Praise for Nicole Hurley-Moore
Lawson’s Bend
‘Nicole Hurley-Moore has once again proved to me that she is a trusted figure in the world of Australian rural fiction. Lawson’s Bend delivers on all fronts, providing readers with the ideal mix of small town intricacies, mystery and a hearty romance. I am hoping we can expect plenty more to come.’ —Mrs B’s Book Reviews
White Gum Creek
‘The perfect summer read.’ —Noveltea Corner
Country Roads
‘A heartwarming tale of taking chances, facing your fears and opening yourself up to new experiences.’
—Beauty and Lace
Hartley’s Grange
‘… lives are put back together, lessons are learned, and old friends resurface in a timeless story of life, love and living. A wonderful read for a lazy Sunday afternoon which will leave you with a total dose of that “feelgood” feeling!’ —Blue Wolf Reviews
McKellan’s Run
‘So very readable—you won’t be able to put it down.’
—Newcastle Herald
Nicole Hurley-Moore grew up in Melbourne and has travelled extensively, whilst living through the romance of books. Her first passion in life has always been her family, but since doing her Honours in Medieval Literature she has devoted much of her time to writing historical romance. Nicole is a full-time writer who lives in the Central Highlands of Victoria with her family in the peaceful surrounds of a semi-rural town. She is the author of the immensely popular novels McKellan’s Run, Hartley’s Grange, Country Roads, White Gum Creek, Lawson’s Bend and The McCalister Legacy.
First published in 2020
Copyright © Nicole Hurley-Moore 2020
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.
Allen & Unwin
83 Alexander Street
Crows Nest NSW 2065
Australia
Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100
Email: [email protected]
Web: www.allenandunwin.com
ISBN 978 1 76087 554 1
eISBN 978 1 76087 498 8
Set by Midland Typesetters, Australia
Cover design: Mika Tabata
Cover photographs: Getty Images
For Ciandra, Conor and Alannah.
And for Chris because I couldn’t have finished the book without him.
Contents
Chapter One: Stone Gully Farm, 2007
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four: Doherty’s Farm, 1906
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight: Harlington, 2007
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten: 2007
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen: 2007
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen: Somewhere down Folly’s Track, 1906
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-two: Somewhere in the bush, 1906
Chapter Twenty-three
Chapter Twenty-four: Stone Gully Farm, 2007
Chapter Twenty-five
Chapter Twenty-six: In the Gully, 1906
Chapter Twenty-seven
Chapter Twenty-eight
Chapter Twenty-nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-one: In the Gully, 1906
Chapter Thirty-two
Chapter Thirty-three: Finding a way home, 1906
Chapter Thirty-four
Chapter Thirty-five: Stone Gully Farm, 2007
Chapter Thirty-six
Chapter Thirty-seven: In the Gully, 2007
Chapter Thirty-eight
Chapter Thirty-nine
Chapter Forty: Stone Gully Farm, 2007
Chapter Forty-one
Chapter Forty-two
Chapter Forty-three: Dohertys’ Farm, 1906
Chapter One
Stone Gully Farm, 2007
Berenice McCalister waved as her best friend, Jodie, got into her mum’s car.
‘Bye Berry, it was a great party,’ Jodie called out. ‘See you on Monday.’
‘See you later,’ Berry called back before spinning around to her mum, her ponytail whipping behind her. ‘Can’t I stay at Jodie’s place too? Why does Jess get to go?’ Just as Jodie and Berry were best friends, so were their little sisters. And tonight Jessica was having a sleepover at the Fords’ place.
Her mum shook her head as she pushed a strand of Berry’s dark hair back behind her ear. ‘No, not this time, sweetheart. I promised your sister that she could have a sleepover with Katie.’
‘Yes, but it’s my birthday,’ Berry argued.
‘And you’ve had a big party with all your friends. There’ve been games and cake and presents. You should be exhausted!’
‘Yes, but …’
‘Let your sister have this, okay? And I promise I’ll talk to Jodie’s mum next week and we’ll arrange a sleepover for you—deal?’
Berry would have given anything to spend the night at Jodie’s, but she looked at her mother and reluctantly nodded. ‘Deal.’
‘Thank you for understanding. I can’t believe you’re such a big girl now—ten years old. Seriously, I don’t know where the time has gone,’ her mum said as she bent down and pulled Berry into a tight hug. ‘Besides, I need you to help me with your brother. What will Tommy do if both his sisters are gone?’
‘I suppose …’ Berry said. She was disappointed but her mum was right, she’d had a great day and Berry did like playing with her baby brother—as long as he wasn’t crying or had a potty-training accident.
Berry leaned against her mother’s side and waved at Jessica as the Fords’ car drove down the drive.
‘Come on, let’s see what your dad and grandad are up to,’ her mum said as she stood up and held out her hand. Berry took it and together they walked back inside the old farmhouse. ‘And maybe you can have another slice of cake?’
‘Yes, please,’ Berry said as she licked her lips. Her birthday cake had been just perfect: vanilla layers with cream and strawberries on top, lightly covered with icing sugar and pink pearlised dust; pale pink and gold paper encircling the sides of the cake, finished off with a large pink satin ribbon. When her grandma had asked what sort of cake she wanted, Berry had said a grown-up one and not something with a princess on it. And Grandma had delivered—not only was it the loveliest cake Berry had ever seen, it was also the most delicious.
The McCalisters had lived at Stone Gully Farm for generations. Over the decades the family had tried to diversify and hedge their bets by not just running sheep but also planting crops and a small apple orchard, and now Berry’s dad was venturing into olives. It wasn’t as prosperous as some of the big sheep runs in the area, but Stone Gully had always provided a living for the family. Some years were leaner than others, but it was a living nonetheless. This year hadn’t been especially rewarding, but Berry had still got her birthday party and some presents, including a beautiful new bike from her grandparents.
<
br /> Later that evening just before sunset, Berry was out in the back yard riding her new bike. It was a shiny ruby red, with reflectors on the pedals, a light and a straw basket decorated with red daisies sitting at the front. It was the prettiest thing ever, except for the necklace from Mum and Dad, a tiny gold heart outlined in rubies. It was hanging around her neck and it made her feel very grown up.
The late February air was still warm but the light would fade soon as the sun dropped behind the hill in the distance. She had been allowed to stay up later than usual because it was her birthday. It was a Saturday and she’d worked on her father until he’d laughed and agreed. That tactic usually didn’t work out so well, but it had tonight.
Berry rode another circuit around the clothesline, all the while wishing she could take off down the track behind the back of the house. It was a great track, it went through Stone Gully and into the bush, and if you followed it right to the end it would lead you to the outskirts of town. She’d only ridden the whole thing once with her father. It had taken almost an hour but it had been worth it. She was good at bike riding and had been doing it ever since Dad had taken the training wheels off when she was six.
Her grandmother opened the back door and stood out on the verandah, wiping her hands on her apron. It made Berry smile; no one else she knew wore an apron like that, but Grandma had a selection of brightly coloured cotton ones that were firmly tied around her waist in a giddy, colourful rotation. Some were check, others striped, but tonight she was wearing her favourite, which was covered in blue and purple flowers with dark purple binding all around the edges. The only time Grandma was ever seen not wearing an apron was when she went into town.
‘Hey Berry Cherry, five more minutes, okay?’ her grandmother called as she smoothed out her blonde hair. It was the same colour as Mum’s but with silvery streaks near her temples. Sometimes Berry wished she had that blonde hair instead of dark brown. Her mum said that she and her brother and sister had the same hair as Dad. Most of the time Berry didn’t care but when the sun turned her mum’s hair golden she couldn’t help wishing that it could have been different.
‘Yes, Grandma,’ she said as she continued her circuit. ‘Thanks again for the bike, I love it,’ she called over her shoulder.
‘And I love you. I’ll come and get you in few more minutes,’ her grandma said before disappearing back through the door.
Berry rode and rode, and began to hum. Around and around she went, and the light began to fade. Just as she was on her final lap, she thought she caught the sound of an angry voice so she slowed down. Stopping the bike, she tilted her head and listened in surprise. She had never heard voices raised in anger in her home before, and for a moment she thought that maybe she’d imagined it, as everything appeared now to be quiet, except for the last mournful warble of a nearby magpie. But just as she was about to start peddling again, the noise erupted from inside the farmhouse. It sounded like an argument, and although she couldn’t make out the words, she thought she recognised her father’s deep voice.
Berry jumped as the back door flew open and her mother ran towards her holding little Tom in her arms. Suddenly Berry felt afraid; she didn’t understand what was happening but she knew something was terribly wrong. There was an expression in her mum’s eyes that Berry had never seen before—fear.
‘Get back on your bike, sweetheart,’ her mother said quickly as she placed little Tom in the basket between the handlebars. ‘That’s it, good girl.’
Berry did what she said and her mother started pushing the bike and running alongside it. She was steering them to the old back gate that opened up to the rest of the farm.
‘Mum, what’s the matter?’
‘Everything’s going to be all right, darling. I need you to ride into town, as fast as you can. Get to the Fords’ place and tell Jodie’s mum to ring the police. Can you do that for me, Berry?’
She was about to answer when suddenly from somewhere in the house came a loud bang, like Grandad’s old ute backfiring.
Berry looked over her shoulder and saw her grandmother appear at the back door. Her face was pale and there was a panicked look in her grey eyes. ‘Oh God, Cath,’ she called out. ‘He’s coming! Hurry!’
Another bang went off as Mum opened the gate and pushed Berry’s bike through. ‘Whatever happens, sweetheart, just keep riding. Don’t stop until you get to Jodie’s.’
Berry looked at her mother and saw that there were tears beginning to fall down her cheeks.
‘Mum, where’s Dad? I’m scared.’
‘You’ll be fine,’ she said as she squeezed her hand. ‘You’re my big, brave girl and I love you. Promise me that you’ll keep riding as fast as you can and don’t look back.’
Berry nodded because she couldn’t manage to croak out an answer. She swallowed hard as her eyes began to well.
‘Look after your brother and sister. They’ll need you.’
‘I promise, Mum.’
Her mother gave her a final smile but her eyes were bright with tears. Tom was sitting silently, his face white with fear as he picked up on his mother’s emotion. ‘I love you all more than anything. Now go, as quick as you can!’ she said before giving Berry’s bike a final push down the track.
She did what her mother said and didn’t look back until she reached the bend in the track. Berry glanced towards the house and saw her mother running in the opposite direction—through the back paddocks towards the dam. The thin saplings that lined the track obscured her view as she rode, but she thought she saw a figure chasing after her mother. She wasn’t sure, though, and she had to keep looking ahead to avoid the potholes in the dusty road and make sure Tom was safe in the basket. Her heart beat fast as she tried again and again to catch a glimpse of her mum through the trees. She’d never been so scared; she wanted to turn the bike around and go back but she’d promised to go to the Fords no matter what. A lump was forming in her throat and another in the pit of her stomach as the little red bike flew down the track. Berry pedalled as fast as she could and prayed that Tommy wouldn’t start to fuss—but he didn’t, not even once, as if he sensed that something was very, very wrong. Ahead by an ancient ghost gum the path veered away from Stone Gully, and as she reached it, another loud bang echoed over the darkening landscape. Berry didn’t know what the sound meant but it made her cry harder. Despite the tears blurring her eyes, she did what Mum had asked and kept going all the way into town.
Chapter Two
Berry McCalister pulled off the dirt road and brought her car to a stop. She took a deep breath but it didn’t calm her nerves at all. She reached over and grabbed her denim jacket from the passenger’s seat before reluctantly getting out of the car.
Berry shrugged on her jacket and pulled it around her. It was the middle of autumn, and even though the sun kept peeping out from a blanket of grey clouds, the wind had a chill to it, making Berry regret not bringing a scarf. She walked around her small red hatchback and leaned against the bonnet. Perhaps it was to give her support or the sense that she was still close enough to jump back into the car and drive off. Berry quashed down the feeling. She was here and it was time to confront the past.
She raised her head. A few metres in front of her was a shabby-looking wooden fence. Most of the once-white paint had faded away. Berry frowned as her phone rang in her pocket. Glancing down at the screen, she saw her sister’s name flash up.
‘Hey Jess.’
‘Hey. Are you there yet? Are you okay?’
Berry smiled. ‘I’ve just pulled up and, yes, I’m fine.’
‘All right, good,’ Jess said before pausing for a moment. ‘You don’t have to do this, you know.’
‘Yes, I do,’ Berry said quickly. ‘If we decide to sell, one of us has to see what needs to be done. You’ve got uni and Tom’s in school—so that just leaves me. I’m sure there’ll be a hundred things to do to the place; no one’s been in it for years.’
That wasn’t exactly true. Mr Ford had always kept
an eye on the place. He had a spare key and always let Uncle Dave know if there was a problem.
‘I know. I just don’t know why you didn’t wait? I would have come with you and so would’ve Tommy.’
‘I don’t know what I’ll find.’ She paused. ‘And I suppose I don’t want either of you walking into a wreck.’
‘We’re not kids anymore, Berry.’
‘I know that, I just don’t want your memories of the place to be shattered. Just let me see what it’s like and what needs doing. Once it’s fixed up a bit, then you can come.’
Jess sighed on the other end of the phone, and a flicker of a frown passed over Berry’s face. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘I’m still not sure about selling it. I know, I know—we’ve talked about this again and again, but to be honest, it just doesn’t feel right. I mean, it’s our home.’
‘Jess, our home is wherever the three of us are, as well as Uncle Dave and Nanny and Pop. A house doesn’t define who we are and what we mean to each other,’ Berry said.
‘Yeah, I know. But still …’
‘I’m not saying that we have to sell the farm—I’m just exploring all our options. Once I get the house tidied up, then you and Tommy can come up and we’ll take it from there. I mean, are our lives in Harlington or in Melbourne? Do you want to move back, and if we did, what would we do? These are some of the questions the three of us have to think about. Okay?’
‘Yeah, I know you’re right. I guess I’m just being a little sentimental about a house I barely remember,’ Jess replied.
‘There’s nothing wrong with that.’
‘I suppose it’s the last tangible link we have with Mum, and Granny and Pa … and even Dad,’ Jess said.
Berry heard the pause in her sister’s voice. Mentioning their father was always problematic. It was hard to reconcile the image of the broad-shouldered, shaggy-haired, laughing man who had thrown and caught Berry high in the air as a child, with the monster who had destroyed half of her family. ‘I understand, I feel it too.’
Jess’s voice brightened as she changed the subject. ‘So, where are you going to stay?’
The McCalister Legacy Page 1