# Yesterday's Tomorrow



## riggerismybaby (May 12, 2018)

_*Chapter Two*_

Birds of the morning sang out their song as the sun broke through the Mosby's selection. Emma led April their family cow upto the barn to be milked. April walked straight to where a pile of hay was waiting for her. Emma sat herself on the milking stool sighed as she stripped milk into the bucket. Patrick had been on her mind all night, she hadn't slept. It had been four days since the Harvest dance and he hadn't come to call yet. Thinking he would have at least sent word to her by now, Emma was distraught. He probably had forgotten her by now, forgotten the promise he made, the long walks and horseback rides on his gelding through the country. Maybe he had met a woman elsewhere better than she, one that had money behind her or one that wore pretty dresses whose finger nails weren't dirty from working on the land and house. She ached to see him, her father had said he would come calling as soon as he could, and not to worry. Her mother however didn't try comfort her.

"Why are you so worried about it. You need to be looking for someone who is well off and makes enough a year to give you a house with proper furniture and comforts... not a fellow like Patrick who has nothing to his name who like your father did to me, will make you live in a hut"

That's what her mother had to say about it. Her mother had married her father when he was a co-owner of a furniture company in Melbourne, but the company had gone bankrupt overnight, and Jack Mosby, his wife, and two young children were forced to sell what they had and Jack had settled here in Merimbula on a small selection of land that he raised a handful of cattle on and grew potatoes, like his ancestors in Ireland. Emma loved it here, she was glad they had settled in the country, even as a young 7 yr old she had hated the city. Katy, however, complained that coming here was the ruin of her, even though she was only 4 at the time, she was adamant her life would have been better living the high life as an upper class without having to worry about where the next meal would come from and bath in strawberries.

The sooner she married the better, as soon as she knew that father had made any extra earnings she and mother went straight to the store and ordered a new hat, gloves or something out of the catalog knowing that father would have to pay with the extra cash he had earned or have a running debt. Emma felt sorry for her father. She wished she were a boy so that she could take on the selection for him, but then she would not be able to marry Patrick..... Ah, the woes in life. Most women married for money and living comforts... wealth would be the word. Her mother married her father because he was well off at the time. More country folk married for love maybe because they didn't have the luxury of wealth most of the time. Why was a class so important anyway. Why did the people who had to work harder in life to get by having to have the worst end of society's stick? The world would be a much better place if the well to do people helped out the less well to do or try to understand the hardship they went through to feed their families. Something that always stood out to Emma was how the poorer folk always seemed happier. They were grateful for everything and worked together as a family to get by; of course, everybody had arguments ups and downs but on a whole, those who had less seemed so much happier than those who had everything... Everything except appreciation and love.

Leaving April to wander out of the barn as she pleased, Emma carried the milk inside to where her father was lighting the fire for her. "Thank You Papa" she smiled kissing the top of his head.

"I'm going to be heading to the O'Connor's today, and was wondering if you would like to come for a ride?" He asked with a twinkle in his eye.

"Oh yes please!" She grinned throwing her arms around his neck.

He lifted her off the ground and twirled her around in a circle like he used to do when she was a small child. "You're a fine woman Emma Mosby," He told her.

He put her down and fetched his pipe of the mantle above the fire.

" 'Tis a shame your sister didn't inherit the same kind nature that you have"

"Don't say such things, Papa!"

He shook his head and chuckled "See what I mean"

She threw a pot mitten at him smiling to herself. She knew he had a soft spot for her, but still, she wouldn't like Katy to overhear him speak of such things, or they would have a riot on their hands.

Emma began making loaves of bread, making sure to she had one to take with her to the O'Connor's. Today she would be able to see Patrick. At long last!

While the bread rose she prepared breakfast heating up a jar of beans for her father to have with his eggs. She placed slices of bread on the hot plate and the coffee beside it. Her mother and sister wouldn't stir for some time yet so she didn't bother with theirs. She prepared oats in a pot for them to make their own porridge when they awakened from their indulged slumber.

Her father seated himself at the head of the table puffing his pipe and reading one of the papers that Johnny had brought the day before. He rubbed his mustache as he read.

"The banks are running out of money" He said aloud.

"Bound to happen" Emma said stirring the beans around the pan, making room for the eggs.

"Maybe Sally will be right after all" He sighed.

"What? You mean selling?" Emma frowned.

"Yes Emma dearest, the banks are closing and if the harvest doesn't bring in enough no one will be able to afford feed for the stock. Not those of us with beef... and because the banks will have closed no one can get a loan for things like feed"

Emma poured him a cup of coffee and placed it before him then went back to the stove spread a layer of butter on his toast.

"Maybe just maybe we will be one who has to sell" He mused.

"Let's not talk of just maybes," Emma said

"Indeed, let's not... let's thank the Lord for this fine breakfast he has allowed you to prepare for us this fine morning," He said tossing the paper aside.

Emma placed his plate of steaming food before him and sat herself down letting him say a prayer of thanks before getting back up to put the bread loaves in the stove to bake.

After breakfast Emma packed a basket with a fresh loaf of bread, a pound of fresh butter which she had made earlier that morning and some jars of preserved pears to take with her to the O'connors. Changing out of her home farm dress and into her more presentable day dress she put on her shoes and met her father outside by the barn astride his big draft cross thoroughbred gelding, Bentley. Passing him the basket, she hitched her skirt up high enough to swing her leg over Bentley's rump; using the water trough to help hoist herself onto the massive horse, taking the basket from him once she had adjusted her skirt. They chatted about the dry season and how all the farmers would have to lean on each other to pull through this year, as they rode to the O'Connors farm.

A line of ring barked ******** marked the border of the O'Connors property, lazy red Hereford cattle stared at the horse and riders as they strode down the path. The back of their selection was uncleared timber that Mr. O'Connor fell and sold as lumber to the local mill. It was a good way to keep an income coming in. The community often came to the O'Connors for lumber if they needed it, it was cheaper for them than paying the mill for the lumber and the O'Connors always got a fair price for it.

The house came into view, a black and brown dog scampered towards them then hurried back to the house barking to let the O'Connors know of the visitors.

Mr. Mosby pulled his mount up at the barn and tethered him to the hitching post by the trough.

Together father and daughter made their way to the house, where they could see smoke puffing from the chimney. The house sat on the ground; the front is just a hut that Mr. O'Connor had added onto over the years. A neat pile of wood was stacked outside the front door under the window, the ledge above had freshly baked pies cooling on it. The front door opened and Mrs. O'Connor greeted them with a smile wiping her hands on her grubby apron.

"Good morning Jack," She said "Emma it's lovely to see you"

"Morning Edith, I thought Jake could use a hand with the harvest being ill and all" Mr. Mosby said removing his felt hat.

"We certainly could use the extra hand that's for sure!" Mrs. O'Connor said with an appreciative smile.

She led them into the house, despite working the land just as hard as any man she wasn't a little woman, her waist was as thick as a calf being fattened for market. She had the greatest personality though, so kind-hearted. Being able to outwork a lot of the boys and scrub up like a proper lady minutes later while cooking up a feast. If a guest turned up unexpectantly she somehow managed to have a hot meal for them to sit down and eat, even if things were really tough and they were barely managing. Yes, she was an amazing one of a kind sort of woman.

Emma placed the basket on the table. "Thought you'd be able to make use of these," She said kindly.

".God bless you dearest!" Mrs. O'Connor said embracing her.

Emma loved this woman, she never had a bad word to say about anyone.

Mr. O'Connor entered the house looking very poorly indeed, he was leaning on a stick that he was using to walk with. His face was pale and should have been in bed resting up, but like most men... there was no stopping them. He had taken a fall and got a fever while recovering from the fall, which had taken its toll on him terribly.

"Jack, how are you old fella?" He asked holding out his hand

Mr. Mosby shook his hand with a smile "Still walking" He chuckled.

"Sit down, sit down" He urged pulling out a chair for Mr. Mosby.

Mr. Mosby happily took the offered chair and pulled his pipe out of his top pocket, clearly preparing for a good yarn.

"I will put a coffee on" Mrs. O'Connor said heading to the small kitchen that extended off the main room.

Mr. O'Connor saw Emma and motioned for the barn "You will find the lad tending to the horses"

Emma blushed and nodded her head in thanks. Before anyone could stop her she rushed out the door.

Patrick!! Her stomach was in knots and her hands were tingling. Oh she could barely walk to the barn, she would trip up she was sure of it. She got her composure and walked to the barn, steadying her racing heart. Her Patty was here in the barn she thought as she neared the entrance. Three years suddenly felt like an entire world ago.

The barn smelled of fresh hay and horse manure, she could hear him whistling down the far end of the horse boxes, whistling the same tune he always had when working 'Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay'; pausing for a moment she fixed her hair and brushed dust from her blouse, then she took a couple of steps towards the whistling, then stopped again. Suddenly feeling weak. What if he didn't want to see her at all and that was why he hadn't made a notion to contact her. What if he brushed her aside? She wanted to vomit. Why couldn't she get her thoughts straight? Her heart was pumping, she had waited three years for this moment. Planned the rest of her life with this man... this man she had not seen since she was 16. A lot can change in three years. She turned with the urge to leave just as he walked out of the loose box and saw her standing there clutching handfuls of the skirt in her fist.Confusion was written all over her face. He stared at her for a split second, looking her up and down. He hates me she thought, wanting to run.

"EMMA!" He almost yelled running to her, scooping her up in his strong arms and spinning around. "Oh my darling it's been so long"

All her fears melted away at that moment, she buried her head into his shoulder and laughed with excitement and relief. He smelt of hay and dirt like every man should. It wasn't a bad smell just a hard working smell. Feeling awfully silly for thinking all those thoughts moments earlier she squeezed him tight. Her heart felt like it had melted like butter on a Summer's day. Her knees were weak so it was lucky that he was holding her in his embrace or she would have surely sunk to the ground.

He put her back on her feet and held her back "Let me look at you"

Once she was sure her knees would take her weight Emma stood back and let him take her in. His expression showed that he was not disappointed one bit.

"Emma darling, you've grown into the most beautiful woman I've ever laid eyes on. Look at you!" He said at long last. Grinning from ear to ear.

Emma gave a twirl and threw her arms around his neck. "I've missed you so much and I've been worried sick about you. I thought I'd see you at the dance and you weren't there, then I thought you'd call in at the house or send word... but you didn't and I thought you did not wish to see me and" She said in one breath.

Patrick placed a hand over her mouth laughing "Hush! I was supposed to be at the dance, I even bought a new shirt for it, but the water had run dry, so I've been digging a waterhole for the stock"

He wrapped his arms around her as he spoke " I haven't left the farm since coming home. I hadn't forgotten you and I've been aching to see you my darling. I've been aching to see you for three long years"

Emma wrapped her arms around his waist and closed her eyes "I've missed you so much, Patty. So much"

They stood in their embrace for sometime before Patrick took her up in his arms and spun around hollering out in excitement. He had grown into a handsome young man. His face was growing stubble that she could see he kept at a certain length and his hair was just long enough to curl above his ears. He had left three years ago as a tall lanky 18-year-old boy. He had come back much bigger muscle wise... taking the lanky look away and filling out his height. His blue eyes looked deep into hers. She didn't want him to look away, she wanted to get lost in the ocean of blue for a while longer. Leaning down he pressed his lips to her forehead.

"It's so good to hold you again," He said softly.

Emma smiled up at him, she didn't need to reply, her eyes answered for her.

Nothing her mother said about marrying into a better life would ever matter to her. Here was where she wanted to be for always, even if that meant they lived in a bark hut with barely anything to eat, giving up home comforts. She would wake up every morning to see the man she truly loved and to her, that was all that mattered. Katy can be the one to marry into some rich family and make their mother the proudest women on earth, solely because she would benefit from it.


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## GMA100 (Apr 8, 2016)

Following.


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## knightrider (Jun 27, 2014)

> Sally was a gossiper, and she always managed to add a donkey's leg to the story



This is great! I love the local expressions. Can't wait to read more!


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## riggerismybaby (May 12, 2018)

*Chapter Three*





This year had been too dry, the creek on the O'Connors selection had only ever run dry once that Patrick could remember, he stood on the bank with the mongrel dog sitting at his feet eagerly watching the red Herefords that were starting to amble closer to the young man. Patrick ran his hand through his hair, the water was barely running. There wouldn't be enough to keep the stock watered... the creek shouldn't be running so low. A farmer up creek from them must have built in his part of the creek to hold back water for himself. Irritated Patrick picked up a shovel and turned from the water's edge. He would have to dig his own waterhole of sorts for the cattle. The big dance at the Big House was being held tonight, he had wanted to go so badly so he could see his darling sweetheart, Emma Mosby. He hadn't seen her for three long years. Had she changed? Had she met anyone who had stolen his place in her heart? He was scared to find out. She was so beautiful, her brown eyes always lit up when she looked at him. The faint smell of lavender in her hair, he missed that... the way her dainty hand fit perfectly in his. He knew that she would do anything for him, her sweet innocent love for him was so perfect. Like a puppy wanting to please it's master yet still have the guts to play. Emma kind of reminded him of that. She had this cheeky streak in her that kept on his toes. Or the moments she was so excited about something that she'd dance around him singing at the top of her lungs with a twinkle in her eye. He loved her so much. He had promised her that when he had enough he would come home for her and make a start. She promised she would be here waiting, and he knew that she would, he knew that she needn't had promised that. Patrick felt a heaviness in the pit of his stomach, guilt burning through him. How will she react when she found out?. How was he even going to tell her? Maybe he shouldn't tell her? Swallowing hard he pushed it out of his mind making a mental note to ask Rosie Boyd about it. She would know how to deal with the matter in the most mature way. He could trust her.

"Chap!" He called to the dog who was starting to herd the cattle without instruction. "Come here ya mongrel animal"

The dog sprinted back and sat on top of Patrick's feet, tongue hanging out of his head. Patrick swore he was smiling at him.

"You have the bloody nerve"

He pushed the dog aside and trudged across the flat to where he knew an underground spring flowed. He drove his shovel into earth focusing on rich soil breaking around the blade of the steel cutting into it. This could easily take him a week or more to dig on his own. He would miss the dance, but it brought him more time to think about how he will sort things out. The ground was becoming too hard for the shovel so he began using a pick to loosen the solid earth, his shirt became wet with his sweat as he drove the sharp pointed tool into the ground. Once the earth was loosened up he shoveled it out.

Chap sat on his haunches watching every his owner contently with one eye on the cattle.

Mr. O'Connor drove down with his wife in the sulky later that afternoon.

"We figured you won't make it to the dance so we have brought a basket down" His mother said climbing down from the sulky.

Patrick dropped his shovel and went to give her a kiss on the cheek "God bless you Ma"

He helped his father from the sulky and told him how low the creek was. Mr. O'Connor nodded and went to expect the waterhole that was now waist deep.

Chap trotted beside the old man careful not to get in the way of the stick that he was using to support himself.

Mrs. O'Connor passed her son some water and fished around the basket for something. "I have brought a pie down" she said "Figured you'd be hungry and wouldn't be in until darks so we can all eat here together"

From the sulky she pulled down a blanket and laid it on the ground, setting out a feast of pie, boiled potatoes corn and beans and scones... how on earth did she fit it all in the basket was beyond Patrick but he was grateful. He settled down on the blanket leaning against the sulky wheel. He looked over at his father who was poking his stick into the earth chewing on his lip.

"Reckon he's impressed?"

Mrs. O'Connor let her gaze rest on her husband "Of course he is! He certainly couldn't dig a hole that deep so quick... even on a good day!" She smiled.

"Of course he could, where else did I get my work ethic from?"

"Myself son" She said with a wink.

He laughed and agreed to know his work ethic did come from his dear mother.

Patrick grabbed a scone and shared it with Chap who had crept back as soon as he had caught the smell of the food.

Mr. O'Connor came back looking satisfied "Good job, I reckon you aren't far from hitting liquid gold"

"Hopefully not," Patrick said "If I'm digging water holes this early, I hate to think of what will happen come to Summertime"

"Don't worry about that yet?" Mr. O'Connor said helping himself to the scones.

Patrick watched little Willy Wag Tails jumped around on the ground then sore up into the sky chasing one another, suddenly diving back to the ground and whipping back up last minute. He knew that the place would suffer come Summer time but his father didn't need the worry of it so he decided not to mention any more about it. While he was working in New South Wales he had heard talk of the economy collapsing at the time he had brushed it off as just talk but now he saw that it was true; banks were running out of money, workers were going on strike in some places, squatters were burning places down, especially those who spoke of the new binders that would be coming and reapers that would put them out of a job. Picking at the grass he wondered how he would keep this place running, keep his savings and keep his promise to Emma.

He ate his meal without an appetite. If his mother hadn't gone to such an effort cooking and bringing it all the way down here he would have tossed it to the dog without hesitation.

.....

Darkness engulfed the landscape, it was so black that Patrick couldn't make out his hand in front of him, must be overcast. Maybe rain was on the way. Either way, the darkness was in his favor as he didn't want to be able to be seen. A light breeze blew rustling the leaves on the weeping willows that sat at the bank of the creek. The wind was light but it would carry noise to anyone with an open ear. Patrick took extra caution to creep as quietly as he could. He was going to find out who had blocked the creek. It was not dry enough for the creek not to run so someone between the Mosby's and himself had built it up to hold water for themselves. He knew it wasn't the Mosby's but couldn't be certain if the two farmers in between would have or not. Keeping on the sandy creek bed so he could feel how low the water as he continued onward as silent as an animal in the bush. Grateful to the aboriginal stock hands he had worked with during the last three years, who had taught him how to track and become silent in the bush.

He didn't actually think he'd ever use this skill to trespass and tamper with someone else's property, but in order to help him and other farmers further down from him, he saw it as the only option.

Water splashed further up the creek as if an animal was walking through it. Patrick stood still and listened. He heard four strides in the rhythm of a heavy animal walking. A human's stride was faster and if you paid attention to how animals walked you could pick up the rhythm of their strides. Chsshh Chsshh Chsshh Chsshh. Was the kind of rhythm a four-legged animal made when crossing a berth of water, whereas a humans stride was shorter. The built-up area of the creek was just ahead because down here it wasn't width enough for the length of his two feet.

Crouching down he crept closer and closer feeling for anything to tell him that he had found what was blocking the water. He felt something rough and cold against his hand, it was oddly shaped and there seemed to be a whole lot it in a straight line across the width of the creek; water trickled through whatever it was. Rock!! Someone had made a rock wall to dam the water. Patrick carefully picked up each rock and moving them aside. Water gushed through soaking his trousers almost to his knees.

"Three days I dug that hole, all for nothing, bloody hell" He muttered.

He knew that he would have had to have dug it later on in the year anyway, but he could have gone to that dance! Emma must be worried sick by now. He sprang out of the creek turning for home. He had no idea how far up the creek he had walked, therefore didn't know whose property he was on. Someone with cows... He could hear their long lonesome calls in the darkness not far off. Everyone around here had cows though... he would find out later in daylight who it was, now that the dirty work was done.

Chap met him at the barn, wagging his tail and growling from his throat which he always did when excited. "You been waiting for me ey" He was a good dog, despite driving everyone insane and rounding up the cows for no reason, killing the odd chicken, he was truly the most loyal dog. He had been the one to warn Mrs. O'Connor of his fathers to fall from his horse. He has raced home and dragged his mother by her skirt until she had willingly followed him to where her husband lay unconscious on the roadside.

He settled Chap by the fire in the house and tried to catch to sleep while he could before the sun came up in the next couple of hours.

.......

He decided not to mention anything about his whereabouts last night and ate his breakfast in silence, listening to his mother talk about the rumor Sally was spreading about farmers selling. Sadly Sally may actually be right this time he thought to himself.

"Even if is true, why dampen everyone's spirits,?" She said buttering a slice of bread.

"You know Sally... can't help herself"

"Gaww no point wasting my breath on the subject" She said to herself shoving bread into her mouth. "I have pies to make"

Patrick finished his cup of coffee and left her to baking.

Out in the barn, he found the harness that needed to be repaired before he could get the binder out for the harvest. He sat on a pile of hay settling the leather collar on his lap, absent-minded he repaired the rips that had been left unattended for some time now. He shoved the Baldy Grass back inside the collar as best he could before stitching it up as best he could. Wasn't the best of stitching jobs and pieces of the stuffing jutted out between stitches but it would hold it together long enough to make it through the harvest.

A fat cat pounced down from a beam and spread herself out by the barn entrance. Patrick had forgotten that they had a cat. It came as a stray kitten years ago and just never left. She was a pretty animal, ginger like a chestnut horse. He watched her roll out on her back and soak up the morning sun paying no head to him. She had the good life he thought. Eating mice, and lying around being fat all day. Not that he'd like to lie around all day himself.

The soft nicker of the horses broke into his daydream of being a cat. Sliding off the hay he hung up the harness and carted hay out to the paddock that adjoined the barn. He spread the hay out in a line and then leaving the gate open he went back to the barn and fumbled around with the latch on the loose box before letting the four horses out. They trotted straight to the open paddock and stuck their noses into the hay. He followed them so he could close the gate.

"Morning son" Mr. O'Connor called.

"Going for a walk Pa?"

Mr. O'Connor nodded. "I'm getting some birds"

Patrick noticed the .410 gauge shotgun slung over his shoulder and nodded.

He went back to the barn to muck out loose boxes. He didn't mind mucking out, he could do it without thinking and he didn't feel like thinking right now. It just confusing. Women thought all the time... they must always feel confused a lot. It was impossible for their minds to think of nothing. He'd go mad if couldn't think of nothing. He satisfied himself with the thought that women were always confused and began to whistle his favorite tune. Ta-ra-ra Boom-de-ay.

After mucking out one stall he took the soiled straw in a barrow out to the muck heap beside the pigsty vaguely aware that he had heard Mr. Mosby's voice. Probably here to help out with the harvest. He was a good neighbor. He would have to ask him if he knew about anyone holding up the creek water, or if he would help him find out who it was. Patrick wasn't certain of who lived between them anymore, if the same farmers were there or if new people had moved in. He planned on finding out though. 

Mice crept out from a crack in the wall and scampered past his feet almost like they were playing tag. The Ginger cat was after them in seconds, chasing them right up the beams

He spread fresh straw on the floor of the loose box, whistling all the while.

Wiping his hands on his trousers he let himself out of the loose box and thought about heading down to check the creek. He looked up and saw a very confused looking woman standing in the middle of the barn, staring at him. She was beautiful. He was captivated by her round eyes, he could have got lost in them. He noticed her fine figure and then realized that it was his darling Emma.

His heart rushed and everything left his mind, everything he just wanted to hold her, squeeze her. Tell her how beautiful she was. He thought his heart might actually burst at this moment. Three long years. He thought as he yelled her name and ran to her. Scooping her up. Her hair still had the beautiful hint lavender. She had grown into the most beautiful woman he had laid eyes on.

He forgot the guilty feeling that had been eating at him since coming home, he forgot everything except holding her in his arms.


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## riggerismybaby (May 12, 2018)

Chapter Four

The sun had barely broken the horizon when local squatters began to gather outside the McCaig's barn, chewing tobacco and smoking pipes while bantering amongst themselves, stroking their bushy beards. Dog's trotted about, excited for the day ahead. Women and children sat in wagons nearby waiting to drive out to the first acres to be harvested. Yellow lantern lights from the big house broke through the dim light looking almost eerie. Young men stacked sharpened Scythes and hay rakes on the hay cart which had six draft horses hitched up to it.

Emma loved the harvest season. Nothing better than getting out and working in the paddock from sun up until sundown... maybe she should have been born a man. She weaved her way through the group until she found Rosie. The two of them raced to the hay cart that was being stacked with tools by the men and scrambled up. It was a tradition that they always rode the hay cart up and not in the wagons with the other women.

"Are we rolling into stacks this year, or making sheaves?" Emma asked

"I think McCaig wants both done this year" Rosie answered

"If we do sheaves, first to fifty wins and the loser has to walk behind the hay cart all the way back," Johnny said as he laid a pile of rakes on the wagon, having overheard them.

Rosie rolled her eyes, "You aren't raking or making sheaves"

Johnny grinned "I know"

"Fine, you have to piggyback the loser all the way back" Rosie grinned.

Johnny let his eyes rest on Emma and smiled "Done deal"

Rosie held her hand out for him to shake.

Emma looked away from his eyes with a half a smile and made a mental note to make sure she won. She wasn't going to lose on this one, not with Patrick now home. She forgot to ask Rosie about what Johnny thought of her on the night of the dance. Oh well, there would be plenty of time during the day to do so. She didn't want to hurt Johnny he was a really good kind-hearted man who deserved a good wife, but it wasn't to be her, Patrick had her heart and that's where she belonged.

McCaig rode down from the Big House on his dapple grey thoroughbred. Everybody fell silent waiting to hear him speak. He was a very well respected man in this district and helped anyone who needed help. See how he was how all first class squatters and people should be! Emma thought to herself. People helping people.

"Good morning folks" His voice cracked the morning's stillness.

"The good Lord has brought us a good day for harvest this year so let us give Him a word of thanks before we commence"

Everyman removed his hat and bowed his head, nobody spoke, each said his own prayer of thanks and those who were nonbelievers stayed silent with respect for those who did.

"Lord, we thank you for this day and for the people who have come to here this morning to help with the harvest and we ask for your blessing on us and the harvest this year" Mr. McCaig said in Brother O'Hara's stead.

Looking back up as he chewed his lower lip, his eyes rested on Sally for a moment then back over the crowd.

"I've heard a rumor saying that some locals will be selling up due to not having enough to harvest. I would like to put an end to the worry because those of you who don't have enough can come and get what they need from me. We need to work together as a community to get by this year and I won't stand to see people driven out"

A round of applause went around and some hearty cheers.

"With all that said, climb up on some wagons and let's get our hands dirty before the day is over"

There was a bustle of movement as men mounted horses, dogs barked, harnesses jingled and people made their way to one of the wagons that were taking those without a mount to the first lot to be cut.

Out in the field, men held Scythes and lined up in a row, giving each other a wide berth so they wouldn't clash blades. The women picked up rakes and waited for a good distance behind the men.

Emma spied Patrick in the row of men and smiled to herself. He looked very mature standing up there with the morning sunrise making him a silhouette. Rosie stood beside her and took in the view of men.

"I wish I could paint or draw or something of such art, because wouldn't this sight look marvelous in a frame on the wall" She breathed

"Yes. Yes, it would!" Emma agreed.

She lent her chin on the top of the rake she was holding "You could learn how to paint"

"I'm far too busy to add another hobby to my list" Rosie laughed

McCaig took his position up the front on the count of the three the men all swung their scythes in unison and cut the grass close to the ground, then taking a step forward and swung again. Moving forward was slow but it was easy enough work on day one. Tomorrow would be harder when their bodies ached from today.

Once they were a safe distance ahead the women raked the cut grass into a windrow, which was a long pile as they rolled the loose cut grass into a long line following the men, the younger children and some women would rake the windrow out, spreading the grass out flat an even so it would dry out. After they had completed three or four windrows they would go back to the first windrow and turn it over to dry the underside. The day warmed up rather quickly and soon sweat was dripping off everyone. Beads of sweat run down Emma's forehead and into her eyes she ignored and continued flattening out the windrow. There had been no mention of making sheaves which she was so glad of, that means there would be no risk of Johnny carrying her home, or her hurting him by refusing.

She walked over to where Rosie was retying her bonnet.

"Rosie?" She asked leaning her weight against her rake.

"Yeah?"

"Ummm, does Johnny have feelings for me?" She asked quickly in a whisper.

Rosie stopped what she was doing and sighed almost as if she had been waiting for this conversation. Her face clouded over as she seemed to choose her words carefully.

"Yes, Emma he does" She started to say.

"But he knew I was waiting for Patrick" Emma cut in. Removing the bonnet from her head and using to wipe the sweat from her face.

Rosie took a big breath and took Emma's hand "I know. He has always loved you, Emma. Ever since we were kids, and his love has only grown as time goes by. He has always respected your love for Patrick. Patrick is his friend as well, and he wouldn't steal his friend's girl, but, after we heard that Pat-tr...." She trailed off looking at the ground. "He thought maybe since Patrick had been away for so long, he could win your heart over"

Emma's mind swirled "After you heard what?" She asked

Rosie went back to raking the windrow "Nothing"

"Rosie!" Emma demanded.

"Nothing Emma. Johnny didn't think Patrick was coming back, he thought that he had forgotten his promise."

Emma stared at Rosie's back. She felt that there was a lot more to it than Rosie was letting on. What did they hear? And why didn't she know anything about it?

There was a heaviness in her stomach and a lump in her throat. Had Patrick been unfaithful? Was he never planning on coming home to her? But the day in the barn when he ran to her, that couldn't have been put on.... Could it? Rosie knew something and she wasn't going to tell her, which meant that she must be protecting someone... but why would she protect Patrick?

Emma put her bonnet back on and went back to raking out the windrow. Questions swam through her mind. She felt sick with anxiety and felt numb until Mr.McCaig stopped everyone for a water break and a break. Everybody was thankful for this, they had pushed through almost four hours of nonstop work. It was mid-morning and the light breeze from this morning had disappeared making it a hotter day than they had thought.

Rosie lent her hayrake against the wagon and avoided Emma. Emma watched her go to Johnny and talk with a serious expression. She knew it was about the conversation that they had earlier.

Patrick made his over to her and grinned from ear to ear. His sweat streaked brow had bits of grass sticking to it. The sight of him made Emma forget her worries..

"Feels good working with all the locals again" He smiled drinking a tin cup of water.

"Yes, it really does" Emma agreed standing close enough for her arm to touch his. He quietly linked his index finger with hers and spoke to the squatter next to him about the horse-drawn reaper and it would be worth trying to get one for the district. They did have one but some aboriginals had burned it on them. Patrick agreed sharing his experience of using the steam-powered ones while he was in N.S.Ws. Emma listened to him explain how much time it saved and how convenient it would be especially in a district like ours because we all worked together to bring in each other's harvest, a reaper would speed up the process. While he spoke, his fingers played with Emma's. Out of view from everybody else, with their hands hidden behind her skirt. Even though they had no reason to hide their affection, it made it more exciting.

By the end of the day the men had cut almost ten acres of grass and the women had raked them over eighty windrows. Emma stood back and looked the windrows looking like long lines of rope that rolled with the low hills in the land that spread out before her eyes. The windrows had to sit there now to dry out before they could load them onto the hay wagon. Sometimes this could take two days, but Emma predicted that if the weather stayed as warm as it was today then they would be pitching hay into the hay wagon tomorrow. Emma would make sure that she had Harvey and Dolly's coats shining by tomorrow. Everybody liked to show off their draft horses and Emma always had her families two drafts gleaming and looking like they came from a fine line of breeding. Harvey had actually come from a mare that had rich bloodlines but he was born with a blind eye so the breeder was going to have him shot. Twelve-year-old Emma had been helping his wife with her young children at the time and pleaded with him to let her take Harvey as payment. Her mother went into hysterics when she had seen her leading the colt home one day. Her Papa had smiled and helped her raise him, teaching him to listen to voice commands and training him to pull a wagon. Emma took pride in both drafts, but Harvey especially.

"If yer asks me, those modern machines are the works of the devil," Sally said as people went on their way to home.

"Nobody, did as you Sally" Mrs. Boyd sighed.

Sally sharply drew in her breath, looking hurt.

Emma felt sorry for the women "Oh I don't know Sal, it would make the harvest so much easier and less labor for all of us"

Sally's gave Emma a small smile "Idleness only tempts us to sin does it not?"

"I hardly think saving some hours during harvest would lead us all to idleness!" Mrs. Boyd said standing up as straight as a freshly sawn post."It would give us more time to make jams and preserve fruit for the Summer"

Sally knew that Mrs. Boyd was right but being the stubborn women she was, she would never admit it or change her mind. "Aye, 'tis the devil" She muttered striding ahead of them so no one could call her out on her stubbornness.

Emma chuckled to herself. "Good day ladies. I will see you all tomorrow?"

"Yes Emma, see you tomorrow" They said

Emma hitched up her skirts and took off into a run down the road for home. She had an appetite big enough to eat to eat an entire cow. The gravel crunched under her feet and her hair flew out from under her bonnet, still half in a bun. Without stopping she pushed her bonnet off her head and pulled her hairpins out so her hair tumbled out beside her in the wind created by her speed.

Ahead she saw Patrick walking towards her, she picked up the pace and ran straight towards him. She would run straight into his arms and he would have to pick her up off the ground from the force of it. As she ran she vaguely noticed the figure looked almost confused at her.

Just in a nick of time his arms reach around her, picked her up and swung her off the ground, spinning her in a circle.

"Emma, what is the rush?" His deep voice asked worriedly.

"Nothing, I just wanted to run into your arms" She gasped for air.

But wait that wasn't Patrick's voice or Patrick's hands... This wasn't Patrick.

Going bright red she looked up to see Johnny staring down at her.

"My arms?" He asked putting her back on the ground. His face broke into a grin and his eyes lit up. "Emma I.. - I"

"I thought you were Paddy" She cut him off. She pulled the hair off her face. "I'm sorry Johnny"

His face fell for a moment and Emma felt awful. That would have been terrible. His whole world lit up then crushed in a matter of minutes.

"No no, don't be," He said his face was stony "Easy mistake at the speed you were going"

"Yes. Yes so very much so" Emma said.

"Will you walk me home all the same?" She asked.

Wanting to make it up to him in some way.

"Of course I can" He smiled. "That will save me from having to strain a fence. Which I wanted to avoid doing"

His expression softens. They matched strides continuing down the dirt track.

Emma's chest burned as she slowly tried to regain her breath. Embarrassed by the incident. How did she not see that it was Johnny? Johnny was much taller than Patrick and wore a red bandana around his neck that was distinguishable from the distance she was at.

"It's good that Patrick is home is it not?" She said softly.

"Yes. Indeed it is yes. His help is much needed on his selection" Johnny agree, sticking a stalk of Queensland Bluegrass into his mouth.

A flock of cockatoos flew above them, screeching loudly and swooping down into a nearby gumtree, making it look like it was covered in white polka dots.

Emma swung her arms in with her stride like a playful child. "Some say he wasn't going to come home," She said in hope that Johnny would take the bait and tell her more of what Rosie had started to mention.

"I haven't heard anyone say that" Johnny said frowning.

"Oh, hadn't you?" She said sounding quite surprised "I had heard a few say it"

Johnny shrugged. "Doesn't matter to me if he did or didn't"

Emma was taken aback and felt inclined to defend Patrick even though Johnny hadn't said anything against him.

"It mattered to me"

"Yeah I know" He said softly touching her shoulder. "I'm happy for you"

Something about his voice made her almost choke and sent excited butterflies to flutter chaos in her stomach.

"Are you really?" She asked. Her voice barely a whisper.

Johnny stopped and took both her hands "Yes Emma, I truly am happy. I don't want to see you unhappy!"

Emma didn't pull her hands away instead she squeezed his back liking how they covered her small hands almost entirely "That means a lot to me, Johnny, it really does"

'

Even she didn't know why it meant a lot to her, but it did.

Johnny smiled and let her hands slip out of his, she was almost disappointed that he did.

They chatted about old times until they eventually reached her barn where he tipped his hat and said their goodbyes. Leaving Emma with the strangest mixed feelings that she couldn't make heads or tails out of. Slumping down on the ground with her back leaned up against the barn wall she stared at her hands for the longest of times. She felt neither sad nor happy, she felt quite strange. What was wrong with her. She didn't get any information from him that she had wanted nor had she left disappointed. Something had happened and she didn't know what.

After some time of just sitting there, Emma stood up went inside and put on her apron, she grabbed a basket and headed for door that went from the kitchen to the veggie patch ignoring her sister who she vaguely heard ask her how the harvest was and that she was sorry she couldn't have helped, even though she had never helped with the harvest. Emma went out to her veggie patch and cleared away the small number of weeds that had popped up; she loaded her basket with beans, cabbage, and carrots. Her mother was standing at the stove stirring a pot of stew. Dressed up in a dress too good for the kitchen, but at least she was in the kitchen for a change. She told her all about the headaches that had vexed her that day and how poorly she had been feeling.

"Ma, maybe you should get some fresh air tomorrow?" She suggested as she peeled the carrots.

Mrs. Mosby nodded "Yes I think that's a fine idea"

The cause of the headaches and pain were from how tight she wore her corset. If she let it out one or two hooks it would help her breath a bit; also she rarely ventured outdoors. Emma wondered why herself had turned out to be nothing like her mother. She had the same hair and figure but that was it, she shared no characteristics that she could think of. Katy, however, had inherited every characteristic, including the way her mother threw her head backward and snorted when laughing.

"Katy was at the store today, looking at the new stock of Summer dresses for the season and she overheard a conversation between Mrs. McCaig and Molly," Mrs. Mosby said excitedly.

"What did she hear" Emma inquired

"Mrs. McCaig's nephew is coming to live with them. His mother died when he was just a young boy growing up, and his father has never looked at him twice since the death" She stopped stirring and spun around to face Emma "He is twenty -two and makes a fortune each year"

"That will be lovely for the McCaig's" Emma smiled.

"Emma don't you understand!' She cried out

"What is there to understand? Their nephew is going to I've with them"

She knew perfectly well what her mother was implying but she refused to let on because she had no intention or wishes to even meet the young man.

"You could marry into a well-off family Emma!"

"I don't care for living comforts or money Ma, you know that"

"You are being absurd"

Emma smiled "No I'm not. Katy would die for such an opportunity, set her up with him instead"

"I'm trying to help you, Emma. Any suitor would sweep Katy up at any time. You not so easy, you aren't as pretty and wouldn't know a dessert spoon from a soup spoon or meat knife from a salad knife" Mrs. Mosby said in an exasperated tone.

Anger burned inside Emma, she didn't want to be like Katy, but she was hurt by the fact that her mother thought that men viewed her as ugly with no etiquette. At the same time, she wanted to be far from alike to those people because she associated those people with the likes of Katy and her Mother.

"At least I'm happy!" She said with a raised voice "Which is more than you can say"

Her mother stared at her with an open mouth.

"How dare yo--"

"Don't speak to me" She snapped.

Emma dropped the peeler and stormed past her mother, she threw off her apron and went out to the barn to groom Harvey and Dolly. She very rarely raised her voice at her mother, in fact, she had not done so since she was fourteen. Her mind was whirling and she couldn't think straight. She found peace being with her horses, they listened to her and didn't care if she had dirt under her fingernails and only ate with one fork.


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## GMA100 (Apr 8, 2016)

More, please!!!


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## riggerismybaby (May 12, 2018)

Chapter Five


Emma didn't put on her usual day dress that morning. Instead she slipped into a plain black dress that had white cuffs on the sleeve and a white collar. She pulled her hair off her face into a low bun and made sure under her fingernails were scrubbed clean.

Today she was working at the Big House, for the arrival of Robert Lester. Mrs. McCaig's nephew. Whenever there was something happening at the house, Emma would help out. It was good pay for her work, which wasn't easy under Mrs. Pomsky's instruction, but she made the most of it and added the wage to her savings. She didn't have anything in particular that she was saving for, but she figured that she didn't need to spend it just because she had it sitting there. Two years worth of savinging were hidden away from the prying eyes and greed of her sister. Maybe she would use it on a wedding dress oneday, or something along that train of thought.

The house was still dark when she left her room and tiptoed into the kitchen, her father had already left for the harvest, he had remembered to take the lunch that she had packed for him the night before, which is how she knew that he had left already.

Emma grabbed a slice of bread and run out the door,knowing she would be late if she didn't get a move on.

Magpies sang out their morning song, breaking the stillness in the air. As they let their song ring out other birds chirped in the trees around her. Every time she tried to count the different bird calls she heard, the more species she noticed were out and about already. There were too many to even try count. Wild rabbits darted across the path in front of her, like little brown bullets they shot out of the grass and across the path, then turning back and crossing back to the otherside again, almost as if to tease Emma into think she could catch one.

Behind her she heard the rhythm of horses hooves and a sulky, so she moved onto the side of the track without turning to see who it was.

"Would you be heading up to the Big House?" Johnny's voice asked

Emma jumped a bit. She hadn't seen him since he walked her home after the first day of the harvest.

"Yes that I would be" She smiled, not being able to makeout his face properly in the darkness.

"I know you have walked to the big house on your own plenty of times, but it's dark and there could be some untrustworthy characters out and about... so can I offer you a lift?" He asked.

She heard a hint of sarcasm in his voice and chuckled.

"As a matter of fact I'm running late, so if it isn't too much trouble that would be very good of you"

Johnny jumped down from the sulky and offered his hand to help her up. Once she was settled he climbed up beside her and released the brake. The horse sprang into a trot causing Emma to be thrust backwards. Johnny's hand shot out to steady her, keeping his other hand on the reins.

"I'm sorry, this one is a fresh one" He said gesturing towards the horse. "He is only three, I've been training him up, but he's a bit of a rusher I'm afraid. I hope your back wasn't hurt"

Emma righted her posture and brushed Johnny's shoulder "It's fine thank you. I'm sure he will settle down soon. You've always had a knack with them."

"Oh I don't know about that, you've always had a good hand when it comes to the horses"

Emma blushed without being able to control it. She was glad it was dark.

"Thanks Johnny"

Are you looking forward to meeting young Mr. Lester?" Johnny asked

"Gaww not really. My mother had hopes of marrying me off"

Johnny gave a hearty laugh

"Naw, not you Emma, those ruddy rich men don't deserve a gem like you!" He said.

"You think so?" She asked touched by the warmness of his voice.

He patted her knee. She could see a big grin on his face. "I know so"

Emma felt proud and wished her mother was here to hear him say it. She wanted to ask him to say it just one more time, but didn't want to be flirtatious, yet a part of her wanted to be wildly flirtatious with him. What was wrong with her. She was very aware of his hand on her knee but didn't make a move for him to remove it and neither did he.

"Where are you off to in the sulky today? Are you not joining the others harvesting?" She asked

"I'm taking the sulky to Molly to borrow for the day, then I will join the others harvesting out by the creek flats not far from your selection"

"Is Molly going to see her sister?"

"Yes she is"

'That's good of you to let her use your sulky" Emma said warmly.

"She has often helped us out with supplies from the store when times are hard. The least we can do is lend her use of our sulky" Johnny nodded.

"She is a fine woman that's for sure!"

Johnny pulled up outside the Big House and jumped out and walking around to Emma's side. He placed his hands around her waist and lifted her down from the sulky like any good gentleman would.

"Thank you very much for the lift, Johnny" Emma smiled. Straightening her skirt and ironing it flat with her hands as best she could.

"The pleasure was all mine. I'm coming back through around Six, if you are on your way home then I will pick you up" He said climbing back into the sulky.

Emma waved him off before heading towards the kitchen. Johnny was a good man. He had a very kind heart that was filled with so much love. He treated women like they were fragile doves, without making them feel like they were incapable of doing things. Not that Emma was a feminist, she was very conservative but she did like a bit of freedom and being acknowledged for the things she was well capable of doing. Johnny managed to perfect that, making her feel like a fine lady and looked after her, but allowed her the acknowledged that she was capable of looking after herself. Like when he picked her up and acknowledged that she had done the walk many times... but at the same time wasn't going to allow her to walk this time. It made her feel good inside.

Emma kicked the ground and let out a huff. Why was she even thinking about Johnny!?! Why wasn't she thinking about Patrick?

Patrick didn't come give her a lift to the Big House that's why.

But that's because Patrick wasn't there to give her a lift... Johnny was the one passing by.

Why was she arguing with her own mind! Emma sighed, she over thought everything. Johnny gave her a lift on his way past, like any gentlemen would. That was the end of it.

The chicken's stood pressed against the wire of their coop growling at her. She stared back at them with a scowl on her face. But how dare Johnny make her feel in such a way that she had to stand here arguing with her own train of thought about it.

Why couldn't Johnny just hate her for being with Patrick and not speak to her, then she could just feel bad instead of this weird mixed feeling that she had. Men... they really were heartbreakers that women could do without...but they couldn't live without them either. Stupid men. The male species were supposed to be simple creatures, but no they were not. In Fact they are quite the opposite, they made women's hair go grey early. It was their fault. How dare they be so well mannered that they made women have the stupid conversations with themselves.

"Emma, inside child before Mrs. Pomsky sees you staring murder at the chickens" Marg called from the veggie patch.

Emma shook her mind clear and smiled at the woman "Yes I will, thank you Marg"

Marg smiled and went back to busying herself in the veggie patch, harvesting everything that they were to use that day.

Emma ran up the path and into the kitchen where Sally was lighting the stoves fires up and other servicewomen were preparing meals. Emma grabbed a clean white apron and picked up a list that was hanging by the door, allocating where each of the volunteers would working. Emma saw that she was on preparing the young mans bedroom and kitchen work. Always kitchen work. Oh well she was paid for it so it didn't matter how much she disliked it. It also kept her away from Mrs. Pomsky.

"Why am I preparing his room?" Emma asked as she tied her apron "What happen to the housemaid?"

"She ran 'way" Sally said without looking up from the stove.

"What do you mean?"

"Some young lad turned up and they run away" Sally huffed as if it explained everything.

Emma picked up a duster and a some rags to take up to his room to clean it with. She left Sally muttering at the stove, she made her way down the cold hallway that adjoined the kitchen to the actual house. Mrs. Pomsky met her at the end of the hallway and led her to where Mr. Lester's room would be.

"Make sure there is not one ounce of dust" Mrs. Pomsky snapped "Mrs. McCaig will be checking it herself.

What a bitter woman she was, Emma thought. In all her years of knowing her, she had not once heard a kind-hearted word pass her lips unless she was speaking to a lady of class. Maybe she didn't have a past that was kind to her. Emma felt bad for judging her.

Emma nodded and entered the room. It was a simple room. Wooden floorboards, whitewashed walls, a four-poster bed with big goosedown pillows and a beautiful embroidered quilt. There were a wardrobe and a chest of drawers against the wall. On top of the chest of drawers a wash basin. The window overlooked the beautiful paddocks rolling out towards the creek. There was a small writing table under the window.The wall opposite the window was where the fireplace sat, the mantlepiece above the fire had a statue of a fine thoroughbred. It was simple room but comfortable and more than what others had. Emma liked that the McCaig's kept their Homestead humble. They could be living with much finer comforts, but Mr. McCaig saw to what was needed and put most into good livestock and broodmares.

Emma emptied the fireplace first and rebuilt the fire so it was ready to light tonight. Picking up a rag she wiped down the mantelpiece and hearth, making sure she left no trace of any dust or ash particles. Once she has wiped down the walls and dusted the writing desk, she stripped back the bed and put fresh sheets on it. Then plumping up the pillows before placing them on the freshly made bed. Gathering the old sheets into her arms she was about to leave the room when the door opened into her face and Mrs. McCaig almost walked into her. Emma jumped backwards swallowing a scream from fright.

Mrs. McCaig entered the room, dressed in a fine ocean green bustle dress with a fine black lace trim, ruffles around the bottom of the skirt and sleeves, giving her an elegant appearance that made Emma almost want to curtsy to her.

"Sorry Ma'am I was just leaving" Emma said nodding her head.

"No, no I came to ask of you a favor," Mrs. McCaig said almost distressed.

Emma placed the bundle of sheets on the floor by the door and pulled out the chair from the writing table and gestured for her to sit down. "A favor Ma'am?"

Mrs. McCaig sat down and smiled up at Emma. She had a slim face with sharp features, but her eyes were soft and kind.

"I'm not sure how to put this. Not without making Robert look like an indecent man" She began.

Emma had no idea what was coming or why Mrs. McCaig wanted a favor from her, let alone a favor that involved Robert.

"Robert is a ladies man, and doesn't have the moral of a well-raised man," She said in a whisper.

Clasping and unclasping her hands.

"Ma'am may I ask what your implying?"

"He will make straight for the servicewomen, you see?. He doesn't have the mind to think or care if he gives one a child. You see what I'm saying?" She asked clearly uncomfortable with the topic.

"Ma'am, may I ask why you've come to me with this matter?"

"Everyone speaks well of you Emma, I know I can trust you" She smiled. "I know you won't spread what I've told you or speak ill of my nephew"

"Certainly Ma'am, this knowledge is safe with me. How can I help you on this matter?"

"Well as you will have heard, Bess, my housemaid has left us in the night with a young man and I would like to offer her position. If you choose to accept my offer, you can help me by keeping Robert away from the young ladies here under my employment. Help protect them, from disgracing their fathers" Mrs. McCaig explained. "I felt that if someone in service to me is aware of Robert, it will help"

Emma gasped "Full time employment?"

"Yes, if you would like to trial it?"

Emma wasn't sure what to say. She would love to work for her as a housemaid, but she would have to give up being able to work alongside her Papa on their selection, and her Harvey.

"Don't answer me yet dear, think on it awhile"

"Thank you Ma'am!" Emma smiled and nodded her head towards the woman.

Mrs. McCaig stood up to leave. She nodded at Emma and walked towards the door holding her hands together in front of her.

"Ma'am?"

"Yes?"

"If I don't accept the offer, you can trust Marg, as much as you can trust me" Emma offered in regard to Robert.

"Thank you Emma, I just may speak with her then. Good day"

Emma was left standing in the room staring at the doorway. A full time job at the Big House! She would be a maid... to a wonderful family of course, but oh she would have to give up so much, and be under Pomsky everyday. That was a lot to swallow. She would speak to her father about it and also ask Patrick what he thought of her in service.

Picking up the bundle of sheets she skipped back down the hall to the wash-house, placing the bedding in a big basket for Marg, who would be on wash duty later that day.

The smells of roast lamb and roast vegetables filled the kitchen. Emma sliced roast lamb and was so soft that her knife glided through it. Emma's mouth watered from the smell of it. Sally stood beside her with a dish of roast vegetables waiting for her to finish slicing the roast so she could tip the juices onto the vegetables.

.

"Can ye get the Yorkshire pudd'n out dearie?" Sally asked

"Yes"

Emma pulled the Yorkshire pudding out of the stove and placed it beside the roast

Leaving it for Sally to slice up she stoked the stove's fire and swept around it before Mrs. Pomsky could tell her to do so. As she swept she noticed cobwebs starting to build up in the space between the bottom of the stove and the floor, she quickly swept them with her broom before stepping outside to collect the eggs.

As she stood in the chicken coop she could hear voices from the other side of it. She carefully placed the eggs into the basket, keeping one eye on the wary Rooster while half listening to the conversation that was being had on the other side of the coop wall.

"Fine land you have here Uncle" A deep voice was saying

"I believe so indeed" Mr. McCaig answered "Now I don't want trouble here Robert. We have a respectful district here and I don't want you causing mishap"

"Come now uncle! What trouble could I cause here!" Robert said mockingly

"Robert this is not something I take lightly or find amusing," Mr. McCaig said seriously

She heard the sound of a boot scuffing the dirt as if one of them was kicking at the ground.

Part of her knew she should leave, but she didn't want to. She wanted to listen to what Robert had to say almost as if it would give her an idea of his character. From the little that she had heard, he sounded like a smart ****** who had little respect for things in life.

"I know Uncle, I know" He sighed. "There is hardly good breeding here from what I've gathered, so what trouble can I cause"

"If you so much as lay a hand of any young women here and I will drive you out" Mr. McCaig said in a tone that sent shivers down Emma's spine.

"And, you keep away from Patrick O'Connor"

"That ******* crawled home did he?" Robert snickered.

"Crawl home! Crawl home! He has no reason to crawl home, his father was ill and that is why he is home"

"He shouldn't have got involved in an affair that had nothing to do with him. Unless he was shagging the women... maybe that's why he did"

"He is a fine man thank you Robert, he was only protecting her and the child. You stay away from him you hear" Mr. McCaig warned.

Emma went cold as ice, she rested the basket on to of the laying boxes and help her stomach trying to keep her gasp quiet so they didn't hear her. Patrick was hiding something from her and it did involve a woman. Her Patrick. Everything was a blur.

"It's ok Uncle, I've come here to live quietly. Why would I ruined my own plans"

Footsteps walking away alerted her that the men have moved off. She picked up her basket and carried it back to the kitchen.

"Your as white as a sheet Emma! Are you feeling ok?" Marg asked taking the basket from her.

Emma sunk into the wooden chair at the end of the table "No, I feel quite ill suddenly"

Nausea flushed through her, her mind was spinning a hundred miles an hour. Rosie knew of this. Why had she not told her?

"Your feeling slightly warm" Marg said placing her hand over her forehead.

"Tis not like you to be aleling" Sally commented peering down at her.

Emma just wanted them to leave her alone, she wanted to be alone.

Mrs. Pomsky came in and felt her head.

"You have a temperature, you may go home" She said without a hint of sympathy in her voice "Can't risk making Robert sick"

"Thankyou Ma'am"

Emma stood up and undid her apron "Please tell Mrs. McCaig I will think about her offer"

"Offer... what offer" Pomsky inquired.

Emma pretended not to hear and quickly left, hurrying down the path and onto the track for home. She took no notice of the robins that were dancing in front of her, or the newborn calf in the paddock beside her. She kept her head down and walked as fast as she could.

Patrick, she would kill him. She would scream at him and slap his face. Never had she slapped a man nor had she wanted to, until now. Now she wanted to slap him. How could he pretend everything was as it was.


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## GMA100 (Apr 8, 2016)

I really love it! But I don’t like the suspense of not knowing what’s gonna happen here LOL


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## riggerismybaby (May 12, 2018)

Sorry, I've had a lot happening. Will try post a chapter each day, but no promises.


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