"Don't hurt her!" A feminine voice called out, the tone cutting like a knife.
Henry's brown eyes shifted from the grey beast to see the loveliest woman, wearing a blue dress and a matching blue hat covering her blonde hair. When she got closer to pick up the grey beast, he could see she had green-blue eyes and soiled her cotton-white gloves with the beast's uncleanliness.
She was tall, just a few feet shorter than himself, with him being 6 feet tall and fair skin that complimented her blonde hair beautifully. She had a sharp yet elegantly defined face, an equally defined jawline, and high cheekbones, and for a brief moment, Henry was thrown at how such a beauty could be in such a grotty place like Australia.
"Y-you shouldn't touch it! Put it down! He'll hurt you!" Henry demanded through his startled stammer, pointing to the grey bear.
The blonde beauty smirked with her full lips, causing faint lines to appear on her face, "She wouldn't hurt a fly, let alone some silly man. If anything, you were about to hurt her!"
"Her? Beasts cannot be female. That's a male!" Henry insisted, his darker eyes widening at the absurdity of this woman.
She ignored him, lifting the creature from behind so its back was facing her and its paws away from her covered skin, "Oh, and you are an expert on the sexes of koalas?" she tauntingly asked.
Henry shakes his head swiftly, "Of course not! Such creatures don't exist."
"Maybe not in England, but here in Australia, where we both are, koalas roam as freely as horses!" she states, using her arm to point at Hannibal, who had begun to wander around, causing Henry to run to grab his bridle.
"And you have the nerve to tell me how to handle animals when you cannot handle your steed. I pity the people who rely on you as protection, sir." She remarks, spitting the word sir as she walks to the side of the dirt path and close to a tree.
"Here you go, Medusa." She spoke more softly and gently to the koala female, watching as the koala grabbed the branch of the eucalyptus tree and began climbing up, staring down at the blonde female who had helped her.
"Miss Montague, the carriage is safe to enter now," said the coachman, tipping his hat at the blonde woman.
Montague?
Henry squinted his dark eyes curiously.
Why was that name so familiar to him?
"I'd say good day to you, sir, but my parents taught me to be honest about my feelings, so I wish a bad day to you, sir." Miss Montague bowed mockingly before walking to the open carriage door and stepping and sitting inside, with the well-dressed gentleman following in and entering the carriage. The carriage door closed, and with the sounds of the whip, the carriage continued until it was a speck in the hazy, shot distance.
Montague.
Henry growled as he climbed onto Hannibal and trotted into the town where his aunt and uncle had chosen to settle.
Willowbrook.
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Inside the carriage, Hilda scowled, "The nerve of that boy! To tell me what to do about an animal he was about to trample to death? Medusa wasn't harmful to anyone!"
Charles gently pats his daughter's hand, trying to calm her, "Now, Hilda, we don't know exactly what would've happened. It was kind of you to intervene to help the koala, but picking fights will not help your cause. Sometimes, refusing to react to our opposites can be a powerful statement."
YOU ARE READING
Striking Gold
Historical FictionIt's 1852, and the Australian Gold Rush has begun. Hilda Montague loves Australia, the country she's lived in since birth. Henry Brookshaw despises it, the country he's been sent to by his widower father to spend the summer with his aunt and uncle...
