Read Online Daring Masquerade by Margaret Tanner - Free Book Online
Authors: Margaret Tanner
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of the high country. Miles of shimmering plains stretched out like a brown empty vista in front of her. Ross rode up. How grand he looked on a horse, arrogant but princely. His skin was tanned, the ugly puckering scar had faded to a deep pink now. Why should I care what he looks like? But she did. To her horror she cared a lot.
"A couple of miles up the road there's a creek. Get there as quickly as you can and get a fire going. There's plenty of driftwood around. I don't want to waste much time. Rustle up some food for us."
"Yes, boss." She saluted.
His mouth tightened. "None of your lip, either."
It gave her a perverse kind of pleasure getting under his skin, but she must not overplay her hand. What would he do if he did discover her gender? Fire her immediately. It went without saying. Turn her into the law for being an imposter and taking money under false pretences? Her mouth dried at the thought, and her hands on the reins became suddenly clammy. What would become of Gil if Ross banished them from Devil's Ridge?
"Gidd'up," she yelled at the horse, giving it a couple of quick slaps on the backside to increase its pace. "Can't keep the boss man waiting for his mug of tea."
She gnawed her lip. She hadn't seen Gil since they left the mountains, and every time they were separated it worried her. He always appeared pale and drawn now. Little wonder after nights of fitful sleep, because his nightmares were becoming more frequent and terrifying for him. He would cry out pitifully for the stretcher-bearers, or beg his friends not to let him die. Finally, he would wake up shaking and drenched with perspiration.
Will he ever get better?
Sometimes he seemed to have lost the will to live. Other times he acted as he had been before Gallipoli shattered him, but these occasions were becoming rare. She didn't know what to do about it. She could not let on to Ross the true extent of Gil's condition or he would fire them. He treated Gil well, was very understanding, in fact, but it wasn't fair to expect him to continue employing a man who could not do a full day's work.
I'll speak to Jack. He's a kindly sensible man. She wanted to weep for her once dashing, laughing brother, but could not allow herself the luxury. Boys never cried.
The other men treated her with indifference, obviously not bothered by what they must think was standoffish behavior. The swearing and lurid language they used without a qualm in front of her confirmed that they considered her one of them.
They acted kindly towards to Gil, making sure he did the easiest jobs, not complaining if he rested from his labors sometimes, or if he wandered off to brood on his own. She knew they had covered his absences from Ross on several occasions.
When he was in one of his good moods, they chafed him good-naturedly, but when he became silent and withdrawn they left him in peace. She tried to show her gratitude by making an extra special effort to feed them well.
A creek came into view. Almost hidden by trees, she could easily have passed it without noticing. The wild ducks alerted her to its whereabouts first, then came the calls of other water birds. She pulled the horse up in a clearing. Picking up a kerosene tin by its wire handle she filled it up with cool, clear water and lugged it back to the wagon. The men could replenish their water bottles from here in case the cattle muddied the water when they came down to drink.
"Tea ready yet?" Jack came up to her. "Ross wants to keep the cattle moving. The men will have to come in relays. Once we've eaten we go back to the cattle and relieve the others. All right, boy?"
"Yes. Where's Gil?"
"He's all right. Be here in a minute. He can help you." He winked. "Get him to have a rest in the wagon for a bit. Let him come back with the second bunch of men."
"How you doin', Harry?"
"Good, thanks, Archie." She grinned at the stockman who sauntered over to light a cigarette with a twig from the fire.
"What about the cattle?" She
"A couple of miles up the road there's a creek. Get there as quickly as you can and get a fire going. There's plenty of driftwood around. I don't want to waste much time. Rustle up some food for us."
"Yes, boss." She saluted.
His mouth tightened. "None of your lip, either."
It gave her a perverse kind of pleasure getting under his skin, but she must not overplay her hand. What would he do if he did discover her gender? Fire her immediately. It went without saying. Turn her into the law for being an imposter and taking money under false pretences? Her mouth dried at the thought, and her hands on the reins became suddenly clammy. What would become of Gil if Ross banished them from Devil's Ridge?
"Gidd'up," she yelled at the horse, giving it a couple of quick slaps on the backside to increase its pace. "Can't keep the boss man waiting for his mug of tea."
She gnawed her lip. She hadn't seen Gil since they left the mountains, and every time they were separated it worried her. He always appeared pale and drawn now. Little wonder after nights of fitful sleep, because his nightmares were becoming more frequent and terrifying for him. He would cry out pitifully for the stretcher-bearers, or beg his friends not to let him die. Finally, he would wake up shaking and drenched with perspiration.
Will he ever get better?
Sometimes he seemed to have lost the will to live. Other times he acted as he had been before Gallipoli shattered him, but these occasions were becoming rare. She didn't know what to do about it. She could not let on to Ross the true extent of Gil's condition or he would fire them. He treated Gil well, was very understanding, in fact, but it wasn't fair to expect him to continue employing a man who could not do a full day's work.
I'll speak to Jack. He's a kindly sensible man. She wanted to weep for her once dashing, laughing brother, but could not allow herself the luxury. Boys never cried.
The other men treated her with indifference, obviously not bothered by what they must think was standoffish behavior. The swearing and lurid language they used without a qualm in front of her confirmed that they considered her one of them.
They acted kindly towards to Gil, making sure he did the easiest jobs, not complaining if he rested from his labors sometimes, or if he wandered off to brood on his own. She knew they had covered his absences from Ross on several occasions.
When he was in one of his good moods, they chafed him good-naturedly, but when he became silent and withdrawn they left him in peace. She tried to show her gratitude by making an extra special effort to feed them well.
A creek came into view. Almost hidden by trees, she could easily have passed it without noticing. The wild ducks alerted her to its whereabouts first, then came the calls of other water birds. She pulled the horse up in a clearing. Picking up a kerosene tin by its wire handle she filled it up with cool, clear water and lugged it back to the wagon. The men could replenish their water bottles from here in case the cattle muddied the water when they came down to drink.
"Tea ready yet?" Jack came up to her. "Ross wants to keep the cattle moving. The men will have to come in relays. Once we've eaten we go back to the cattle and relieve the others. All right, boy?"
"Yes. Where's Gil?"
"He's all right. Be here in a minute. He can help you." He winked. "Get him to have a rest in the wagon for a bit. Let him come back with the second bunch of men."
"How you doin', Harry?"
"Good, thanks, Archie." She grinned at the stockman who sauntered over to light a cigarette with a twig from the fire.
"What about the cattle?" She
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