TWENTY-SIX
Twenty-six
‘This is a disaster!’ Hannah declared as Lottie walked into her mother’s kitchen. She glanced around and noticed dishes in the sink and empty wineglasses on the bench.
When did she start drinking wine again? ‘What is, Mum?’ Lottie asked as she watched Hannah cross to the sink and begin to run some water.
‘Everything,’ she snapped. ‘What have I always said about men and relationships?’
‘That you shouldn’t mix the two,’ Lottie said automatically, taking a seat at the bench.
‘Exactly. And I have always stuck by that rule.’
‘Until you met Gordon,’ Lottie said, suddenly working out the issue and feeling her heart begin to sink.
Her mother glanced up from the sink and sent her daughter a serious look. ‘It’s completely ridiculous,’ she said, shaking her head irritably.
‘What is?’
‘I only just met the man,’ Hannah said.
‘And?’ Lottie prodded.
‘And,’ her mother let out a loud huff of annoyance, ‘everything I’ve ever told myself somehow just … doesn’t make sense anymore,’ she finished, sounding less annoyed and more helpless. ‘I just don’t understand what’s happening! Everything’s been fine and now suddenly I can’t seem to function when he’s not here … it’s like a piece of me is missing. I’ve become some codependent, ridiculous … idiot!’
‘Oh, Mum,’ Lottie breathed, a mixture of surprise and happiness colouring her tone.
‘It’s completely insane!’ her mother snapped.
‘Where is he now?’ Lottie asked, nervously glancing at the doorway, half expecting to see him appear at any moment, and really hoping it wasn’t out of the shower.
‘I sent him away.’
‘You what ?’
‘I’m not doing it! I refuse to fall in love.’
‘Mum!’
‘What?’
‘You ended it because you felt like you were falling for him ?’ Lottie demanded.
‘I mean, clearly I wasn’t,’ she scoffed, ‘I don’t do love.’ She said it like she was reminding herself rather than Lottie.
‘You mean you haven’t allowed yourself to do love before,’ Lottie pointed out.
‘Well, of course not. Why would I want someone I love to up and die on me?’
‘Mum.’ Lottie sighed wearily.
‘Don’t Mum me,’ her mother said, narrowing her eyes. ‘If anything, you should now believe in the curse. You found out where the ring came from. It’s obvious.’
‘The ring is not cursed,’ Lottie said tightly.
‘Oh really? A stolen opal? You think that doesn’t come with a whole heap of bad juju? We’re not talking any old gemstone here, we’re talking about an opal. ’
‘So let me get this straight,’ Lottie said, rubbing her temples lightly. ‘You met an amazing man who you instantly felt a connection with—the first connection you’ve ever felt with someone—and you sent him away? Because you’re still convinced a lump of rock has some kind of power to curse true love?’
‘I refuse to be the reason someone dies,’ she said stubbornly.
‘Everyone dies at some point, Mum,’ Lottie snapped. ‘It’s not you. Or a ring. Or a stupid curse. It’s just life . And now you’ve sent away a man who could have been your one chance at finding love. And now you won’t find out if it was love or not. All you’ll have to keep you company is the stupid fear of a curse that doesn’t exist.’
‘It’s a chance I’m not willing to take,’ her mother said adamantly.
Lottie got up from the bench, unwilling to listen to any more of this nonsense. ‘Then I genuinely feel sad for you,’ she said. And she meant it.
‘How was your mum?’ Damian asked as she walked inside and kicked off her boots. ‘Did you get to the bottom of the mystery?’
‘Yep. She and Gordon have been together practically every day since the festival … and then she kicked him out and ended it.’
He frowned. ‘Why? What happened?’
‘My mother happened!’ Lottie burst out. ‘She suddenly remembered she’s cursed.’
‘Because of the ring?’ Damian asked, lifting his eyebrows.
‘Yep. Apparently, she and Gordon hit it off, but she got cold feet and ended it.’
‘That’s …’ He let the sentence trail off awkwardly.
‘Crazy?’ she supplied helpfully. ‘Insane? Yes, it is. That’s my mother.’
‘I guess I should give Gordon a call later.’
‘Just reassure him it was nothing personal. My mother just didn’t want to be responsible for him carking it.’
‘Uh … maybe I’ll just play dumb and let him tell me what happened.’
‘So, what did you get up to while I was gone?’ she asked, changing the subject. She was still too angry to talk about it anymore.
‘I’ve located the original deeds from the O’Ryan homestead, where Kate and her husband lived,’ Damian said, showing her a page with a map printed out on it.
‘Kate’s house? Why?’
‘I’m glad you asked,’ he said, flashing her a grin. ‘Because this is where the hut was,’ he said, pointing to a small square marked with a number before dragging his finger along the page to another part of the map. ‘And this,’ he said, glancing up at her with an undeniable spark of excitement in his eye, ‘is where the stagecoach was attacked.’
Lottie looked back down at the map. ‘You think that Kate was involved in the robbery?’
‘Not necessarily, though, who knows? The whole family had prior run-ins with the law over the years leading up to Jack forming the gang. My point is that Jack would have been able to make it to his sister’s place within hours of the robbery. If Catherine was on the coach and injured during the shootout, then my guess is she’d been taken from the scene.’
‘To Kate’s?’
He shrugged one shoulder slightly. ‘It’s just a theory, but it would explain why Catherine hadn’t been found if she had been on the coach.’
‘But … why would they take her?’
‘Maybe they panicked and took her with them before they thought it through. Or maybe Jack had an attack of conscience and couldn’t bring himself to leave a helpless—potentially wounded—woman out in the bush, alone.’
‘A woman who might have had a baby with her … or was even in labour,’ Lottie added gravely. ‘We haven’t ruled out the possibility she might still have been pregnant.’
Damian nodded thoughtfully.
‘Okay, so just say he does play the noble hero and takes her to his sister … would they have killed her?’ Lottie asked.
Damian shook his head. ‘It doesn’t follow his usual modus operandi. Let’s go with the woman in labour theory,’ he continued, beginning to pace. ‘We suspect she’d have been close to her due date, and after everything she’d been through—a rough carriage ride, witnessing her husband’s murder, men being killed around her, possibly being injured as well—it wouldn’t be unreasonable to think she could have gone into labour. Kate was an experienced mother, and she’d likely have assisted other women in childbirth. It would make sense for Jack to take Catherine to Kate for help. But that would be a horrendous trek for a woman in her condition to make, added to the fact she may have also been caught in the crossfire and wounded.’ He shook his head as he thought about it. ‘Catherine’s chances of surviving childbirth would already be quite slim, even without other factors playing a part. I suspect she and the child died in childbirth.’
Lottie felt her heart drop. She’d grown attached to Catherine over the last few weeks—uncovering her story from letters and listening to Damian talk about her. To think of her suffering in that way was too horrible to imagine.
‘It would also explain why she was never found. Had she survived, she would have eventually turned up somewhere.’
‘But if she died … what would they have done with her?’
‘My guess is they would have buried her in an unmarked grave somewhere in the bush,’ he said simply. ‘Which is why I need to go up there.’
‘You’re going to look for a grave?’ Lottie asked uncertainly. ‘After all this time, you still think you’ll be able to find something?’
‘I won’t hold my breath, but I still need to go. If for nothing else, then to get some photos for the book. But it won’t hurt to look around.’
‘Okay. When do we leave?’
He shot her a look of surprise, followed by a grin. ‘It’s pretty rugged up there. You sure you want to come?’
‘I’ve come this far,’ she said with a small smile that quickly faded. ‘I’d like to go up there with you. For Catherine.’