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
‘Do you know where I can get my hands on crutches? If I stay here all day, I am going to either melt or lose my mind with boredom.’
Mick nodded. ‘Give me ’alf an ’our.’
True to his word, the man returned with a stout stick. He hefted it in his hand. ‘Nice piece of mountain ash,’ he said. ‘Should see you right.’
Caleb grasped the stick and hauled himself to his feet. Crutches would have been better but he appreciated the thought. ‘It’ll do fine. Thanks for your help, Mick.’
Mick tipped his fingers to his hat. ‘I better be making tracks or the missus will cut off me contract. See you round.’
Caleb sank back onto the cot and considered the vexed task of getting dressed. He didn’t much care whether Netty Redley put him to work peeling vegetables, but he was not lying around like an invalid.
Six
Six
‘Afternoon, missus.’
Adelaide, deeply absorbed in sorting the mail, started, her hand going to her chest. ‘Mick! You gave me a fright. How did you get in?’
The shaggy bushman regarded her with his dark, deeply set eyes. ‘Door was open.’
Adelaide glanced at the post office door. It may have been unlocked but it had a bell set above to announce arriving customers. Mick had a habit of slipping past the bell.
‘I ’eard the mail was in. Got anything for me?’
‘Not yet. If you go to the kitchen, Netty will give you a cup of tea.’ She lifted the countertop to let him pass through. ‘Mick, I’m sorry, but there’s someone in your shed.’
Mick shrugged. ‘I ’eard you was lookin’ after the Yankee fellow. Seems like a decent sort.’
‘You’ve met him?’
‘Thought I should say g’day.’
‘Go and keep Netty company,’ Adelaide said, shooing him through the door as the bell rang.
She turned to face Mrs Russell, wife of the manager of the Bank of Australasia, and Mrs Jervis, wife of the manager of the Bank of Victoria. Their husbands may have been rivals in business, but these two ladies had formed an alliance and appointed themselves the moral arbiters of proper social conduct in Maiden’s Creek. This distinction existed entirely in their own minds, but they still had the ability to make life very unpleasant for any woman they felt fell outside what they deemed socially acceptable. Adelaide had the impression that they did not know where she fitted. On one hand, she was clearly a lady by birth and breeding, but on the other hand, she worked for a living in a job that should rightly have been filled by a man.
‘Good afternoon, ladies,’ Adelaide replied. ‘I have mail for you both.’ She passed several letters and small packages across the counter.
Mrs Russell turned the packets over with an irritating slowness. ‘How is Mr Hunt?’ she enquired, her casual tone belied by her bright eyes.