The Horse Thief (26 page)

When Jefferson was discovered missing Kilhampton would know who was responsible, but no-one could level horse theft at him for taking his own animal. Besides, with escape under his belt as well they had enough on him. Then what? Munmurra was out of the question. All his plans for the future skittled. From now on he would think his plans through and weigh the consequences. One lesson he'd learned over the past weeks. Queensland beckoned, or Victoria, the goldfields. It was madness to go back to Helligen but he was unable to resist. He needed a horse and there was only one he wanted and one he was entitled to. Jefferson was his and he intended to claim him. Goodfellow belonged at Helligen and that's where he would live out his days.

The opportunities were endless. In the meantime he'd enjoy the sunshine, relax and avoid thinking of what might have been.

Twenty-Seven

The grandfather clock in the hallway struck ten as India knocked on the library door. Receiving no answer she pushed the door open and stuck her head around the corner. Lost in thought Papa stood gazing out of the long window to the fig trees and beyond.

‘Good morning, Papa.'

He gave a slight shudder and turned, his face grey and grim, and India's stomach sank. He looked about as approachable as a red-bellied black, ready to strike at a moment's notice.

‘May I speak with you?'

His grunt of agreement did little to encourage. She sat in the chair facing his desk, a prisoner in the dock awaiting his wrath. She deserved it. Jim did not. He should not be in the lock-up for a crime his father committed. No matter how he had presented himself, what name he'd used, he was not guilty. When the so-called theft took place Jim was no more than a boy. How could he be held responsible for something his father had done?

After an agony of delay Papa turned from the window and collapsed into his seat on the other side of the desk. For a moment she had a vision of Jim sitting in the same spot poring over the studbooks. The knowledge she'd given him free access to all of the stud records made her hands clammy and heat climb up her arms. How could she have done that? She had no right to the responsibility of running Helligen.

‘Well?'

‘I don't know where to start.'

‘At the beginning, I suggest.'

‘I've come to apologise.'

‘Hmm?'

‘The situation in which I placed our family. It is my fault entirely. I made a mistake.'

Papa nodded in agreement, no smile, just a curt nod.

She rushed on. ‘However, Jim's not a horse thief. He shouldn't be in gaol and he shouldn't be held accountable for a crime committed over fifteen years ago when he was just a boy. You have to drop the charges and have him released.' There, she'd said it. Her shoulders sagged and a little bit of the tension trickled away. She shuffled back in the chair, clasped her hands in her lap and waited.

Goodfellow peered down at her from the portrait. It was a remarkable likeness, she could see that now. How she could have missed the similarity and not recognised Jefferson was beyond her. Then again most, if not all, of her behaviour in the last months defied description. The persistent flush rose to her cheeks and she beat it back, pushing thoughts of Jim and the river aside.

Papa steepled his fingers and stared across the desk. ‘Do you have any idea what you're asking?'

Of course she did. She was asking him to have Jim released from gaol. Not to hold him responsible for a crime he hadn't committed. She wasn't asking for Jim to stay at Helligen, in fact she never wanted to set eyes on him again knowing she'd been played for a fool—but she didn't want to see him hang. ‘Horse thieving is a hanging offence. He doesn't deserve to die.'

‘You've been talking to Peggy,' Papa said with the first glimmer of softening in his harsh features.

‘Yes, I have. Peggy told me Jim had been taken away last night. No-one else saw fit.' She couldn't resist the last barb and regretted it the moment the words left her lips.

His brow drew together in a familiar scowl, the one capable of making her stomach sink and as a child had heralded all sorts of horrible punishments. ‘Only Sydney's Supreme Court is entitled to award the death penalty. The punishment for horse and cattle theft is a prison sentence. I somehow doubt the common little horse thief will be dragged to the gallows, as much as I would wish otherwise.'

‘Papa!' The noose loosened around Jim's neck. ‘You cannot wish any man dead.'

‘I can, I have and I did. Unfortunately God intervened and beat me to it.' A dreadful look flashed across Papa's face, an absolute leaching of all colour, his eyes glazed and dulled, fixed in the past.

Whatever was he talking about? ‘I'm sorry?' She had to concentrate. Her mind kept slipping back to Jim. If he received a gaol sentence, how long would he be incarcerated, and where?

‘Thomas Cobb is dead. He died before his son saw fit to pay us a visit. It was his death that inspired your stud master to begin his misbegotten quest.'

That's right. She knew that. Jim had told her right at the very beginning his father had died a few months back. He hadn't lied about that. ‘His father was a stud master who worked for some of the more reputable studs in New South Wales. Jim grew up around horses.'

‘Indeed. Helligen amongst them,' he said drily. Her face flushed again as he pinpointed her gullibility. ‘Didn't you think to ask him where?'

No. She hadn't thought to ask him where, instead she'd told him everything there was to know about Helligen and her family. ‘Oh Papa, I have been so very, very foolish.'

‘You have and now I think it's time for you to tell me about the rest of your foolishness. Shall we start at the beginning?'

The look of compassion on Papa's face swept away any doubts. ‘I should never have placed the advertisement without asking you first.' Her words tumbled out, jumbled and confused. ‘I wasn't thinking straight. I was so keen to …'

He walked around the desk until he stood in front of her and took her hand in his, patting and soothing. His eyes searched hers. ‘Of course you were, my poor girl.'

‘I should never have … I just wanted everything to be as it was. Full of laughter and love, not misery and memories.'

Perhaps it was the haze of shame that made her accept responsibility for the chaos she'd caused; it certainly wasn't the outrageous feelings Jim had inspired. He had duped her, tricked her and lied to her. She covered her cheeks with her hands, hiding the putrid beetroot colour. Never could she look at him again. How could she have been such a fool? She dropped her hands into her lap, her face no longer burning. A cool calm certainty told her she must make amends.

Papa sat on the corner of his desk. ‘This is what I have decided.'

With a demure expression on her face she waited for the axe to fall. If only she'd thought things through and hadn't jumped in full of enthusiasm and determination. She had played straight into Papa's hands. A year to prove herself—she hadn't even reached the halfway mark.

As she ruminated on her plight there was a brief knock on the door. Papa lifted his head and a guarded smile drifted over his face. ‘Laila.'

‘Mama.' Surprise made her voice catch. Mama's pale grey silk dress swished as she crossed the room. She stared all the while at Papa with the strangest look in her eyes.

‘Come and sit, you will tire yourself.' Papa led her to the wingback chair by the window. India stared open-mouthed at the transformation a few short days had wrought. Mama's long hair was drawn back off her face and her carriage was poised and upright.

‘Thank you, Alexander. I will sit, not because I'm tired, but because it's time you gave me the opportunity to speak. Anya tells me Jim was taken away last night, at your behest, to Maitland Gaol.'

‘Don't concern yourself, my dear. I have everything under control.'

‘I am concerned. You have accused him of horse theft. He's not a thief any more than his father was.'

Papa's jaw clenched and his shoulders tensed. ‘You know nothing of the situation. Please, I beg of you, let me handle the matter.'

‘Jim brought Goodfellow back to Helligen because I asked him.'

India attempted to smother a gasp and failed. Mama looked up at her and smiled. ‘I have always known Goodfellow did not lie beneath the granite monstrosity you saw fit to place beside Oliver, as I also knew Thomas Cobb could not have shot Goodfellow.'

‘How did you know?' India couldn't keep quiet a moment longer.

Papa took several steps away from Mama, his face darkening. ‘I rest my case. The man was a horse thief, however I didn't imagine he'd committed the crime with your consent.'

‘Oh, Alexander. You're jumping to conclusions. Let me speak and let India hear the truth. It's time to heal past wounds. Her life hangs in the balance because of something that happened half a lifetime ago.'

In a strange way it was right Mama should be the one to understand her feelings. She settled back into the chair. Papa stood with one arm resting on the mantel. He tossed a glance up at the portrait above the fireplace and then back to Mama.

‘For all these years you have laid the blame for my accident on Thomas Cobb's head. Said he allowed me to ride Goodfellow that night. He didn't. I did it of my own volition.'

‘I thought you had no memory of the events.'

‘That's right. I
had
no memory of those events, but when I looked from my window and saw Jefferson it was as though a fog had lifted and I began to remember. At first I thought it was a dream. For so long I had been searching for Goodfellow. I knew if I could find him he would be the key to unlock the past.'

‘You were looking for Goodfellow?' India asked. ‘When you went out at night?' The enormity of Mama's statement ripped the ground from beneath her feet. All this time she, they, had thought her mother searched for her dead son. That one fact, her failure to comprehend Oliver's death had convinced the doctors she'd lost her senses. The sound of Papa's hand slamming down on the mantel made her jump.

‘I have had enough of this. Are you telling me you have been riding again, Laila?'

‘Alexander, will you hear me out or will you let a man go to the gallows because of your pigheaded attitude?'

‘He won't go to the gallows,' Papa mumbled through lips rigid with frustration. ‘Continue.'

‘For over a year everyone had fussed and pampered me. Kept me abed all the time I was carrying Oliver.'

‘It was for your own safety. I couldn't lose you … the string of miscarriages all because you insisted on working in the paddocks with that man. I wanted a son.' Papa's hand slammed down again, rocking the skeleton clock beneath its glass dome.

Her mother's plaintive cry was almost a wail. India recoiled. What had she done? She'd opened up even more heartbreak and all because she hoped to heal? What a diabolical disaster.

‘Yes, I was determined to give you your heart's desire. A son to carry your name and rule the perfect kingdom you'd created for us, your family. Everything we hadn't had as children.'

India's throat tightened. Papa stood and peered down at Mama. His eyes narrowed, almost as though he didn't believe what she was saying. Mama offered a timid smile. ‘I sneaked out of the house, as I have done so many times. I needed to feel the wind in my hair and the freedom. You had your ship. For months I had only four walls and Anya. The accident was my mistake and my foolishness. It was God's will we lost our beautiful son. It was never Thomas Cobb's fault and his son shouldn't pay.'

A tear rolled down India's cheek and she brushed it aside. It was as though she stood in the audience in one of the Sydney theatres watching a great melodrama unroll, but this was no narrative. It was her family. And Mama and Papa had no knowledge of her own role that night.

‘It would appear both of you wish to take responsibility for the Cobbs' failings. None of what you have said leads me to change my opinion. Thomas Cobb stole Goodfellow.'

‘And what about Jim?' Mama asked.

‘I will consider Jim's plight. Leave him in gaol to ponder his actions for a few days, kick his heels. It'll do the boy good. The magistrate won't be around for another two weeks.'

Papa's comment echoed her own sentiments, as long as Jim wasn't to hang. ‘Will you withdraw your charges?' Pushing the issue wouldn't help but she had to know.

‘Against my better judgement, since both of you wish it so.'

Her heart soared. Papa liked to make deals, make arrangements and once made he stuck by them. That was part of the reason she was confident her year at Helligen would run its course. She still had time to rectify her earlier mistakes and with Jim off her conscience she'd be better able to do that.

‘However, I'm putting a condition on it.'

‘Condition,' India squeaked. What did he mean, condition? The ground beneath her feet wavered and she eased back into the chair.

‘I will withdraw the charges against James Cobb on the condition he gets the hell off my property and out of my life. None of the Cobb family will ever set foot on Helligen again.'

India swallowed. It was to be expected.

‘And Goodfellow?' Her mother asked the question in the forefront of India's mind.

‘Goodfellow stays here where he belongs.'

‘But you will allow Jim to take his own horse, Jefferson?'

‘Again, against my better judgement. It's obvious to anyone with half a brain who sired that animal but there are no records to prove that. The animal goes with him.'

Her breath escaped in a shivering sigh and when Mama's hand came and rested on her shoulder the tears welled in her eyes. Whether from the unaccustomed gesture of understanding from a woman so long locked in her own world, or relief, she wasn't sure. Jim would be gone, it was for the best, and her life would resume the pattern she had so foolishly disrupted by her ill-advised advertisement. Helligen would live again; with her mother's help they could breathe life into it and maybe, just maybe her dreams would not die.