Chapters (53)
- Cover
- About Alison Stuart
- Also by Alison Stuart
- Title Page
- Dedication
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-One
- Twenty-Two
- Twenty-Three
- Twenty-Four
- Twenty-Five
- Twenty-Six
- Twenty-Seven
- Twenty-Eight
- Twenty-Nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-One
- Thirty-Two
- Thirty-Three
- Thirty-Four
- Thirty-Five
- Thirty-Six
- Thirty-Seven
- Thirty-Eight
- Thirty-Nine
- Forty
- Forty-One
- Forty-Two
- Forty-Three
- Forty-Four
- Author’s Note
- Acknowledgements
- Preview of The Goldminer's Sister
Netty made a shooing gesture with her hands. ‘Go. Get some fresh air. I can’t think of the last time you took a day off that wasn’t a Sunday. I’ll pack a picnic lunch.’
‘Netty Redley, you are a saint,’ Caleb said. ‘Adelaide, I’ll go organise the horses. If you promise to bring lunch, we’ll make a day of it.’ He turned at the door, giving her a smile. ‘I hope you will consider wearing your fetching riding ensemble?’
Faithful to his instructions, Adelaide and Danny were waiting on the post office’s verandah when Caleb returned with the horses: his own grey gelding, a bay mare that Sones assured Caleb belonged to Adelaide and a stocky pony for Danny.
His heart lifted at the sight of them. Adelaide had an arm around Danny’s shoulder and she clutched a wide-brimmed felt hat in the other hand. She wore the man’s trousers held up by a wide leather belt, well-polished riding boots and a white shirt, caught at the neck with a colourful scarf. A loose waistcoat completed the ensemble. No woman in fine silks and jewels could have looked any better, and he wondered why she persisted in wearing black for a husband ten years in the grave.
He cupped his hands and lifted her into the saddle and turned to Danny. The boy watched the pony with a frown on his face.
‘Something wrong? Sones assured me that old Ben here was a gentle animal.’
‘I’m not a very good rider,’ Danny said. ‘Amos has shown me some things and he has promised to teach me properly, but he never seems to have time.’
‘Time you learned,’ Caleb said. ‘Left foot in the stirrup and swing your leg up.’ He hoisted the boy into the saddle and adjusted the stirrups. ‘Now, grip with your knees and hold the reins like this. Not too tight and not too loose.’
Danny’s mouth quirked uncertainly.
‘You’ll be fine. We’re in no hurry.’
‘Where are we going?’
‘I thought we’d go up to Shenandoah. It’s a pretty place.’
‘For now,’ Adelaide cut in with a trace of acerbity.
They rode north past the blackened remains of the Murray house and turned up the Pretty Sally track. Caleb rode with Danny, giving the boy advice, and Danny’s confidence improved enough to break into a gentle trot.
They rode through the settlement, where a few of the locals greeted Adelaide by name, and left the horses at the head of the path down to the creek. Caleb unstrapped the bag containing lunch from his saddle and led the way down the steep track.