Mystic Mountains

and looked into the fire, letting the flames mesmerize her. "I have my children. That's all a woman can really ask of life, seems to me. At least children love unconditionally."
    "Poor Bella," he whispered, a wealth of sadness in his tone.
    Isabella shot to her feet. "Don't you poor Bella me." For some reason she felt like bursting into tears. "Never feel sorry for me, do you hear?" With a muffled sob she turned and ran.
    He called her name softl y, but she ignored him. Why did he suddenly have to start going soft on her? She needed his sympathy less than she needed anything else from him, including his sudden attention.
    Tired as she was after the long day 's journey she didn't sleep for hours, but lay staring up at the roof of the tent long after the laughter of the men died, and apart from the occasional whinny of a horse or soft bellow of one of the oxen, the camp was quiet.

 
     
     
    Chapter Twenty Seven
     
    Gillie rode to meet them as they neared the banks of the Nepean River. Waving his cabbage-tree hat he drew his horse in beside the wagon where Thelma sat. "Ho, how's it?" he shouted, grinning.
    "Fine, just fine. Did all go well? I see you have all the stock safely ac ross." Thelma gestured to Dougal, who stood on the far bank.
    "Aye, 'tis fortunate we took the fleece off the sheep afore we left. We feared we'd lose some. But all are over safely, though it took a while." Gillie saluted Tiger when he rode up. "How was your night, Thelma? Not too cold in the tent?" His smile faded as he gave her a keen look.
    "She had a bout of coughing, Gillie, but it eased with the medicine," Isabella assured him. Her reassurance didn't help, for his frown deepened.
    Tiger looked to the darkening sky, saying, "Let 's get as much as we can across before nightfall. Do you think we'll manage without offloading some of the stuff, Gillie?"
    The foreman shook his head. "No. I 'd say it'd pay you to take the wagons over as light as possible. We don't want to sink in the mud. 'Tis very soft sand, I doubt it would take a heavy load. Certainly not the drays."
    Tiger nodded and turned to the men. "Right, start lifting the top layer off the drays, men, and you can take the wagons across. We 'll have no trouble with the smaller loads." He dismounted and came to Isabella. "I suggest the women make camp this side, away from the animals," he said.
    Reaching up, he assisted her from the wagon. As soon as her feet hit the ground Isabella disentangled herself from his arms. His golden eyes sparked with displeasure. To hell with the man, why was he suddenly forcing his attentions on her?
    The task was slow and laborious. Even though they took half the load off the first dray it sank to its axle in the sand, so they were forced to unload more and tote it back. The next wagon had to return twice.
    Tiger fashioned a line on a stick for the boys to dangle in the water to keep them occupied while the work went on. Dougal sullenly watched them for a while, then returned to the other bank to assist in caring for the stock.
    As night fell and the bullocks returned for their final load, one of the teamsters approached Tiger as he rode out of the water, suggesting they unhitch the bullocks to let them forage.
    Lily helped in the erecting of the tents then began to cook strips of pork in the long-handled pan over one of the fires. Agnes sat yawning, tired after helping with the chores.
    "Tim, Dougie, come here," Isabella called. "It's well past your bedtime. Where's the bitch, Agnes? The boys were playing with her pups."
    They 'd been over-excited by the prospect of camping by the river. Tiger promised they could try to catch a fish again in the morning while the rest of the luggage was taken over. Isabella scanned the area within the circle of firelight. They'd been there just a few moments ago. A sinking in her stomach had her jumping to her feet.
    "They went off behind yon bush, Missus," Agnes said, rubbing her neck as she stretched her arms above her head. "The boys had one of the pups with them. The bitch was following them."
    The bitch appeared out of the undergrowth, the pup in her jaws. She put it in the box with the other pups, who squealed to be fed. Isabella scanned the bushes, her insides clenching when the boys didn't follow the dog. Time seemed suspended and an eerie silence surrounded her. Or was it the ringing in her ears drowning out all other sounds?
    "You we re supposed to be watching them." Panic caught hold of her as she lifted her