But Boyd had never answered their calls or letters. He had never come to visit or asked them to visit him.
But he had never even tried.
"Boyd was a steadfast part of the community. His loss is our loss. He will be missed." The church choir started singing as Mark returned to the pew.
He paused briefly to shake Justin's hand. "If you need anything, just ask us. Everyone here knew and liked Boyd."
"Thank you," Justin said. "I appreciate that."
Another sermon was read and then four men, including Mark, hoisted the coffin off the table and walked slowly down the aisle. “Amazing Grace” played through the speakers, and Justin felt emotion rise within him.
A warm hand slipped into his and he turned to see Freya, the blonde daughter, beside him. She squeezed his hand and encouraged him to walk behind the coffin. Stepping out into the sunshine, he was grateful for the clean air after the thick atmosphere in the chapel. He watched as the casket was carefully loaded into the hearse.
"He's going to the crematorium," Freya whispered near his ear. "Do you want to go?"
Justin watched as the door was closed, and he could no longer see the shiny brown casket through the tinted glass window. "No. I said my goodbye years ago."
He turned away from the car, needing to focus on something else, anything other than the car taking his father's body away to be burnt.
He looked at Freya. The light streaming through the trees gave her an ethereal quality. As though seeing her for the first time, he was captivated by her beauty. The scattering of freckles across her nose. The warm brown of her eyes and the soft blonde of her hair.
"I'm sorry for your loss. All of it." She smiled at him, and something passed between them. Empathy perhaps, understanding.
"Thanks." For a long moment, they held each other’s gaze, and beneath the buzz of his nerves, he sensed another connection being made. Something stronger than empathy. An alliance of sorts, that together they would get through this.
Then the crowds gathered. By now, the whole congregation had discovered who he was and wanted to learn more about Boyd's son and whatever had happened to him. Freya squeezed his hand before letting go and disappearing into the throng of people.
"Will you be staying long?" Deborah Deslop asked Justin as they sipped tea on the terrace outside the church
For what felt like the hundredth time today, Justin smiled politely and declared he was only up for the funeral.
"What will happen to the farm?" Mr Deslop leaned in. He had introduced himself as the town's bank manager.
"I'm not sure. I have an appointment with Boyd's lawyer this afternoon." He glanced at his watch, noting he still had plenty of time before he would have to leave. He had spotted Webster's Law Firm on Maple Street as he had driven through the one-street town. He had been surprised to see so many people out and about, sitting at the trendy-looking cafes, drinking coffee and reading papers.
Mr Deslop pulled out his card from his jacket pocket and presented it to Justin. “Your father banked with us his entire life. My details are all there if you need anything handled.”
“Thank you.” Justin put the card in his pocket. Accounts would have to be closed and things sorted out, just as soon as he talked to Stephen Webster. Justin was hoping he could leave it all in the lawyer’s capable hands. He planned on heading back to the city tonight and being back at work tomorrow morning.
"What do you do for a crust?" Mr Deslop asked.
Justin drew in a breath, once more feigning brightness. "I'm a software developer."
"Oh. Do you work for a big company in Brisbane?" Mrs Deslop looked like she was memorising the conversation, no doubt so she could tell all her friends at bridge.
"I freelance. I just finished a project for a travel agency chain." Justin loved talking about his work, but people didn't usually understand the technical aspects involved.
A woman's melodic laughter rang out, and Justin lifted his head in the direction the sound came from. Freya was grinning widely, deep in conversation with some people he hadn't met.
His pulse quickened as he studied her profile.
"I saw that you met Freya Montgomery already," Mrs Deslop said. "She's around your age. She has a sister, and two cousins too."
"Yes, her mother introduced us earlier," he replied and drained his teacup, wishing it was coffee.
"She works on computers too." Mrs Deslop nodded, her eyes wide. "You two would have lots to talk about."
"Really?" He nodded, lips tight.
"She does all the marketing and business development for Emerald Hills," Mr Deslop said. "It's become quite the empire, thanks to her."
Justin raised his eyebrows. She is the one behind Emerald Hills? He had seen their catchy advertisements online. Freya couldn't be more than twenty-five, but he of all people knew that hard work and a keen eye could achieve great things—especially using today's technology and social media. In a world of Insta-fame and YouTube streaming, anyone could become a star, and almost anything could go viral.
Mrs Deslop caught Freya's eye and waved her over. Freya excused herself from the group and walked toward them. Justin watched as she smiled and nodded at various acquaintances along the way.
"Thanks for coming." Freya hugged the older woman and shook her husband's hand. "How are you?"
They exchanged pleasantries, all the while Justin watched her. She was pretty, really pretty.
Mrs Deslop placed a chubby hand on his shirt. "Justin has just been telling us about his job. He's a software developer."
Freya turned inquisitive eyes on him. "Really? I would be very interested in talking to you, if you don't mind."
"Sure." He gestured to the table laden with refreshments. "I was just going to get another one."
"Nice to see you," she said to the Deslops who smiled and waved them off.
Freya leaned in close to Justin, and he felt her breasts brush his arm. "I'm dying for a coffee."
The sigh escaped his lips before he could stop it. "Me too."
"Let's get all the good stuff before it’s gone," Freya said as they arrived at the table full of sweets and savouries. "Have you tried the carrot cake?"
"I haven't had a chance to eat anything yet."
"We can't let you go hungry. Mum and Greer spent hours cooking up this feast, so you have to at least try a taste."
Dutifully, he picked up a plate and loaded it with everything she pointed out, then watched as she poured two cups of coffee. He was just about to tell her to make his black when she lifted the milk jug.
"This milk is direct from Boyd's farm. It makes even instant coffee taste amazing." She poured it into the cups and stirred. "Let's go out the back. It's such a beautiful day, and I need some vitamin D." She carried the cups while he held the plate piled with food and followed her through a side-gate.
The day was warm despite being the middle of winter.
Freya led him to a bench seat under a huge tree. They sat separated only by the plate of food and their mugs of coffee.
"What a great spot," he said as he gazed down onto the town below.
Freya shifted closer to him and extended a long slender arm. "Do you see the supermarket?"
He inhaled her floral scent and looked where she pointed. "That big building?"
"That's it. They sell all sorts of local produce in there. Tourists come to Maleny just to shop there."
Justin noted the pride in her voice.
"Over there is the community centre.” She pointed across the street at an impressive two-storey building. “Lots of functions happen in there, including the dance school recitals, movie nights, and all the other events Maleny has on. There's always something going on."
"Have you always lived in Maleny?" He slid her a sideways glance.
"Sure have. I was born in the local hospital." She pointed in another direction where trees were heavily planted. "And I went to the local primary and high school. You can see the primary school, just up there."
He studied where she pointed and could just make out an oval and cluster of buildings. "If Mum hadn't left, that's where I would have gone to school." The words escaped him before he could stop them.
"Yep. You probably would have played soccer for the Maleny Rangers and worked at the supermarket in the holidays."
He frowned at her. "How did you know I played soccer?"
She laughed. "Most boys play either soccer or rugby, and you don’t look like a rugby player to me.”
Warmth spread through him. “Really? What else do I look like to you?”
She tapped a finger against her glossy lips and furrowed her brow. “You’re not a farm boy, so you couldn't fix a tractor. But you are smart. You would have gone to university in Brisbane and climbed the ranks quickly. Judging by that fancy suit, you probably earn a descent salary too."
He looked down at his black jacket and trousers. She was right, of course. How different his life would have been if he had stayed in the country. If, instead of spending his weekends in front of a computer, he had been on the farm learning about cows and machinery. Working with his hands and helping to produce a product that fed the nation.
"What's your story then, Freya Montgomery? Have you ever been to the big smoke?"
She threw him a wide smile, and he got the impression she never let anything bother her. "Actually, I studied business management at the University of Queensland at St Lucia for a year. Then I transferred to the University of The Sunshine Coast and changed to business marketing."
He gave her an apologetic look. She appeared too good to be true. "Are you married?"
"I'm not married, no." She blushed. It was adorable and did nothing to curb his burgeoning attraction.
A young boy came running over then, and threw himself at Freya.
"Nana gave me chocolate cake," he exclaimed and licked his lips. His mouth was smeared with chocolate, and Freya reached into her pocket and pulled out a handkerchief and started wiping it away.
Justin's heart sank. The child's resemblance to Freya was unmistakable and she had a tender, delicate way with him.
The boy looked up at Justin curiously. "Who are you?"
Freya bounced him on her knee. "This is Justin. He's Boyd's son."
"Sorry your dad died," the boy said before sliding off Freya's lap and giving Justin a quick hug. "He was nice."
Justin patted the boy's back, overcome by the affectionate gesture. "Thank you. What's your name?"
"Finn. I'm in grade one," he said, very seriously.
"Really? What's your favourite subject?"
Finn furrowed his brow and paused, deep in thought. "Lunch."
Freya laughed and pulled him over, so she could snuggle into the boy's neck. He giggled and squirmed before breaking free and running back around the house.
"Finn is my cousin’s son. His dad owns the local butchery."
Justin couldn't help the relief that swept through him. "So, he's not yours?"
She shook her head and smiled. "No. I'm so single I still live at home with my sister and parents."
His heart did a somersault and his adolescent crush took on a new level.
"You should come for dinner tonight. Mum's already cleared out Boyd's fridge."
"Thanks, but I'm going back to Brisbane after my appointment with the lawyer."
"How are you going to find time to go to the farm as well?"
"I'll organise someone to clean out Boyd's things. I don't plan on keeping the property."
Freya's face fell. "But you only just got here. You have to at least see the farm before you leave. It's where you were born." She turned pleading eyes on him. "Please, stay tonight and come to dinner."
He liked the way she didn't ask a lot of questions. She never referred to Boyd as his father either. It was a simple thing, but he appreciated it.
He gave a sigh of surrender. She made him feel warm and wanted with her interest and he hated to disappoint her. "Fine, okay. One night."
Her whole face lit up with her smile. "You won't regret it. Greer is a chef, and her pasta is amazing."
The delight on her face made his insides tumble, and he wondered if this was such a good idea. His life was in Brisbane. He didn't need any ties to Maleny. Not his father's property and certainly not this farm girl.
Even if she had managed to turn one of the worst days of his life into one of the best.
Chapter 3
Justin closed the file of paperwork in front of him and leaned back resolutely in his chair.
"So as you can see," the lawyer, Stephen Webster, said with a sombre expression, "the farm has potential. Boyd never wasted money and he always sought good advice. You are the only beneficiary, so the question now is will you keep it or get rid of it?"
In Justin's mind there was no choice. He didn't want to be a dairy farmer; he wouldn't know where to start. Maleny seemed a nice enough town to visit, maybe spend a long weekend, but he enjoyed the bustle of the city, the fine dining and plentiful entertainment. And his family was there. His mother, stepdad, brother and sister. "How quickly can we get it on the market?"
Boyd's lawyer was a plump man, nearing retirement age. He ran his hand over his bald freckled head. "I've already done some asking around and to be honest there's not much interest in a working dairy farm these days. Not when the price of milk is so low and the major supermarkets are keeping up this price war. Boyd had a good thing going with Emerald Hills. All his milk went to them." Stephen scratched his chin. "There are enough employees to keep it going as it is. I know the manager is a good man—you can trust him. Or there is the option to lease it out."
"Lease it out?" Justin leaned forward. "Do you mean the land?"
"No, the whole thing. Milking shed, stock, everything. A dairy that's already established will often take on leases for other properties. I can ask around, I'm sure we could find someone. The Montgomerys might even be interested."
It wasn't an ideal situation, but worth considering. "I guess I could lease it out until a buyer comes along. Ideally though, I'd rather sell it. Leasing could create other problems along the way, not to mention the tax implications."
"Yes, the government always wants their bit. I’ll look into the leasing and come back to you."
Justin rose and shook Stephen's hand. "I appreciate that, and you have all my contact details now."
"Of course, and again, my sincerest condolences."
"Before I go …" Justin paused. "Do you have a key to get into the house? I've decided to stay the night."
The older man raised his eyebrows before reaching into his desk drawer. He handed Justin a simple silver key. "Nina Montgomery has been keeping an eye on the place. The power is still on and it runs on tank water. You should be comfortable there."
"Thank you." Justin left the office and walked out onto the main street. It was after five now and the road had quietened down. The sun was lowering and bringing with it a chilly night breeze. Nevertheless, he decided to walk and clear his head before going to the farm.
He wandered down the wide footpath, noting the huge deciduous trees and quaint storefronts. As well as art galleries, cafés, and fashion stores, there was a children's playground, a bakery and even a barbershop with old-fashioned red and white striped poles out the front.
He passed the butcher’s shop, the old-time building with historic, rustic appeal, and wondered if that was where Finn's father worked.
He paused to study the display at a bookstore café. Country scenes adorned the book covers. He shoved his hands in his pockets. He could rarely walk past a bookstore without buying something, his love for literature so strong. His mother liked to boast that he had been able to read before he started school. Had his mother brought him here? Had they bought books from this shop?
It was closed now, so he decided to come by in the morning and order a coffee, then he could have a good look around while he waited.
He crossed the street and wandered back towards his car. The even
ing air revived him and the walking stretched out his tight muscles. Maleny had all the essential stores, and the larger cities of Maroochydore and Caloundra, where shopping centres and department stores flourished, were within an hour's drive down the winding range.
Deciding he better grab a toothbrush and toothpaste, since he had brought nothing with him for his impromptu overnight stay, he headed into the supermarket and picked up a basket.
The deli section Freya had mentioned did not disappoint. Sliced meats and antipasto were on full display, and his mouth watered at the array. The bakery section was just as enticing with all sorts of cakes and slices. Bread of varying shapes and sizes lined display shelves with a selection of fillings including fruit, nuts and seeds.
The colourful array of fruit and vegetables, especially the organic section, which was just as big, made him want to focus on eating better, healthier food. Living in the city, he often skipped meals or ate out, unless he was at his mum's house. She always insisted on cooking a homemade meal.
He put a banana and an apple in his basket, then found a toothbrush and toothpaste and headed towards the checkout. As he waited in line, he spied the display of coffee beans with the unfamiliar Maleny coffee logo on brown paper packaging. He collected a large bag and added it to his purchases. He knew it wouldn't be much but still felt good for contributing to the local economy. Maleny didn't seem that bad after all; no wonder it drew thousands of tourists every year.
The GPS system on his phone directed him out of town, and he was surprised how quickly the suburban sprawl turned to lush, green pastures and quiet country roads.
The white milk-can indicated the driveway he was to turn down. He slowed to take in every detail of Boyd's property. The winding dirt track skirted wood and wire fences. At one point, he drove over a flowing creek which jogged something in his memory, though he couldn't think what.
As the car climbed a small hill, he took one hand off the wheel and brushed it down his thigh. It was stupid to be nervous, but despite being the new owner of the property, he was. Would he feel Boyd's presence in the house? Would he learn something about the man who had always been a stranger?
The Dairy Farmer's Daughter Page 2