Emerald Springs

Fleur McDonald

• Publisher: Allen & Unwin
• Year: 2017
• Print ISBN: 9781760292539
• eBook ISBN: 9781925575897
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: Literature General
• Index: Literature

After finishing university, Amelia Bennett returns to her home town. Determined to lose her old reputation for being scatty, she works hard to prove herself as the treasurer of the local rodeo committee. Flushed with triumph on the evening of the best rodeo in the town's history, Amelia is driving the bags of cash into town when she becomes the victim of a terrifying smash and grab. Injured and distraught after her ordeal, she's even more devastated when she finds out that she and her boyfriend Paul are in the frame for the crime. To prove her innocence and that of the man she loves, Amelia must convince a sceptical detective that her account of what happened does add up and that he must help her track down the real culprits... With its cracker plot, feisty heroine and engaging love story, Emerald Springs will have you reading well into the night.

Chapter 1

Two months earlier

Gus thumped the table with his fist, trying to get everyone’s attention. The rodeo committee members were standing around having a chat, making cups of tea and coffee, and grabbing at the biscuits that his wife, Pip, had made.

It’s like pulling teeth, he thought wearily, then yelled, ‘Come on, you lot, let’s get this meeting underway so we can all get home.’

The gathering that settled in front of him, with much rattling of cups and spoons, was a sea of greying hair, dirty hats, denim jeans and coloured shirts, calloused hands and sun-reddened, deeply lined faces. Amelia Bennett, in her mid-twenties, was the only committee member under forty, and she was the first in years.

Well, that wasn’t surprising. Agricultural areas were dying out. There were easier lives to be had and many parents sent their kids away from home: apart from anything else, there were no secondary schools out Torrica way. Few of the kids returned, and most were more interested in attending the rodeo nights than in helping to organise them. That wasn’t surprising either—the local show was just about non-existent because no one was prepared to take it on. And when a rare youngster did show up at the committee, they weren’t given anything to do because they wouldn’t do it the way the oldies wanted.

But, Gus thought with an inkling of pride, this crew hadn’t frightened Amelia away. Then he looked for her wavy dark brown hair and frowned. Every head was sprouting strands of grey—Amelia wasn’t there. He suppressed a sigh; she’d probably forgotten again. Hopefully she was just running late.

‘Okay,’ he said, ‘I’m calling this meeting of the Torrica Rodeo Committee to order.’ He shuffled the agenda papers and looked across at the secretary. ‘Cappa, you want to read the minutes from the last meeting?’

Cappa, with his vein-webbed nose and bushy brows, cleared his throat and stood, pushing his hat back. In his methodical drawl, he went through the minutes, then asked for a seconder. Fiona, her silver hair tightly curled from the day’s visit to the hairdresser, put up her hand. Gus hid a smirk. You could count on her to second everything. Pip reckoned Fiona just liked to see her name in print.

‘Right, new business,’ Gus said before there was another outbreak of voices. ‘I guess you all know that Ruby has had to resign because of her cancer treatments?’

There were nods and murmurings. Pip moved to send Ruby a card and some flowers, and everyone agreed right away—even Jim Green, who wasn’t always the easiest bloke to deal with. Their sense of community and friendship was so strong, Gus thought. If only there were some younger people here, it would be perfect.

‘Right-o then,’ he said, when the banter had settled down, ‘we need a new treasurer. Anyone want the job?’

The room went silent. No one made eye contact.

‘Come on, someone has to take it on.’

Everyone was staring at their hands or the floor.

All right, Gus thought, it’s now or never. ‘What about Amelia Bennett?’

‘Good one!’ said Jim Green with a smirk, then saw Gus’s expression. ‘Oh no, you can’t be serious. She’s much too flighty.’ He reddened, head swivelling from side to side. He’d clearly just realised that Amelia might be in the room. ‘Where is she? Not here? Well, that’s a good reason to get her to do the job,’ he finished sarcastically.

Right from the moment Amelia walked into the farmhouse, she knew that Paul had something important to say. The kitchen table, usually bare, had an embroidered tablecloth thrown across it. Two places were set with pristine blue-and-white Willow pattern china and engraved cutlery she’d never seen before. Velvet red roses—just like the ones her grandma used to grow at her family’s farm, Granite Ridge—were on the bench in a big old coffee jar from the seventies. There’d be an orange lid lying around somewhere.

‘Hey,’ Amelia said, smiling at Paul and leaning in for a kiss. His gorgeous eyes, blue flecked with gold, seemed darker than usual. ‘This looks impressive!’

As his fingers rested on her cheek and he looked down at her face, Paul didn’t quite meet her gaze. She couldn’t work out if the news was going to be good or bad, but he was clearly steeling himself.

‘You want to eat or talk first?’ he asked. ‘I’ve got some steak to cook up on the barbie and a salad to toss. Won’t take long—’

‘Talk first.’

‘All right.’ He stepped away from her and took a breath. ‘The trouble is—and I know this sounds corny—I can’t get you out of my mind. I really can’t.’

She gave a playful laugh and raised her eyebrows suggestively. ‘That’s not a bad thing.’

‘Listen, I’m serious,’ he pleaded. ‘I don’t want to let you get away.’

‘Get away?’ She eyed him severely. ‘I’m not one of your dogs that you chain on the back of the ute.’

‘Shit. I’m stuffing it up.’ Red-faced, he looked at the floor. Then he raised his head and met her eyes with an intensity Amelia had never seen before. ‘I want to ask you to marry me, Milly.’

Her heartbeat sped up, an involuntary smile spreading across her face. Though they’d been going out for a little over a year and things were going well, she hadn’t seen this coming.

‘But I don’t have anything,’ Paul continued. ‘I can’t afford a ring. This place isn’t a house—it’s a bloody shack.’ He swept his arm around, gesturing to the kitchen cupboards without doors, the fridge with more rust stains than white enamel, the woodstove that needed a tonne of kero to get started, the peeling paint . . . all signs of his late father’s neglect. ‘I couldn’t expect you to live here, share it with the mice and cockroaches. I’m up to my eyes in debt and I can’t afford to fix anything.’

‘Honey—’

‘Let me finish now or I’ll never be able to say this again.’ Paul took her hands and pumped them up and down, as though trying to release his frustration. ‘I’ve got nothing to offer. Dad left it all in such a mess it’s going to take me years to get back on track. By then, you’ll have had enough of waiting.’

Warmth rushed over Amelia as she looked at his deeply tanned face, the dark blue eyes. The anguish there was clear, but she didn’t know how to make it go away.

‘Oh,’ was all she managed.

Paul let her go and walked to the kitchen door, open to let in a cool breeze. There was no flyscreen, another thing the place needed. Looking over his shoulder, Amelia could see the moon rising, its soft light touching the land. She tried to organise her thoughts while the silence stretched out around them and grew uncomfortable.

The house was crumbling, there were no two ways about that. Wind whistled through the gaps around the windows in winter. Paul had to boil hot water on the stove for the dishes and the toilet was outside. Amelia made a point of going to the loo before she arrived and straight after she left.

Paul’s father, Old Brian Barnes, had certainly left him in an awkward situation when he’d died. It was a miracle Paul had been able to convince the bank not to hold a mortgagee sale. All the time Amelia had known him, he’d been working his backside off just to make ends meet.

She walked over to him and put her hand on his shoulder. When he turned around, she stared into his face. His eyes were filled with concern and his handsome features were strained.

‘You’re not going to lose me,’ she said and smiled. ‘Idiot.’

He went still as he looked at her.

‘It doesn’t matter,’ she whispered. ‘We’ll make it work somehow. I don’t need a ring or a flash house. You’ve got me wrong if you think I want all of that stuff. I just need you.’

He stared at her, disbelieving.

‘True,’ she affirmed. ‘Of course, if you’re going to be speechless every time something significant happens . . .’

He blushed and grinned, then pulled her to him. He didn’t kiss her, just held her close. ‘So, you’ll marry me?’

She gave a muffled laugh against his shoulder. ‘Well, we have to get an indoor toilet before I move in. I’ll take that over an engagement ring any day!’

Paul chuckled. ‘I think that’s fair. But there’ll be a ring, I promise. One day, there’ll be a ring.’

‘Hmm, never thought you were so romantic!’ She let him go, laughing.

He pulled her back and kissed her. ‘I didn’t either,’ he admitted. He smiled down at her, then said, ‘So, you want to wait before we get officially engaged, or tell everyone now?’

‘Let’s keep it between us for the time being. Though I’m not into long engagements. And . . .’ She twirled around. ‘How about we make some plans? A lick of paint here, a bit of no-more-gaps there . . .’ She was smiling, but then she stopped at the look on his face. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Milly, you don’t get it. Hopefully in the next few months I’ll be able to get that toilet in, but there’s absolutely no money right now. Not even enough for a sack of cement.’

‘Doesn’t mean I can’t pay for things.’

‘No way, Amelia. No way.’ Paul shook his head firmly. ‘I’m the provider. I’ll make a home for you. You’re not going to spend your money on this joint.’

What? She frowned. ‘Don’t be ridiculous—we don’t live in the Dark Ages. I’ve got money set aside and if I’m going to live here, then what does it matter if I put some of it into the house? After all, we’ll get to be together quicker. And don’t pull all that macho “I’m the bloke” bullshit with me! You know I’m not a little woman.’

He took a breath. ‘Milly, I’m serious. It’s not a matter of me being stubborn, it’s . . . it’s a matter of pride. Look, I had no say in how Dad ran this place into the ground. I had to stand by and watch what he did. I need to get this house right for you, for me, for us. I have to do it myself.’ He looked at her, his eyes begging her to understand. ‘Don’t worry, though. I’ll make it work.’

Amelia stared at him for a long moment. In some ways, he was right: he needed to fix up his childhood home for his own self-respect. She also knew that when he was like this, he couldn’t be swayed overnight.

‘Okay then,’ she said lightly. She reckoned she’d be able to wear him down eventually, at least on a few things.

Gus was trying hard not to lose his temper. Bloody hell, these old bludgers could be so stubborn! ‘We need to face facts,’ he said. ‘No one here wants to take on the job and we need a treasurer. It’s time we let a younger person have a go. We’re not gonna be here forever, you know.’ Gus sat back and crossed his arms.

The room erupted.

‘I reckon that’s a really bad idea!’

‘She’s a nice girl, but . . .’

‘What about the time she lost little Henry Marshall?’

Suddenly people who couldn’t remember where they were last week were able to recall Amelia’s stuff-ups from years ago.

‘Well, boys and girls, the simple fact is that no one else is puttin’ their hand up.’

‘I think she’d be good at it,’ Pip said firmly. All heads turned to her. ‘Sure, she can be a bit flighty, but she has a kind heart and a big one. You saw the sort of passion she brought to her first meeting, all her dreams and hopes to make this year’s the biggest and best rodeo we’ve had for a long time. She started that Facepage, or whatever you call it, and—’

‘Well, why isn’t she here now?’ Jim cut in. ‘She send her apologies?’

A few people nodded their heads.

‘No, she didn’t, but we’ve all been guilty of that,’ Gus said. ‘Won’t give her life because of it.’

‘I think it’s a good idea, too,’ Fiona said quietly.

‘Do you?’ snapped Kev Hubble, Jim’s best mate. ‘Well, when the till won’t balance you can put the money in to fix it.’

‘Enough!’ Gus banged his fist down on the table. ‘Kev, th...

Table of contents

• COVER PAGE
• TITLE PAGE
• COPYRIGHT PAGE
• CONTENTS
• PROLOGUE
• CHAPTER 1
• CHAPTER 2
• CHAPTER 3
• CHAPTER 4
• CHAPTER 5
• CHAPTER 6
• CHAPTER 7
• CHAPTER 8
• CHAPTER 9
• CHAPTER 10
• CHAPTER 11
• CHAPTER 12
• CHAPTER 13
• CHAPTER 14
• CHAPTER 15
• CHAPTER 16
• CHAPTER 17
• CHAPTER 18
• CHAPTER 19
• CHAPTER 20
• CHAPTER 21
• CHAPTER 22
• CHAPTER 23
• CHAPTER 24
• CHAPTER 25
• CHAPTER 26
• CHAPTER 27
• CHAPTER 28
• CHAPTER 29
• CHAPTER 30
• CHAPTER 31
• CHAPTER 32
• CHAPTER 33
• CHAPTER 34
• CHAPTER 35
• CHAPTER 36
• CHAPTER 37
• EPILOGUE
• ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
• PREVIEW: INDIGO STORM - CHAPTER 1
• PREVIEW: INDIGO STORM - CHAPTER 2