Dust Off the Bones

here with him. Tommy should have been at his side. Instead, the front pews were filled with strangers in all but name, and Billy stood up there alone. Although not any longer: from the moment Katherine arrived framed in the doorway, her father on her arm, neither was alone from now on. Later, back at the homestead, Billy would collar his new father-in-law and put him up against a wall, and warn him that if he ever showed his face at Broken Ridge again he would be taken down to the stockyards, tied to a post, and gelded like a no-good bull, Wilson Drummond’s face whitening at the realization that not only had his daughter married the kind of man who would make such a threat, but also one whose reputation suggested he might actually carry it through. And he would leave then, the coward, after an awkward, perfunctory farewell, scuttling back to the city he’d come from, Billy and Katherine standing on the verandah together, watching him go.

When the ceremony was over they came down the aisle arm in arm as husband and wife. The crowd applauded, smiling faces andteary eyes, men climbing over each other to shake Billy’s hand. Working their way slowly to the doors, a guard of honor alreadyforming outside, when through the scattered bodies Billy glimpsed a very tall man at the back of the church, leaning againstthe wall. He hadn’t taken his hat off. He smiled and touched the brim; Billy tightened his grip on Katherine’s arm. Noonewas politely clapping, joining in with the crowd, and though he and Billy watched each other all the way to the doors, hedid not move from that position: smirking at the newlyweds, reclining against the wall.

Out they came, into the sunshine, and a showering of rice and grain. Katherine squealed as it peppered them, running to thewaiting carriage and bundling inside, reeling in her dress-train. Billy fell against her on the bench. She was laughing breathlessly,her cheeks were flushed. He doubted there’d ever been a more beautiful bride. As the carriage pulled away the crowd surgedafter them along the street, and there were well-wishers lining the pavements either side. Some threw flowers, others simplystared; while Katherine leaned through the open window and waved to those she knew, Billy twisted to check on the church.The doors were wide open, the congregation spilling out, flowing past the giant silhouette of Noone—his hat, his longcoat—immovableamong them, like a river around a stone.

“What is it?” Katherine asked, her hand on his thigh.

Billy spun. “Nothing, it’s fine.”

The town receded behind them, the crowd and noise died away. Katherine flopped back on the bench, sighed, looked at him andsmiled.

“So that’s that done,” Billy said.

“My husband, the great romantic.”

“All I meant was—”

“I know. I’m only teasing.”

“Sounds odd you saying it: husband.”

“It does, doesn’t it?”

“Reckon we’ll get used to it?”

She shrugged. “You can get used to anything if you give it long enough.”

“Now who’s being romantic?”

“Sorry. I’m just tired.”

A brief silence. Billy said, “I wasn’t expecting so many people.”

“Nor me. You’re more popular than I thought.”

“They came for you. Get a look at that dress.”

“Do you like it?”

“Aye.”

“Shall I keep it on a while? Till tonight, maybe?”

Her eyes danced with mischief. Billy said, “If you want to.”

“Do you want me to, though?”

“Aye.”

A thump on the side of the carriage. The driver slowed. Billy sprang to the window and looked out: they were passing the nativecamps, and a group of boys throwing stones. The driver yelled and cursed them. Another volley of stones. One hit the backof the carriage and Katherine flinched. “Go, man!” Billy ordered. The coach pulled away with a jerk. The boys gave chase,the next stone missed, and Billy was about to sit down again when he saw by the roadside a very old man standing there inhis rags, his face gummed with anger, furiously shaking a stick, shouting as the coach passed.

“Where’s them Kurrong at, Billy? Where’s them Kurrong gone, eh? Does she know what you did to ’em? Does she know what youdone?”

Billy slammed up the window. The old man was gone. Billy retook his seat and felt Katherine watching him, fixed his stareresolutely ahead.

“What was that about?”

“How should I know?”

“You didn’t know that man?”

“’Course not. How the hell would I?”

“Well, he seemed to know you.”

“I don’t know him, I just said.”

Silence between them. The coach rumbling on. Eventually Katherine stirred and asked, “What did he mean about the Kurrong?About what you did?”

He looked at her sharply. “You know what we did. You were there!”

“I know what you all told me. Ran them off into the center, so you said.”

“Exactly.”

“And I’ve also heard the rumors. The same as that old man.”

“So who do you believe, me or him?”

“You, if that’s what you’re saying.” She stared at him. “Well? Is it?”

“Christ, Katie—today of all days.”

“Answer me, Billy.”

“You know what they’re like out here. Every story’s better for the telling.”

“So he’s wrong? They all are?”

The lie washed out of him, easy as a breath: “We went out after Joseph and got him, and that’s all there is to it. There werea couple others with him but the rest . . . they buggered off into the center, and bloody good riddance too.”

“And you’ll swear to it?”

“Why are you so bothered about all this suddenly?”

“Because I want to know the man I just married, the father of my child. For better or worse, remember. Even this.”

Billy laughed weakly. “Bit late now.”

“Swear it, Billy. On our wedding day.”

“I just told you . . .”

“Swear it.”

“All right, for Christ’s sake.”

She said no more about it. Quietly, Billy stewed. Katherine adjusted her dress and turned to the window, to the continuumof sun-blushed red scrubland streaming by outside. So this is how it begins, she thought to herself. The first day of therest of their lives.

Chapter 14

Tommy McBride

They limped into Marree like troops back from war, Tommy riding beside Jack Kerrigan at the head of the cattle train, Arthurat the back with the dogs and mules. It felt