Shadows in the Valley

by Elizabeth Haran

  “Good afternoon, Miss Scottsdale,” Heath said when he reached her.

  “Good afternoon, Mr. Mason,” Abbey said.

  “May I be so bold as to suggest you call me Heath? ‘Mr. Mason’ will always be my father.”

  Abbey’s head dropped, and her defences darted back into place.

  “I’m sorry,” Heath said. “I shouldn’t have mentioned him.”

  “I’d rather you didn’t,” Abbey said uncomfortably. Just hearing his name was like having a bucket of icy water splashed on her.

  “I’m off to a bad start, aren’t I?” Heath sighed, watching her closely. He couldn’t let his plans crumble now. Too much was at stake. “Let’s start again, shall we? How has your day been so far?”

  Remembering her ride with Jack fondly, Abbey broke into a spontaneous smile. “Very good, actually,” she said. “I had a tour of Bungaree with Jack this morning.”

  “How delightful,” Heath said, noting her reaction with interest.

  “I even learned a few things about sheep breeding,” Abbey added, with a touch of excitement.

  Heath unfolded the blanket and laid it on the grass nearby, in the shade. He then proceeded to unpack the contents of the picnic basket.

  Abbey’s eyes widened as he produced a variety of cheeses, cold chicken, a bowl of olives and tomatoes, sliced fruit, bread rolls, a crock of butter with a lid so that it wouldn’t melt, and sliced fruitcake. She wasn’t as pleased to see a bottle of wine and two glasses.

  “Heath, this is wonderful,” she said, delighted with the food. “You’ve gone to so much trouble.”

  “I’d like to take the credit, but I had my housekeeper” he stopped himself short when he realised what he was saying. “I had Mrs. Hendy put this together for me,” he finished. The realisation that Mrs. Hendy was not, in reality, his housekeeper, but Abbey’s, nearly choked him. Fortunately, Abbey didn’t know that, and if he had his way, she never would.

  “Have you invited guests I don’t know about? There’s enough food here to feed six hungry people,” Abbey exclaimed.

  “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I requested a variety.” He held out his hand to help her down to the blanket. He then handed her a plate. “I hope you are hungry.”

  “I’m ravenous,” Abbey admitted.

  “Then please help yourself,” Heath said. “I’ll pour the wine.”

  “None for me,” Abbey said quickly and then blushed uncomfortably.

  Heath tilted his head to one side, giving her an understanding smile. “I’m having just a little. Won’t you join me?” he asked persuasively.

  Abbey looked into his eyes, which were so unlike his father’s. “Very well, then,” she said, not wanting to appear distrusting after he’d made such an effort. “Just a little for me, too.”

  Heath felt he had won a small victory, and it pleased him. He needed Abbey to relax enough to show her true character, and he felt he could accomplish this best with some wine. He began pouring the wine while Abbey put some food on her plate.

  A short time later, while Heath and Abbey were eating their picnic lunch, Clementine arrived. As she stepped down from her carriage near the front door, she noticed the couple under the shade of the wattle tree. She watched them for a few moments before going into the house. Abbey saw her and contemplated waving, but as Clementine didn’t, she didn’t, either.

  “That was Clementine Feeble, wasn’t it?” Heath asked.

  “Yes, are you acquainted with her?” Abbey said.

  “We’ve crossed paths socially on many occasions. I had heard she was seeing Mr. Hawker, but to be honest, I didn’t think it was true.”

  “Why not?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought he’d suit her.”

  Abbey was baffled by the comment. In her mind, Jack was everything a man should be. He was handsome, kind, intelligent, gentle, and thoughtful. “Why do you say that?”

  “I could never imagine Miss Feeble as a farmer’s wife. I could see her married to a doctor or a bank manager, but not a farmer. Not one who actually laboured on his own land, anyway.” His father had owned farmland, and he lived on that land, but neither man had ever lifted a hoe, let alone rounded up livestock.

  “What’s wrong with a farmer?” Abbey asked. She couldn’t see that living in Jack’s beautiful house as Jack’s wife, would be any hardship.

  “I believe life on a farm would be too dull for her, and she’s not the type of woman to get her hands dirty. I know Mr. Hawker has servants, but could you actually see her feeding chickens or collecting eggs on their day off?”

  Abbey couldn’t, but then she didn’t know her very well. “I don’t know that they have plans to marry, but apparently Miss Feeble and Mr. Hawker have been seeing each other for almost a year,” Abbey said. “So, she must be well aware of what life would entail as a farmer’s wife, don’t you think?”

  “She must be very fond of Mr. Hawker,” Heath said more skeptically than thoughtfully. He didn’t say what he really thought, which was that she’d lowered her standards since he’d rebuffed her flirtatious advances. She obviously still intended to do as well for herself as she could. Jack was well-respected, and Heath had heard that Bungaree was making good money, although the farm could never hope to match the Martindale estate.

  “I’ve been hired as a companion for Mr. Hawker’s mother. She’s finding life out here rather tedious,” Abbey said, wondering whether Clementine would, too, if she lived at Bungaree. “So, I suppose life on a farm isn’t for everyone.”

  “What about you? Will you be bored out here?” Heath asked.

  “Not at all,” Abbey said. “I think Bungaree is amazing.”

  Heath studied her closely. She was a beautiful woman, there was no doubt about that, but the thought of her having Martindale Hall made him sick. Not for the first time, he silently cursed his dead father for putting his inheritance at risk.

  ***

  Once Elsa admitted Clementine to the house, she wasted no time in confronting Jack.

  “Is that Heath Mason in the garden with your mother’s companion?” she demanded to know as she removed her bonnet.

  “Good afternoon to you, too, Clementine, and, yes,” Jack said flatly. He didn’t ask what she was doing there, as she’d told him the day before that she would come out to Bungaree again that afternoon. He’d thought it odd at the time, as he usually saw her only once a week.

  “How does someone like Heath Mason know a girl from Burra?” Clementine asked in astonishment.

  “Actually, he met her here,” Jack said, looking out of the living room window in Abbey and Heath’s direction. He didn’t want to divulge that Abbey had been the victim of Heath’s father’s lecherous ways or that he was worried about what Heath wanted with her.

  “Surely he’s not courting her,” Clementine said in disbelief.

  “I don’t know what he’s doing,” Jack said truthfully. “But I intend to find out.”

  Clementine looked at Jack. Had she detected a hint of protectiveness in his tone? “He is going to be a very wealthy man when his father passes away,” Clementine said, thinking aloud as she joined Jack at the window.

  “Didn’t you know?” Jack said, glancing at her.

  “Know what?”

  “His father passed away in his sleep a few days ago. I guess it’s not public knowledge yet.”

  Clementine gasped. “I hadn’t heard,” she said, looking towards the garden again. Now she was really baffled about why he’d be seeing Abbey. After coming into his father’s money, he would have his choice of any woman for miles around. She was suddenly quite intrigued by Abbey and determined to learn more about her.

  ***

  As she ate, Abbey noticed that Heath glanced at her gown several times. Embarrassed, she realised he was probably thinking that it was the same gown she’d been wearing the
previous day. She felt compelled to explain.

  “I have no clothes of my own,” Abbey said softly.

  Heath looked startled. “Pardon?”

  “I noticed you looking at what I’m wearing. This is a dress that Mrs. Hawker gave me. I had a small selection of my own clothes, but I left them in Burra.” She was too ashamed to tell him that they would have been stolen very soon after she vacated Creek Street and the dugout. “I’ll be going shopping in Clare as soon as I can, though.” It suddenly crossed Abbey’s mind that she was free to return to Burra if she wanted to. But she couldn’t face the memories there, and without her father or Neal, there was nothing to return to.

  Heath was thinking that Abbey was, legally speaking, wealthier than she could ever imagine, but he couldn’t tolerate the thought of her getting her hands on what was rightfully his. He had considered the possibility that she wouldn’t want anything to do with his father’s estate, given that she despised him, but it was unlikely that anyone would be principled enough to turn down a fortune, especially someone who’d had to struggle their entire lives. He had to know, though. He’d devised a series of seemingly innocent questions to ask her in the hopes of learning how she felt about inheriting his father’s money, without her knowing what he was really asking. Her answers would give him a clue about how best to proceed. He had one month to turn the situation to his advantage, and that’s exactly what he planned to do.

  “Are you a woman who longs for an abundance of beautiful gowns?” he asked her casually.

  “I’ve always been poor, so I don’t know what it would feel like to have an extravagant selection of gowns.”

  “But if you were to suddenly inherit a great deal of money, would you go on a wild spending spree?”

  Abbey thought about it. “Perhaps,” she said, frightening Heath. “But that will never happen to me, as I have very few family members in Ireland, and none of them are wealthy. The odds of me ever inheriting money are smaller than the odds that it will snow here in the next hour. But that’s fine. What you’ve never had, you never miss.” That had been one of her father’s favourite sayings, and she smiled as his voice echoed in her mind.

  “Indeed,” Heath said thoughtfully.

  “Have you always been wealthy?” Abbey asked him. She’d doubted Ebenezer Mason’s story, the one he’d told her father about working the goldfields.

  Surprised by the question, Heath studied her for a moment. “As a matter of fact, no. When I was young, we were very poor.” He would be poor again if things didn’t go his way. The thought was intolerable, and for a moment Heath felt physically ill.

  Abbey noticed a flicker of pain cross his features and wondered if he were remembering unhappy times in his past. “Forgive my astonishment, but I find that hard to believe,” she said. Even harder to imagine.

  “It’s true,” Heath said, barely disguising the bitterness he felt at returning to a lifestyle he’d believed to be in his past. “Before my father found a great deal of gold in the Victorian gold fields, we lived in poverty.” Heath didn’t like to remember those days. He and his mother had spent long, hot days in a tent in the dusty gold fields. In the winter, which was freezing, the rain had soaked their small tent, and the wind had sometimes blown it away. His father had always been angry because he hated physical work, and digging for gold was back-breaking. He’d also insisted Heath work alongside him at times, even though he had partners, two foreigners who spoke little English. They drank excessively and often argued, sometimes coming to blows. It had been a dreadful time, a horrible nightmare that Heath tried hard not to think about.

  Abbey didn’t like talking about Ebenezer Mason, but if everything Heath told her was true, there was a question she needed answered. “If your father knew what it was like to struggle, why was he so cruel towards those less fortunate than himself?” she asked.

  “I shouldn’t say this, but I’ll be truthful. My father had always been an arrogant man,” Heath said. “He wasn’t any different when he was penniless. It was just his nature.”

  Abbey was surprised by his candidness. She was beginning to feel very sorry for Heath. “Is that why you didn’t get along?”

  “Yes, that had a lot to do with it,” he said, silently adding: That, and his greedy young wife. “He was a very difficult man to relate to, and he was a cold father. I’ve made a conscious effort in my adult life to be nothing like him. I hope I’ve succeeded.”

  Abbey was pleased and quite relieved to hear this. It put her more at ease in his company.

  Heath thought about his questions and how best to lead her to the subject he wanted to discuss. “I have an uncle who is just like my father, worse perhaps,” he said. This was a lie. “He lives in Victoria.”

  “Really,” Abbey said.

  “He’s very wealthy and has no familyno wife or children. I believe I’m to be his beneficiary when he dies.”

  Abbey thought this was an odd thing to tell her, but trusted he was going somewhere relevant.

  “I really don’t want his money,” Heath said after a moment’s silence. “I don’t think it would feel right taking it, given how I feel about him. Taking it would seem hypocritical.”

  “You weren’t too fond of your father, either,” Abbey said. “But you are his only heir, aren’t you?”

  “That’s different,” Heath said quickly. “It’s my birthright.”

  “I suppose so,” Abbey conceded. “And someone will be needed to run the property and the Burra Monster Mine.”

  Heath nodded, pleased to hear that Abbey agreed.

  “Perhaps you could donate your uncle’s money to a worthy cause,” she suggested.

  “Is that what you would do?” Heath asked. “If you inherited the estate of someone you detested?” He held his breath for the answer.

  “I don’t know,” Abbey admitted.

  “If you really disliked your benefactor, do you think you’d decline his money?”

  “In your case, it wouldn’t make much difference to your life if you declined the inheritance. I’m penniless, however, so inheriting a large sum of money could make an incredible difference in my life. For that reason, I’d have to give it serious thought.”

  Heath felt sick at heart. “So, it wouldn’t bother your conscience?” he asked, barely able to keep his tone impassive.

  “I don’t know. I think I’d try to do some good with the money.”

  “Good?” Heath echoed, struggling to restrain the bubble of anger rising in him.

  “I’d buy myself a house, of course, for stability, but I’d put some of the money to use by helping other unfortunate souls. I’d have to think about exactly how I’d do that, however.”

  God, Heath thought, she’d squander the money. My money! What was he to do?

  “Are you all right, Heath?” Abbey asked. “You’ve gone awfully pale.”

  “I don’t feel so well,” Heath admitted truthfully. “If you don’t mind, I’ll think I’ll be on my way.”

  “Why don’t you come inside the house and rest for a while?” She was sure Jack wouldn’t object under the circumstances. “It’s very warm this afternoon. The heat may be affecting you.”

  “No, I’ll go. I’ll collect the picnic basket another time.” Heath stood up. “Goodbye for now,” he said, and without another word began heading for his carriage. He didn’t look back, but he imagined Abbey was quite bewildered by his sudden departure.

  Abbey stood up and watched him as he turned his carriage and headed down the road. She wanted to call out and ask him again to stay, but he seemed determined to get away. A few moments later, he’d gone without even a wave in her direction. How odd, she thought.

  CHAPTER 14

  Jack was in the hallway, about to leave the house through the back, when Abbey came in the front door.

  “Where’s Mr. Mason?” Jack asked when he saw Abbey w
as alone and carrying the picnic basket.

  “He just left.”

  “Left?!” He’d been talking to Elias at the backdoor for a few minutes and hadn’t heard the carriage leave. “So soon?”

  “He said he didn’t feel well and wanted to go home,” Abbey said, still thinking that his behaviour had been rather odd.

  “What was wrong with him?” Jack asked. “Perhaps you should have invited him inside if he was ill.”

  “I’m not sure exactly, and I did ask him to come into the house, out of the heat, but he declined and hurried away.” Abbey wondered if she should be concerned.

  “I hope he’s all right,” Jack said, frowning.

  Again, Abbey admired his thoughtfulness. “So do I,” she said as she moved towards him, intent on depositing the picnic basket in the kitchen. She happened to glance into the living room as she passed the door and caught sight of Clementine on the sofa. “Good afternoon, Miss Feeble,” she said.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Scottsdale, and please, call me Clementine,” Clementine said cheerfully.

  Abbey noted that Clementine’s tone was much friendlier than it had been before. It was turning out to be a day of surprises.

  “Of course, Clementine, and please, call me Abbey,” Abbey replied.

  Clementine had overheard what Abbey said to Jack and was relieved that Heath had declined to come inside. The last time she’d been in his company, several months ago, she’d made quite a fool of herself. She’d had several glasses of wine at a fundraising event in town held by the mayor, and had flirted shamelessly with him. Remembering how he’d in turns ignored and even insulted her still sent a wave of humiliation through her, so she’d been avoiding him ever since. She knew she wouldn’t be able to steer clear of him indefinitely, as they had many mutual acquaintances. She just hadn’t expected to almost run into him at Bungaree.