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
She stood and pulled the sheet and blanket up around him as if he were her son. ‘I have left a bell by your bed. If you need help, just ring. I’m a light sleeper.’
She took the candle, closing the door softly behind her.
He lay in the dark, listening to the sounds of the night: the rhythmic stamp of the gold battery, distant music and drunken laughter and the chatter of unknown insects. The sounds of Maiden’s Creek. The start of a new life, he thought, as he drifted into an uneasy sleep.
Caleb woke to daylight and the uncomfortable feeling he was being watched. He ran a hand across his eyes and turned his head to the door. A boy leaned against the door jamb, regarding him with solemn eyes and a down-turned mouth.
‘You must be Danny,’ Caleb croaked.
The boy nodded.
‘Can you pass me a drink of water?’ Caleb indicated the jug on a rickety table beside the bed.
Water pinged into the metal pannikin and Danny held it out to him with a shaking hand. Caleb made an attempt to pull himself into an upright position without crying out but the pain must have shown on his face. The boy frowned.
‘I came to say I’m sorry, Mr Hunt,’ he said.
The water had been sitting too long but the tepid and sour-tasting liquid eased his parched throat. He held out the empty pannikin to Danny.
‘You’ve nothing to be sorry for. And you can call me Caleb. I don’t hold with such formality.’
Danny smiled. ‘Thank you, Mr … Caleb.’ His gaze shifted to the bulge of bandaging visible under the sheet that covered Caleb’s leg. ‘Does it hurt?’
Caleb considered the question. It hurt like hell, particularly as his leg had stiffened overnight, but he could sense that the boy needed reassurance not truth. ‘Nothing’s broken. Are you all right?’
The boy rubbed his knee. ‘I got a grazed knee,’ he said.
‘Shouldn’t you be at school?’
Danny’s eyes slid sideways. ‘Mama said I should have a day at home to rest.’
‘Did she? Kind of Mama.’
Danny’s mouth worked and he managed a small smile. ‘She wasn’t very cross.’
‘There was no need for her to be cross at all. It wasn’t your fault.’
‘She says I’m always in a dream. I like to make up stories in my head but when I try to explain to Mama, she says no good comes of dreaming.’
‘What does your father do? Is he a miner?’