The Purple Hills (A Woodlea Novel, #4)

By Alissa Callen

The answer could be written in the stars... A standalone sweet and romantic novella from bestselling Australian author Alissa Callen.

Sibylla Elliott's return to small-town Woodlea will only be temporary. The audiologist will reassure herself that her father is doing well after his stroke and then be gone before her stepmother can wedge herself any further between them.

Single-dad Hugh Mason's entire world is his freckle-faced, space-obsessed son, Riley. When Hugh suffers a head injury, he has no Plan B, until Riley and his miniature pony come to his rescue, fetching their neighbour Sibylla. Glad to escape the tension in her family home, she moves to the next-door farm to help out the local horse chiropractor.

But when close quarters magnify the attraction between Sibylla and Hugh and refreshes past heartbreak, there is a price to pay. Will the wish of a motherless five-year-old as he stares at the night sky be enough to make Sibylla's plans permanent?

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins Publishers Australia
• Release date: Nov 1, 2018
• ISBN: 9781489269737

Alissa Callen

When USA Today bestselling author Alissa Callen isn't writing, she plays traffic controller to four children, three dogs, two horses and one renegade cow who believes the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. After a childhood spent chasing sheep on the family farm, Alissa has always been drawn to remote areas and small towns, even when residing overseas. She is partial to autumn colours, snowy peaks and historic homesteads and will drive hours to see an open garden. Once a teacher and a counsellor, she remains interested in the life journeys that people take. She draws inspiration from the countryside around her, whether it be the brown snake at her back door or the resilience of bush communities in times of drought or flood. Her books are characteristically heartwarming, authentic and character driven. Alissa lives on a small slice of rural Australia in central western NSW.  To find out more, visit Alissa on her website.  You can also follow Alissa on Facebook and Pinterest. 

Book preview

The Purple Hills

Alissa Callen

www.harlequinbooks.com.au

When USA Today bestselling author ALISSA CALLEN isn’t writing, she plays traffic controller to four children, three dogs, two horses and one renegade cow who believes the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. After a childhood spent chasing sheep on the family farm, Alissa has always been drawn to remote areas and small towns, even when residing overseas. She is partial to autumn colour, snowy peaks and historic homesteads and will drive hours to see an open garden. Once a teacher and a counsellor, she remains interested in the life journeys that people take. She draws inspiration from the countryside around her, whether it be the brown snake at her back door or the resilience of bush communities in times of drought or flood. Her books are characteristically heartwarming, authentic and character driven. Alissa lives on a small slice of rural Australia in central western NSW.

Also by Alissa Callen

The Long Paddock

The Red Dirt Road

The Round Yard available February 2019

For Luke

Contents

About the Author

Also by Alissa Callen

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Epilogue

Excerpt

Chapter One

Sibylla Elliot could have sworn a miniature pony ambled past the kitchen window.

She collected a teaspoon from the cutlery drawer before scanning the view beyond the oversized glass. Apart from the autumn wind swaying the leaves of the jacaranda tree and a magpie swooping down from the top of the pergola, nothing else moved. She made sure she didn’t look at the paved outdoor area that once had been her mother’s prized bed of fragrant mauve roses.

She added one spoonful of sugar instead of the usual two to her father’s favourite mug. Her stepmother might have erased as much as she could of her gentle mother’s presence but Bernice hadn’t tackled her father over his sugar consumption. That task had been left to Sibylla.

As she reached for the kettle, the click of small, hard hooves on concrete had her swing around. Abandoning her father’s mid-morning coffee, she headed for the next-door sitting room. A breath-misted pane of glass on the French doors failed to obscure the big pony eyes looking in at her. The door rattled when the pony’s knee bumped the glass as she pawed the ground.

‘Shhh Jelly Bean.’ Sibylla turned the glossy brass handle and stepped outside. ‘If Bernice sees you, she won’t be happy.’

The bay pony, with a white snip on her nose, turned to face her. Sibylla rubbed her warm neck. With her thick winter coat Jelly Bean resembled an adorable fluff ball. ‘What’s up? Where’s Riley?’

She looked left past the open garden gate to the track the pony had taken from the neighbouring farm. Usually her freckle-faced partner in crime wasn’t far behind. While some rural kids had puppies, five-year-old Riley had a tiny pony as his shadow. Smaller than a great dane, Sibylla was sure Jelly Bean thought of herself as more of a dog than a horse.

Heavy breaths sounded to her right before the soles of Riley’s running boots slapped against the concrete. Even with energetic Riley taking the shortcut, Jelly had worked out where he’d been going and had arrived first.

Sibylla’s smile slipped. This was no normal visit. Dried tears streaked Riley’s dusty cheeks. She bent to catch him as he threw himself against her. His small, wiry frame was as rigid as a corner fence post, his chest heaving.

Concern caused her arms to tighten around him. Pragmatic and cheerful, she’d never seen Riley upset, even when his eardrum had perforated or when his mother had failed to call last week for his birthday. ‘Where’s your dad, Riles?’

His words rushed out as a breathless torrent of anguish. ‘On the ground. Jelly bit his boot … he won’t wake up.’

‘Where? Near the house or in the paddock?’

‘Near the shed.’

Sibylla had her phone out of her jeans pocket even as she straightened. While she made the emergency call she kept her arm around Riley’s narrow shoulders.

‘Everything okay?’ her father’s voice rumbled from behind them.

Sibylla took her time to return her phone to her pocket. She couldn’t allow her father to glimpse how worried she was about Hugh. She also had to hide the fear that never left her whenever there was a farm accident. Her father’s recent stroke and vulnerability was why she’d temporarily left the coast to return to the family farm. She couldn’t remind him of all they’d lost on that long-ago summer day.

‘Yes.’ She took Riley’s hand. ‘Hugh’s somehow knocked himself out. The ambulance is on its way.’

Her father nodded as he shuffled from the room. The intense expression on his weathered face communicated how hard he was concentrating to move as quickly as he could.

She squeezed Riley’s fingers. ‘Dad’s gone to get the gator key and then we’ll check on your dad.’

When her father returned he was only halfway across the living room when he nodded. Sibylla lifted her hand to catch the key he threw across to her to save time. A bittersweet happiness briefly shouldered aside her worry. As strained as their relationship was, in a time of crisis they were still the team they’d been in her childhood.

‘Thanks,’ she said, voice quiet.

He gave her a barely-there smile before lowering himself into a nearby chair.

With Riley’s hand in hers, she headed for the side-by-side gator in the corrugated-iron shed. As fast as her heart beat and thoughts raced, she kept their pace even. Riley would be exhausted and she wanted her composure to reassure him. When she clicked in his seatbelt, he looked over his shoulder, his eyes teary.

She dropped a kiss on his tousled nutmeg-brown head. Even covered in red dirt he smelt like fresh, sun-dried cotton.

‘Jelly will be okay, she’ll be right behind us.’

When Riley nodded and sought Sibylla’s hand, she blinked to keep her own emotions at bay.

It had been only three weeks since she’d stopped at her neighbour’s front gate to chat to the boy and his pony who were waiting for the mail contractor. It had only taken three visits for motherless little Riley to sneak into the space she always made sure her small audiologist patients never accessed. Brave, curious and intellectually-gifted Riley was special. She turned on the gator before the thought could follow that his slow-smiling father was too.

As she’d predicted, the bay mini-pony cantered behind them as they made their way through the boundary gate between the two properties. But the closer she drove to Hillside the less she turned to see where Jelly was. Her attention fixed on the shiny roofline of the large shed beyond the green expanse of the back garden. She then focused on where Hugh’s white farm Hilux was parked in front of the end bay. As it was the weekend, the local horse chiropractor would have been busy doing farm work with his tan kelpie, Diesel.

Her fingers locked around the steering wheel as she searched the ground. But the only thing out of place was a fallen branch from the old gum that stood between the shed and the stables. There also didn’t look to be any ominous patches of blood darkening the dust.

Riley tugged at her arm. ‘Dad’s gone.’

She turned the gator towards the house. ‘He’ll be inside.’ She failed to keep the relief out of her words. ‘Look, there’s Diesel by the back door.’

It made no sense that Hugh being conscious should