“It’s in your pocket,” Flynn said. “You put it there when we left Anna’s.”

“Who is that?” her mother asked.

Keely dug in her pocket, ignoring her mother’s question. “Have you got a pen? Here is the address.”

“I’ve put the kettle on,” Euan said. “You’re in charge of making the women tea or coffee, Flynn. If you’ll all excuse me, I’m off to bed.”

Euan’s words startled Keely into action. She put a hand over the phone. “Not for me, thanks. I’ll finish this call in the bedroom.” She went to her room and closed the door on the sight of Flynn standing close to Kat.

Keely had momentarily forgotten about the young woman Flynn was obviously attached to. It had been a lovely evening and Keely had enjoyed the company of both Levallier men but the last part of the conversation at the table with Flynn had been more than enjoyable. For a moment, she’d felt a real lift of her spirits, the tingle of anticipation as Flynn had talked to her about the beads and given her his full attention.

“Are you there, Keely?”

She sighed. “Yes, Mum.” She tried to concentrate on what her mother was saying but she couldn’t help being aware of the rise and fall of voices murmuring gently in the next room.

Chapter 14

CHAPTER 14

A loud crack startled Keely from her sketch. She was sitting under the verandah, at the little table that had become her daytime haven. From this secluded vantage point, she could see some of the daily comings and goings from the distant sheds but she also used the table as her work area. She’d made several wine-bottle covers and some bracelets and now she was working on a sketch of the scene in front of her.

The crack came again and a dog barked. She stood up and crossed the yard to the fence. Further away to her right between the rows of vines stood a small man in a battered hat. Beyond him, stretching away over a more exposed ridge, were the vines that, since Euan’s tour, Keely knew were part of the cabernet franc plantation. She watched as the man lifted his arm in the air and flicked his wrist. The whip made another sharp crack and the sound ricocheted around them.

The man looked towards the river. It was a beautiful morning and a whisper of mist still hung over the water. He gave one more flick with the whip then turned and walked directly towards her, a brown kelpie trotting beside him.