Only Killers and Thieves(87)

“Big trouble this one,” Rabbit repeated, shaking his head. He smiled at Tommy and the smile was very familiar, like it meant something, like the two of them were friends. It wasn’t impossible. In another life, maybe. Another place. Another world.

“Help me get her to the stables,” Tommy said, then to Mallee: “You stay here.”

To quieten her screaming, Tommy wrestled the feed bag back onto her head, then he and Rabbit each took an arm and dragged the writhing girl past the sheds to the stable barn. One of the doors was already open. They hauled her inside. The barn was empty, the air shaded and cool; Kala stopped fighting once they were in. The horses nickered in their stalls and watched the trio curiously—the smell of the feed bag, maybe. Tommy made for Beau’s stall. His gray snout poked over the gate, sniffing at the air, then he lifted his whole head out. Tommy spoke to him. A hushed greeting and that was all. But Rabbit was reading his intentions and he pulled Kala to a halt, and he and Tommy stood facing each other in the aisle.

“Tie her in stable, Marmy says.”

“No, she’s mine now.”

“Marmy says—”

“He’s not even here.”

Rabbit’s eyes flared. He looked terrified. “Marmy everywhere.”

“Not where I’m taking her.”

Rabbit’s head inclined slightly. “Taking her?”

And Tommy was thinking: tell him Glendale, as their housemaid; or into the woods to fuck her; or somewhere she can be sold.

“The camps outside Bewley. I aim to turn her loose.”

Rabbit stared at him a long time. Tommy fidgeted in his gaze. An urge to flee or lunge at him, neither of which felt sound. He’d lose Kala if he ran, and despite Rabbit’s being unarmed, Tommy still had only one hand with which to fight. And then there was Mallee, waiting with the horses not a hundred yards away, out of sight behind the sheds. One shout from Rabbit and he would come.

Rabbit blinked and nodded, drew his lips tight. There was a sadness in him, a pain at the choice Tommy was forcing him to make. Whatever was between them was over now. One way or another, this was the end.

Rabbit reached for the bag on Kala’s head, took it off slowly, and spoke to her. She looked at Tommy. Her eyes were wild and very wide. Tommy waited, unsure what to do. Rabbit offered him the feed bag.

“For she start screaming,” he said.

Tommy took the bag. Rabbit turned to leave. Tommy called for him to wait but he didn’t and it was to his back that Tommy said, “Thank you.” Rabbit raised a hand. He didn’t pause or turn. He walked out into the sunshine and over toward the sheds, and there was no telling what he might do next. Might have been genuine, might have been a ruse. Tommy hoped he knew. Hoped he’d read him right.

“Quickly,” he said, grabbing Kala’s wrist and dragging her into Beau’s stall. She didn’t fight him this time, stood by while he got the saddle on, difficult with his hand but he managed. She mounted up without him asking. Tommy found a folded blanket draped over the stable partition and offered it to her, thought she might cover herself with it, but she only held it to her chest. He didn’t take the feed bag. Beau trampled over it as Tommy led him from the stall. They walked slowly down the center aisle, and at the door Tommy halted and stepped into the sunshine and scanned the clearing and the sheds. No one was out there. A man’s voice was shouting: could have been Rabbit, the kitchens, the distant workers’ camp. Tommy hesitated. Glanced up at Kala, who watched him dead-eyed. Nothing in how she looked at him. No warmth, no recognition, no thanks. Tommy led Beau by the bridle out of the stable door and doubled back around the side of the barn. He paused at the corner. In the distance two horses were crossing the yard behind the house, unhurried and casual: Rabbit and Mallee, calmly riding away.

Tommy mounted up clumsily, a struggle to get in front of her, to swing over his leg. She held on to him and the touch stirred a flurry in his gut. She had never done that before. One hand on his waist, a fistful of shirt fabric, the other holding the blanket, he assumed. They moved on. Down the side of the stables and into the scraggy bush that bordered the compound’s edge. Some tree cover, plenty of loose scrub: his intention was to conceal their tracks until they were clear of the homestead, then pick up a trail heading southeast. He was assuming they’d be followed, but would they? Would anyone even notice they were gone? Tommy could have been taking Kala to Glendale for all they knew—in their eyes she was his property now. Billy certainly didn’t want her and Sullivan wouldn’t care: to the squatter’s way of thinking, couldn’t Tommy do with his property whatever he damn well pleased?

*

They picked their way along the tree line, then struck out over open ground, until eventually they came across a track. Tommy paused and traced its course through boulders and sparse bush, took a bearing off the sun, must have been a few hours after midday now. The track seemed a likely route. Roughly southeast in its heading, and where else but Bewley could it lead? He glanced back at Kala and caught her eyeing the country to the west. All through the ride he’d felt her twisting in the saddle, checking behind them, checking all around.

“It’s alright,” he told her, setting out on the track. “It’s alright.”

He had brought nothing with him. No weapon, no water, not even a hat. He wondered how close they were to Glendale, whether he should stop for provisions, use the well. No. It would cost them at least a couple of hours, maybe longer if he’d read their position wrong. They might have to camp there, which was not a good idea. Someone might come looking, Kala might be scared. Still, he imagined them bedding down in the house, maybe next to the open fire. He could show her the grave markers and perhaps her eyes would soften and she might see him differently then. Like he was forgiven, like she understood; like everything between them was changed.