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Authors: A Heart Divided
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are to keep you free from harm; and I want to know where you are and who’s with you at all times. You can live with Mrs Johnston and her clan, and there’s a small space next to the assay office where you can set up in business. Both are far enough away from the hotels to give me at least a chance of sleeping nights.”
“You exaggerate, Sergeant,” said Philip. “My sister is obviously a lady. No one would trouble her.”
Nessa watched the sergeant turn and rake his slow gaze over her brother. “You have no idea of the kind of riff-raff we get here, do you young man?”
“Well. They are a bit rough,” blustered Philip.
“Some of the men here are about as bad as you can find in this world, and don’t you forget it, Ward. Why you had to bring your sister here, I have no idea.”
“There was nowhere else for me to go,” said Nessa quietly. “He had no choice.”
That silenced the Sergeant. There was a touch of approval in his eyes. All she could see when she looked at Philip was his embarrassment, and a kind of hope hidden in his eyes. He was not ready yet to stray too far from the comfort and security she provided, but the sergeant’s offer gave him a perfect compromise. He could come back frequently but still tell himself she was safe enough. Not for the first time, she was forced to realise her baby was growing up. She sighed inwardly.
“Forgive us, Sergeant. Your suggestion is eminently sensible. I will come with you as soon as it suits, to make the arrangements.”
Which was how Nessa came to be standing in front of a small cottage that afternoon, in the far corner of the township and set against a small hill south of where the Arrow River swung sharp left into the hills.
The sergeant had described the cottage as a “substantial home, with all modern comforts”. Nessa looked at the small canvas- and slab-sided hut and thought of quite different words to describe it. Mrs Johnston, though, turned out to be a warm-hearted, big woman who dealt with her brood of young children, the difficulties of caring for a family in this primitive place and the rough courtesies of the goldfield with a ready laugh and unflappable calm.
“A shilling a night for room and meals. Laundry’s extra. Pay me once you get some money. Next week’s no problem,” she said in the bluff, straightforward manner in which, as Nessa was to learn, Mina Johnston approached everything in life.
“About your work,” said the Sergeant as Mina finally wound down. “I’ll get a couple of boys to set you up with the stall next to the Assay office. If any trouble comes up, you will be within shouting distance of the assay agents, and my office when I’m in.”
Nessa could only nod in agreement, feeling rather like a leaf bowling down a river with little to do but let the current take her where it would. All her pride could salvage was to insist on staying in her own tent that night. Philip was to set off in the morning. For one last night, she wanted to hold onto all that was left of the only life she had known, the brother she had cared for since he was so small. Next morning, she watched Philip roll up the tent and collect his newly acquired mining tools, and she forced her lips into her best smile. He had traded in their faithful horse to pay for his new gear. Horses were no use in the steep tracks up the Arrow Gorge.
Mostly, she was worried about him. He was so young. That’s what she told herself anyway. The clenching in her guts was not panic at the thought of being left on her own.
“Look after yourself,” she said as she fussed over his bags. She was about to check inside his bedroll, but the look of shocked pride on his face made her pull back. Everything suddenly seemed topsy-turvy in this frontier world.
She was more than relieved to see the solid figure of Sergeant Garret. He watched with her as Philip strode across the upper bank and disappeared into the dark cavern of the gorge without even one cheery wave as he
“You exaggerate, Sergeant,” said Philip. “My sister is obviously a lady. No one would trouble her.”
Nessa watched the sergeant turn and rake his slow gaze over her brother. “You have no idea of the kind of riff-raff we get here, do you young man?”
“Well. They are a bit rough,” blustered Philip.
“Some of the men here are about as bad as you can find in this world, and don’t you forget it, Ward. Why you had to bring your sister here, I have no idea.”
“There was nowhere else for me to go,” said Nessa quietly. “He had no choice.”
That silenced the Sergeant. There was a touch of approval in his eyes. All she could see when she looked at Philip was his embarrassment, and a kind of hope hidden in his eyes. He was not ready yet to stray too far from the comfort and security she provided, but the sergeant’s offer gave him a perfect compromise. He could come back frequently but still tell himself she was safe enough. Not for the first time, she was forced to realise her baby was growing up. She sighed inwardly.
“Forgive us, Sergeant. Your suggestion is eminently sensible. I will come with you as soon as it suits, to make the arrangements.”
Which was how Nessa came to be standing in front of a small cottage that afternoon, in the far corner of the township and set against a small hill south of where the Arrow River swung sharp left into the hills.
The sergeant had described the cottage as a “substantial home, with all modern comforts”. Nessa looked at the small canvas- and slab-sided hut and thought of quite different words to describe it. Mrs Johnston, though, turned out to be a warm-hearted, big woman who dealt with her brood of young children, the difficulties of caring for a family in this primitive place and the rough courtesies of the goldfield with a ready laugh and unflappable calm.
“A shilling a night for room and meals. Laundry’s extra. Pay me once you get some money. Next week’s no problem,” she said in the bluff, straightforward manner in which, as Nessa was to learn, Mina Johnston approached everything in life.
“About your work,” said the Sergeant as Mina finally wound down. “I’ll get a couple of boys to set you up with the stall next to the Assay office. If any trouble comes up, you will be within shouting distance of the assay agents, and my office when I’m in.”
Nessa could only nod in agreement, feeling rather like a leaf bowling down a river with little to do but let the current take her where it would. All her pride could salvage was to insist on staying in her own tent that night. Philip was to set off in the morning. For one last night, she wanted to hold onto all that was left of the only life she had known, the brother she had cared for since he was so small. Next morning, she watched Philip roll up the tent and collect his newly acquired mining tools, and she forced her lips into her best smile. He had traded in their faithful horse to pay for his new gear. Horses were no use in the steep tracks up the Arrow Gorge.
Mostly, she was worried about him. He was so young. That’s what she told herself anyway. The clenching in her guts was not panic at the thought of being left on her own.
“Look after yourself,” she said as she fussed over his bags. She was about to check inside his bedroll, but the look of shocked pride on his face made her pull back. Everything suddenly seemed topsy-turvy in this frontier world.
She was more than relieved to see the solid figure of Sergeant Garret. He watched with her as Philip strode across the upper bank and disappeared into the dark cavern of the gorge without even one cheery wave as he
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