Fiery Possession (35 page)

“But now?”  He smiled, really smiled for the first time in all the months she had known him. And what a difference it made. There was a dimple in his chin. “You're upsetting yourself and you shouldn’t. You almost died. Several times we thought you would leave us.”

“I think I remember.”  She frowned in concentration. “I drifted away. I wanted to go but someone kept forcing me to stay. It was you, wasn't it?”

“Yes, it was me.”

“Why didn't you let me die?” 

His pale cheeks became bloodless, every vestige of color drained from his face. “Didn't you hear me before, don't you understand? I want you, Jo. You're mine. You were mine from the moment I first set eyes on you.”

“What about Cassandra?”

“Dead.”

“Dead!” she cried out. Her mouth dried up, her head started pounding and her whole body trembled. “I killed her.”

“No.”  He pushed the tumbled hair away from her face and smoothed her forehead with the flat of his thumb. “She fell into the river and drowned.”

“We struggled over the gun. It went off. I remember that, then falling. Everything is mixed up, riding a long way, my knees ached, my hands too.”

“You were trying to come over here. When we found you, you raved about someone taking the baby, pleading with them not to hurt him. For a while we didn't know who you were talking about until we realized it was Cassandra. You're exhausted, and must rest. We’ll talk some more later.”

“No, no, please, I've got to get it all sorted out in my mind or I'll go crazy. You slapped me, didn't you?”

“Yes, you almost lost consciousness. We had to find out what happened to the baby.”

“Where did Cassandra go?”

He didn't answer for a couple of minutes. When he did his voice carried no emotion.

“We searched everywhere, until one of the maids remembered her talking about a secret place where the fairies played. She was mentally unbalanced, living in a fantasy world of fairies and goblins.” He twisted one of Jo’s curls around his finger and stared at it. “We got a black tracker and followed her to the river. We found her standing on a log straddling the water. She danced and spun around as she clutched the baby, her feet slipped out from under her and she got swept away by a roaring torrent. The current ran strong.”

He moistened his lips with his tongue. “I tried to save both of them. None of the others would come into the water to help me. I've always been a strong swimmer, but I couldn't save two of them, so I had to let her go.”

“Oh, Luke.” Her heart overflowed with sympathy for him. What a dilemma for a man to face. He would be dogged with guilt for the rest of his life.

“I let my wife drown so I could save our son.”  He clenched his fists on the blankets. “Go to sleep now, when you're stronger we’ll talk again.”

When she awoke next, Mrs. Osborne sat on a chair by the bed knitting. “Ah, Miss

Jo, I'll get you some broth. You’re looking much better.”

“I feel better too, except I ache everywhere and my shoulder throbs. Am I badly hurt, I mean shot?”

“A couple of inches lower and you'd be dead, my girl, that's how close it came.”

The housekeeper pulled a bell cord, and within a short time a maid brought in some warm broth and started spooning it into Jo's mouth.

“For three days, your life hung in the balance.” Mrs. Osborne explained. “You'd be slipping away and Mr. Campton would beg you to stay, to fight like you fought him. He literally dragged you back from the brink.”

Jo swallowed a mouthful of soup. “Is the baby all right?”

“Yes, he's a fine little fellow, a healthier child you wouldn't find anywhere.”

“Would you bring him here so I can see for myself?”

“I can't, I’m sorry, the boss left strict instructions.  He’ll bring the little one in when the time is right.”

“There's something wrong with him. I know there is. That's why you won't let me see him.”  She clamped her lips shut and pushed the spoon away. “Why aren’t my breasts sore? I’ve lost all my milk.”

“You're acting foolish Miss Jo, the baby is all right. We’ve been expressing your milk.”

“I won't eat anything until I see Mark. If you won't bring him to me, I'll go and find him myself.”  She struggled to sit up. Ignoring the pain in her shoulder and the housekeeper's pleading, she swung her legs to the floor, just as Luke entered.

“What's going on in here?” he roared.

“Miss Jo wants to see the baby, won't eat until she does.”

It took two attempts before she could stand, and she had to grab on to the bedpost.

“You bloody little fool, are you trying to kill yourself?”  His powerful arms supported her as she started sinking to the floor.

“I'll get him if you stay in bed and eat the broth.” He put her back under the blankets. “When she's finished eating, let me know. I'll bring the child in then, but not a minute before.”

Jo ate as fast as her weakened state would allow. When the bowl was empty, the maid and Mrs. Osborne left the room. She lay there, expecting to hear Mark screaming, but there was no sound. Anxiously she watched the door open. Luke strode in cradling Mark in the crook of one arm.

“Bring him closer, please.”  

He sat on the bed. “See, he's hale and hearty, strong as a little ox.”

The baby’s eyes blinked sleepily. He had recently been fed, she could tell by his contented drowsy state. She couldn't hold him, she wasn’t strong enough, but her hand came out to stroke a rosy cheek and pat a damp tendril of hair. His feet poking out from his nightgown were bare.

“As you can see, he's been bathed and fed.”  Luke's eyes followed hers to the little pink toes. “Because of your impatience, he isn't fully dressed. Satisfied?”

Chapter fifteen

Jo had been a Kangaroo Gully for three weeks when Luke came striding into her bedroom one morning. “I have to take some cattle up into the high country to graze over the summer months.”

“But, Luke.” She didn’t want him to leave. How would she cope without him? Her nerves were shot to pieces. She still suffered nightmares and needed his strength and yes, kindness. He had been caring, considerate. Something she wouldn’t have believed possible a few weeks ago. He had put up with her tantrums, her weeping spells and depression without complaint. They had grown closer as a result of this and she didn’t want to lose this comradeship.

“It’s a tradition we’ve followed for years.”

“What about me?”

“What about you?  Mrs. Osborne is here to see to everything. I won’t be gone more than a few weeks. Besides your brother should be here soon.”

“You selfish bastard, you don’t care that I nearly died.”

“For God’s sake, stop whining,” he exploded. “I can’t sit around here doing nothing. There’s work to be done.”

“Go with your precious cattle, but I mightn’t be here when you get back.”

Without another word he stormed out of the bedroom, slamming the door as he went. Jo promptly burst into tears.

***

Three weeks after Luke left, Jo still moped about the homestead. She couldn’t understand it. Apart from her injured shoulder and arm, she felt sick, weepy and out of sorts. Luke didn’t care; he only wanted her in his bed. Until she got well enough to satisfy his carnal demands, he couldn’t even be bothered staying around.

He hadn’t mentioned marriage, even though he was now free to do so. Perhaps he wanted her to suffer a little more. Maybe he had no intention of marrying her at all and she would remain his mistress until he found someone else. What about Mark?  She feared for his future. Surely he wouldn’t allow his son to suffer, unless he planned to keep the baby and get rid of her.

She fretted and fumed at her inactivity. She was going mad doing nothing around this place. The only decent thing that had happened was the fact she hadn’t lost her milk and could still feed Mark. She loved holding him close, smelling his sweet baby scent and listening to his contented little snuffles as he suckled strongly.

One morning she went for a walk. She did not go far but found herself at the little family graveyard less than half a mile from the homestead. Five headstones stood in a neatly tended fenced off area. Tim Campton and Luke’s father Samuel. The grave of Sarah, Luke’s mother, sat a little apart from the others. Grass and wild flowers already sprang up around the mound of dirt forming Cassandra’s grave. Magpies called from the nearby trees, and bees buzzed in the clump of primroses planted near Sarah’s grave.

Standing in the peace and tranquility of the little cemetery she made the decision to leave Kangaroo Gully, and stay with Glory until Ian and Fiona arrived. Luke had written to Ian offering to help him build up the farm, and he had readily accepted. Why wasn’t he back here now, when she needed him?

She blinked back tears. Everyone has deserted me, she thought miserably. I have to get over this depression and weakness. Where’s your spirit woman?  Go to Glory. Stay there while you plan a future for yourself and Mark, away from Kangaroo Gully and Luke’s overpowering influence.

Once she made her decision, she acted on it. Much to Mrs. Osborne’s horror, she instructed one of the maids to pack her own and Mark’s things and organized for one of the men to drive them into town.

“But, Miss Jo, what will Mr. Campton say?”

“He can say what he likes. He doesn’t care about me or Mark.”

“Please, wait until he gets home.”  Mrs. Osborne wrung her hands. “He cares for you, I’m sure he does.”

“Well, he has a strange way of showing it. I’m sorry, Mrs. Osborne, you’ve been good to both Mark and me.”  Jo kissed her cheek. “I have to get away from here. I’ll stay with Glory until my brother gets back.”

As the buggy drove off she turned around and waved at Mrs. Osborne. The homestead stood serene and mellow against a backdrop of giant trees and well tended gardens. She sniffed back tears as she farewelled Kangaroo Gully for the last time.

***

Glory welcomed Jo back with open arms, asking no question until they sat in the private sitting room sharing a cup of tea. It did not take long for the story to pour out.

“Bloody Luke,” Glory exclaimed. “What’s wrong with the man?”

Jo wiped her wet cheeks. “I hate him.”

“I don’t think it’s hate you feel for him at all,” Glory said gently. “You probably haven’t even admitted this to yourself, but you love him.”

“No, I hate him.”

“If you hate him, why does his going away hurt so much?”

“I don’t know, but he’s so selfish and inconsiderate. Cares for no-one but himself.”

“Oh, my poor lamb.”  Glory waddled over and took Jo’s face between her plump hands. “Look me in the eye and tell me you hate him.”

“I… I…” the words would not come out.

“See, you can’t lie to me. I know you even better than you know yourself.”

***

Luke roused his men before the morning sun had even climbed from behind the mountains. The last few days had been sheer hell. He couldn’t sleep properly for thinking about the angry words he had exchanged with Jo, and weakness like this infuriated him.

Damn it all, didn’t she realize he had a large property to run?  He wasn’t the kind of man who left everything in the hands of an overseer. He liked to know exactly what happened, and he always enjoyed going on a drive and roughing it with the men.

As a boy, his father took him on a drive with half a dozen drovers and they moved twenty thousand sheep from Queensland into Victoria. They had been completely self- sufficient, with thirty or more horses, spare saddles, tents, food, and shoeing equipment. They even carried a small anvil.  What an experience that had been for him. He would never forget it.

When Mark got older, he would like to take him on a long drive, also. Maybe Jo could come with them.  The thought of sleeping out in the open with her in his arms, sharing their passion under the stars fired heat into his loins and launched knots of desire twisting and convulsing in his stomach.

When he returned to Kangaroo Gully, he would arrange their wedding. Hopefully Ian would have arrived by then as Jo would naturally want her family to be present when she married. He might even take her to Melbourne before their nuptials, so she could choose the best, most beautiful wedding gown money could buy. They would hold a large reception, and even though he despised them, old mother Kilvain and her cronies from the church would be invited when he made Jo his wife. That ought to keep their vicious tongues under control.

They made such excellent progress with the cattle that on the spur of the moment, he decided the men could continue on to the high country while he detoured and called in on Ferguson, one of his father’s cousins. It was a few miles out of his way, but for some time now he had been toying with the idea of trying to improve his breeding stock. With any luck, he might be able to persuade Ferguson to let him have a couple of his stud rams.

Three hours after he left his men, Luke passed over the ranges. Now he was in the flat country he couldn’t believe how dry things looked, and the further inland he went the worse it became. Leaves on the gum trees hung limply. Many were dry and curling up. Some of the topsoil had blown away, piling up into drifts by the side of the road. He had never witnessed anything as terrible as this before.