Ironbark (56 page)

She held her breath. Would Jake back down? Or was he like Gem, too proud to forgive her?

• • • 

Jake concentrated on rubbing the tobacco he had no intention of smoking.
Poor little bugger's dying of shame. But she's got me between a rock and a hard place. If she takes two steps towards me I'll drag her into the bush and rip those starchy clothes off her. If I do, I'll lose her forever. How the hell do I give her back her bloody Romani pride?

Keziah did take two steps towards him.

‘Hold it right there, lady!' Jake said amiably. ‘You landed a couple of lucky punches last bout we fought. Don't push your luck! I've never hit a woman in my life, it's beneath my dignity as a man, but I ain't no gentleman. If you hit me below the belt again,' he added the words like a caress, ‘I'll flatten you, love.'

Keziah said stiffly, ‘I owe you an apology.' She blushed and looked away.

‘That's
it
, is it?'

The words he needed went totally against the grain, but he had to say them or lose her.

‘Don't expect
me
to apologise for what I said about men. I'm a man myself. You can't trust any of us buggers. I'll do my damnedest to protect you from other blokes. But …' He let the word hang in the air. ‘I'd trust
you
, Kez, with my life.'

Keziah was crying all over his shirt as her shame was washed away with the salt of her tears.

‘The truth is, Jake, I'm not always as wise as I want to be but I'm not as weak as you're afraid I am. And I'm yours if you want me.'

Jake took his time to digest that invitation. He allowed her body to press against his but kept his grip on the veranda posts, his knuckles white with the effort not to touch her.

‘How about this for a deal?' he offered. ‘I don't expect you to forget Gem. He's part of you – always will be. Understand this. I refuse to share you. Throw in your lot with me and every day you can be your own woman. Teach school, train horses, do your herbal magic. Any bloody thing you want, but every night when the first stars come out in the sky – then you're
my
woman.' He added gently, ‘And I'm warning you. I'm
very
demanding.'

‘YES!' Keziah sent her bonnet sailing through the air and her wild hair tumbled down. But right at the moment Jake reached out to claim her, Gabriel appeared in the doorway with the plaintive cry that he was hungry.

Jake muttered under his breath. ‘So am I, mate, so am I.'

Keziah gave Gabriel bread and cheese and offered to feed Jake. He knew that even when packed ready to bolt she would manage to put a fine meal together. He declined. He had just released an uncomfortable degree of emotion, and there was one remaining thing
he had planned for days. He took a red ribbon from his pocket.

‘Do you know what this ribbon means, Gabe? Your mama told me it's a Romani custom. When a baby boy is born his father ties a red ribbon round his son's neck. To show the world he's proud his son belongs to him.'

Jake lifted Gabriel's chin and tied the red ribbon. ‘So this means I'm now your father. Always. And you're my little Rom.'

Gabriel was wide-eyed. ‘Do I wear it
all
the time?'

He hid a smile. ‘No, mate. Just till the sun goes down tonight.'

Jake didn't dare look at Keziah, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the tears streaming down her face. He carried Gabriel in his arms and strode down the track to the place where he had stowed the
vardo
. He turned to gauge Keziah's reaction – his reward.

Keziah's cry was so passionate the horses became restless. The green and gold
vardo
was a work of art. A tiny metal chimney peeped through the bow-topped green roof. Two diamond-paned windows framed the rear door. She recognised Daniel's artwork. At the heart of the gilt scrollwork was a rampant wild horse. The brumby.

With a flourish Jake unfolded the steps between the back wheels. Gabriel clambered inside and closed the door but they could hear his jubilant cries of discovery.

Keziah cried as though her heart would break. Jake looked helpless as he held her.

‘Jesus wept, woman. Does this mean you
like
it?'

‘It's the most beautiful
vardo
in the world. If you let me share it with you, Jake Andersen, I swear By My Father's Hand I'll never ever leave you!'

Jake studied her for a long moment. ‘Not even if I
beg
you to go?' The sound of two sets of giggles inside the
vardo
startled Keziah. ‘Who else is in there?'

Jake kept a straight face. ‘I guess that'd be my daughter, Pearl.'

‘Why didn't you introduce me?'

‘Didn't think I had to. You're psychic, ain't you?' he teased.

Jake watched Keziah climb into the
vardo
and kneel down to bring her eyes level with Pearl's face. ‘I'm so happy your papa found you, Pearl.'

When Pearl shrank back with a suspicious expression Keziah covered the rejection by extending a hand to each child. ‘Come and help your papa. As soon as we load the wagon we're all going off to share a great adventure!'

• • • 

The sun shone and the breeze fanned their faces as they travelled along a meandering back track that Jake assured them was less likely to attract bushrangers than the open road. Keziah sat on the front seat with the two children sandwiched between her and Jake. Horatio clopped along as though he'd been born to draw a Romani
vardo
. The brumby, Sarishan and Pony followed behind them.

Pieces of Keziah's life flashed before her eyes with the speed of Tarot cards dealt out by some magical sleight of hand.

Why was I so blind? Gem was my Rom but he could never forgive me. Daniel loved me like a sister. Caleb wanted to pass me off as a fine lady in society – if I forfeited my soul. Jake's a
gaujo
who believes in nothing. Yet he above all men respects ‘my weird Romani laws'. Now he's built this
vardo
to give me back my lost Romani life!

When she caught Jake's eye she stroked the timber of the
vardo
as lovingly as if she was caressing his body.

Jake said nothing. Just gave her a funny look, half proud, half embarrassed.

She was conscious of how nervous Pearl was of her and sensed it would be difficult to win the little girl's trust. Jenny's desertion had left deep scars on her psyche, just as it had on Jake.

In the wilds of the bush Jake drew to a halt. Ahead of them at a lonely crossroads was a handmade signpost.

Keziah tried to read Jake's odd expression as he stared at the scene.
The setting sun highlighted a rusty gate that opened onto an abandoned farm. No fence, just a metal gate between rickety posts. A derelict timber cabin leaned drunkenly against a magnificent red gum. The rays of the sun washed the grey trunk like a topcoat worn over dappled shades of pink, red and brown.

Jake seemed to be searching for the right words. Keziah came to his rescue.

‘Your land, is it?'

‘Yeah. Won it from a bloke in a poker game. One hundred and thirty acres. Of course you won't catch me farming it. No land will ever tie me down like it did Pa.'

‘No, of course not.'

‘But it's not a bad bit of dirt.'

Keziah knew that this was the offhand Currency way to say the soil was very fertile.

‘Horses,' she said. ‘I see magnificent thoroughbreds everywhere.'

There wasn't a single horse in sight apart from the four that travelled with them. Despite Sarishan's clandestine lineage, Jake couldn't openly lay claim to his thoroughbred descent.

‘I'll be buggered. Only last week I ordered a couple of Ogden's fillies for breeding next season – you couldn't have known!'

‘Gem placed Sarishan in your care. Same bloodline as Ogden's champion. I always knew you'd breed thoroughbreds one day. You have the gift.'

Jake looked pleased. He pointed to the sliver of creek running through the heart of his land.

‘That's a good spot to stop for the night and feed the kids. I'm taking you on a bit of an adventure beyond Argyle county. Then maybe we'll come back here and breed horses.'

Keziah smiled at the sound of the children arranging which bunks they'd sleep in. ‘That's two. Five more children to come. Don't say I didn't warn you.'

Jake's voice was husky. ‘The first stars are out. After you've done that motherly stuff and tucked them up in bed, I'm giving
you
fair warning – better not pretend you're too tired.'

‘Never!' she said as she rested her head on his shoulder, her hand high on his thigh.

Keziah needed to cling to the belief that
Shon
would always be there for her in the phases of the moon that waxed and waned in Jake's sky. She suspected
baxt
had something in store that was so extraordinary it made her shiver. Jake asked her if she was cold.

‘No, a goose just walked over my grave.'

Jake wasn't fooled for a minute. ‘The last time you said that I drove my coach over Blackman's Leap. You think you know what's going to happen? And you're not afraid?'

‘I'll take whatever comes.'

Jake ruffled her hair. ‘I'm not sorry you're tagging along.' It was the best he could do. It was enough. He looked across at the rough signpost standing at the junction of the tracks. He had made it himself when a royal flush had won him the property.

‘That marks the miles to Melbourne Town, Berrima, Gunning, Goulburn and Sydney Town. Some wag added “London twelve thousand miles as the crow flies. New York – God only knows.”' Jake offered a challenge. ‘If you're so bloody clever, which road am I going to take tomorrow?'

‘I can't see
everything
.'

Jake's mouth wasn't smiling but his eyes were. ‘For all you know I might be taking you to the Swan River Colony or Timbuktu. Aren't you curious?'

Keziah looked into eyes that held the love Jake refused to put into words.

‘No, my Rom. If you are going there then that's the right road.'

January 1842 – December 1844

Laws are like spiders' webs. They hold the weak and delicate who are caught in their meshes but are torn in pieces by the rich and powerful.

Plutarch,
Parallel Lives

The New Year that fell in the high summer of 1842 was a golden odyssey for Jake Andersen and his new family. They were living an enchanted life, one as close to Keziah's Romani childhood as Jake could give her.

Although carefree on the surface, Jake was aware how low his finances were. The colony's boom years were over. The properties they passed had nothing to offer itinerant workers. One major source of income he had depended on had dried up. Terence Ogden had always given Jake well-paid work whenever he wanted it, but now Ogden had sailed off to Cornwall for an indefinite period, clearly relieved to distance himself from his nagging wife but sad to leave his thoroughbred horses. Until his return Ogden Park was being run by an arrogant English manager who, despite Ogden's instructions to the contrary, refused to employ Currency Lads.

Jake was only half resigned to the loss of his other source of ready money.

As they drove along a remote track with no sign of civilisation, Keziah laid down the law about prize fights. Jenny had loved watching him fight, but Keziah could never forget her father had died after a fight in prison.

She confronted him with angry tears. ‘If you fight again I'll leave you!'

‘Hey, I'm always last man standing. Well, most of the time.'

‘I don't care. What if you get badly injured! I'd rather be poor for the rest of my life than see you bruised and bloodied.'

‘All right! No more fights,' Jake reluctantly promised her. ‘What the hell does money matter anyway?'

They were driving along with Horatio at the helm of their
vardo
, their beautiful horses, Sarishan, the brumby and Pony, trailing behind them. Jake always chose to meander down bush tracks out of sight of villages. He was keen to dodge the roving muster team whose statistics would expose his unofficial custody of Pearl. Privately he wouldn't have put it past Jenny to threaten to put the traps on his tail unless he forked out more money, but he dismissed that possibility in cavalier style. Keziah didn't need any help from him to fear the law. This time she must have read his mind.

‘Are we likely to run across the muster team out here?'

‘Stop worrying, love. Our irregular liaison ain't a problem. Caleb Morgan has done the decent thing and stopped pressing his legal claim to Gabe.'

‘Yes, but his father was the real villain. I can't see John Morgan happy to accept his grandson being reared by what he sees as a Gypsy thief. I'll have to keep on being Saranna Browne and you know what that means if we're caught openly travelling together.'

Jake tried to laugh away her fears about
gaujo
law. ‘Nonsense. Half the marriages in the colony come under the label of co-habitation. What do the lawyers call it?
De facto.
Look at how many big-wig politicians, army officers and doctors openly live with their mistresses and raise cartloads of kids. Nobody much gives a damn. We mightn't get invited to dine at the gov's table, but will you lose any sleep over that? Relax. Enjoy the scenery. The only decision we need to face is where are the fish biting?'

‘You know I don't need my Tarot for that. We'll never go hungry with you as head of the family. You live off the land as well as any Rom.'

Jake grinned his thanks at her compliment. It amused him to admit that despite the years he had adamantly forsworn sharing his life with a good woman, he basked in the role of patriarch. By day he allowed Keziah the illusion she was boss of the camp until sundown when he
turned the tables. By night she was totally his woman, ardently responsive and as eager as he was to make up for lost time. Their lovemaking was unpredictable – imaginative, teasing, gentle and romantic or hot and lusty.