Distant Mountains, page 11
“Does he beat you?” he blurted; then wished he’d kept quiet when her face paled even more, making her look ethereal in the dim light where dust motes danced in the shafts of sun.
“He says I am lazy and stupid.” A shudder ran through her slight frame. “He beats me if I don’t do things as he expects them to be done, then is never satisfied when I try to please him.”
“Why don’t you run away?” Without thinking, Rem took one of her hands, clasping it firmly when she made to jerk it away.
“Where would I go? I am lost out here. I would die if I walked into the bush.” With a movement that was so wistful Rem could have cried for her, she looked over a shoulder, her eyes dreamy. “Sometimes I think I will do that. Just walk away until I can walk no more.”
“Don’t talk like that,” he scolded as thoughts of Aggie returned in force. Had she done that? Walked into the river and not looked back? He shuddered.
“You are cold?” With one more jerk, she released herself from his clasp.
“No, but I do have to go outside, and I don’t know how I’ll manage it.” Struggling onto his side he started to push himself onto his hands, sweat trickling down his face as the pain intensified.
“I will help.” Hastily she got to her feet and with her thin arms about his waist helped him to rise. Rem hobbled outside, leaning on her heavily until he thought she might tumble over. Like a pair of drunks after a binge, they reached a group of bushes. “I will wait here,” she said, blushing as she turned her head to watch a few chickens scrabbling about.
After Rem saw to his needs, she helped him back to the shed. Then she went off and fetched him a bowl of warm water and a piece of rag. He felt better after a wash.
But she looked very worried, a frown marring her pale brow as she watched his struggles. “You have not the strength to walk today. It will be better if you stay one more day.” Wringing her hands, she added, “But you must leave tomorrow.”
“Thank you. I doubt I could make it past the clearing on my own.” Rem felt exhausted after the small task of washing and drying himself. In truth, he couldn’t see himself walking unaided for days. “My ankle’s throbbing like blazes. Do you have something for the pain? Perhaps some of your husband’s spirits.” Hopefully he looked up at her; she stood near him, the bowl she had emptied tucked under an arm.
“I dare not touch his spirits. He measures how much is in the jug each morning.” She seemed to ponder something. “I will fetch you some of the thing he chews. It makes him sleepy, and brings a smile to his lips.”
“Chews?” Rem frowned as he tried to think what she meant. Then it hit him. “Ah, you mean opium?”
She shrugged. “I do not know its name. But I think it comes from the juice of the flower called a poppy.”
Rem nodded. “Yes, that’d be opium. Where the hell did he get that from?”
“I guess he bought it from one of the travelers along the road. He meets up with them and they give him this potion along with supplies, and he pays in gold.”
When she was gone Rem dozed again.
“I found this,” he heard her say, and Rem blinked as he stared up at his angel of mercy.
She held a small bottle aloft. “What is it?”
“I cannot read what is written on it, but I think he took some once when he came home with a terrible cut on his arm. He said it eased the pain. He hid it, but I found it. I thought it might be better for you than the poppy juice.” She knelt at his side.
Rem took the bottle and read the label. “It’s laudanum. Same thing, I think, as poppy juice. I have no idea how much I should take.” To err on the side of caution Rem took a sip. As he handed the bottle back to her she went to rise. Rem stopped her with a hand.
“Don’t go. Stay and talk with me.”
“I have many chores to do before he returns.” Despite her words she seemed reluctant to leave.
“There can’t be that much up here to keep you occupied for a whole day. What time does he usually come back?”
“At sundown mostly. But sometimes he returns during the afternoon. When he wishes to...” Her cheeks colored as she fiddled with the hem of her pathetically thin torn and creased garment.
“When he wishes to bed you?” Rem touched her fidgeting hand, and she stilled, nodding.
“Ah, Lulu.” Rem had no idea what to say. Why should anyone endure such a life? Stuck up here in the back of beyond with no company but a brutal husband who treated her no better than a whore. Worse than a whore, for she had to live with his insults and beatings.
“Think about coming with me when I go. I’ll see you get a position in a fine house or somewhere. Anywhere would be a step above the life you have now. I can’t promise anything, I’m still a convict and will have to accept my punishment when I get to town. But I know one thing, you’ll be better off away from this.” He jerked his head, giving their surroundings a scornful glance.
“I do not think so.” Her acceptance made him see red. With a jolt he realized the throbbing in his ankle had eased, and he felt very drowsy.
“Think about it,” he murmured as he drifted off to sleep.
Rem floated in and out of sleep, his rest interspersed with dreams of ugly faces, shots being fired, falling through space, and being rescued by a maiden with hollow eyes with the hands of an angel.
Lulu brought him another meal at midday, more tea, and more of the laudanum. It certainly lulled the pain and made him drowsy. She helped him outside again then left him to sleep some more. As the sun set and the shack grew dim he heard the shout of her husband. Her sweet lilting voice drifted across to him as she offered words of welcome.
All she got in return was insults. Rem huddled beneath the tattered blanket when the door opened. But it was Lulu who entered. She took the harness from the mule, roped him into his stall, and then offered the animal a bucket with a small amount of grain in it. The mule began to munch happily.
“I will be back later,” Lulu whispered, going out again.
No doubt when her husband was drunk.
He was right. About an hour later, she crept in, kneeling beside him. “I brought you the…what you called opium, this time,” she said. “I thought it best—in case he needed the other potion and noticed it was less than before.”
“That was a good idea.”
“What is your name?” she asked shyly.
“It’s Jeremy O’Shea. But most call me Rem or Remy,” he said.
“What shall I call you?”
“Rem, of course. You’re my friend aren’t you? All my friends call me that.”
“I would very much like to be your friend.”
“You’re more than that, Lulu, you’re my savior. You likely saved my life.”
For the first time since he’d met her she smiled. It transformed her face, lit up her eyes, made her appear almost childlike. But Rem had a feeling she had never been a child.
“Rem. It is an odd name, but I like it.”
While they talked, Rem chewed on the opium powder. He began to feel light-headed and extraordinarily carefree. With a sigh, he leant back, taking her hand. She allowed him to cradle it in his.
“Odd name for an odd fellow,” he muttered, running his thumb over her tiny wrist. “You’re as frail as a little bird.” Not plump like Aggie, or strong and well-formed like his Sara. Sighing his love’s name, he tried to force his eyes open, but they drifted shut.
Chapter Eleven
A week later Rem was stronger, but suffered from cabin fever after his confinement to this dingy space. Lulu made a concoction from green ants to substitute the opium. She was justifiably terrified her husband would notice the laudanum and powder had diminished. She also made a poultice from ground roots and leaves she applied regularly to the break in his bone. Rem had no idea what the plant was, and neither did she, but somewhere in her past she had seen a woman use it to knit bones. Most of the bruising had disappeared.
Lulu’s tormentor—funny, but Rem hadn’t found out if he had a name—was apparently onto a strike of gold. He was away most of the daylight hours, but Rem ventured outside rarely. Lulu was terrified the brute would return early and find Rem there. One day he came back before sundown and yelled for her. Rem lay shivering while he imagined what the man did to the fragile woman Rem had come to really like. An hour later, she crept into the stable, her demeanor shouting humiliation. Rem didn’t query her, not wanting to add to her shame.
The next morning, her husband left later than usual, and Lulu came in with Rem’s food and a mug of tea. When she helped him outside, he saw that half her face was bruised purple.
“What did that monster do to you?” he demanded, balancing on the branch he now used to make his slow progress to a place of privacy.
For a minute, she kept her head bowed, her hair hiding her face. Rem reached out to lift her chin. “Did he bash you? The coward.”
“It is nothing.” She shrugged.
Rem cursed violently. “The man’s no better than a wild animal. What did you do to deserve such treatment?”
“I did not cook his meat to his liking. Do not worry for me. I am used to this.” She pressed a palm to the cheek, now beginning to swell.
“Nobody gets used to being treated like he treats you, Lulu! Come away with me. I’m getting stronger by the day. As soon as I can put a little weight on this bloody foot, I’ll be able to start out. But I can’t leave you here.”
With a wistful little smile, she shook her head. “I cannot go with you. He would find me and kill me.”
“How would he find you? Good God, he’s drunk most of the time. If he’s onto a strike of gold he won’t think about deserting his claim, I can tell you that.”
Rem went behind a tree to relieve himself and was adjusting his breeches when she whispered urgently, “Stay hidden!”
Rem ducked back behind the trunk of the gum tree. Just in time, for he heard a rough shout. Her husband had returned.
“What yer doing over there?” he yelled. Rem heard Lulu scuffling through the leaves as she went over to him. “You lazy little doxie!” A sharp crack followed. Rem froze. The bastard had walloped her again. With an indrawn breath, he sought to control the urge to go to her aid. It wouldn’t help her one bit if he was to show himself.
“Get inside and get yer clothes off!”
Rem clenched his jaw so tightly it ached. Lulu began to whimper, and Rem heard the sound of ripping cloth. Sweet heavens, the brute was tearing her clothes. Easing over so he could see beyond the tree trunk, he saw the bastard toss her to the ground, while struggling with his trouser buttons.
“Take your hands off her,” Rem shouted. It seemed that every bird for miles went silent. The man stopped unfastening his breeches, and his face wore such a look of shock Rem would have laughed had it all not been so tragic.
“Who the bloody hell are you? And what’s it to you what I do with her? She’s mine to do with as I please.” He glanced about, as if expecting other company, demanding, “Where the fucking hell did you spring from?”
By now, Rem was beginning to regret his hasty move, but he’d acted completely by instinct. No woman deserved to be treated like a common doxie. “I sprang from hell. I’m the devil’s disciple and you’re a dead man if you don’t leave that woman alone.”
“What?” He looked genuinely puzzled. “This woman happens to be my property, and what’s more it has nothing to do with you or anybody how I treat her. Now bugger off. I don’t know where you came from, but you can carry on with your journey and get off my land.”
“This ain’t your land. This land belongs to no one, except maybe the government.”
“Piss off!”
Lulu had taken the opportunity to crawl out of his reach. With a growled curse, the man made a grab for her, wrenching one arm up and twisting it. She screamed.
“If you don’t release that woman now, you’re dead.” Rem hobbled toward him and his eyes widened at Rem’s bound leg.
“You ain’t no traveler. You can’t even walk.” He pulled a knife from his belt, wielding it.
“How observant of you.”
Lulu began to cry.
“Keep quiet,” he yelled, kicking her in the side. “Shut your trap.”
“I told you to leave her alone,” Rem said through bared teeth.
The brute’s guttural laugh echoed through the trees. “What are you gonna do about it if I don’t?” The knife slashed through the air, and Rem knew a moment’s sheer panic. If he threw the knife and his aim was good, Rem would be the dead one.
“I have a pistol,” Rem said levelly. “Before the knife you hold can be on its way toward me you’ll be shot in the chest.”
While Rem pondered on what would happen if the man realized he was bluffing, Lulu threw herself at his legs. He ground out a string of oaths as he toppled forward. Grabbing a stout branch from the ground, she bashed him over the head with it. His language was vitriolic as he twisted away, putting a hand to his temple. He went purple with rage when he saw blood on his fingers.
“You whore! I’ll kill you.” He lunged at her with the knife.
Rem moved as swiftly as he could, his pain forgotten as he brought the branch he used as a crutch up and bashed her attacker over the head. The man was stronger than he looked, for the blow only temporarily winded him. He dropped to his knees and fished around in the leaves for the knife.
Rem knew he would use the knife without compunction. This was the only chance he had. With a shout, he raised the branch once more, bringing it down on the man’s back, and then his head with as much might as he could muster. Lulu’s tormentor fell forward, grunted, and then lay still.
Lulu crawled on her hands and knees until she could touch the inert body. With a finger, she timidly felt for a pulse in his neck.
“Is he dead?” Rem shuddered violently with reaction now it was all over. It had happened so quickly. Although he’d threatened the man with death he really hadn’t intended to do away with him.
“I think so. I cannot feel his heartbeat.” She sank back onto her bent legs. Rem saw a matching shudder run through her.
“I couldn’t have killed him with a blow from this.” He waved the branch. “He must be unconscious.” Rem awkwardly eased himself down beside her. Taking a shuddering breath, he pushed the man over onto his back. There was no doubt his life was over; the knife protruded from his chest, right where the heart sits. His filthy shirt grew redder by the second as his life’s blood spurted from the wound.
“Christ! The blade went into him.” With a shudder of revulsion, Rem scraped his hands down the front of his shirt, as if that would wipe him clean of guilt. “Now what’ll we do?” He twisted his head to gaze at her. Shock and something else was etched on her features. Was it relief?
She shook her head. “I do not know. You should not feel guilty.” It was clear she read his face well and saw he blamed himself. “He died by his own hand. You were trying to protect me. I am glad he is dead.” Her vehemence brought on more shudders. Truth be known, Rem was glad too. The brute didn’t deserve to live after the way he’d treated her.
“We’ll have to move him, but how?” Rem didn’t have the strength to lift himself, let alone a lifeless body.
She nibbled on her lip as she pressed her fingers to her temple. “I know,” she said at last, getting up and running to the shack. She returned with a quilt, obviously stripped from the bed. “If we can push him onto this, then perhaps we can drag him along.” She flapped it out, spreading it on the ground beside the body. “Help me roll him onto it.”
Rem dragged in a ragged breath and got down as best he could again. His ankle throbbed like crazy. But they had to get rid of the corpse as soon as possible. There’d been no visitors since Rem’s arrival, but if someone happened to pass through now he would be for the gibbet for certain. And Lord alone knew what would happen to Lulu then. No one would believe it was accidental death.
Sweat dripped from Rem as they pushed and pulled the lifeless form until they had him on the quilt. Her strength amazed him. When they had the job finished, she ran off again, coming back with a length of rope.
“We must tie it up,” she said. Rem nodded. It was another tedious task to get the rope beneath the body, then to secure it. Rem’s strength was running out, as the body seemed to grow heavier.
“Now what?” he asked, panting and dizzy with the exertion. She brought him the laudanum, and as he waited for it to take effect and ease his pain, she sat thoughtfully.
“I think we should put him down his mine,” she decided. “No one knows where it is. He was very secretive and greedy.”
“So how do you know where to find it?”
She grimaced. “I followed him one day. He beat me, threatening me with death if I told anyone where it was. Yes, that would be a good resting place for him.”
“I agree. But how do we get him there? Is it far?” Rem licked his lips. The pain had ebbed, but he still felt faint.
“We will use the mule.” She jumped up and went to fetch the animal that had been grazing nearby. They secured the rope about the body’s ankles then tied one end of it to each of the stirrups. “Can you mount the animal?” she asked.
It proved a struggle, but Rem managed it. The mule kicked up a fuss and it took a while to pacify it. But once they started to move, with Lulu urging it on from the front and Rem kicking its ribs, they made a slow progress up the track her husband had made on his daily journey to the mine. It took a good half hour to reach their destination.
When both Lulu and the mule stopped, Rem asked, “Where’s the mine?”
She looked about furtively. “It is here somewhere. He must have concealed the entrance. I will find it while you undo the ropes. It is not far away.” She carefully paced away while Rem slid off the mule and undid the bindings. Now the body was covered, he didn’t feel so bad. His trembling had died down, but he probably owed the feeling of tranquility to the potion he’d taken for the pain.
