The Silver Creek
When USA Today bestselling author ALISSA CALLEN isn’t writing, she plays traffic controller to four children, three dogs, two horses and one renegade cow who believes the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. After a childhood spent chasing sheep on the family farm, Alissa has always been drawn to remote areas and small towns, even when residing overseas. She is partial to autumn colours, snowy peaks and historic homesteads and will drive hours to see an open garden. Once a teacher and a counsellor, she remains interested in the life journeys that people take. She draws inspiration from the countryside around her, whether it be the brown snake at her back door or the resilience of bush communities in times of drought or flood. Her books are characteristically heartwarming, authentic and character driven. Alissa lives on a small slice of rural Australia in central western NSW.
Also by Alissa Callen
The Long Paddock
The Red Dirt Road
The Round Yard
The Boundary Fence available February 2020
The Silver Creek
Alissa Callen
www.harlequinbooks.com.au
For Luke
Contents
Also by Alissa Callen
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Epilogue
Chapter One
On a miserable day there was only one thing that chilled Bethany Galloway more than being the daughter of a small-town matchmaker … having a broken heart.
She pulled her navy coat tight at her neck as the wind barrelled along Woodlea’s wide main street. Beside her the slender, bare branches of a plane tree swayed against the steel-hued sky. Wrapped around the solid trunk was a blanket made of vibrant wool and she stopped to touch the textured warmth of a knitted pink square.
A month ago the streetscape had been yarn-bombed in white to celebrate Cressy and Denham’s wedding but as winter tightened its hold the guerrilla knitters had draped the small town in swathes of colour. She lowered her arm and ignored the lump in her throat. Except the cosy and cheerful woollen creations didn’t make her feel like smiling. It was at Cressy and Denham’s wedding that her fairytale with Mac had ended. She’d finally understood how little of their relationship had been under their control.
She continued along the main street, her steps determined. She’d come to town to visit the grocery store, not to wallow. Tonight her mother would be at a meeting of yet another committee she chaired and Bethany wanted to cook her father a special dinner. As much as her mother had tried, it had been her quiet father’s unconditional support that had enabled her to survive the past weeks. His tight hugs, which had helped her weather teenage break-ups, still wielded the same healing power.
Wind again buffeted her and she sank her hands deep into her coat pockets. She’d soon be inside the warmth of the small town’s only grocery store. The beer-infused aroma of the Royal Arms had given way to the sweetness of the florist and gift shop and now all she could smell was the fresh bread from the bakery. While she once couldn’t wait to return to the bustling city streets of her boarding school days, the knowledge that she could walk the entire town in under ten minutes brought a sense of peace.
A car horn honked but she didn’t turn to look at the driver or take her hand out of her coat pocket to wave. The bush greeting hadn’t been for her. A long-held loneliness twisted inside. It didn’t matter that she’d been born in the red-brick hospital high on the hill or christened in the historic stone church; she didn’t belong. It also didn’t count that her mother was the town’s go-to person in a crisis or that the community would be lost without her—Edna Galloway was a woman best given a wide berth.
Bethany stopped to allow the door of the grocery store to slowly slide open. Her older brother Rodger had escaped the stigma associated with being Edna’s offspring. She hadn’t been so lucky. Even though she’d prided herself on not gossiping and on making sure she chose her words with care, she’d grown up under the assumption she’d turn out to be her mother’s daughter. The harder she’d fought to prove she wasn’t, the more she’d been labelled standoffish, moody and difficult.
Heated air bathed her and reminded her of where she was and why she was in town. She stepped into the store. It wasn’t her imagination that two cowgirls standing beside the fruit section stopped talking as she walked past to collect a red shopping basket. She assumed a detached expression. It shouldn’t still bother her that she felt like such an outsider in her hometown.
When she’d filled her basket, she went in search of her mother’s favourite breakfast tea instead of the chocolate she’d requested. Dr Fliss might be happy with Edna’s current cholesterol levels but it was a constant battle to keep her incorrigible mother away from the foods she shouldn’t eat.
The rumble of an unmistakable masculine voice caused her to freeze. The packet of tea she’d reached for slipped through her fingers and hit the floor with a dull thud. Not here. Not today.
Mouth dry, she bent to retrieve the yellow box. She’d hoped that whenever she saw Mac again the anguish of having to let him go wouldn’t still hold her hostage. Instead the pain that lanced through her was as raw as when she’d told him a month ago they couldn’t be together.
A pair of dusty boots walked towards her. As she straightened she realised the broad shoulders that stretched the red-and-navy rugby jersey didn’t belong to Mac. The tension twined around her temples loosened.
While many locals still confused Mac with his twin brother, she’d never made such a mistake. They were both blue-eyed with dark blond hair, but their differences were apparent in their expressions. Intense and serious, Mac’s smile was slow. Gregarious and charming, Finn’s wide grin was instant.
Finn stopped in front of her and didn’t hesitate to kiss her cheek. ‘Long time no see.’
As good as he looked and smelled when he’d leaned in close, it was only ever Mac who made her senses yearn. ‘It’s been a while.’
‘How’s things?’
She summoned a bright smile despite knowing that every morning the mirror reaffirmed how pale and drawn she had become. ‘Good, thanks.’
Finn nodded. The empathy in his eyes revealed he wasn’t so different to perceptive Mac after all. Their father, Clive, might be known around the district as a tough and inflexible man, but both his sons took after their kind and compassionate mother.
‘How’s … Mac?’ She tightened her hold on the basket. Finn’s stubble reminded her how much she’d loved running her fingers over the whiskered edge of his twin’s lean jaw.
‘Working.’
She looked away. The one-word answer would be an understatement. Even when his life was running to plan, focused and driven Mac was a workaholic.
She again met Finn’s steady stare. ‘Tell him I said hi.’
Her words slipped out low and quiet and she flinched at her weakness. They’d agreed to not contact each other so they’d have space to heal. Passing a message via his brother wouldn’t exactly be keeping to their agreement but she was powerless against the depth with which she missed him.
‘I will.’ Finn’s deep voice softened. She thought he was going to say something more but then he paused before asking, ‘How’s that pony of yours?’
The change in subject slowed her heightened heartbeat and gave her a chance to breathe again. ‘Skittles is great. He’s having so much fun over at Neve’s with the girls that I’m not sure he’ll ever want to leave.’
Finn chuckled. ‘As long as that taffy pony of Neve’s isn’t teaching him any bad habits.’
Neve’s precocious Bassie was as sassy as he was cute. ‘If he does, Tanner will sort them both out.
’
Her smile died. It seemed a lifetime ago that she’d bought a black Shetland pony for eligible bachelor Tanner to train. The plan had been for her mother to be so distracted by plotting to get Tanner and Bethany together she wouldn’t realise her daughter was in love with the son of a man she was embroiled in a family feud with. Not only had Edna known, but she and Clive had forged an alliance to push her and Mac together to reunite the once close families that had fallen out over a cattle trophy.
This time Bethany changed the subject. ‘Dad said you had a win on the weekend—congratulations.’
Both Mac and Finn played for the Woodlea Wallaroos and Finn particularly took his rugby seriously.
‘We did, against the Englewood Eagles so we’re back at the top of the table.’ The light in his eyes sobered. ‘I’m really sorry you and Mac didn’t work out. Let me know if there’s ever anything I can do.’
‘Please just make sure he’s okay.’
Despite her best efforts, her voice cracked. The man she wanted to spend forever with was hurting and burying himself in work because she was such a mess. She’d had no choice but to let him go. She’d never forgive herself if her insecurities held him back. Thanks to his father, Mac already had more than enough stress and drama. It wouldn’t have been fair to ask him to wait until she’d pulled herself together and reclaimed her life.
Giggling sounded as the two cowgirls rounded the aisle to sneak glances at Finn. He gave her a solemn look before nodding and turning towards the cowgirls with his trademark grin.
Bethany headed for the checkout. To her relief the teenage girl behind the counter didn’t appear to know who she was. The brunette’s animated chatter and friendliness wrapped around her, warming her far more than the shop’s balmy interior.
Once outside, she crossed the near empty main street. Today only a handful of people braved the gloomy weather. In the summer, dusty utes with sleeping kelpies on the back would be parked in the dappled shade of the plane trees, while on busy spring market days a free parking space would be as rare as a Woodlea winter snowfall.
She tugged the collar of her coat higher while she checked the photographs filling the window of the local real estate agency. As much as she enjoyed living on the family farm, if she was ever going to make sense of who she was she needed her independence. When her last exercise physiologist job in the city had ended she’d returned home for summer harvest, intending to hunt for another job in the new year. Instead weeks rolled into months, the weather cooled and she’d met Mac.
She lowered the heavy grocery bags to the ground before moving closer to look at an advertisement on the bottom right of the display. Despite feeling disconnected from the Woodlea community, she was certain there was no other place she wanted to be but here. She’d tried to find the missing pieces of herself in the city and hadn’t found a single one.
Not taking her attention from the description of the rental property, she slipped her phone free from her jeans pocket to snap a photo. The farm out on Dripping Rock Road had recently been sold and the workman’s cottage was not only available for rent, it was within her price range. Thanks to her brother managing their second property further out west she had a regular income from helping her father for however long she wanted to stay. She took another photo. As well as the weatherboard cottage, there was a round yard and stables for use. Perfect.
The wind’s icy fingers stole the heat from her skin but she was in no hurry to pick up her grocery bags and leave. For the first time since she’d ended things with Mac, the winter chill didn’t bite quite so hard. She stared at the advertisement, her chin lifting and hope stirring.
She was taking hold of her life with both hands and wasn’t letting go until she’d steered her own course.
*
Mac Barton flipped the driving lights of his Hilux to low beam as he caught the flicker of white from an oncoming vehicle. Apart from a fox dashing in front of him, he’d been the only one on the isolated back road. On a freezing night like this anyone with any sense would be at home tucked up near an open fire. He ignored the wrench of loss that hadn’t eased no matter how hard he worked. Until Bethany was back by his side, he’d never feel like he belonged anywhere again.
The outside chill breached the windscreen and he welcomed the seep of cold air across his knuckles where his hands gripped the steering wheel. He’d already turned down the ute heater as the warmth had dulled his lethargic senses. He fought a yawn. His eight-day shift at the gold mine didn’t usually leave him so fatigued. He’d driven the road between Orange and Woodlea countless times but tonight it seemed extra long.
The approaching car passed and darkness again pressed in around him. Thick cloud obliterated all pinpricks of starlight and he switched his driving lights back to high beam. As exhausted as he was, he had no time to rest in his six days off. The weeds in the wheat crop needed spraying and repairs made to the shearing shed so it would be ready for shearing in the spring. As much as his father refused to discuss any succession plan for Glenelg, he expected his two sons to work from dawn to dusk simply out of family duty. A fall in the cattle yards hadn’t tempered his father’s testy attitude or led to any appreciation or words of thanks. It was no wonder their workmen didn’t last long.
He slowed as swirls of low mist drifted across the road. By morning the paddocks and hills would be coated in a crisp white frost. Finn would have rugged the horses and the dogs would be fed and asleep in their kennels. When they’d finished school, he and Finn had moved into what had once been the farm manager’s house. Living under the same roof as their father hadn’t been an option. Now Mac was home, Finn would leave to work off-farm at the copper mine past Nyngan.
A yawn again threatened and Mac opened the driver’s side window. Freezing air blasted his face. When his mother called, as she always did when he’d finished a swing roster, he needed to sound awake. Tension ached in his jaw. He also had to give the impression that he had himself under control. His mother had enough to worry about without knowing that with every passing day his hope that Bethany would find her way back to him faded.
His mobile rang. He knew it would be his mother but for a split second a part of him believed it would be Bethany’s picture lighting up the screen. Heart heavy, he closed the window beside him. He’d thought he’d done the right thing by setting the woman he loved free. But each day hindsight took every opportunity to remind him what a fool he’d been.
He touched the button on the dashboard. ‘Hi, Mum.’
‘Hi, darling. Have you passed Strathallan?’ Concern muted his mother’s voice, which contained a lilt of her Welsh accent.
‘Not quite. I left late.’
‘I thought you would have.’
‘Heard from Dad?’
His mother’s short trip to Sydney to help a sick friend and to attend her own specialist appointments had stretched to four months. Even though her friend had recovered and his mother’s health had improved, she hadn’t returned home. His parents weren’t officially separated but if his father kept making his bull-at-the-gate choices, he’d lose the one person Mac actually believed he cared about.
‘Not recently and I’m not expecting to.’ A calm strength underpinned his mother’s reply. ‘He’s always been resistant to change.’
As much as his father’s fall and broken ribs and arm had terrified his mother, it hadn’t led to his father making any changes. At seventy-nine he continued to refuse to listen to medical advice to slow down. He also ignored his wife’s requests that he hand over the running of the farm to the boys so they could spend their twilight years doing the things they’d dreamed of.
Mac pressed his lips shut to silence the words that if he’d been apart from the woman he’d spent sixty years with, he wouldn’t be dragging his heels thinking things over. ‘I’ll see him before I head home.’
‘Thanks, darling. Don’t forget it’s his favourite TV show tonight.’
Just like she’d done all his life, his moth
er was making sure he didn’t take his father’s brusqueness personally. As indifferent as his father was towards him and Finn, their mother had more than filled the paternal void. She’d been their cheer squad on the rugby sidelines. She’d visited them every father’s day when they’d been away at their Sydney boarding school.
‘I won’t.’ He was so tired it suited him that he’d get no more than the usual two gruff words from his father.
‘Any plans for this weekend besides rugby?’
It was just a subtle change in her tone but Mac didn’t miss the anxiety edging his mother’s question. Since he and Bethany had broken up, his mother’s interest in his social life had trebled.
He forced a smile. He’d learned life’s lessons all too well from the years away at school when he’d missed the bush with an almost physical ache. Smiling when talking on the phone never failed to make his voice sound upbeat. ‘I’ll probably meet Tanner and the boys for a few quiet beers. Denham’s back from his honeymoon.’
‘I heard he and Cressy were home. At Strathallan yet?’
Out the window the white of a picket fence flanking a cattle ramp gleamed in the night. Amongst the trees towered an old homestead that was indistinguishable in the gloom. ‘Just going past now.’
‘Wonderful. You’ll soon be home. Love you and talk tomorrow.’
‘Will do. Love you too.’
The silence that filled the car was almost as oppressive as the surrounding darkness. But his mother’s call had achieved the desired effect. His brain buzzed with the adrenaline of overtiredness and there was zero chance of him falling asleep at the wheel.
By the time he slowed to drive into Glenelg he’d compiled tomorrow’s to-do list that would leave no opportunity for thinking or feeling. At the fork in the gravel driveway he veered left. Only a faint glow from the living room window of the rambling farmhouse indicated that his father was awake. He traded the warmth of his ute for the icy breath of the winter night air.