Carly and Sam...Will and Effie

By Raymond Boyd Dunn

Third book of the trilogy - There's a surprising development in the relationship between Carly and Sam. Will and Effie's wedding plans are delayed.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Raymond Boyd Dunn
• Release date: Nov 17, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465983824

Raymond Boyd Dunn

Raymond Boyd Dunn is a "born and bred" third generation Australian. After his retirement Raymond Boyd became a grey nomad, and, with his wife, spent some time touring this vast country of Australia. He was born in the small Burnett Valley town of Monto, Queensland, and for his entire life has answered to the name of 'Boyd'. Apart from his travels he has lived all of his life in Queensland, and after satisfying his thirst for seeing first hand this wonderful country we live in, settled on the Sunshine Coast to spend his remaining years in the sunshine near the beach.He commenced his working life as a Bank Officer and resigned after thirteen years to become self-employed. At various stages he has owned a Corner Store, a small Supermarket Chain, a Butchery, a Milk Run, a Printery and a Cattle and Grain Farm. He has been involved, in various capacities, in Cricket and Tennis Clubs; Jaycees, Lions and Rotary Clubs and Aero Clubs. He was a Cricketer, played tennis, tried to play golf, and was a keen long distance runner.Upon taking a well-earned retirement he wrote his unpublished autobiography, which was for distribution among his family of six children and numerous grand-children. A visit to Cooktown, where he learnt of the Palmer River Gold Rush, was the incentive to keep writing and produce his first novel 'Palmer Gold' He then settled down to write novels, producing two more books to complete a Trilogy...'An Australian Ranch' and "Carly and Sam...Will and Effie'. There followed numerous short stories, and other novels: 'Lord of the Manor in Australia', and 'The Vintage Years'. He continues to write whilst enjoying life in the sunshine on the beautiful Sunshine Coast in Queensland.

Book preview

Carly and Sam...Will and Effie

Book Three of the Pearson/Rickards Trilogy

By Raymond Boyd Dunn

Copyright 2011 Raymond Dunn

Smashwords Edition

Chapter 1

Many years had passed since the last time eighteen-year-old Carly Pearson punched anyone. That was a long time ago, when she was regarded as a tomboy - before she became a 'lady', as the result of six long years at a boarding school for girls in Brisbane. There was once a time, when they were only children, when she and her younger brother Richie fought in regular dust-ups. They were usually in the form of wrestling and hair-pulling until one or the other 'gave up', or someone came along to separate them. Carly had not been averse to swinging a few punches, which Richie thought was unfair. He felt honour-bound not to strike back because she was a girl. But Carly always punched to the body. This was the first time she had punched anyone in the face - and it hurt! Her hand!

The young man sitting on the veranda floor before her, gently feeling his bloody nose, knew that it hurt. He could vouch for that! He was not worried about the damage it might have done to Carly's hand, which she was nursing so tenderly. It was whether she had broken his nose that concerned him. It was bleeding profusely, the blood running down his hand, and dripping on to the veranda floor as he tilted his head back and vainly tried to staunch the crimson flood.

Haven't you got a hanky? she said. It was more of an accusation, rather than a question. You're bleeding all over the floor.

His handkerchief was in the right side pocket of his trousers, and he had to change hands in ministering to his damaged nose, thereby bloodying his left one as well. He hunched himself to one side to get at the square of linen, and held it to his nose to try and keep the blood from dripping on the floor.

It was early in the afternoon of the Saturday before Christmas, 1894. Christmas Day was the following Tuesday. Robert Williams had ridden over from the neighbouring Perpasco station, where he was employed as a ringer, to give Carly a present for Christmas. He had set out in high spirits and eager anticipation of how he could not help but impress Carly with the magnificence of his love offering, but had finished up instead sitting on the veranda floor of Budgere homestead, holding a bleeding nose. Now this might seem to be harsh treatment for the bearer of such a splendid and valuable gift, but Robert was not your ordinary eager young suitor. Although, in normal circumstances, he was a rather likeable young man, when it concerned Carly he was a pest! He would not, or could not, take 'No!' for an answer. No matter how many times over the past few months Carly rejected him, it made not the slightest difference. She might as well have been talking to a post, as try to make him understand he was not welcome.

When he first came courting, although she liked him well enough, she was not interested in becoming romantically involved with him, and had been kind and diplomatic in refusing his suit. When he persisted with his advances, which over a period of time became more and more unwelcome, she had to become rather rude in rejecting him. She did not like doing it, because it was not in her nature to be unkind, and she knew he was a nice young man, but it was becoming beyond a joke.

On this occasion, he had arrived unexpectedly at the Budgere homestead with a string of pearls for her. At least, he told her they were pearls, but on his meagre wages it was highly unlikely they were the real thing. When she thanked him for the thought behind the gift, but immediately handed the necklace back to him, he had been rather imprudent in the way he refused to accept the rebuff. Instead of retiring gracefully, and 'living to fight another day', he had foolishly insisted that she take it, and attempted to fasten the string around her neck. She pulled away, and tried to slap his face, but he parried the move with his arm. Instead she did the unexpected, and threw a closed right fist directly into his face. Her anger probably lent strength to the blow, and it landed right on his nose with more force than she had ever used before.

Now, it must be said that Robert could not be blamed for wanting to make Carly his girlfriend. His fault was in the manner of his so-called courtship. There was no shortage of prospective suitors for Carly. Here was a prize that most of the young men of the district would dearly love to claim. She was pretty, rather than being a classical beauty; with blue eyes and blonde curly hair. Her figure was slim, but with curves in all the right places. She was a champion tennis player, and could ride like the wind on her sleek black stallion. Although she had learned to restrain herself in recent years, she could also talk the leg off an iron bedstead. As a young child it seemed that she never stopped chattering away, no matter who was present; adults or children. And she was extremely intelligent, always topping her grades at school. This last talent would be more of a handicap than an asset when it came to fostering close friendships with the young men of the district should she have desired to do so. Many of them were poorly educated, and tended to be intimidated by her. Not that she was actively on the lookout for a boyfriend. There was too much for her to do before she would allow herself to become involved in a serious relationship. She had plenty of friends.

What’s going on up here?

There were footsteps on the front stairway, and Sam hove into sight. Sam Taylor was Carly’s best friend. He had been since, as an awe-struck thirteen-year-old, he held her in his arms on the day she was born. From that moment on, he became hers to command. As a child Carly always sought him out for comfort if she was in trouble with her parents. He could always be relied upon to sympathise with her - 'to make her better'. Her father also helped to spoil her but because she was so strong-willed he sometimes had to step in and exert his parental authority. Then she would turn to 'her' Sammy. Sam was only an employee on Budgere. But he had been with the Pearsons since they bought their first herd of cattle in Bathurst, and drove them up along the inland route to Budgere, at that time their newly purchased property in the Jimbour area to the north of Dalby on the Darling Downs. His employers were happy for him to take such an interest in their little girl, because in her childhood years, amongst other things, he was capable of persuading her to change her determined little mind and be obedient; whereas others, including themselves, were not always able to do so.

Sam had seen Robbie the Pest riding up to the front of the homestead from where he was doing some repairs in the cattle yards. Because of the young man's recent annoying, pestering ways, Sam kept an eye on him when Carly came out on to the veranda. He saw what happened, and immediately made his way across to them.

She punched me! Robert blubbered through his bloody hands.

Well, if she did, you probably deserved it! Come on, Robbie, I think you'd better ride out, don't you, before I decide to give you one too!

Sam bent down, gripped Robert by the arm, and helped him to his feet. Then led him to the top of the steps, and held him as they descended. Robert made no attempt to resist. He was still trying to come to terms with the manner in which Carly had dealt with him. Apart from when it came to his infatuation with Carly, Robert was normally a friendly and decent young man of nineteen summers. But when Carly was involved he changed, and seemed to be incapable of any rational thought, except for the pursuit of such a delectable maiden. The treatment he had just received from this apparently genteel young lady was beyond his comprehension.

But she punched me! She's a girl and she punched me! He exclaimed indignantly.

Righto! So she's a girl, and she punched you. If you keep on pestering her, I'm going to tell everyone about it. Then I'll punch you myself!

He helped the Pest to mount up, and slapped the horse on the rump to set it on the road back to Perpasco. When he turned around, Carly was standing at the top of the steps, still holding up her aching right hand. She smiled down at him. He grinned back at her, gave her the thumbs up sign, and walked back to the cattle yards to continue the job which had been interrupted by the appearance of the persistent young would-be suitor.

Carly's parents were away for the day, visiting their friends Billy and Beth Rickards on the neighbouring sheep property, Bethrick, which adjoined their southern boundary. In 1874 they were partners with her parents, before any of them were married, up on the goldfields of the Palmer River in North Queensland during the early days of that rush. Her father Colt, an American, had met her mother Goldie, firstly at the Gympie goldfields, and later up on the Palmer. What her mother, as a young woman, was doing in the rough and tough atmosphere of the gold rushes was another story. Carly was going to write a book about it. But first she had to do a lot of research.

It was two years since she left school, and decided to become an author. In the beginning it had been more of a whim than a serious commitment. It was intended to become a pastime to fill in her spare time on the property. There was no need for her to contribute in the financial area - her parents were wealthy enough to support her. In spite of her high intelligence she had no ambition or enthusiasm to further her studies and pursue one of the few careers available to young women of the day. But as the story of her parents' adventures on the goldfields of the north began to unfold in response to her constant questioning, her ardour towards the project grew to the point where she was now taking her previous casual aspiration seriously. There was now a file in her bedroom which was thickening by the month as she took more and more notes, and extended her research into the subject. After the years of scholarship in the big city of Brisbane; she intended to spend her time enjoying life back in the bush on her parents' cattle property Budgere, just riding, playing tennis and going to dances. Well, she was doing this. But also there had been a trip to Gympie with her father, where she actually saw the country where so much gold was unearthed, and where she filled two thick notebooks with her copious notes. Soon she would start writing. When she suggested she would like to visit the Palmer field also, her father had given her an emphatic refusal. Although twenty years had passed since he was there, and there were a couple of established towns where once there were only rough camps, he considered the area was still too dangerous to take his daughter there.

She had a brother and a sister - twins - a couple of years younger than herself. Richie had the dark hair and brown eyes of his father, and would probably be tall like him in a year or so. Effie favoured her mother in her looks, right down to the freckles on her nose and cheeks, and the luxuriant tresses of auburn hair. Richie had an out-going temperament similar to Carly's, but less pronounced. Effie was the complete opposite to her siblings, being much quieter and reserved. They both had at least another year of attending school to endure before their parents would entertain the idea of them finishing their formal education. Richie was determined he was going to finish his schooldays at the end of the following year, despite his parents' wish that he go on and further his education. He hoped that one day he would be taking over the running of Budgere from his father, and was keen to get back on to the property and work at something he really loved. Effie was the one more inclined to continue on with her studies, but there was not the same pressure from her parents. After all, she was a girl, and apart from school-teaching or nursing, there were few suitable jobs available for young women that required academic credentials. If she was still of the same mind at the end of next year, they were prepared to send her away to a finishing school.

Today, Effie went with her parents to Bethrick, and Richie was where he spent most of his time when home on holidays - out working with the men. Today it was only with John, Bert and Benji, because Sam was working around the homestead, and his dad was visiting. Carly wondered how Robbie the Pest managed to get time off to ride across to Budgere, when by rights he should have still been working. Most properties had only Sunday off work, finishing early on a Saturday afternoon. But it was still only mid afternoon, so the Pest must have been over delivering his present when he should have been otherwise engaged.

It was then she noticed the string of 'pearls' lying over near the wall where it landed after the scuffle. She picked it up and examined it. The little pearly beads looked real enough to her unpractised eye, but she could not imagine how he would have been able to afford them if they were the genuine article. Tomorrow, when the neighbours were expected to visit, she would send them back.

Carly went and sat on one of the squatter's chairs on the front veranda, and picked up the copy of 'For the Term of his Natural Life' which she had been endeavouring to read for ever so long now. Something always seemed to happen to interrupt her whenever she settled down to experience the trials and tribulations of Rufus Dawes. If she was going to be an author herself, she wanted to see how a real writer went about unfolding a story. Today, it was the visit of the Pest which caused her to put the book down when she came out on to the veranda. She sighed with resignation when she discovered that the pages had blown all over, and she had lost her place.

Sam was walking across to roll the tennis court, so she shut the book altogether, and decided to go and talk to him as he worked. When Carly first took up the relatively new sport of tennis while at boarding school, and became keen on the game, her father built a court in front of the homestead. To adapt to conditions in the country, it had an ant-bed surface instead of the usual grassed area as was the case where water was plentiful, and was surrounded by a high wire netting fence. Sam, or one of the men, usually rolled it, and whitewashed the lines on a Saturday afternoon, or after a shower of rain, in preparation for play on Sunday. Because the new sport, which could be played by both men and women, was rapidly gaining in popularity, someone could always be relied upon to turn up for a game, even when nothing had been specifically organised for any particular Sunday. The problem with the ant-bed was that it should be watered before it was rolled, in order to get the best playing surface. So because water was a precious commodity in the country, sometimes it was a trifle dusty and tended to break up. However, the surface was still slightly damp from a shower of rain during the previous evening, and the court, after rolling, should be in tip-top condition for the following day's play.

Even though Carly had never held a tennis racquet in her hand before going away to school, it took only three years for her to become the best player there, and she was the school champion for the next three. There were no women in the district who could hold their own with her, and she could beat many more of the men than could best her. Carly was hampered by the long dresses that women wore. She found the ankle-length skirts cumbersome, and they hindered movement around the court. She believed that if she could wear trousers like the men, she should be able to beat most of them. The large wide-brimmed hats which were fashionable for ladies of the time were quite unsuited to the game of tennis, but most insisted on wearing them despite the hampering effect on their serving. Carly had no qualms about not appearing to be fashionable, and designed special headgear for the game. It enabled her to have quite the strongest serve of any other lady playing the new sport. The men on Budgere were not very good players, and she found it hard to get some decent practice. Richie was easily the best of them, because of the coaching he received at school, but he could seldom beat his sister, and was never very keen to play her when he was home on holidays. Sam was always available, but the only way she could sustain a decent rally when playing against him, was to keep hitting the ball back on to his forehand side. At least it was practice of a sort, and Sam would never refuse her request for a hit.

There was a new bank-johnny who had arrived in Dalby a few weeks previously, and was supposed to be a very good player. He had been invited out to Budgere for the weekend. The problem was that he had to work on a Saturday morning, so would have to ride out in the afternoon, and then ride back to Dalby after play on Sunday, which would make it a very tiring weekend for him. But upon hearing of the pretty young lady on Budgere who was such a good player, and when the invitation was extended to the new young man-about-town by her father, he was only too pleased to accept.

Carly passed through the gate of the court enclosure, and stood at the high stand which the umpire used when someone could be persuaded to take on that thankless task. Sam had thrown the rolled-up net onto the tiny platform while he rolled the court, and she entwined her fingers through the mesh as she watched him pull the roller back and forth. He glanced over at her as he reversed the handle of the roller, and began to pull in the other direction.

That must've been some punch you gave him, he declared, with an amused grin, as he drew level. What did he do to deserve that?

Didn't you see him try to put the necklace around my neck? The cheek of him! She started to walk along beside him as he passed her. He made me so angry! I just let fly without thinking. Look what he did to my hand! She held it up for his inspection. Sam could see nothing wrong with it.

He did that to your hand? he chuckled. What did he do? Hit it with his nose? That'll teach him to strike a lady on the fist!

They turned when they came to the end of the court, and he reversed the roller handle again.

Well, anyway, she laughed. I'll be surprised if he comes back for more after that. He'd have a hide like an elephant if he does. Then she became serious. I'm ashamed I lost my temper, but I'm not sorry. I just hope that sees the end of it.

I don't think he'll come back for more, said Sam. You know, he's really not a bad bloke normally - away from you! You seem to make him go hay-wire. But don't worry, if he does come back for another dose, I'll take care of him.

My hero!

And don't you forget it, laughed Sam. Is that new bank-johnny from Dalby coming out this weekend?

I'm not sure. Dad asked him out when he was in the Bank last week. He said he would try to make it. I hope he does. I want to see how good he is -. How good he is with a racquet, she hastened to add, when she saw Sam's mischievous expression, as he opened his mouth to make a comment.

I knew that's what you meant, he replied, trying unsuccessfully to look serious.

No, you didn't! You didn't at all! I know you, Sam Taylor!

She continued to talk and banter with him as he finished rolling the court, then helped him to move the long straight-edge about as he used a brush to whitewash the lines on the now smooth ant-bed surface. They put up the net, and all was ready for when anyone wanted to have a game.

As they moved back towards the homestead, they first saw, and then heard, the spring cart bearing her parents and sister returning from Bethrick. There were two figures on horseback accompanying them. As they came closer, Carly recognised one of the horsemen as Will Rickards, the son of their neighbours, and could see the other was a young man whom she had never seen before. The handle of a tennis racquet was protruding from one of his saddle bags. This would have to be the Bank tennis player her father invited out for the weekend.

She was not surprised to see Will with them. Will was only a few months older than the twins, and they had all known each other, and been close friends, since they were babies. She was beginning to suspect that in recent times, Will was coming to regard Effie in a different light. He would be seventeen in the middle of next month, and she had noticed that though he was not tall like her brother Richie, his body had matured a great deal over the last couple of years. His excuse for the visit would probably be that he came to spend some time with Richie, but Carly had her own ideas about that! For one thing, they both attended the same boys' boarding school in Brisbane, and being in the same form, would see each other all day, every day.

She turned her attention to the stranger as the horses and spring cart came to a halt at the front gate of the homestead. He must have left straight from work without going home to change because, though he was not wearing a coat, he was dressed in good clothes. His waistcoat was open as a concession to the heat of the afternoon, but he still wore his stiff white collar, with a tie neatly knotted in spite of the weather. She could see a perspiration stain on the collar, and also on his shirt under the arms. But in this climate all the men and most of the women suffered from similar discomfort. He wore the latest in felt hats. A moustache, trimmed and waxed, adorned his upper lip - otherwise he was clean-shaven. His age, she estimated, would be about twenty-one or -two. He was rather good-looking in a dandyish sort of way.

When the new man dismounted, her father introduced him to Carly and Sam as Jason Armstrong. He removed his hat to reveal straight brown hair, slightly rumpled and damp from wearing the felt hat. His smile was pleasant enough, curving up slightly at one corner. It passed through Carly's mind that the slight crookedness of it would be charming if it was natural, but she had the distinct impression it was an affectation. Most likely it was cultivated to enhance his appeal to the young ladies he must undoubtedly meet, both in his job as teller at the Q.N.Bank, and socially because of his standing as a respected member of the Bank staff. She was prepared to give him the benefit of the doubt on that score, but she was unimpressed when he practically ignored Sam, giving him the benefit of only the briefest of handshakes. In her opinion, he must have done his homework on who were the important people at Budgere. He probably thought that Sam, being only an employee, and to boot a customer of the Bank of New South Wales, the opposition, with probably only a pound or two in his account, did not amount to much from a banking point of view. While Colt was making the introductions, Will helped Goldie and Effie down from the buggy.

Sam said that he would un-harness and un-saddle the horses, so Will retrieved his swag, and Jason his saddle bags, before Sam led the animals and cart across towards the barn and the adjacent horse paddock. The others went inside in response to Minnie's call that afternoon tea was ready for them. Minnie was the wife of John Philips, Colt's foreman. They lived in the first of the two cottages lined up about forty paces from one side of the homestead. Lanky Bert Denton, one of the workmen, and his tiny wife Janet, who had been the children's governess and taught them for so many years, lived in the other one. Minnie Philips helped Goldie with the housework and cooking, having taken over the homestead kitchen duties after the retirement of Pop, the original cook, who had been with the Pearsons