This Golden Land (27 page)

     Riding mutely at Hannah's side, Neal wanted to say something, wanted to voice the passion that gripped him, he searched for eloquent words and poetry that would dazzle her. But he was so consumed with desire that he could barely breathe. Keeping his focus on the road ahead, the reins, the horse, he fought his impulse to stop the carriage and take Hannah into his arms and possess her completely right there and then, in the middle of trees, rolling green hills and sunshine.

     Hannah finally found breath and voice. "Have you heard anything from Boston, any word about your mother?"

     "Nothing so far," he said. Neal had written to his adoptive father, Josiah Scott, who had said he would make some inquiries. Neal had also sent inquiries to another lawyer, the hall of records, two newspaper archives, even a long time friend with whom he went to university—anything that would give him a lead on who had left him on Josiah Scott's doorstep. His friend
had written back to say that the tear catcher bottle appeared to be a very exclusive and unique item, in that few glassmakers manufactured miniature bottles of emerald-green glass. The friend promised to keep looking.

     Thinking of that now, Neal retrieved the tear catcher from his trouser pocket and held it out to Hannah, the glass flashing vivid green, the gold filigree shooting back sunlight. "I have a confession to make, Hannah. Ever since Josiah Scott sat me down years ago to tell me that I was a foundling, I had secretly clung to the belief that I wasn't rejected by my mother, that there
had
to be a reason why she gave me up. All those months at sea on the
Borealis
, with nothing but time and thoughts on my mind, I did a lot of internal examining. Changing this little vessel from an expensive perfume bottle to a tear catcher had a profound effect on me, Hannah. Thanks to you, I cannot believe now that my mother gave me up willingly."

     "I'm glad," Hannah said, looking at Neal's profile. His handsome face, square and even-featured, seemed even more attractive from the side, with a straight nose over a thin-lipped mouth and firm jaw.

     "I will keep writing letters home," he said, "contacting anyone I can think of who can shed light on the events of twenty-seven years ago, when Josiah Scott came home and found the cradle at his front door." And then my dearest Hannah, Neal added silently, when I have the answers and know who I really am, I will ask for your hand in marriage.

     She gave the little glass bottle back to him. "What was it like on the
Borealis?
" she asked as a landscape of farm fields, pastures, post-and-rail fences rolled by. Hannah had already read about the year-long adventure in the letters Neal had written while he was waiting for Sir Reginald to get the expedition launched, but Hannah needed his voice to fill the silence of longing and desire, to give the moment a semblance of normalcy.

     "What was it like?" Neal murmured. He looked back five months to the day he disembarked from the survey vessel at Fremantle. He had hated to see it end. What an adventure! And yet, at the same time, something had happened . . .

     Neal had looked toward the shore and to the distant horizon, and he had felt mysterious shifts and eddies within himself, as if something had been gently dislodged. Beyond the mountains lay the mysterious back country
which men called the Outback. No one knew what lay out there. Maps of Australia showed coastlines in detail, with names, topographical features, and the gradual mushrooming of human settlements. But the middle was blank. It was like the blank spot inside himself, he thought. Neal had no idea where he came from, what his family name was, who his ancestors were. He felt tied to no one and to no place. Australia seemed like that to him, without identity until men uncovered its precious secrets. And when he had stepped ashore at Fremantle, he had felt the irresistible lure to be one of those men.

     "We explored islands and estuaries," he said, "archipelagos and reefs. We sailed as far north as Port Hedland and as far south as Point Irwin. It was exciting but it was also frustrating being on the government ship and seeing the distant horizon, feeling something call to me, a big mystery in that vast unknown. When Sir Reginald offered me the chance to join his expedition, I jumped at it."

     Neal grew animated. "It will be a scientific expedition, Hannah," he said, turning to look at her and flash a grin. "We will be measuring and quantifying, analyzing and recording everything we encounter. We will be opening up the continent for progress, for the telegraph and railway, so that someday one can travel from Sydney to Perth without taking a ship." He sighed and snapped the reins. "I would love for my adoptive father to experience this place. Josiah and I used to go hiking in the woods when I was young. He is a watercolorist. We would pack food and water, his easel and paints, and we would go trekking in the hills. Josiah would love this new country. Unfortunately he is terrified of ships and ocean travel."

     As he looked at her, Neal felt his heart do an aching tumble. And suddenly he was wondering if it was possible for him to leave a day later. Could he travel at high speed and arrive in time for the launch of the expedition? If I do, I can spend one more day—and one more night—with Hannah. "What about you? Tell me what you've been up to."

     Hannah had written to him about her time with Dr. Davenport; her revelation in Kirkland's Emporium to go out into the countryside; meeting Mary McKeeghan, and moving into Liza Guinness's hotel. She had even told him about Alice, but not the precise circumstances of how they met. Hannah
was still embarrassed about her naiveté and how her association with a bordello had almost ruined a good doctor's reputation.

     Instead she spoke of her new passion to own a place of her own. "Run a few sheep, raise medicinal herbs. A place that will still be here a hundred years from now. But it isn't turning out to be as easy as I had hoped. I am doing well as a midwife, but people hesitate to call me for any other help, even though I have assured them of my education and experience and competency. Once in a while, if the local doctor is miles away on another call, I will do in a pinch. But I am, in the end, just a midwife. But I won't give up. One way or another, I will have a place of my own."

     Neal said nothing, but pondered this news with a troubled heart. How could he tell her that the restlessness that had caused him to leave Boston was continuing to grow within him? That the more mysteries he encountered, the more he needed to seek them out and solve them? His sojourn on the
Borealis
had not only
not
quenched his explorer's thirst, but had made him thirst for more. It worried him now to think that, in the seventeen months since they had said good-bye on the deck of the
Caprica
, they had both changed, their paths had continued to diverge until it suddenly frightened him now to think that, with Hannah determined to put down roots and he himself committed to further exploration, they could never hope to be together.

     Unless one of them gave up his or her dream.

     Neal had thought of asking Hannah to go exploring with him, to join Sir Reginald's expedition and wander the unknown heart of Australia at his side. And he suspected that Hannah wanted to ask
him
to stay with her, to buy some land, build a permanent home and become part of this new country. They could not do both.

     "Tell me about the expedition," she said, seeing the sudden tension in Neal's neck and jaw, wondering what had caused it.

     "We will be crossing the Nullarbor Plain," he said, "an area of flat, arid and almost treeless country that lies to the west of Adelaide. It's very desolate, I hear. The word Nullarbor itself is Latin for 'no trees.' It's believed to have once been an enormous sea that is now dried up."

     "Will the expedition be a dangerous one?" Hannah asked, not liking the sound of an enormous dried-up sea called
nullarbor.

     "It's a vital one and has to be done," Neal replied, leaving out the part about men going in and never coming out. "It isn't just an expedition of exploration, it's to survey and study the lay of the land for further expansion. Surveyors and geologists will be along, but what they need most is a good photographer. That will be me. But Sir Reginald is very experienced. He has written books about his adventures. My favorite describes a harrowing incident at the Khyber Pass. When the British invaded Afghanistan from India during the Afghan Wars, Sir Reginald was an advisor to the Army, and it was his quick thinking that saved the day. So, yes, it will be a dangerous journey, but I have every confidence in its leader."

     Conversation died after that, as neither had the desire to talk when stronger passions governed them, and presently they were joining heavier traffic, and passing more buildings until they entered the city itself.

     The Clifford Hotel on North Terrace, a posh street that faced the River Torrens and grassy parkland, was a three-story building made of locally quarried bluestone and boasted twenty rooms with "dining and laundry services available." Neal guided the carriage to the rear yard, a busy enclave of stables and horses. Neal's newly hired assistant, Fintan, was there loading their wagon with supplies, Neal's instruments and photographic equipment.

     When Neal introduced Hannah to Fintan, she could not help but stare. She had never seen so beautiful a youth, with large soulful eyes framed by the longest lashes she had ever seen on a male; a true cupid's mouth over a cleft chin; and inky black hair that grew out in extraordinary curls. He must melt every feminine heart he encountered, she thought. Yet when he tipped his hat and smiled, it was in a bashful way, and his cheeks flamed most endearingly. Hannah instantly liked him. She also thought it was too bad that Alice was away in Sydney. Fintan was about the same age, twenty-one she would guess, and it occurred to Hannah that they would get on famously.

     "I just have to get my valise and pay my bill," Neal said as he took Hannah by the elbow and escorted her into the lobby which was small and tastefully appointed with horsehair furniture and potted plants. A fat-faced tabby cat slept in a sun-filled window.

     Neal paused and looked into Hannah's eyes that made him think of morning mists. He took in the black hair that so perfectly framed her oval
face, sweeping over her ears and up into a dainty bun that supported her bonnet. He wanted to sweep her into his arms and carry her upstairs, and leave Sir Reginald to fate. "I won't be a minute," he said.

     "I'll wait right here," Hannah said, realizing it was a useless statement as what else could she do? But she had to say something to stop herself from blurting, "Take me upstairs."

     Neal was down again in five minutes, carrying a leather valise and a handful of monetary notes which he gave to the desk clerk, with effusive thanks. They went around back where Fintan was checking the ropes on crates stenciled with warnings: DANGER! VOLATILE CHEMICALS. KEEP FROM HEAT.

     Before they climbed into the buggy, Neal said impulsively, "Hannah, I want to show you something. It's a secret—not even Fintan has seen this. In fact, Sir Reginald didn't want me to have this information but I wouldn't agree to go along unless he told me."

     Her curiosity piqued, Hannah watched as Neal retrieved a map from his inside pocket and, unfolding it, said, "You've heard of Edward John Eyre?"

     It was impossible to live in Adelaide for more than a few days without learning about the famous explorer who had opened up much of the unknown wilderness north of the city—and it was impossible to travel about the district without encountering streets, lakes and mountains named Eyre.

     "Eight years ago, in 1840," Neal explained, "Edward John Eyre set out from Fowler's Bay, which is here along the coast a couple hundred miles," he pointed to a coastal spot on the map west of Adelaide, "with a friend and three Aboriginal men. When they reached Caiguna, two of the Aborigines killed Eyre's friend and made off with the supplies. Eyre and the third Aborigine, Wylie, continued on their journey, miraculously completing their crossing in June 1841, here, at Albany in the south, which as you can see is quite a distance from Perth.

     "Sir Reginald is not going to follow Eyre's route, which tended to hug the coastline. He plans a much more ambitious one, farther north, deeper into the interior," and Neal traced a new route, from the top of Spencer Gulf, westward through big bold letters that said UNKNOWN TERRITORY, until his fingertip arrived at Perth on the west coast, thirteen hundred miles
away. Hannah noticed, just eastward of Perth, a place marked
Galagandra
, circled in red. "Hannah, I am telling you this," Neal said as he folded the map and replaced it in his breast pocket, "because I want you to know where I will be. But I ask you to tell no one else. Sir Reginald is adamant about keeping our route and destination a secret."

     When he saw the worry on her face, he said gently, "Don't worry. Edward Eyre went in a party of five, ours numbers over thirty. And Eyre made the mistake of relying on native guides, who ultimately betrayed him. We will have no native guides."

     "But would they not be a help?" she asked in alarm.

     "Sir Reginald has never trusted natives, ever since a nasty incident in the Sudan from which he barely escaped with his life. He believes natives have only one motive: to get the white man out of their territory."

     With Fintan ahead driving the wagon, Neal and Hannah followed in the buggy. Tension grew between them. Neal's knuckles were white as he gripped the reins. Hannah clasped her gloved hands so tightly that her fingers hurt. Neal did not want to leave her. Hannah did not want him to go.

     A mile from the Australia Hotel, as Fintan continued ahead in the wagon, Neal impulsively pulled the buggy off the road and, dropping the reins, swept Hannah into his arms.

     They kissed without taking a breath, as if this were their last hour on earth. Neal snatched Hannah's bonnet away and drove his fingers into her hair. Hannah dug her fingers into his linen jacket. "I won't go," Neal said in a husky voice. "There will be other expeditions."