CEDAR

The Cedar Cutter 3
‘Oi! I’m talking to you.’
Roisin blinked as the raucous parade swarmed on its way and
the cedar cutter disappeared in a sea of jubilation.
‘I said stay there while I get your bags down.’ The driver climbed
out into the hurrying throng that wavered this way and that, a
tide swelling, rising and falling. ‘There you are.’ He reached out
his hand and she balanced on the wheel before scrambling down
and landing with a thud on the dusty road.
Stretching up, he grabbed Ruan then deposited him and their
bags beside her amidst the swirling chaos. With a wave of his hand
he drew away, leaving her perched on the side of the road, Ruan’s
hand clasped firmly and two carpetbags languishing at her feet.
Her stomach turned three neat summersaults then righted itself.
In the safety of Sydney Aunt Lil’s plan had seemed like such a good
idea. Put the past behind her, make an end of the fear, the constant
over-the-shoulder glances, and strike out on her own. A new
life—all she thought she wanted and all she knew Ruan needed.
The enormity of her decision sat as heavy as her carpetbags.
Snatching a breath of the sticky, fetid air, she pulled Ruan closer,
more for her own comfort than his. Now the whole prospect
seemed the most foolish idea. If only she’d taken time to think it
through instead of packing her bags and fleeing. It was too late for
recriminations. She must find a room for the night then tomorrow
… tomorrow she’d take the next step.
Ruan squirmed from her grip, jiggling with pent-up energy,
and dodged into the road.
‘Stop!’ One of the bags crashed against her shin as she grabbed
at his arm and searched the crowd. No one offered any assistance;
they were far too busy going about their business, making their
way home. Perhaps if she took Ruan inside the inn she could
leave him there and come back for the bags, maybe find someone
to help.