McKellan's Run

by Nicole Hurley-Moore

  ‘And there’s a spark?’ asked Sarah.

  ‘Yes, I think so,’ said Mac.

  ‘Well from what I’ve seen I’d say she likes you. What I can’t understand is that she’s been back in town for almost four months and you’re only getting around to asking her out now? What the hell is holding you back?’

  Mac’s eyes widened in surprise. ‘I thought—’

  Sarah shook her head. ‘I made you promise not to chase her back then, Mac. You were all barely more than children. Besides, Violet needed space, she needed time away from all of us McKellans. But now—’

  ‘It burns me up, Mum. Just thinking of Violet and Lily in the city with no-one they could turn to. She should have been here, safe at home with the people who cared for her. How the hell could her grandfather have turned her and Lily out of their home?’

  Sarah stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her beloved son. ‘I know, sweetheart, but Silas Beckett was a hard and vindictive old man. He blamed everything from his family’s bad fortune to the lack of rain on the McKellans. Violet and Lily probably had a hard time trying to live in the city at first but maybe staying here in Violet Falls would have been even tougher. Violet has grown into a strong and independent woman.’

  ‘And stubborn,’ said Mac.

  ‘Yes, I suppose she can be that,’ Sarah said. ‘The truth is, I blame myself. I keep telling myself that I should have taught Jason to be more responsible; more like you. I want to say he’s just like his father, but that wouldn’t be entirely fair on my first husband Simon. It’s not just his Prescott genes. I must have screwed up somewhere.’

  ‘You were and are great, Mum. You turned an empty shell of a house into a home, not to mention a belligerent and angry six-year-old who didn’t want a new stepmother, into a happy kid,’ Mac said as he reached over and gave her hand a quick squeeze.

  ‘You were never really belligerent, sweetheart.’

  ‘Yeah I was,’ said Mac. ‘And Jason might have been born a Prescott but when Dad adopted him be became a McKellan. Dad didn’t bring him up to run away from what was expected of him and not to do what’s right. There comes a time when we all have to take responsibility for our actions. The way I see it, Jase has never got to that point.’

  ‘I think sometimes that could be true and I don’t think Celine will change that. He’s always been wrapped up in himself and never really registered the needs of people around him. I don’t think he does it on purpose, it’s as if it just doesn’t occur to him. And Celine is pretty much the same,’ said Sarah. ‘That clearly doesn’t matter too much in the corporate world, but it’s different with family and friends.’

  Violet stood outside her front door double-checking she had everything she needed in her huge handbag. Wallet, sunglasses, tablet computer, tissues, perfume, lipstick and keys. Damn, she’d forgotten her phone again. She raced back inside and grabbed it off her desk, glancing up at the old wall clock. It was already 9.17 a.m. and she had to drive to Melbourne and back in time to pick up Holly from school. The things she’d hired from Tony were going to be delivered to McKellan’s Run, but there were still supplies she needed from other places, and the only way she was going to be totally sure of having them all was if she drove down to Melbourne herself.

  Throwing her phone in her bag she hurried out and pulled the front door shut behind her. She was halfway down the front steps when the worn wood suddenly gave way beneath her. Violet grabbed the handrail for support but it collapsed under her weight. She fell awkwardly to the side, her ankle twisted and the broken wood badly scratching her shin.

  It took her a second or two to gather herself. Her ankle throbbed, her shin stung and she was pretty sure her arm would be bruised from her tangle with the banister. Carefully extracting herself from the broken mess that had once been her front steps, she wiggled her toes and then gently rotated her ankle.

  ‘Ouch!’ The dull pain seemed to radiate and intensify.

  She frowned and sucked in a breath. As far as she could ascertain she was sore and bleeding but nothing was broken. She picked up her bag and, heart beating, checked her tablet. The screen hadn’t shattered, turning on immediately, thank goodness—if she’d broken her tablet it would have been an utter disaster.

  Looking up, an equal measure of dismay and anger shot through her as she considered the steps. Well fantastic, like my bank balance really needs this.

  ‘Ow, ow, damn it, ow!’ Violet muttered as she hobbled around to the back door. She’d have to find some bandages, and reassess her wardrobe and find some trousers to cover up her bloody leg.

  Mac slowed the motorbike as he approached the old stone cottage. Even from here it was clear that a dozen or so of his sheep had managed to get through to the wrong paddock. A tall gum tree had come down on the old fence, the force knocking over a couple of the fence posts and pushing down the wire, leaving a large gap just big enough for a mob of rambunctious sheep to escape through.

  He stopped the bike near the gnarled crabapple tree, told Razor to come, and walked over for a closer inspection. Besides cutting up the tree, he’d have to replace at least three of the posts and a section of the fence.

  He looked over at the original McKellan’s Run cottage, which had been the first home of Angus McKellan and his wife, Bridie. Angus McKellan had arrived in this area just over a hundred and fifty years ago and, from what Mac’s father had told him, Angus had been a young man with an innate sense of adventure. In 1854 he’d left everything he knew in the small village of Gillocky in the Scottish Highlands, for the chance of a new life half a world away. He’d caught a fast clipper from Portsmouth and after nearly four and half months of hell he’d arrived in Melbourne. By all accounts he’d made his way as fast as he could to get to the nearby goldfields. However, after a while he’d fallen in love with the local landscape and decided to try and make a go on the land instead of chasing gold.

  Angus worked hard, scratching out a living from the earth with a handful of chickens and a few sheep. But his life turned around when he met Bridie O’Hare. According to his journal, he’d quickly fallen in love with the beautiful black-haired Irish lass with her pretty green eyes and lilting accent. He promised her he’d do his best to build them a happy, comfortable life if only she’d have him.

  Bridie accepted and Angus spent the rest of his life honouring his promise. He’d started right here, where this little stream snaked through a gully and green gums towered overhead, building this little two-room stone cottage with his bare hands and rocks that he had hewn from the ground.

  Mac crossed his arms and leant against what was left of the garden wall, still gazing at the cottage, a thoughtful expression on his face. He, Jason and Dan had spent many happy days here as kids pretending it was their house. They’d even found an old bible one day in what would have been the ceiling. The roof had deteriorated even more since then and part of the north wall had recently collapsed, but it seemed a shame to let the whole cottage crumple to the ground. Maybe he should try and save it? He’d always enjoyed coming out to this spot. Perhaps it was just family nostalgia but there was a welcoming feeling to the place, despite how rundown it was. Somehow, bizarrely really, it always made him feel hopeful when he came here.

  Mac shook his head and frowned. It was crazy, but if things went well with the shearing and the weather, he decided he’d save Angus and Bridie’s cottage. After all, without them there would never have been a McKellan’s Run or a homestead.

  Mac made a mental note to ring Johnno and talk about the feasibility of restoring the old place when he had some time. Johnno might say it was a ridiculous idea but if anyone could help him turn it into something liveable, Johnno could. Meanwhile he better bring that mob of sheep in and get them penned so they were ready for shearing in the morning. Mac checked his battered watch. It was almost half past nine. Damn, where had that last hour gone?

  Whistling Razor over, he revved his motorbike, giving the cottage one more glance before he rode off towar
ds the main house. Despite all the stuff he still needed to do, he decided to take the scenic route back—well, that was what he liked to called it anyway. If he took the track to the left, it followed the creek all the way up to the far paddock. It had been a couple of days since he’d ridden that way and it would give him the chance to make sure the fences there were all okay.

  Mac stopped his bike at the crest of the incline for a minute just to take in the view. Below, a fast flowing creek wound its way through another gully. Mac never tired of the wildness and rugged beauty of this land.

  Following the main track, which veered away from the creek, he rode past the couple of acres he’d planted with oats. By the looks of things the crop was coming along nicely. Soon he’d be able to harvest it for hay. Most of it he’d keep to feed his sheep over winter but, weather permitting, there’d be a little bit left over to sell.

  The track swept parallel with the far paddock’s fence, which all seemed to be intact. As Mac rode along, a couple of kangaroos bounded up the hill heading towards a small clump of gums. A smile touched Mac’s lips as he watched them hop away.

  Chapter 8

  Mac let out a sharp whistle. ‘Razor, get around the back and get them in,’ he called, as he and three of the farmhands he’d hired used their motorbikes to encourage the flock of sheep towards the shearing shed.

  With a bark, Razor swung in an arc and herded the sheep towards the sheep pen.

  ‘That’s it, Razor. Get around, good boy!’

  The air was filled with the sound of bleating as the sheep scampered and jumped into the pen. Mac jumped off the bike and then in three quick strides walked to the gate. Pushing off the ground with one foot, he held on as the gate swung shut. The large metal latch clanked closed and Mac stood for a moment and looked at the sheep.

  Relief flooded through him as the sun warmed his back. Managing McKellan’s Run was hard work but every now and again there were moments when he got to see just what he’d achieved. This was one of those times. The majority of sheep had been rounded up and penned over the past three days, the fleece on their backs was of good quality and wool prices were up for the first time in several years. Now all he had to do was find the few stragglers that had escaped the initial round-up. Whistling for Razor, he headed down to the small billabong at the base of the north paddock.

  ‘What now, boss?’ Ben asked as he came and stood by Mac’s side.

  ‘Now, we grab a drink and a quick break before we go and pick up the last few that got away,’ said Mac, scratching Razor between the ears. ‘Good job, Razor, good boy.’

  ‘Sounds like a plan,’ said Ben. ‘I’ll tell the others and meet you at the house.’

  ‘Sure,’ said Mac with a nod, staring back at the sheep before running his gaze over the land—his land. He smiled. The sun was shining, the farm was doing well and Violet Beckett had come back into his life—he reckoned he had a lot to smile about.

  Okay, thought Violet, so she had to admit the day was shaping up to be much better than she’d expected. There hadn’t been any delays during her drive, she’d managed to pick up all the supplies she needed and a parking spot had miraculously appeared outside the café where she was meeting Lily for lunch.

  ‘What happened to you?’ said Lily as Violet reached down and gave her a hug.

  ‘I tangled with the front steps and lost. I’m fine though. Both Holly and I miss you so much,’ said Violet, before sitting down.

  She stared at Lily for a second. Anyone could tell they were sisters, there was a similarity to their features and the way they carried themselves. They both had hair that was a deep walnut-brown—though Lily had just had hers cut—and they both had the same dark-brown eyes that were said to have been inherited from their maternal grandmother. But unlike Violet, Lily had delectable curves and could pull off the girly look—even sexy—when she put her mind to it.

  ‘I’ve missed you both too,’ said Lily. ‘It’s just not the same here without you guys.’

  ‘Hey, I like what you’ve done with your hair,’ said Violet, aware that Lily was tearing up. ‘It gives you a bit of an edge.’

  ‘Do you think so?’ asked Lily.

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘I like it, but Pietro prefers it when it’s longer.’

  ‘Then Pietro is a fool because it looks fantastic.’

  Lily smiled as she looked towards the girl behind the counter. ‘Can we have a couple of cappuccinos? Thanks.’ She turned back to Violet, running her hand through her short brown hair. ‘So tell me everything. How’s Holly?’

  ‘Good, she’s settled into school really well and has some nice little friends,’ said Violet, fumbling in her bag before taking out two bright paintings. ‘She sent you these—this one’s Princess Lily in her carriage and this is Princess Violet and my prince standing in front of our castle.’

  Lily sat in silence for a few minutes as she studied the paintings, looking like she was ready to really burst into tears.

  ‘Thanks,’ Violet said to the waitress as the coffees arrived. ‘Hey Lily, are you alright?’

  ‘Yeah, I just really do miss you both,’ said Lily. ‘And seeing you now just makes me realise how lonely I’ve felt without you.’

  ‘Next time I come I’ll make sure it’s a weekend and bring Holly with me,’ said Violet as she stirred in a teaspoon of sugar into her cappuccino. ‘And I’ll try to get Skype set up soon. It’s just been so busy and I’ve been battling to stay afloat. My car decided to implode a while ago and I’m still paying off the repairs.’

  ‘I know what you mean,’ said Lily. ‘Fashion’s so badly paid, even when you’re at my level, and inner-city rents seem to get more exorbitant by the day.’

  ‘That reminds me, have you had any time to think about what you’re going to do with the shop at home?’ said Violet.

  ‘Not really. We’ve been working around the clock on the latest collection. I’ve hardly had time to breathe, let alone think about the shop. And I have to admit I’ve got a bit of a mental block about it too. I know you’ve moved on from how Grandad treated us, but I still can’t forgive him for what he put you through.’

  ‘It probably makes a difference having Holly. You become more of a pragmatist about stuff. And him leaving me the house has turned my life around. Makes me wonder what he was thinking in those last years before he died—whether he regretted what he did. Anyway, it seems a shame just to let it sit there and do nothing. I mean it could be earning you some money,’ Violet said.

  ‘I suppose. I have to admit I have thought about selling it,’ started Lily, taking a deep breath before continuing. ‘I know it might sound silly but it’s the last link we have to Dad and it seems wrong to sell it.’

  ‘Why not rent it out and give yourself a bit of time before you make any decision one way or the other?’ said Violet.

  ‘Yeah, I guess so. It sounds a bit romantic but I’d like to hand it down to another generation of Becketts.’

  ‘Careful, you’re beginning to sound like Grandad,’ said Violet, laughing.

  ‘God, I hope not,’ Lily said, smiling at her sister.

  ‘No, I understand and you’re right. Violet Falls is the last link we have with Dad. And despite it being tainted by the way Grandad carried on, there’s a pull there somehow and I don’t want to break it by selling the house either.’

  Lily nodded and was silent for a minute. When she looked up at Violet her eyes were overbright. ‘I still miss Mum and Dad after all these years. I know I was so young I hardly have any real memories, but even they’re fading and every now and then I get hit with this wave of sadness and longing. What frightens me the most is that sometimes I find it hard to remember Mum and Dad’s faces in crisp detail. It’s as if the pictures in my head are blurring.’

  Violet reached over the table and took her hand. ‘I know, sweetie. But they’d be so proud of you and what you’re accomplishing, just like I am.’

  Lily wiped her eyes. ‘Sorry.’

 
‘Nothing to be sorry about. I miss them too. So, what’s your plan?’ asked Violet.

  ‘I’ll come up as soon as I can to see you and Holly and we can go and have a look at the shop. I know you’ve been flat out so on the rare occasions I’ve given it any thought I haven’t wanted to bother you with checking out what needs doing to it if I did decide to rent it out.’

  ‘You know I’d have been glad to do it. But anyway, I’m happy to come with you when you check it out.’

  ‘Thanks,’ said Lily, her face brightening.

  ‘So how’s work?’ asked Violet. ‘And how’s Pietro? Is he still Melbourne’s very own up-and-coming fashion photographer?’

  ‘We’re fine, everything is the same as ever. He’s always working, he’s even been doing some overseas shoots lately, and I’ve been designing like mad. Oh, Violet, you should see this sample I made. It’s in a rich burnished coppery colour. And it’s silk; dark, subtle. I swear it’s the best dress I’ve ever made. I showed it to Sam, and she said it was good, really good and she’s going to show it to Edwina!’

  Violet smiled. Lily had only recently been promoted from junior designer to designer for Edwina Partell, one of Australia’s leading fashion houses, and Sam was her boss. This was a big deal for Lily—a big deal that could push her career ahead.

  ‘That’s fantastic, Lily. I’m so happy for you.’

  ‘Yeah, I just can’t believe it. What about you?’

  ‘Well, I have a new event to plan.’

  ‘That’s great. Is it for anyone I know?’ asked Lily, finishing up her coffee.

  Violet hesitated briefly before deciding not to say anything about Jason’s wedding. It’d only worry Lily. ‘Nah, there’s a lot of new people in Violet Falls these days,’ she said.

  Violet pulled to a halt in front of Mac’s house and switched off the engine. Sarah had wanted to see some of the finishing touches she’d chosen in Melbourne, so she’d agreed to meet her here. It had been a long day and her ankle was throbbing but she had to admit to a frisson of excitement about the possibility of seeing Mac.