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 fumbled in the pocket of her apron. ‘He said to give you this,’
Adelaide took the folded paper and rose. ‘I—’ she began, but the betraying tears were already welling in her throat.
In the privacy of her bedroom, she sat on her bed, turning the paper over in her hands, afraid of what it might say. Then, taking a deep breath, she unfolded it and stared, without seeing, at the hasty, impatient letters scrawled in pencil.
My dear Mrs Greaves …
Her heart fell. She hadn’t been Mrs Greaves last night. She had been Adelaide, his Adelaide.
My dear Mrs Greaves,
Please forgive my unfortunate behaviour last night. It was unworthy of me and a slight on you. I have no words to thank you for your kindness and friendship of the last weeks, at a time when I needed both. However, the time has come for me to move onto my claim at Shenandoah Creek and see what, if anything, can be found there. As for Mr Holdway, Maiden’s Creek has a competent doctor and there should be no further need for any interference from me.
My very best regards and thanks to young Danny and Miss Redley.
Caleb
She let her hand fall and the paper fluttered to the ground as Netty stuck her head around the door.
‘So, where’s he gone?’
‘Up to his claim at Pretty Sally.’ The unshed tears stuffed her nose and her words came out muffled with her disappointment—her grief—at his abandonment.
Netty entered the room, shutting the door behind her. She sat down beside Adelaide on the bed. ‘That’s not far. It’s not like he’s hightailed it to Sydney. Don’t fret for him.’
‘I’m not fretting. Just something in my eye.’
Netty frowned. ‘I know you too well, Adelaide,’ she said and put an arm around Adelaide’s waist, drawing her into her embrace.
Adelaide rested her shoulder on Netty’s dependable shoulder as she had done all those years ago and, through her tears, related the bare details of their unexpected tryst.
Netty snorted. ‘Men! He’ll be back.’
‘Why would you think that?’ Adelaide thrust the cold, hard little note at her friend.
Netty read it and shrugged. ‘I’ve eyes in my head. I’ve seen the way you look at each other when you think the other can’t see,’ she said. ‘He just needs time to sort his thoughts out, I wager. You mark my words.’
Fifteen
Fifteen
8 January 1872
Adelaide nearly missed the path that led to Shenandoah Creek. She slithered down the winding track, arriving at a clearing beside the creek hot and breathless. She paused to catch her breath, scanning the mine working for any sign of Caleb. The flap of a canvas tent had been tied back, revealing that it had been pitched hard against what looked to be a rough mine adit.