Ironbark (49 page)

‘Excuse me, gentlemen, while I borrow your mate for a few minutes.'

Jake had little choice. Reluctantly towed away to join the dancers, he was jolted by the painful memory of his first meeting with Jenny when she taught him to dance. He was struck by the thought that these musicians were playing the very same waltz. The two dances fused into one.

Conscious of holding Keziah in his arms in public for the very first time, Jake didn't hear a word she said. He could think of only one thing. Her deep neckline gave him a generous reminder of her naked bosom that night she had held his head and given him her body heat. Jake felt a strong desire to go there again. He reminded himself she was Daniel's wife and that he must watch his step.

Playfully Keziah tucked his long hair behind his ears. Jake avoided looking into her eyes, but was distracted by her equally dangerous mouth.

‘Hey! What are you up to, Kez?'

‘I've something important to tell you, Jake. About Daniel.'

When the waltz came to an end they crossed to rejoin the other
guests, but Jake saw his reprieve was short-lived.

In an inspired act of magic Joseph had brought a trio of roving
klezmer
musicians from Sydney Town and hired one of Scotty the Shepherd's fiddle-playing mates. Their music was a joyous blend of cultures – German, Yiddish, Italian, Hungarian and wild Celtic Irish.

Joseph and his bride stood nearby but Jake saw that his host was intently watching Keziah. One of the
klezmer
musicians began to sing a haunting melody in some foreign lingo Jake didn't recognise. The response from Keziah was instantaneous.

She gave a heartfelt cry. ‘Joseph! That's a Romani love song. My father's favourite!' Keziah clapped her hands like a delighted child.

Jake rolled his eyes.
Her Romani father! Jesus, she's forgotten who she is.

Her black taffeta gown with its lace collar was, at first glance, demure enough to be the Sunday best Saranna Plews might have worn, but when Keziah picked up the hem of her skirts, Jake glimpsed a flash of red petticoats and black silk stockings as she began to race towards the musicians.

He grabbed her arm and spun her around. ‘This is not
your
music, Saranna!'

Keziah's eyes widened, remembering her role. She gave a stifled cry of frustration and headed for the barn. Jake sauntered off in pursuit of her.
Jesus wept, I hope Daniel isn't on the prowl.

Closing the barn door behind him he leaned back against it, stunned by the sight of Keziah. He was glad his face was hidden in the shadows.

Moonlight fell in a pool in the centre of the barn. Transfixed by the magical sound of her Romani music and oblivious to the world, Keziah was dancing. Jake had never seen a dance like it. She shook her hair free, her heels beat out a rapid tattoo, her back arched proudly. One arm curved above her head, the other flicked the hem of her skirts, her scarlet petticoats. She tossed her hair to one side in a gesture of joyous
abandon, her eyes a passionate response to the music that dictated the rhythm of her body.

So this was Romani dancing!
Jake saw her dress slip from one shoulder but he knew that her movements were not deliberately seductive. The way Keziah danced transformed the demure black dress of Saranna the schoolteacher into a vision of an untamed Romani.

Jake felt his pulse racing, confused by the unwanted thought of Keziah in Daniel's bed.
Jesus wept. Just look at her. What man could resist her?

Outside the music built to a wild crescendo then died. Keziah seemed rooted to the spot, but she slowly returned to the reality of the barn and Jake's presence. She threw her arms wide, laughing like a naughty, runaway child who has returned home to find her absence undetected.

‘So now you know. That's how we dance. It's in our blood!'

‘Sorry you have to hide it from the rest of the world, Kez, but you can dance like that for Daniel anytime you want.'

Her words tumbled out. ‘No. Daniel's been invited by Julian Jonstone to study art in Sydney Town. All fees paid. It's Daniel's dream. I want him to go. He won't be coming back to me.'

Jake felt a rush of confusion. ‘Kez, be sensible. You can work it out together. You have to. He's your husband. You're married for life.'

When she shook her head emphatically, Jake grabbed her by the shoulders.

‘Go with him, God damn you!'

‘No! This is what Daniel wants. What I want. Our marriage is a farce.'

‘Bull! He told me you're the only woman he's ever loved.'

‘Yes. Like brother and sister, but I need my own man, Jake. Don't you see?'

Keziah stood on her toes like a little girl and held tight to the lapels of his coat. Then she kissed him full on the mouth like a very hungry
woman. This time there was no trace of wine on her breath. Just the sweet taste of apples.

Jake had a sudden urge to continue to drink her in. A wave of anger washed over him. What rotten timing. Daniel was leaving her. Keziah was more than willing. Jake felt a sudden wild need to go down on her. Bury his face in her breasts. Kiss her all night long. Drown in her. But it was too late. He could never be more than her friend.
Curse me for a prize fool. I promised I'd never lie to her.

He held her at arm's length and forced himself to say the words. ‘I got word from the Yankee. Jenny's arrived back from New Zealand. I'm gunna leave for Melbourne Town right after this shindig.'

Keziah caught her breath and stepped back. She gave him a tremulous smile. ‘Well, I can't say I'm surprised. Jenny and little Pearl. That's what you want, isn't it?'

Jake didn't quite know how to answer. Whatever he said would be half a lie. There was an awkward pause.

‘You're a good man, Jake. Don't let pride ruin your life.'

Jake escorted her back in silence to rejoin the other guests. Joseph Bloom tapped a wineglass for attention, ready to make a speech.

• • • 

Keziah felt Jake standing behind her but she couldn't look at him. Joseph's speech was a blend of piety, earthy wisdom and humour, yet she found it difficult to concentrate on his words. Waves of humiliation made her cheeks burn, then she turned her anger on herself.
How many times must I fail before I face the truth? Jake simply doesn't want me as a woman!

She was suddenly caught by the words of Joseph's speech. His description of how he and Rivka had witnessed the spectacular climax of Her Majesty's birthday celebrations.

‘The crowd cheered when the gaslights were turned on to illuminate the streets of Sydney Town for the first time. Clear proof of our colony's progress in keeping pace with England.' Joseph's eyes smiled down
at his diminutive bride. ‘But for me this historic moment had great personal significance. I ask you to raise your glasses to my Rivka, who from childhood has illuminated my whole life!'

Drunk or sober the wedding guests broke into spontaneous cheering.

‘And some people think Germans aren't romantic!' Keziah said. She turned to check Jake's response.

He was gone.

Keziah sat alone watching the dancers. All energy was drained from her. She looked up to see Daniel offering her his hand. They walked home together in silence, each locked in their own thoughts.

Inside the front door she was surprised to see Daniel's bag packed and waiting.

‘I've decided to leave tonight. No point in delaying it. May I borrow the brumby?'

‘First time you've ever asked my permission,' she said wryly.

‘I'll leave him at the livery stables in Bolthole Valley and take the morning coach to Sydney Town. I've left a present for Gabriel at the foot of his bed. He'll find it when he wakes.'

Keziah felt a lump in her throat. ‘He'll miss you. He really loves you.'

‘I know, but I'm not the father he needs. I'm sorry I failed you.'

She straightened his collar the way a mother sends her small son off to school.

‘There's a Romani saying. “Never buy a handkerchief nor choose a wife by candlelight.” You chose
me
by candlelight.'

‘I regret many things I've done.
You
are not one of them.' His kiss was tender. ‘Be a good girl, Keziah. You'll manage all right for money? Jonstone's paying my tuition but I'll be short of cash till I gain a commission. You know where to find me. Remember, your husband is ready to fight by your side in court if Caleb Morgan decides to play rough.'

They clung to each other for a moment, then Daniel was gone.

Keziah knew that sleep was out of the question. She stoked up the fire and sat staring into the flames, dejected by her mistake about Jake. She almost laughed at the sad irony. How strange life was. Both the men in her life were leaving her on the same night. Daniel to race off to his ‘mistress'. Jake to pursue the only woman he had ever loved. Jenny.

‘What a fool I was to think Jake could ever love me as a woman.' Her words sounded hollow in the cottage. She had never felt more alone in her life.

But surely Jake couldn't toss their mateship aside. Could he?

In the heart of the fire she saw the image of what awaited Jake at journey's end.

It was his
baxt
. Jake would once again lie in Jenny's arms.

Battling against the drought that was now in its third year, Keziah was determined to keep her precious medicinal herb garden alive with every skerrick of water she could salvage. She had managed to cultivate every major herb necessary to treat a wide range of illnesses and injuries, guarding her plants as tenderly as a baby.

It was a windy July day, mid-winter by the calendar, but as parched as any summer she had known since her arrival. The drought had broken in some pockets of the colony, but rain had not fallen in Ironbark. Hearing a heavy knock Keziah raced to the door, hoping against hope to find Jake's comforting, shaggy-haired figure in the doorway.

Instead she came face to face with Caleb Morgan. He was dressed in an immaculate frockcoat and contrasting trousers that were reminiscent of the lithographs of Prince Albert. His high-crowned hat added to his height. He was the embodiment of a man of Quality, yet Keziah sensed a radical change in him.

He came bearing gifts. In one hand, an elegant arrangement of flowers, in the other a child's miniature Punch and Judy puppet theatre. He passed her in the doorway, placed his hat and gifts on the table then stripped off his kidskin gloves. With a faint smile of condescension he surveyed the room and the rustic furniture that Daniel had made her.

Keziah's first impulse was to order him out the door but something stopped her. Fashionable tailoring could not disguise his emaciated body. His hair, bleached in streaks by the desert sun, had grown longer in imitation of the careless Currency mode. His face was haggard. Crow's-feet were etched into the outer corners of his eyes and a tracery of lines ran from nose to mouth.

The discovery of the mythical Inland Sea would have secured his place in Australian history. Instead all his men had died from thirst, except for the one speared to death. Not even a packhorse had survived. Yet in that strangely contrary colonial response to failure, Caleb had become a hero.

Had the experience of facing death changed him? She was reminded of Jake's firm belief about his country. ‘For better or worse, Australia changes everyone.'

Caleb made a self-deprecating gesture. ‘Yes, Keziah. I went off on my grand adventure to fulfil your prophecy and make my name famous. I have succeeded in becoming something of a public figure, lionised in society. But not, alas, due to any merit of mine.' He gave a curt laugh to make light of his confession but the laugh brought on a fit of coughing.

‘My bones would be bleaching in the desert right now if it were not for the courage and loyalty of Jacky Jacko, a black tracker.'

‘I always knew you'd survive,' she said coolly, trying to sustain the hated image of the Morgan clan.

‘The fact that the rest of my party did
not
survive rests on my conscience. My ignorance and supreme arrogance led them to their deaths.'

Despite being startled by his honesty, Keziah was determined not to give in to pity.

Caleb appeared to be too large for her cottage. No taller than Jake or Daniel, he had the innate authority of one born to the ruling class. He crossed to the bookcase that Daniel had built from pine butter boxes and opened the natural history book of flora and fauna he had given her.

He smiled. ‘I see you have not forgotten our reading lessons?'

‘The past is dead to me,' she said.

‘Keziah,' he said. ‘I cannot undo the past but I come to ask your forgiveness.'

She was on guard.
What, no threats? No talk of his legal and moral
rights to Gabriel?
Her
Puri Dai
had warned her. Never trust
gaujo
charm.

‘How did you find me?'

Keziah knew he had not been fooled by her tombstone in Bolthole cemetery; his lawyer's letter to Joseph Bloom had made that clear. Caleb explained that Julian Jonstone had invited him to be his house guest at Gideon Park.

‘I used the opportunity to continue my search for you. I admired his family portraits and learned of his enthusiastic patronage of a convict artist, Daniel Browne. It struck me there was something oddly reminiscent about the sound of the ‘dark beauty' Browne had married. A schoolteacher who hated laudanum and gave Charlotte Jonstone herbs to aid childbirth? Just like my Romani girl who had tried to help my stepmother. I made discreet enquiries about the woman known as Saranna Browne, and learned her
adopted
son was of an age that could fit with the date of his conception at Morgan Park.'

Keziah knew subterfuge was useless. ‘I'll find some way to pay back your father's money but I admit nothing else.'