Fiery Possession Read Online Free

had to banish because his brother got them with child. Expensive, too, when he felt obliged to give them money to start a new life well away from Kangaroo Gully. A wife would calm the boy down.
    Once Tim was safely married, he would provide Bessie with enough funds to begin a new life somewhere else. The girl did not deserve the condemnation heaped on her by the pious old biddies in town. Knowing Jack, he would probably have forced himself on her. Not that he would ever let anyone know he felt sorry for her. It suited his purposes to be perceived as hard, ruthless and without pity.
    Tim had been outrageously indulged by his doting mother. Bloody young fool would end up in real trouble before too long. Even money and influence couldn’t cover up everything. He gave a deep sigh of regret for not having been a better father figure for the boy. Sometimes the weight of responsibility that he had taken on at such a young age weighed him down, but it wasn’t in his nature to show any sign of weakness.
    Against his will, his thoughts strayed once more to Jo Saunders. Why had she come here?  Ian Morrison verged on bankruptcy - it was common knowledge. In a matter of weeks, the bank would foreclose. Good riddance to him and all other incompetent farmers like him.
    Campton land had once stretched over an area of one-hundred and eighty-thousand acres, but thanks to some ridiculous Government Act in the years 1860 to 1861, it had been forcibly whittled down to less than half that amount.
    Young Morrison had offered well above market value for the property and I wasn’t even given the chance to make a bloody counter offer. He had heard somewhere that the wife was delicate. No local cattle station would employ him, so the Yankee woman must have come to keep the wife company while he left the district for work. Mulvaney had recently hired men to move a mob of sheep up to Queensland.
    Well, Jo Saunders was in for the shock of her life. He would put the pressure on now. He squashed down a twinge of guilt. Hell, he needed Morrison’s land, dozens of families depended on him for their livelihood.
     
    ***
     
    Jo and Ian rode towards the police station. The town of Langford consisted of a wide street with verandah-covered shops on either side. Several narrow alleyways with ramshackle buildings led off the main street. Probably where the poorer townsfolk lived, she surmised. The wind gusting up these alleyways kicked up swirls of dust. No such thing as gutters, just a culvert with wooden planks forming a crossing every hundred yards or so.
    Carriages, wagons, carts and horses crammed the thoroughfare. After they tethered their horses outside the newspaper office, she found herself being introduced to numerous people, mostly farmers who, like Ian, had sunk all their money into small acreages. Debt weighed heavily on them. One bad season meant financial disaster. No wonder worry etched such deep lines on their faces.
    Children, scrubbed clean, wearing worn and patched clothes, chased each other as they ran between the adults. Dark materials dominated. She felt overdressed in her white muslin gown with a soft, red line pattern and sprigs of red roses. The bodice was trimmed with black lace over green ribbon. In retrospect, it would have been wiser to wear something a little more subdued.
    The more farmers Ian told her about, the stronger her impression grew of a town divided. An invisible line had been drawn in the dirt, wealthy squatters and business people on one side, struggling farmers on the other.
    The police sergeant, a lean officious man, listened without comment as she explained about the robbery.
    “You had a pound taken from your purse?” He made the amount sound like a pittance.
    Opening her mouth to protest about his indifference, she caught a desperate, silent plea from Ian and the rebuke died on her lips.
    As they left the police station she muttered. “Why did you stop me from demanding my rights as a citizen? He's here to