The McCalister Legacy

by Nicole Hurley-Moore

‘Yeah, we did that on the weekend. Anyway, I’d better crack on—I’m going to paint the bedrooms,’ Berry said as she started to edge away. She liked Dan and he was very good at his job, but he was also a bit of a talker. If she stayed there much longer, she was sure he’d start regaling her with stories about his rambunctious kids, and if that happened there was a good chance that most of the morning would slip by.

  She managed to excuse herself and headed to her old bedroom, where a large tin of paint, a drop sheet and several rollers and brushes were stacked in a corner waiting for her. Berry prised the can of paint open and stood back to contemplate the colour. She’d chosen white for pretty much the entire house. Perhaps it was a bit boring, but she’d only been thinking about brightening the place up. Now that they were keeping the house, maybe she could afford to be a little more adventurous. Sitting back on her heels for a moment, she toyed with the idea of going and buying some different paint, but the thought was fleeting. She’d already bought this, so she’d better use it—boring or not. Maybe she could shake things up a bit in the lounge room and paint a feature wall?

  Decision made, Berry rolled up her sleeves and reached for the nearest paintbrush.

  By eleven o’clock, Berry had managed to get the first coat up on one wall and was beginning to cut in around the window. It had been a fairly successful morning and she was pleased with her progress, helped along by the music pumped out by the contractors in the kitchen, the mix of eighties and new music floating into the rest of the house.

  Berry dipped the brush into the white paint and started to hum along with the radio when she heard someone clear their voice behind her. Turning around, she saw Nate standing in the doorway. He was wearing a blue plaid shirt with jeans and the type of smile that made her heart skip a beat.

  ‘Hey, what are you doing here?’ Berry asked as she put the brush down.

  ‘I had a couple of hours spare and I thought you might need a hand,’ Nate answered, his smile broadening. ‘I know the contractors are doing the kitchen but I figured you wouldn’t have anyone to help you with the painting—at least that’s what you said the other day. So, do you want some company?’

  As Berry stared at him, a swarm of butterflies took flight in her belly. Trying to pull herself back together, she dropped her gaze and started dipping the brush into the paint. ‘Well, that would be great if you can spare the time,’ she answered with what she hoped was a nonchalant tone. She glanced back up at him just in time to see the corner of his mouth curve up, and something about it made the room suddenly a little too warm.

  ‘You can start over there, if you want,’ Berry said, pointing to the adjoining wall.

  Nate looked at the wall and then turned back to her. ‘Hmm, how about I start here instead and work my way back to you?’

  Damn.

  ‘Sure, if you want,’ Berry said as she turned back to the window. The room seemed a little smaller with Nate in it and Berry couldn’t work out if that was a good or a bad thing. She tried to ignore his movements but she tracked him with her peripheral vision all the same.

  He grabbed a brush and stood next to her and she did her best to concentrate on not dripping paint all over the place. He was too close, or perhaps she was just too aware of him.

  ‘I hear that you’ve decided to keep the place,’ Nate said.

  Berry stopped painting and looked at him. ‘How did you hear that? I mean, yes—but I haven’t told anyone except Andrea.’

  ‘Oh, Andrea doesn’t gossip,’ Nate assured her.

  ‘Then how did you …’

  Nate tilted his head towards the door. ‘Dan told me when I arrived.’

  ‘Oh.’

  ‘Did you fail to realise that you’ve hired one of the town’s biggest gossips?’

  ‘No. I mean … yeah, I guess I did,’ Berry said.

  ‘Well, there you go. It’ll be all over town by tonight,’ Nate said as he glanced at her and grinned.

  ‘Seriously—how is that anyone’s business but mine?’

  ‘Oh, it’s not malicious. It’s just that Dan likes to talk … to anyone.’ Nate leaned over to dip his brush into the paint tray she was holding. A jolt rippled through her, but as she gave him a fleeting sideways glance she was relieved to see that he didn’t seem to notice.

  ‘I’m glad you’re keeping it,’ Nate said quietly.

  Berry stopped painting for a moment. ‘So am I.’

  ‘I guess it will give you an excuse to keep coming back to Harlington,’ Nate said as he turned and fixed his gaze on her. ‘That’s good.’

  For a second Berry found it hard to pull her eyes away from his. ‘Yes, it is.’

  ‘Miss McCalister, I was hoping to have a word with you.’ Laurie Worth was striding towards her.

  ‘Hello, I’m a little pressed for time at the moment. As you can see I’ve just come home,’ Berry said as she tried to sidestep him and keep walking. Unfortunately, she wasn’t quick enough and he managed to block her path.

  ‘Really, I only need a moment,’ he said quickly. ‘I heard that you’ve decided not to sell—that can’t be right, can it?’

  ‘Actually, it isn’t really any of your concern,’ Berry said. ‘But that’s correct. My family and I have decided to keep Stone Gully Farm, at least for the time being.’

  ‘But surely that’s not what you want. Why would you want to keep a place up here? Harlington is hardly a bustling metropolis.’

  Berry took another step to get by him but he mirrored the movement. ‘You’re right, it’s a quiet, sleepy little town, which makes it the perfect spot for a holiday house. I’m sure we could all do with a place where we can recharge our batteries,’ Berry said. ‘Now if you’ll excuse me I have to—’

  ‘I’ll be willing to make you an offer—a substantial one,’ he countered. ‘Why don’t we go inside, or better still let’s go to my office.’

  Berry shook her head. ‘No thanks. I appreciate your offer, but as I said, we’re not selling. Goodbye Mr Worth.’ She moved to the right but as he shadowed her move, she quickly changed direction and slipped past him through the front door and closed it behind her. She stood quietly for a second before Andrea’s footsteps distracted her.

  ‘Oh, you’re back. I’m so sorry that I couldn’t get rid of him,’ she said with a smile as Darby trotted next to her.

  ‘There’s something about that man I don’t like,’ Berry said.

  Andrea looked a little shocked. ‘Who—Mr Chester? I always thought he was nice.’

  Berry frowned. ‘No, I’m talking about Laurie Worth. He was waiting for me when I arrived.’

  ‘Oh, I agree with you on that,’ Andrea said as she peered through the leadlight window. ‘I didn’t realise he was out there. Maybe I should have set Darby on him.’

  Berry grinned and patted Darby on the head. ‘Darby’s got more taste, don’t you, fella. He wouldn’t want anything to do with him. So, what about Mr Chester?’

  ‘He’s waiting for you in the lounge. I think he wants to make an offer on Stone Gully Farm. I told him that you’d decided not to sell, but he was adamant that he wanted to talk to you,’ Andrea explained.

  ‘Damn, all I wanted was a cup of tea and a hot shower,’ Berry said as she looked down at her paint-splattered clothes. ‘Nate said this would happen.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘That my contractor would gossip about us not selling,’ Berry explained.

  ‘Well, it may have spread quicker because Dan has a big mouth, but it would have circulated sooner or later.’

  ‘Yeah, I know.’

  ‘Listen, you go and talk to Mr Chester and I’ll go and put the kettle on.’

  Berry nodded. ‘Okay, good idea—well, the kettle bit anyway,’ she said as she took a step towards the lounge. ‘Wish me luck.’

  ‘You’ll be fine, just be firm,’ Andrea said as she headed towards the kitchen with Darby by her side.

  Berry waited for Andrea and Darby to disappear before she fixed a smile ont
o her face and walked into the lounge.

  ‘Mr Chester, did you want to speak to me?’

  A man in his sixties stood up and stretched out his hand. ‘Miss McCalister, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I hope that Harlington has welcomed you with open arms.’

  ‘Thank you, yes, everyone has been lovely. Now, what can I do for you?’

  ‘Oh, you’re direct—I like that. Well, I’m here to make you an offer on Stone Gully,’ he said with a bright smile. ‘I assumed that you would want to go back to your life and put the past firmly behind you.’

  ‘That’s very kind of you, but my family and I have decided that we’re going to keep the property. You see, it’s our family home and our only link to the past,’ Berry said. She saw that he was about to interrupt so she quickly hurried on. ‘Even though the place does hold sad memories—there are happy ones as well. We’re just not ready to let it go yet.’

  He nodded. ‘I see. No, I understand completely—I’m sorry if I disturbed you.’

  ‘Not at all, Mr Chester. Thank you for the offer,’ Berry said as she shook his hand again and watched him move towards the front door.

  He paused as he put his hand on the handle. ‘If you ever change your mind and wish to sell, I hope that you will keep me in mind. I promise to make you a decent offer,’ he said.

  ‘Of course,’ Berry said. ‘Goodbye.’

  He gave her a nod. ‘Miss McCalister,’ he said as he opened the door and left.

  Berry pulled back the curtain as she sat on the window seat. There was a fine rain misting Andrea’s cottage garden. It was twilight but still light enough to see the cumquat tree near the lovers’ seat. There was a stillness in the garden and the only sound she could hear was the accumulation of raindrops as they dripped onto the flat slate paving stones.

  For a moment, Berry’s mind wandered to earlier that day. Briefly closing her eyes, she recalled the sensation of Nate’s body close to hers.

  I guess it will give you an excuse to keep coming back to Harlington. That’s good.

  His words circulated around her head and wound their way towards her heart. The more she saw Nate, the stronger the enticement became. Perhaps, even if she went back to Melbourne, maybe there was a chance of something.

  She shook her head as if to clear it. Don’t be ridiculous, she scoffed silently. Long-distance romances are doomed to fail before they even begin.

  Berry turned away from the window and glanced around the room looking for something to take her mind off Nate. In the corner was the box filled with some of the things she’d taken from the shed. Other than one of the magazines, she hadn’t looked at it. She wandered over to the box, knelt down and started sorting through it. There was an old battered briefcase filled with a stack of handwritten papers. Berry knew that they were her dad’s—she remembered his bold writing style.

  As she stared into the case her hand hovered over the papers—partially because she was scared about what she might find. Her mind whirled with crazy ideas, but she slowly worked up the courage to start.

  At first she wasn’t sure what she was looking at. There were snippets cut from old newspapers, a fragile-looking map of Harlington, her father’s handwritten notes and a small paperback about the town’s early history and local legends.

  Berry frowned. Who knew that a place as small as Harlington would have legends.

  She sat down and started sifting through the material to try to work out exactly what her father had been working on, because clearly it had been something. There were some old invoices and a small hand-drawn map of Stone Gully Farm. On closer inspection, Berry saw that it showed a snapshot of what the land had been used for. The house was meticulously drawn and she could easily make out the sheds and the sheep shed in the bottom paddock. The other thing the map showed was the layout of the orchard and all the different varieties of trees that had been planted there.

  She flicked through a slim volume of odd stories and possible tall tales from around the area. She skimmed over the first couple of stories, but the title ‘Hidden Gold and the Lost Child’ caught her attention.

  Berry settled on the bed as she started to read the entry.

  Back in the summer of 1906 a rumour circulated through the town that Harlington was sitting on hidden treasure. A local boy who wandered away from home was said to have discovered a gold seam in the quartz reef.

  Berry looked up from the pages. Something about it sounded familiar. It took her a moment but then an image sparked in her memory of an old man in the pub.

  ‘Young Ned—that’s what he was talking about,’ Berry said quietly. ‘The lost child must have been Young Ned’s ancestor.’

  Berry searched through the box for an old newspaper clipping she vaguely recalled seeing in her dad’s papers. Among the clippings were several accounts of the same story. A few were from 1906 when the child went missing, and others were later. But most surprisingly was an actual newspaper clipping from 1906 confirming that it was indeed Little Neddy Doherty who had been lost.

  A smile flickered across Berry’s lips. She’d been right about the kid being related to Young Ned. Intrigued, she kept searching through the box and discovered that a lot of the papers centred around this one event. It was interesting to read all the firsthand accounts about the search through the bush, but Berry couldn’t understand why this story seemed to resonate with her father. As far as she could make out, her dad had been obsessing about this in the lead-up to his death. Added to the books and papers, she had found her father’s notebook, filled with scribbles about the old legends. She could understand being interested in local history, but her dad had collated an entire box of research all on one small incident.

  One moment it was a respectable ten o’clock and the next time she bothered to check it was 2.27 a.m. Reluctantly Berry pushed aside the box and crawled into bed, only to have her dreams filled with a gleaming seam of gold and a little boy lost in the bush.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Somewhere in the bush, 1906

  Neddy was completely turned around. He’d been so intent on following his bunny that he’d forgotten where he was. That was the problem with rabbits, they didn’t seem to care where they were heading.

  He thought of it as his bunny now as they had spent hours in each other’s company. He should give it a name, as all pets were supposed to have names. Neddy thought about it for a moment as he leaned against a big gum tree. Maybe he’d call him Peter, just like the one in the story his teacher, Miss Warren, had read to the class.

  Neddy tilted his head back and looked up into the spreading branches of the tree. Its grey–green leaves danced in the breeze. He reached out and plucked a leaf and brought it to his lips. Neddy tried to remember how Gabe had told him to hold it so the leaf would make a loud whistle. He blew on it gently but couldn’t make a sound; he tried again but got the same result—nothing.

  Neddy dropped the leaf and frowned. It wasn’t fair that his brothers always seemed to be able to do everything better than he could. Gabe could play tunes on gum leaves—why couldn’t he?

  He glanced up through the branches and to the sky. It was getting late, and he knew he should think about going back home. The sun wouldn’t set for a while, but it must be almost time for supper and he was beginning to feel hungry. The problem was that he wasn’t sure which way home was.

  He looked over and saw Peter nibbling a bit of grass near a small copse of trees. Maybe there was still enough time to see where Peter wanted to take him, and besides, he wasn’t that hungry … well, not yet. He was about to walk towards Peter when a faint sound drifted through the bush. Neddy wasn’t sure exactly what it was, but it sounded like snatches of a faint faraway voice. Closing his eyes, he tried to concentrate on the sound but it disappeared like a waking dream. He waited another moment or two, then, with a shrug, he started walking towards Peter; as he neared, Neddy saw that the ground fell away into a deep gully.

  Just as he reached the trees, the ground seemed to
shift. Neddy tried to grab one of the saplings but the earth collapsed beneath his feet and both he and Peter tumbled towards the gully below.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  Nate walked into the main house and was greeted by the familiar scene of his family’s morning routine. As always his mum was flitting around the kitchen getting breakfast ready with one of the twins in her wake.

  She smiled as he stepped into the kitchen. ‘Morning darling, how are you?’

  Nate walked over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘Fine, how are you going?’

  ‘Running a little late but other than that I’m okay. Now, would you like some breakfast?’

  Nate looked over and saw eggs and bacon and French toast. He’d already had a bowl of cereal but the aroma was just too much to resist.

  ‘I won’t say no,’ he answered with a smile. ‘If there’s enough.’

  She patted his arm. ‘Of course there is. Sit down and I’ll grab you some.’

  ‘I can do it,’ Nate said as he took a step towards the stove.

  ‘No, no, sit down,’ his mother assured him.

  His father glanced up from his newspaper as Nate pulled out the nearest chair.

  ‘Where were you yesterday afternoon? Did you forget that the Turners were bringing two horses to be stabled?’

  ‘Of course I didn’t forget. I got the two stalls cleaned and ready before I left,’ Nate said as he reached for the jug of orange juice in the middle of the table. ‘I figured you would have seen that.’

  His father studied him for a moment before continuing. ‘I did.’

  Nate sighed. ‘So, what’s the problem, then?’

  ‘The problem is that we advertise this place as a family-run establishment. The Turners expected to see you when they dropped the horses off.’

  Nate sat back in his chair. ‘Yeah, right, do you mean the Turners or their brat of a daughter, Penelope?’

  Em giggled from somewhere behind the kitchen bench.

  ‘That’s no way to talk about our customers,’ his father said firmly.