The English Oak: Tullagulla Series, #2

By Heather Reyburn

She had nothing left to lose. At least that's what she thought.

 

Bronte Miller and her young daughter Madeline leave England and the only home they had ever known when they venture to Australia in search of a new life. A job as Governess on Tullagulla Station in the Queensland outback seems like a good place to start, however the heat, flies and long days of work bring unexpected challenges.

As Bronte and Madeline settle into life on Tullagulla, the property is threatened by an unexpected rural crime wave and its residents band together to assist the stock squad.

Then, just as a new relationship develops between Bronte and the local vet, a shocking secret is revealed and her life is once again turned upside down.

 

Will she find the happiness she so desperately wants? Or will the hardships all be for nothing?

 

• Language: English
• Publisher: Heather Reyburn
• Release date: Aug 1, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201497118

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

Shimmering heat haze, reminiscent of an inland sea, mesmerised her. Muttering obscenities, Bronte Miller slammed her foot on the brake, thrust the gear stick into reverse and shot backwards. She paused to read the battered signpost on the left-hand side of the road. It indicated she needed to turn right.

That’s confusing, she said and squeezed the accelerator. The old car jerked forward, making the turn as wisps of steam rose from beneath the bonnet.

Oh no! She stared at the temperature gauge, gasping at the arrow hovering on red. Steering the car to the side of the road, she switched off the ignition and slumped over the steering wheel. As the engine stilled, a loud hiss sounded.

Why do these things always happen to me? Furiously, she reached under the dash, fumbling until her fingers found the lever. The bonnet unlatched with a sharp tug and Bronte threw open the driver’s door, stepped onto the gravel road, and reeled as the furnace-hot air hit her. She strode to the front of the car, angrily kicking the tyre.

I should’ve asked that shifty salesman more damn questions when I bought you, you heap of junk.

Perspiration trickled down her face and back, evaporating as the sun scorched her pale Yorkshire skin. Her fingers probed for the release catch and she yelped. Snatching her hand away from the hot metal, she wrapped it in the bottom of her T-shirt and tried again. This time, the spring-loaded bonnet flew up, catching her painfully under the chin.

Ouch. Tears stung her eyes and she rubbed her face, overcome with weariness and despair. As steam and boiling water sprayed from a hole in what appeared to be a thick black hose, she jumped backwards, away from the gizzards of the old Holden.

Mum, Mum! a small voice cried out over the hiss of the escaping coolant.

I’m coming Maddy. Bronte ignored the spewing steam and wrenched open the back door, released the seatbelt and lifted her daughter into the fresh air. In the few minutes since turning off the engine, the air conditioning had also stilled, and the temperature inside the old vehicle had rocketed. Maddy’s face was beetroot red, her eyes distressed. Guilt gripped Bronte. Placing her gently in the shade of the car, she grasped the water bottle from the seat.

Here lovey, drink this. The child drank thirstily. Bronte splashed water onto her hand and wiped it across their faces, before swallowing the remnants from the bottle. After recovering their sun hats from the back seat, she plonked them on their heads and squatted next to the little girl.

The paddocks spread out in front of her, dotted with clumps of gum trees and unfamiliar scrubby bushes, and Bronte was gripped by a wave of despair.

Why did we come to this godforsaken place again? Oh yeah, that’s right. A new beginning? Huh, what was I thinking?

A ridge of grey and orange rock scarred the low hills in the distance and the strip of dirt road stretched into infinity on her left. As it had been almost every day since they had disembarked from the gruelling flight from London, the sky was blue and never ending.

Turning to her daughter, Bronte swallowed hard. Her innards ached with love for her little girl. Maddy’s curly dark hair formed a halo around her chubby face and a pair of bright eyes, glazed with tears, peered from under the big straw hat. She grizzled and raised a dirty thumb to her mouth, sucking briefly before plucking it out again, staring at it and screwing up her face.

Yuck! It’s dirty. Maddy said.

Bronte grunted and straightened her shoulders.

Now she was nearly five, Maddy only ever sucked her thumb if she was really tired or anxious about something. This was clearly one of those times.

Right, now what do I do? Bronte desperately tried to recollect the salesman’s advice, her excitement at the time of purchase having overridden her concentration on the detail.

If it ever breaks down out in the bush, always stay with the vehicle, no matter what, he’d said. But what next?

She rummaged in her bag for her mobile phone. As she held it up in the air and pointed it in every direction, frustration boiled inside her. Still no signal. So much for modern technology.

Bronte opened the car’s doors and windows and slid down to sit beside her daughter in the shade of the open door.

Someone will come along soon. We’ll just sit and wait. Muttering more quietly, she continued, This new job had better be worth it. Her thoughts flipped back to the last time she had waited on the side of the road for help. She had been with her mother. The cold, driving rain of the Yorkshire Moors was a dim universe away.

I’m hungry, Maddy whimpered.

Bronte searched in the foil-lined shopping bag on the back-seat floor. It had been ages since they’d stopped for lunch at the café in Goondiwindi, Gundy or whatever it was they called that town.

Apple or muesli bar, lovey?

Both.

Manners?

Please, Mum.

Good girl. Bronte pulled the towel from the back seat and spread it on the dirt. They sat quietly, while Maddy munched her snacks. Bronte’s own stomach was too churned up to face food.

Sitting in a semi-trance, she shifted occasionally to stay in the limited shade of the early afternoon sun, and checked her watch constantly. Maddy had fallen asleep, her hot, sticky body against hers.

Remember what he said – stay with the car.

Torn, a little voice in her head suggested she take Maddy by the hand and walk back to the main highway. How far was it though? Sixty kilometres? A hundred? Maybe they could flag a vehicle down. How long was it since they’d turned off the highway? An hour? Her mind was beginning to play tricks and she chided herself. Don’t be ridiculous. We’ll be fine.

She dozed in the scorching heat, while visions of home wove through her mind like a snake seeking refuge. Memories of damp and cold swirled together with the peace and serenity of the Yorkshire Moors in all their isolation and shades of mauve and green. She choked back a sob as consciousness returned and her dreams faded. The only view here was of the relentless hot sun and a glistening haze hanging over a parched landscape.

This sure isn’t Yorkshire, she whispered. Bronte’s mind replayed the final conversation she’d had with her mother.

They’d left Yorkshire on a bleak, sleeting day. Jet-lagged, lonely and frayed by nerves, Bronte struggled to excite either herself or Maddy as she dragged her around the sights of Brisbane.

Bronte smiled as she remembered the joy and amazement transforming her daughter’s face.

Mum. Look. The kangaroo’s eating out of my hand.

Their visit to Lone Pine Sanctuary had been the highlight of those first few days.

You’ll be right with this one, the salesman had said at the car yard. Parts are easy to get if anything goes wrong, and there’s no fancy stuff costing you extra money.

Well, he was right to begin with. There certainly wasn’t any fancy stuff, except perhaps the air-conditioning—and that was more of a necessity than a luxury. Consumed with doubt, Bronte took another look around the sunburnt scene in front of her and her sleeping daughter snuggled against her sweaty side.

So, here I am, Mum. Now what? Bronte whispered.

CHAPTER 2

Adeep rumble roused Bronte from her doze. Brushing the flies from her face, she carefully extricated herself from under her daughter’s sleeping form. Laying Maddy’s head gently on the rolled-up towel, she scrambled to her feet. A cloud of dust announced the approach of a vehicle. Stepping hesitantly on to the edge of the road, she prayed it would stop and, more to the point, be carrying someone who would help her.

Yes! It’s turning the corner—and it’s stopping.

The driver, a young woman, lowered the passenger window, and smiled widely. Her eyes remained camouflaged beneath a pair of large, round sunglasses.

Are you okay? Need help? The voice was kind and Bronte nodded.

The car broke down and it’s that hot, and, and… I don’t know what to do.

Neither spoke for a few seconds and it dawned on Bronte— the puzzled look on the woman’s face was probably due to Bronte’s unfamiliar accent.

Swiping at her face with the sleeve of her T-shirt, she swallowed hard and looked down at her feet. Her sneakers and bare legs were floured brown with dust. I must look a fright. She clutched at her hair, the dark curls tumbling out from under her hat while sweat ran down the sides of her face.

The car door opened, and the slight, attractive young woman walked around to the passenger side and touched Bronte gently on the shoulder. Handing her a clean tissue, she asked, Where are you headed?

We’ve come from Brisbane and I’m heading to Tullagulla. Only they don’t know we’re coming yet but we’d nowhere else to go so I’m hoping they don’t mind. She gabbled on, her broad Yorkshire accent strong as her words tripped over each other. I’ve a job on Tullagulla to go to. She paused, silently reprimanding herself for talking too fast.

Bronte? Are you Bronte Miller?

Aye. Her eyes widened momentarily, her forehead furrowing.

I’m Grace, and I’m the one who offered you the job. We weren’t expecting you until after New Year, but you’re here now so it doesn’t matter. Come on. Didn’t you say you had a young daughter?

Aye. I’ll just get her. She’s asleep. Almost crippled with relief, Bronte stumbled over to the mound beside the car and scooped up the little girl, setting her on her feet and dusting her down as she woke. Her shoulder-length hair was tangled and wild, her bright pink face streaked with dirt and sweat, accentuating two sky-blue eyes.

This is Madeline. But she prefers Maddy, don’t you love? She brushed the hair out of her daughter’s eyes.

Hello, Maddy. I’m Grace. We’re very excited that you’re coming to stay with us.

The rear window of Grace’s car lowered and a small voice called out, Mu-um, let me out.

Okay, Daniel. Hang on a minute. She swivelled back to Bronte. That’s my son, Daniel—running out of patience by the look of things. Can you get Maddy’s car seat out of your car? I’ll clear the space next to Daniel and we’ll pop it in there.

It took only a couple of minutes to switch the car seat and transfer Grace’s shopping into the rear section.

Don’t worry about your car. We’ll get the men to come and have a look at it tomorrow, Grace reassured Bronte.

With Bronte’s car locked up, and their belongings stowed into every spare nook and cranny in the LandCruiser, Grace put the vehicle into gear. She paused, and Bronte turned, watching the plume of dust drawing closer, realising Grace was waiting for a vehicle coming up behind them to go past. As the brown cloud morphed into a white Toyota ute, it slowed, stopping in the middle of the road parallel with their vehicle.

The window rolled down and the driver leaned forward, smiling.

Gidday, Grace. You okay?

Bronte relaxed. He and Grace obviously knew each other.

Hi, Alan. Yeah, we’re okay thanks. This is Bronte. She’s coming to stay with us at Tullagulla but has had some car problems, but it’s all good. She turned to Bronte and continued, This is our neighbour, Alan, and his passenger is? She tilted her head slightly, obviously waiting for Alan’s introduction.

Oh, this is Jared. Jared, Grace—and Bronte. Jared’s been with us for a few weeks now. Arrived just in time for the harvest, so good timing, ay?

Grace nodded to the young cowboy sitting in the passenger seat. Bronte stared at him a little too long. His big, black cowboy hat hid his hair, but there was no hiding his good looks … and that huge, sexy smile.

Gidday. His voice was deep and smooth.

Hi. Nice to meet you, Grace responded. Bronte nodded.

Righto. Well, if you’re sure you’re okay, we’ll head off and leave you to it. Alan was obviously anxious to get home too.

Thanks. Catch up with you at the BBQ on Boxing Day.

Sure will. The window rolled up as the ute accelerated away.

Grace turned to her passenger, grinning. We’ll just wait a minute for the worst of the dust to settle, and then we’ll get you home.

Relieved, Bronte returned the smile. He were not half bad looking, were he?

Yeah, perhaps. Beware of the handsome cowboy. Grace’s lips puckered and Bronte wondered if she had said too much.

What was that about?

Grace’s grip on the steering wheel loosened and she continued, Sorry if I seem a bit vague. Daniel and I’ve had a big day in town. We had to finish the Christmas shopping, stock up on enough food supplies to last us through the next couple of weeks and then we visited a friend, so now I’m running out of energy. Grace glanced at Bronte, grinning. We don’t often see unknown vehicles on this road, and almost never stationary. These days you hear all sorts of frightening stories of people being tricked into stopping. You know, some mad, machete-wielding idiot might just leap out of hiding from somewhere.

They both laughed.

I’m definitely not a mad, machete-wielding idiot, and I’m so sorry I didn’t ring. I intended to but didn’t realise there would be no phone service out here. We couldn’t find anywhere to stay. Everywhere I tried was booked out, even the campground, so I thought we’d come out to Tullagulla and see if we could start a bit earlier …

Of course. The local Picnic Races are on this weekend which would explain the lack of accommodation. We’ll work something out. You and Maddy can stay in the homestead with us for the moment. The cottage for you to live in isn’t quite finished yet—hopefully it’ll be ready after New Year. That’ll give us a couple of weeks to get to know one another.

Bronte smiled gratefully, tears of relief threatening to overflow again.

What encouraged you to apply for the position on Tullagulla? Grace inquired. It’s not exactly glamorous or particularly well-paid.

My mum was born in Australia and spent the first ten years of her life here. She always wanted me to come over and get to know the country, but, you know, stuff got in the way—like me getting pregnant, she finished lamely.

Grace continued encouragingly, Tell me more about yourself.

Before I had Maddy, I worked in childcare, and after she was born I didn’t work for a year. Then I got a contract as a teacher’s aide while a woman was on maternity leave, but that finished when she came back. So, I went back to work in a childcare centre again with my best friend Sophie but then she got a job in Cornwall and said she was never coming back to Yorkshire. She shrugged. So, I decided to come to Australia.

I’m glad you did. Do you have any other plans while you’re over here? Other than enjoying life on Tullagulla, I mean. Grace laughed then hesitated, as if aware she might be getting too nosey.

Not really. I kind of just want some stability for Maddy. When I saw your advertisement, I thought it sounded like it would be perfect for us, so I applied.

Grace nodded, smiling. Well, I’m sure you’ll love living out here—once you get used to the summer heat, that is.

Bronte was dubious. Thanks.

It’s perfect that Maddy is so close in age to Daniel. I hope they become good friends ’cause it can get a bit lonely out here sometimes. Grace glanced in the rear-vision mirror and smiled at the children. I’m guessing Maddy’s father is not on the scene?

You’re dead right about that.

At her sharp retort, Grace glanced at her. It’s pretty tough being a solo mum. I understand.

Aye. The opportunities are a bit limited. My mum raised me single-handed, but she had my grandparents to help her so she never had to stop work—except for the few weeks after I was born, I mean.

Look, Mum! A kangaroo. Bronte turned and smiled at her daughter’s high pitched shout. It’s hopping away! Maddy leaned forward, straining against her harness.

Bronte watched as the graceful animal effortlessly leapt the fence alongside the road and bounded towards the row of eucalypts in the distance.

I see it, lovey. It’s not as quiet as the ones we saw in Brisbane, is it? Maddy’s eyes were wide and bright and she nodded silently. She settled back into her seat and returned her gaze to the land outside her window.

Your advert said you needed someone to help with cooking, Bronte said, drawing her attention back to Grace. It’ll be nice to learn a few new dishes using some of the lovely fruit and vegetables I’ve seen here. I’ve always loved cooking.

I’m delighted to hear that Bronte. The outside work keeps me quite busy and I’m more of a cook to keep us alive, rather than a cook by choice. She giggled. You won’t have to fight me in that department.

Am I talking too much? Aye I am. Bronte bit her lip.

Not at all. That’s good to hear—especially about your interest in cooking.

They turned off the road and rumbled over the stock grid. Bronte sat in silence, absorbing the wide, flat paddock scattered with a myriad of different types of gum trees, sparse brown grasses and small groups of sheep, their fleeces brown with dust. Her stomach knot began to unravel as relief turned to hope. In the back seat, Daniel chatted excitedly.

Maddy, I’m nearly five, you know. After Christmas it’ll be my birthday and we’ll make a bulldozer birthday cake. See that big hill there? That’s the wall of our big dam. We can go swimming in there sometimes. But we have to remember the rule.

What is the rule, Daniel? Grace spoke a little sternly.

Never go there without an adult and at least one dog.

That’s right. We always go together, and we have to keep a look out for snakes, don’t we?

Snakes! Bronte stared at Grace, her eyes huge and filled with horror.

Don’t worry, Bronte. They’re more afraid of us than we are of them. You just have to stay alert and keep out of their path, particularly during the summer months. We rarely see any during winter.

Snakes, new produce to figure out and a broken-down car on the side of the road. Bronte didn’t know how much better things could get moving to the outback, but one thing was for sure—they definitely couldn’t get worse.

CHAPTER 3

Grace pulled