campfire, collecting river sand between her toes.

  He made the tea while she draped a couple of nearby bushes with her clothing. Maintaining her resentment of his autocracy, she sat on her blanket, placed her boots by the fire, and ungratefully sipped from the mug he handed her. “Since you don’t cook, I suppose I will be allowed to fry the bread.”

  “Wait.” He threw the dregs from his mug onto the ground. “I’ll try to catch a fish.” Pushing one hand deep into his pocket, he pulled out a rolled piece of twine ended with what was obviously a fishhook.

  “A man for all occasions,” she commented dryly.

  “I have amazing things in my pockets.” His gaze hooded with mystery. “Aside from rocks.”

  Her eyes met his in sudden surprise.

  He stared back, shrugged as if his revelation was of no consequence, and walked off.

  She sat gazing after him. His dog, far better trained than she would ever be, followed him without encouragement. For a moment she wondered if convincing her of his disinterest after that episode in the woolshed was a way of convincing himself. She leaned back on her palms.

  No doubt he had a reason for withholding his attentions from her. When she forgave him for the river epis
ode, she might decide to stop accepting his decisions.

  * * * *

  Cal knew he had made a big mistake. He hadn’t expected Jed to disappear. Although he could feed himself off the land, or go without if necessary, he couldn’t expect Ella to do the same. She was bone tired, any fool could see that, and she hadn’t recovered from being hauled through the river, another mistake on his part. She hadn’t minded the wetting; she simply didn’t like her objections being overborne. Nor did he and he would consider that in the future.

  If he could only catch a nice big fish as a peace offering, and if he could only treat her like another man... “Pah.” A swirling twig jerked in surprise and sidled away. “If I thought she was another man, I wouldn’t be standing here trying to impress her by stocking her dashed larder. I would...” He clamped his mouth. Had he been alone, he would eat the fried bread and tomorrow catch a bird, or a snake, or a lizard, or whatever came to hand and eat without another thought. Many a time he’d been out for a week or more with his grandfather’s stockmen living off the land during the sheer boredom of watching sheep day in and day out.

  The wilderness wouldn’t last forever. Tomorrow or the next day he would pass a settler’s cottage or farming land and he could easily enough ask for food. No traveler was sent away empty-handed in this harsh land. But here he stood, dangling his line into the river, hoping that a deluded fish would see his worm-baited hook as a temptation because a woman with a mind as quick as January challenged his masculinity. Rocks in his pockets! “Pah.”

  He shouldn’t have told her. Nor should he have imagined her undressing and washing. He visualized her smooth white body and the satin of her skin. The recollection of her response in the woolshed heated his blood.

  Tonight would be endless. He would see her eyes closed in sleep and he would long to savor her scent, her curves. His line straightened. Lost in thought, he almost let the twine slide between his fingers. At almost the last second he came to his senses and held on. Without too much difficulty he landed a small fish. Within minutes he landed the second. Relieved, and with the daylight almost gone, he took his spoils back to the campfire. One fish still jerked.