McKellan's Run

by Nicole Hurley-Moore

  The problem about being back in town was Violet had to deal with the ghosts. Some of the memories were pleasant but some just snuck up and bowled her over with their viciousness. Ever since she’d stepped foot through the front door of her new, old house she’d been having to deal with a score of memories she’d rather forget. Most of them centred round her grandfather.

  Her thoughts danced away from her, she tried to rein them in but they twirled down a road she never wanted to walk down again.

  Her grandfather had been a disappointed, sad and bitter man. The sadness Violet could understand because she felt the same hard immovable lump of hurt and pain deep inside her, having lost her parents in a car crash that also robbed her grandparents of their only child—Lily and Violet’s father.

  Until that time Lily and Violet had enjoyed a wonderfully happy life in Melbourne. After their parents’ death, Violet had tried to be strong for Lily’s sake, when they were moved to live with their grandparents in Violet Falls. Grandma Stella had been the buffer between the girls and Silas and for the first couple of years, life was bearable. However, after their grandmother’s health started to fade, their grandfather went into his rants more often.

  ‘We used to own this whole valley, did you know that?’ he’d say, time after time. ‘The Becketts were the most successful farmers in the area and Sunrise Reach was the richest spread.

  ‘It all started when a young Robert Beckett arrived from England. He came from a small village right up near the Scottish border . . .’

  It was pointless for Violet to protest as he droned on.

  ‘But our fortune changed when your great-great-grandmother, Violet Beckett, was drowned in the falls. She was swept away and all the family luck went with her.’

  ‘They never found her body. Might she have just run away?’

  ‘No, she perished in the fast-moving waters. There had been a lot of rain and the river was swollen, she wouldn’t have had a chance,’ he said, before adding, ‘it was all the McKellans’ fault. Bit by bit they stole, bought and tricked us out of our land until there was nothing left. They have brought ruin onto us and one day they will pay.’

  Violet remained silent. It was useless to point out it had actually been a Beckett ancestor who had lost almost half the land in an ill-fated poker game. Or that her great-great-grandfather was more interested in the bottle and had a knack of investing in dodgy get-rich-quick schemes that had taken the rest.

  ‘I swear to you, Violet, the McKellans will never take anything else of ours again. They may own the town but it will be a cold day in hell before any of them step foot in this house. I know those McKellan kids go to your school but you’re to stay away from them! Do you hear me?’

  It had come as a surprise when Violet actually met the McKellan boys. From all the stories her grandfather had told her she’d expected they’d be monsters. Instead they were two of the most sigh-worthy boys she’d ever seen.

  ‘Did you hear me, Violet? Promise me you’ll stay away from those boys.’

  ‘Yes, Grandad. I promise.’

  Violet got up and walked over to the window, rolling her shoulders to try and ease their tightness as she tried to break free of the emotions the memories evoked. She felt just a little bit guilty. Perhaps deep down she really was a bad person after all. She’d always tried to meet her obligations and keep her word, but she’d defied the promise her grandfather had extracted from her when she was sixteen at the kitchen table.

  She’d never been able to stay away from the McKellan boys—not then and not now.

  The sky was only beginning to lighten as Mac walked into the courtyard with a mug of coffee in hand. He suppressed a shiver as the chilled air still held a touch of frost. The cold pinpricked his face and made its way under his shirt collar and around the back of his neck. He rearranged his jacket and pulled it a little closer before taking a gulp of the hot coffee to ward it off. In the distance the first chorus of birdsong began to fill the surrounding hills.

  Mac had been reliving kissing Violet over and over again in his brain. It was an image he couldn’t let go of. He closed his eyes for a second and recalled the feel of her soft body as she pressed against him. For an instant he almost caught her flowery scent and not only how she’d returned his kiss but how she’d plundered his mouth.

  She’d wanted him just as badly as he wanted her.

  His first instinct was to go and sweep her off her feet and carry her to the nearest church or registry office and marry her. Oh, he wanted her, and wanted her to be his wife. But he didn’t want to spook her. As much as he wanted to stampede ahead, with all that had happened in the last month he knew Violet needed some time.

  And then there was Holly.

  Mac knew now that Holly was Jason’s child but he hadn’t broached the subject with Violet yet. He was hoping she’d tell him what exactly had gone on all those years ago but so far, she’d remained silent.

  He wandered through to the small wrought-iron gate that led to the rose garden. The first rays of sun were falling from the pink-tinged sky, lighting up the flowers. A smile tugged at the corners of Mac’s mouth as he saw the beauty around him. He could almost imagine Holly running between the rose bushes wearing her colourful fairy wings.

  When it all came down to it, Jason had turned his back on Violet, and Mac wanted her and Holly more than anything. He wanted to love them, protect them and make a family. As far as he was concerned as soon as he could get Violet to agree to be his wife, from that moment on Holly would be his daughter.

  He didn’t know how Jason would feel about it but then he didn’t really care. Jason had already had his chance and he’d screwed it up big time.

  Besides, for Mac it was more than just putting an old wrong to right. He needed Violet and Holly to make him feel whole.

  Chapter 16

  Violet walked into the great room, pulling her tablet and tape measure out of her bag. She didn’t have much time but she wanted to check her measurements to make sure all the tables would fit into her floor plan. She walked over to a small table partially hidden by a large ornamental screen and had just dumped her handbag on it when a voice drifted through the house.

  ‘Hi, Dad . . . Yes, Dad . . . Yes, we’re still at McKellan’s Run . . . I know, Dad, I said I know how important it is,’ she heard Celine say.

  Celine was back and staying at the Run until the wedding. After only one night she had refused to ever stay again at Jason’s cabin. Apparently between the wildlife, the rustic conditions and the possibility of her and Jason being murdered by some psychotic hillbilly (Mac’s words) she had begged to stay somewhere more civilized.

  Violet stepped closer to the embroidered silk screen, not knowing what to do. Should she make her presence known or just hide until Celine had left?

  ‘Don’t worry; I think I’ve come across a way to get the funds you need.’

  Violet frowned.

  Celine’s heels clicked across the floor closer to the entrance. Violet hunkered down behind the screen.

  ‘I have to think of the best way to spin it and use it to our advantage,’ Celine said as she opened the door and walked out into the courtyard. ‘I’ve had this information drop into my lap. I’m sure I could at least get a little leverage out of it . . . Um . . . Yes . . . It’s sound. So, have you managed to sell the Noosa flats? Oh . . . okay, well keep me posted.’

  Violet waited until Celine’s voice became fainter as she walked outside into the garden before she stepped out from behind the screen.

  What the hell was that all about? Celine was obviously up to something but what could it be?

  Violet placed a bowl of cereal in front of Holly and dropped a quick kiss on the top of her head.

  ‘There you go.’

  ‘Thanks, Mummy.’

  Violet checked her watch. ‘We’re going to have to hurry, love.’

  ‘Mummy . . .’

  Violet rounded the kitchen bench and grabbed her coffee. ‘Yes, sweetheart?’
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  ‘Can Mac be my daddy?’

  Violet spluttered her mouthful of coffee. Where the hell had that come from? Picking up the nearest tea towel she dabbed at her indigo blue cardigan.

  ‘Why would you say that, Holly?’

  Holly shrugged her shoulders and stared into her cereal bowl. ‘I don’t know. It’s just, well, he really, really likes you, I can tell . . .’

  Violet walked over to the table and sat down. She’d have preferred not to have a conversation like this at 8.15 a.m. just before she had to head out to McKellan’s Run.

  ‘Come on, Holly. Tell me.’ she said, smiling.

  ‘Amber and Kylie were talking about their daddies. And they asked me about mine.’

  ‘And what did you say?’

  Holly picked up her juice and had a sip. ‘I said that I didn’t have one.’

  ‘Ah.’

  ‘Amber and Kylie said I should get one. And I thought Mac would be good because he’s nice and I like him, and he’s funny,’ said Holly as she scooped up a spoonful of cornflakes.

  ‘Anything else?’ asked Violet.

  ‘Well, he does have kittens,’ Holly answered with a grin.

  Mac came through the front door as soon as Violet pulled up at the house and walked over to see them. Holly immediately asked if she could go and see the kittens and led them both towards the shed, skipping along the path and doing a twirl by the open door. ‘Come on, Mummy!’ she called.

  ‘Alright, we’re coming as fast as we can, Holly,’ Violet said with a laugh.

  As they walked into the old shed, Mac’s hand lay on the small of Violet’s back. It was comforting and yet disturbing at the same time. His simple touch made Violet jittery but in a good way.

  Thin shafts of sunlight shone through the high windows as Violet’s boots echoed across the old wooden floor and the air smelt of dust and straw.

  ‘You don’t use this much?’

  ‘No, I mostly use the new shed down there,’ he said as he pointed out the door. ‘This used to be the original shed. It’s mainly used for storage now.’

  Holly’s eyes lit up when she saw the kittens.

  ‘This could be trouble,’ Violet whispered to Mac as they walked forward.

  ‘Nah, I already thought Holly would want one.’

  ‘You planned this?’ said Violet, leaning against the wall and watching her daughter play with them. Two of them were dark tabby like their mother, whereas the third was tortoiseshell. They’d lost some of their wobbliness and become bold. The tortoiseshell kitten sniffed Holly’s hand. Holly giggled and looked over her shoulder at Violet, grinning.

  ‘Aw, come on Violet every kid needs at least one pet,’ said Mac softly.

  Violet shook her head and stared at him. ‘Oh my God, you really did plan this.’

  ‘Well, what could I do? Holly asked if I was going to keep them all to myself or, hang on let me get her exact words right, “Do you think . . .? Is it alright . . . for me to have one?” I mean, it would just be plain selfish if I kept them all for myself.’

  Holly was now waving a piece of straw in front of the tortoiseshell kitten and it was readying itself to pounce. It wiggled its butt before it launched itself at the straw.

  ‘Mummy look. Isn’t it cute?’ said Holly, laughing.

  ‘Yes, it is,’ said Violet, sighing. Adorably cute, drat it, she thought. She’d been set up well and truly here and she knew it.

  Violet looked at Mac and saw amusement in his eyes. ‘You knew this would happen, didn’t you?’

  Mac shrugged his wide shoulders. ‘Kind of. So it’s okay?’

  ‘Have they got names yet Mac?’ Holly called out as she picked up the tortoiseshell kitten and gave it a cuddle.

  ‘Not really, I hadn’t thought about it. I suppose we could call them Stripy, Blotchy and Grey. What do you think?’

  Violet leant towards him and whispered, ‘I don’t think you should be allowed to choose names.’

  ‘Why not, I’m great at it.’

  ‘Seriously? Stripy, Blotchy, Grey, Mud and Razor. I rest my case.’

  Mac edged towards her and Violet could feel the heat from his body as he leant down and whispered in her ear. ‘Okay, if that’s how you feel. I promise you can name our children.’

  Her stomach seemed to flip and contract at the same time. Heat flooded into her cheeks until they burnt.

  ‘The things you say, Mac McKellan. You shouldn’t joke around like that. You know how people gossip in this town.’

  ‘Me, joking?’ His warm breath fanned her ear and a tingle ran through her. ‘Why, Ms Beckett—I think you’re blushing.’

  ‘Mac?’ called Holly, and Mac instantly pulled away from Violet.

  ‘Yes, Miss Fairy?’

  Holly giggled again. ‘I’m not a fairy today. I’m not wearing my wings.’

  ‘You always look like a fairy to me.’

  ‘Mac, can we name them something else?’ Holly shook her head. ‘I don’t think your names are pretty enough.’

  Mac gave a sigh to match Violet’s earlier one. ‘Everyone’s a critic around here. Name them whatever you like, Holly. I don’t mind.’

  ‘Truly? I can name them?’ she asked, her expression incredulous.

  ‘Yeah and while you’re doing that you’d better decide which one you’d like to keep,’ said Mac, squatting down and adding in a not-so-quiet whisper. ‘I think I’ve almost convinced your mum to agree.’

  Holly’s eyes widened as she looked first at Mac and then at Violet. ‘Can I, Mummy? Can I really keep one?’

  Violet smiled. Somehow she’d known Holly getting a kitten was a fait accompli before they’d even walked into the shed.

  ‘Yes, sweetie, you can have a kitten. As long as you remember it’s a lot of responsibility. You have to look after it.’

  ‘I will. Promise! I’m going to have this one, I think he already likes me,’ said Holly as she held the tortoiseshell kitten to her chest. ‘Can he come home with us now?’

  ‘Not quite yet, fairy,’ said Mac, smiling. ‘They have to stay with their mummy a bit longer.’

  ‘Okay, Mac, but I promise to take good care of him. I really will.’

  ‘I know you will, sweetheart,’ he said as he leant over and ruffled her hair.

  Violet frowned and checked her watch after a knock sounded on her front door. It was a little after nine-thirty in the evening. She put down her book and pushed herself off the bed. Things had been so busy lately she’d promised herself a lazy evening of reading in bed with a cup of tea and some chocolate. She tightened her dressing gown around her and walked down the hall hoping to God there was nothing wrong with Lily.

  Flicking on the outside light, she peered through the peep hole. Her heart thudded. Mac was standing on her porch. Quickly she unlocked and opened the door.

  ‘Hi.’

  Mac looked a little sheepish as he produced a bunch of roses from behind his back. ‘I could lie and say I just happened to be driving past and accidentally found these on the way but somehow I don’t think you’d believe me.’

  ‘No, maybe not,’ said Violet, suppressing a smile as she leaned against the doorway.

  ‘They’re from the garden. Don’t tell Mum,’ he said, handing her the bouquet.

  ‘Thank you, they’re beautiful,’ said Violet. ‘Did you want to come in?’

  Mac shook his head. ‘No, I just wanted to give you the flowers.’

  ‘Well, thanks—’ said Violet before Mac suddenly stepped forward and swept her into his arms, pulling her close. Dipping his head, his lips sought out hers. Feeling Mac’s taut body against hers, Violet let go of the bouquet, which thudded onto the bare boards of the verandah. She put her arms around his shoulders and clung on. He made her quiver and that long-forgotten heat took hold and began to burn within her.

  She gave a gasp of disappointment as Mac pulled away from her.

  ‘Night, Violet, I’ll see you tomorrow,’ he said with a grin.

  ‘You’re going?�
� said Violet.

  ‘Yep. Have a good night, sweetheart,’ he said as he walked down the stairs to his car.

  ‘But . . .’ stuttered Violet.

  ‘See ya,’ Mac called out as he slid into his ute and, without so much as looking back at her, turned on the engine and backed down the drive.

  Violet stooped down and picked up the flowers. She held them up to her face and breathed in their scent as she watched Mac’s headlights disappear down the road. Walking back inside, she closed the door and wandered down the corridor and into the kitchen in search of a vase. After riffling through the bottom cupboard, Violet found an old cut-glass vase that had once belonged to her grandmother. She filled it with water and started the task of arranging the blooms.

  Mac’s kiss had left her unsettled and she suddenly felt wound up and disconcerted. She could still feel his lips against hers and the warmth from where his hand had held her back.

  Why had he taken off like that, wondered Violet as she placed the stems, one by one, in the vase. What man arrives on your doorstep, gives you flowers, kisses you and then disappears into the night with hardly a word?

  Charlie McKellan, that’s who.

  Violet jumped.

  ‘Ouch,’ she muttered as a thorn snagged her finger. A bright bead of blood formed on its tip. ‘Damn it.’

  Violet plunged the rest of the roses into the vase and set it on the kitchen table, before heading back to her bedroom and flopping down on the bed. Taking a deep breath she picked up her discarded book and started to read. Her eyes slid over four paragraphs before she realised she wasn’t taking in anything. She was seeing the words on the page but they weren’t getting into her brain because it was filled with Mac and his damn sexy lips and wide shoulders.

  She tossed the book aside in disgust.