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Authors: Margaret Tanner
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best."
She reached out to touch his hand and he jerked it away. "Don't fire him, he'll get better, I know he will."
"Face facts," he said, sounding deliberately brutal, as if he didn't think she knew how ill Gilbert was. "Your brother will only get worse without treatment."
"No."
"Yes. He's withdrawing into his own dark, little world, a place where you can't follow him."
Tears sprang to her eyes. "He just needs time."
"I'm sorry, boy."
"He will get better."
"All right, after Gilbert's helped you load up here send him back to me, will you?"
"Yes." She swallowed quickly. "Thank you."
* * *
Ross strode over to Gilbert. He stared into his empty eyes and shivered, even though heat poured down from the sky. The boy's face was deathly white, his upper lip beaded with perspiration as he absently rubbed the end of his stump against his trouser leg. Up and down, slowly, aimlessly.
"Gilbert. Gilbert," he raised his voice a little. "Help your brother."
"I don't have a brother. I'll be seeing my mates soon."
"What? For God's sake, get a grip on yourself, boy. They're dead."
"I know, but I'll be seeing them soon. I can hear their voices in my head, calling me back. Tell me you can hear them, too," he pleaded
"No. Forget Gallipoli, for God's sake. You're here in Australia now."
"They want me to join them. I can't let my mates down."
The blankness in his eyes momentarily changed into a burning light, so intense Ross turned his head away. When he faced the boy again, his eyes were fathomless, like deep, unchartered waters where no mere mortal could go.
There was a transiency about Gilbert Martin now, an aura that somehow filled him with dread. He had seen death before, lived with it, touched and smelt it for weeks on end, but this seemed somehow worse. This boy, though he still breathed, was dead, but the angel of death, by some twist of fate, had not yet come to claim him.
"Help your brother." He leaned down and touched the boy's shoulder. "Join me with the cattle when you're ready."
He walked away, shaking his head. When they got to the railhead something would have to be done about him.
* * *
After the men left to tend the cattle, Harry washed and packed everything away. Gil still sat under the tree. She waited until the very last minute before bringing his horse over to him.
"We're ready to go now."
"All right." He climbed unsteadily to his feet, shaking his head as if trying to clear it.
"I'll catch up with you later." She kissed his cheek.
He caught her in a bear hug. "Goodbye, Harry." With unusual energy that gave her hope, he leapt on his horse and rode away.
Chapter Five
They camped that night near a river. While Harry prepared their food, Ross and a couple of men went to wash. Gil and Jack were still out with the cattle and would eat later on.
The meal was ready, so where were the men? She fumed. Ross castigated her all the time over the slightest little infringement to his exacting standards, though he didn't care how he upset the order of things when he wanted to do something.
She stormed towards the river. Oh, God, if only she hadn't! The angry tirade she was about to unleash jammed in her throat. Ross and the men were naked! Stark naked! Like carefree children, they frolicked in knee deep water. Her legs nearly buckled. She wanted to turn tail and run, but somehow her feet wouldn't move.
"Come on, Harry," Ross invited. "It's shallow, but it's cool."
"No thanks. Food's nearly ready."
"It can wait. Why don't you have a wash, you dirty little bugger?" He strode towards her, completely unconcerned about his nakedness.
She tried to focus on a point near his shoulder, not below his waist, but of their own volition her eyes honed in on that forbidden place. What a fine specimen of manhood. The other men looked fit, but not a patch on him. Her insides clenched as if some giant hand opened and closed deep within her stomach. As he drew nearer, her legs froze. To save her life
She reached out to touch his hand and he jerked it away. "Don't fire him, he'll get better, I know he will."
"Face facts," he said, sounding deliberately brutal, as if he didn't think she knew how ill Gilbert was. "Your brother will only get worse without treatment."
"No."
"Yes. He's withdrawing into his own dark, little world, a place where you can't follow him."
Tears sprang to her eyes. "He just needs time."
"I'm sorry, boy."
"He will get better."
"All right, after Gilbert's helped you load up here send him back to me, will you?"
"Yes." She swallowed quickly. "Thank you."
* * *
Ross strode over to Gilbert. He stared into his empty eyes and shivered, even though heat poured down from the sky. The boy's face was deathly white, his upper lip beaded with perspiration as he absently rubbed the end of his stump against his trouser leg. Up and down, slowly, aimlessly.
"Gilbert. Gilbert," he raised his voice a little. "Help your brother."
"I don't have a brother. I'll be seeing my mates soon."
"What? For God's sake, get a grip on yourself, boy. They're dead."
"I know, but I'll be seeing them soon. I can hear their voices in my head, calling me back. Tell me you can hear them, too," he pleaded
"No. Forget Gallipoli, for God's sake. You're here in Australia now."
"They want me to join them. I can't let my mates down."
The blankness in his eyes momentarily changed into a burning light, so intense Ross turned his head away. When he faced the boy again, his eyes were fathomless, like deep, unchartered waters where no mere mortal could go.
There was a transiency about Gilbert Martin now, an aura that somehow filled him with dread. He had seen death before, lived with it, touched and smelt it for weeks on end, but this seemed somehow worse. This boy, though he still breathed, was dead, but the angel of death, by some twist of fate, had not yet come to claim him.
"Help your brother." He leaned down and touched the boy's shoulder. "Join me with the cattle when you're ready."
He walked away, shaking his head. When they got to the railhead something would have to be done about him.
* * *
After the men left to tend the cattle, Harry washed and packed everything away. Gil still sat under the tree. She waited until the very last minute before bringing his horse over to him.
"We're ready to go now."
"All right." He climbed unsteadily to his feet, shaking his head as if trying to clear it.
"I'll catch up with you later." She kissed his cheek.
He caught her in a bear hug. "Goodbye, Harry." With unusual energy that gave her hope, he leapt on his horse and rode away.
Chapter Five
They camped that night near a river. While Harry prepared their food, Ross and a couple of men went to wash. Gil and Jack were still out with the cattle and would eat later on.
The meal was ready, so where were the men? She fumed. Ross castigated her all the time over the slightest little infringement to his exacting standards, though he didn't care how he upset the order of things when he wanted to do something.
She stormed towards the river. Oh, God, if only she hadn't! The angry tirade she was about to unleash jammed in her throat. Ross and the men were naked! Stark naked! Like carefree children, they frolicked in knee deep water. Her legs nearly buckled. She wanted to turn tail and run, but somehow her feet wouldn't move.
"Come on, Harry," Ross invited. "It's shallow, but it's cool."
"No thanks. Food's nearly ready."
"It can wait. Why don't you have a wash, you dirty little bugger?" He strode towards her, completely unconcerned about his nakedness.
She tried to focus on a point near his shoulder, not below his waist, but of their own volition her eyes honed in on that forbidden place. What a fine specimen of manhood. The other men looked fit, but not a patch on him. Her insides clenched as if some giant hand opened and closed deep within her stomach. As he drew nearer, her legs froze. To save her life
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