again, thanks to Byron’s ineptitude and Tom Williams’s thieving ways.’
‘There’s no chance of tracking Williams down?’
Randall shook his head. ‘The local constable doesn’t think so. He’s long gone, could be anywhere.’
‘The thieving bastard!’ Danny muttered with feeling, thumping one fist into his other open hand.
‘Byron suggested that we sell Drovers. Bill Walpole would buy it in an instant, he reckons.’ Randall threw the remark at Danny. ‘What do you think?’
Danny’s response was immediate. ‘No way! McLeans have had tough times before this. Remember Dad telling us how hard it was for Grandfather when he first came here? Clearing the land, building the original cottage they lived in till Dad built this place. Aborigines occasionally spearing stock, the creek flood that killed Dad’s brother Dougal, which upset their sister Helen so much that she married a British soldier and moved back to England. And the drought twenty years ago, when Dad almost lost everything.’ Danny’s chin went up proudly. ‘The McLeans don’t give up, no matter how tempting it might be to do so.’
Randall’s serious expression broke into a smile. That was what he’d wanted to hear. ‘While I was waiting for you to come home I mapped out a plan,’ he told Danny. ‘It’s going to be a challenge and we’ll have to work our arses off without hiring anyone to help. Come into the dining room.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Actually, there are no table or chairs there. Come into the kitchen and I’ll show you what I have in mind. And,’ he draped an arm around his shorter brother’s shoulders, ‘you might have some ideas that could help.’
‘Too right.’ Danny’s response was instantaneous. ‘I’m up to the challenge.’
CHAPTER SIX
Late March 1920
A my Carmichael sat in the garden of her father’s home, staring into the ornamental fishpond when she should have been trying to complete the watercolour of the garden that she had started over a week ago. A late-afternoon sun shone on the broad leaves of the hydrangea bush, giving it a beautiful, almost iridescent sheen. Unfortunately, her concentration was lacking. She should have felt relieved at what she’d just done, and in a way she was, but a sense of guilt remained at having decided not to see Miles Fairfax any more.
When she’d arrived in Adelaide on the train from Sydney and he had met her at the station, she had been instantly aware of a major shift in her emotions towards him. The years apart, her experiences, her spell of independence, and time to think about her life and what she wanted most in the world, had changed her irrevocably. Miles was a good, solid, hard-working man, but he wasn’t the man for Amy, though she was sure that many Adelaide women would consider him a catch. After all, he was reasonably attractive, dressed well, his family was ‘old money’ and he had a well-paid, responsible job at the Bank of Adelaide.
Still, all of that was not enough. She didn’t love him, and never would. She couldn’t make it happen, and it wasn’t fair to him to pretend that one day she might, when she knew deep in her heart that she wouldn’t. Not even to please Miles, or her father, who would love to see her settle down. Which she would do, when she was ready.
Telling Miles her decision on Friday night had caused Amy much concern and sadness—and anger, because he hadn’t taken the news well. He had been spiteful and sarcastic, even threatening, implying that he would tell all and sundry in their social circle that she had admitted to having an affair with a married British soldier, and because of that he no longer wanted to court her.
The love affair was nonsense, of course, but in churchy, straightlaced Adelaide some would believe him.
Her expression sober, Amy watched a goldfish swim to the pond’s surface, catch a small beetle that had fallen in and gulp the insect down. The next instant the fish was gone. Her gaze
‘There’s no chance of tracking Williams down?’
Randall shook his head. ‘The local constable doesn’t think so. He’s long gone, could be anywhere.’
‘The thieving bastard!’ Danny muttered with feeling, thumping one fist into his other open hand.
‘Byron suggested that we sell Drovers. Bill Walpole would buy it in an instant, he reckons.’ Randall threw the remark at Danny. ‘What do you think?’
Danny’s response was immediate. ‘No way! McLeans have had tough times before this. Remember Dad telling us how hard it was for Grandfather when he first came here? Clearing the land, building the original cottage they lived in till Dad built this place. Aborigines occasionally spearing stock, the creek flood that killed Dad’s brother Dougal, which upset their sister Helen so much that she married a British soldier and moved back to England. And the drought twenty years ago, when Dad almost lost everything.’ Danny’s chin went up proudly. ‘The McLeans don’t give up, no matter how tempting it might be to do so.’
Randall’s serious expression broke into a smile. That was what he’d wanted to hear. ‘While I was waiting for you to come home I mapped out a plan,’ he told Danny. ‘It’s going to be a challenge and we’ll have to work our arses off without hiring anyone to help. Come into the dining room.’ He thought for a moment. ‘Actually, there are no table or chairs there. Come into the kitchen and I’ll show you what I have in mind. And,’ he draped an arm around his shorter brother’s shoulders, ‘you might have some ideas that could help.’
‘Too right.’ Danny’s response was instantaneous. ‘I’m up to the challenge.’
CHAPTER SIX
Late March 1920
A my Carmichael sat in the garden of her father’s home, staring into the ornamental fishpond when she should have been trying to complete the watercolour of the garden that she had started over a week ago. A late-afternoon sun shone on the broad leaves of the hydrangea bush, giving it a beautiful, almost iridescent sheen. Unfortunately, her concentration was lacking. She should have felt relieved at what she’d just done, and in a way she was, but a sense of guilt remained at having decided not to see Miles Fairfax any more.
When she’d arrived in Adelaide on the train from Sydney and he had met her at the station, she had been instantly aware of a major shift in her emotions towards him. The years apart, her experiences, her spell of independence, and time to think about her life and what she wanted most in the world, had changed her irrevocably. Miles was a good, solid, hard-working man, but he wasn’t the man for Amy, though she was sure that many Adelaide women would consider him a catch. After all, he was reasonably attractive, dressed well, his family was ‘old money’ and he had a well-paid, responsible job at the Bank of Adelaide.
Still, all of that was not enough. She didn’t love him, and never would. She couldn’t make it happen, and it wasn’t fair to him to pretend that one day she might, when she knew deep in her heart that she wouldn’t. Not even to please Miles, or her father, who would love to see her settle down. Which she would do, when she was ready.
Telling Miles her decision on Friday night had caused Amy much concern and sadness—and anger, because he hadn’t taken the news well. He had been spiteful and sarcastic, even threatening, implying that he would tell all and sundry in their social circle that she had admitted to having an affair with a married British soldier, and because of that he no longer wanted to court her.
The love affair was nonsense, of course, but in churchy, straightlaced Adelaide some would believe him.
Her expression sober, Amy watched a goldfish swim to the pond’s surface, catch a small beetle that had fallen in and gulp the insect down. The next instant the fish was gone. Her gaze
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