A Chance of Stormy Weather Read online

  A Chance of Stormy Weather

  Tricia Stringer

  www.harlequinbooks.com.au

  ABOUT TRICIA STRINGER

  Tricia Stringer is the bestselling author of the rural romances Queen of the Road, Right as Rain, Riverboat Point and Between the Vines, and two historical sagas in the Flinders Ranges series, Heart of the Country and Dust on the Horizon.

  Queen of the Road won the Romance Writers of Australia Romantic Book of the Year award in 2013 and Riverboat Point was shortlisted for the same award in 2015.

  Tricia grew up on a farm in country South Australia and has spent most of her life in rural communities, as owner of a post office and bookshop, as a teacher and librarian, and now as a full-time writer. She now lives in the beautiful Copper Coast region with her husband Daryl. From here she travels and explores Australia’s diverse communities and landscapes, and shares this passion for the country and its people through her stories.

  For further information go to triciastringer.com or connect with Tricia on Facebook or Twitter @tricia_stringer

  ALSO BY TRICIA STRINGER

  Queen of the Road

  Right as Rain

  Riverboat Point

  Between the Vines

  THE FLINDERS RANGES SERIES

  Heart of the Country

  Dust on the Horizon

  In memory of my much loved mum, Pat,

  who was the quintessential country woman.

  CONTENTS

  About Tricia Stringer

  Also by Tricia Stringer

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Acknowledgements

  An Excerpt From Between the Vines

  Chapter 1

  CHAPTER

  1

  Paula stretched lazily under the fluffy quilt. Her feet reached the chill at the bottom of the bed and at the same moment her hands found the empty space beside her. It too was cold. She opened her eyes. He was gone. She curled herself into a ball, savouring the memory of their lovemaking, and with the tip of her finger traced the dent in the pillow where his head had been.

  A grey blur shot across her hand.

  “Arrrgggh!” Paula’s scream echoed around her in the empty room. She lurched back, flinging out her arm and knocking the bedside table. The old lamp teetered for a moment. She grabbed at it but it was too late. It toppled over the edge and crashed to the floor, shattering.

  “Ohh!” She hoped it wasn’t a family heirloom.

  Clutching the quilt, she rolled back and scanned the bed. Had she really seen something or was it just her imagination?

  The phone rang, interrupting her inspection. She reached out and pulled the handset to her ear.

  “Hello darling.” Her mother’s voice sounded so close even though she was half the country away in Sydney.

  “Hello Mum.” Paula gave Dan’s pillow one more wary glance.

  “Did I wake you? You sound tired. I suppose Daniel is at work already.”

  “I’m awake, and yes,” Paula hated the way her mother called him Daniel, “Dan is at work.”

  “How was the trip? We’re all missing you. Is everything okay there?” Paula didn’t bother to reply. Her mother had a habit of firing questions and not really listening to the answers. “I’ve got wonderful news, darling.” The excitement in her mother’s voice rang a little alarm bell in Paula’s head. She didn’t always share her mother’s view of what was wonderful. Like the time four days before the wedding when Dan had just arrived in Sydney. They hadn’t seen each other for a month and besides wanting him all to herself they had a long list of wedding jobs to discuss. Her mother had organised a large surprise welcome party with extended family and close friends. There was no escape given that the evening event was at her parents’ home.

  “Yes, Mum?” Paula didn’t feel confident.

  “Your father is taking some time off.” Her mother’s voice rose. “And we’re coming to visit you.”

  Paula sat straight up in the bed. Her father was a company director who rarely took holidays. “When?” The question came out in a high-pitched squeak.

  “I told Dad you’d be excited. We’ll be there in two weeks. We’re going to hire one of those four-wheel drives. He’s always wanted one but I can’t see the need for it in Mosman. Anyway, we’re getting a trailer and loading up all the things you wanted sent over as well as the wedding presents. It will save organising a removalist and we’ll get to see your new home.”

  Paula flopped back onto the pillows. She wasn’t ready for this. She was looking forward to finally having Dan to herself. She didn’t want her parents coming to take over and pass judgement on her new life, at least not until she understood it better herself.

  Something moved on the window ledge. Paula blinked. She sat up again and pulled the quilt around her. The room was freezing and the cold nipped at her nakedness. She looked carefully at the ledge. Nothing.

  “Paula? Are you still there, darling?”

  “Mum, it’s kind of you both, but there’s not that much to freight over.” She tried madly to think of a way to deter her parents. “Dan will still be working long hours and I’m not organised for visitors yet.”

  “We’re not visitors, darling, we’re family. You don’t have to make a fuss for us, and your father knows Daniel will be busy but he wants to get a feel for what that new husband of yours gets up to on the farm. He likes to understand what you girls are involved in.”

  Yes, thought Paula, but he had a habit of getting too involved and trying to take over.

  “What kind of food are you eating? Is there something you’d like me to bring? I hope you’re taking care of yourself. You’ve got a man to feed now, you know.”

  “Mum, we’ve only just arrived. I don’t know what we’re going to eat but I am quite capable of cooking.”

  “Of course you are. But you know how you can be forgetful about food.” Paula cringed at her mother’s reference to the dark days after her breakup with Marco when her appetite had left her. That was all behind her now. She’d met Dan and well and truly laid the ghost of her previous relationship to rest.

  “I’m fine, Mum. I can manage…”

  “Of course you can.” Her mother cut in. “Anyway, darling, I must fly. Susan is picking up your photos today and Alison and the children are coming over. We’re going to look at all the pictures and the DVD and repack all your wedding gifts. Dad and I should be able to bring most of them with us.”

  Paula had a momentary pang of jealousy as she imagined her mother and her two older sisters poring over her wedding photos and looking again at the gifts that she and Dan had seen so briefly.

  “Are the photos ready? That was quick.”

  “Friends can always pull strings. I wish you weren’t so far away, darling.” Her mother’s tone was more regret than complaint. “Never mind, your father and I will be with you in two weeks. Now, I really must go and prepare a nice little lunch for the girls. Best love, darling.”

  The phone clicked an
d Paula hung up with a mixture of relief and dread. One of the bonuses of marrying Dan was that they now lived in rural South Australia, a long way from Paula’s previous life.

  Images of their wonderful wedding in Sydney replayed in her head. Everything had gone so well, despite her mother’s fears that it couldn’t possibly be arranged so quickly. To Paula, it had all been magical. She and Dan had spent three beautiful nights at a Darling Harbour hotel, which would have extended to four or five if it hadn’t been for the urgent call from Dan’s aunt, Rowena. The rain had come, their working man was injured and Dan was needed on the farm.

  From the first time the date had been suggested Paula had the impression that Rowena Woodcroft hadn’t thought April a good time for a wedding, but Dan had been reassuring and they’d gone ahead. He had warned Paula several times that farming was unpredictable and plans often had to change. If Tom hadn’t been injured they would have stayed two more nights before flying back to South Australia. She’d been disappointed, of course, but at the same time excited to check out her new home and officially start married life on the farm.

  She rolled over and looked at the room. Their bedroom, Dan and Paula’s, Mr and Mrs Woodcroft. It was her wedding present from Dan. The rest of the house needed lots of work, but he had renovated this room ready for her arrival. He had chosen a sky blue for the walls and painted the door and the skirtings white. The curtains were a blue-and-white damask print. Paula would have liked soft filmy scrim behind, instead of the plain pull-down blind. Perhaps she could add that later.

  Last night they had arrived home well after the late autumn sun had set. Dan had given her a quick tour of the house but it was cold, dark and sparsely furnished, and most rooms needed work. Quickly they had retreated to the haven of their bedroom.

  Paula had been impressed at the effort Dan had put into making the room habitable, but was easily distracted by the joys of having him to herself, in their very own home, in their brand-new bed. She trailed her fingers slowly down the fabric of the bedhead. Goosebumps tingled across her skin and she smiled to herself.

  Bother her mother for wanting to come so soon. This old house was not ready for visitors. Dan had lived with his Aunt Rowena in his parents’ house before the wedding. The house he and Paula had moved into once belonged to his grandparents, but it hadn’t been lived in for years. It would take a lot of work but they were looking forward to making it their own.

  Paula looked over the clothes they had left scattered on the floor to their cases, still standing just inside the door where they’d dumped them last night. Hers had developed a fluff ball on the handle. She looked again. The fluff ball moved. It zoomed down the case and zipped across the floor where it disappeared from her sight under the bed. She jumped up in the middle of the bed, pulling the quilt with her.

  “Aggh!” she screeched to the empty room. “A mouse.”

  She pressed her lips together and looked around. There was no one to hear her. Dan had told her on the drive to the farm that he would be off first thing on the tractor and in a paddock some distance from the house. Goodness knows when she would see him next.

  She looked at her case. No more fluff balls. Paula told herself she wasn’t actually scared of the mouse – after all it was only one small creature – but she didn’t like the idea of it climbing over her things.

  She got off the bed, dragging the quilt with her, and reached for her case. She took a firm grip on the handle, snatched it up, swung around and flung it onto the bed. At the same time a small, grey fluff ball whizzed across the sheets. The case landed, smack, right on top.

  Paula’s hand flew to her mouth and she shuddered. Now there would be squashed mouse all over the lovely new sheets. She stood in the cold room, still draped in the quilt, and glared at the case.

  “Welcome to life down on the farm, Mrs Woodcroft,” she muttered. “Lesson number one. How to get rid of any mice you accidentally kill, while unpacking your jeans and knickers.”

  Carefully, she lifted one end of the case and peered underneath. Nothing. She grabbed hold of the other end and slowly began to lift. The mouse shot out across the bed. Paula screamed and jumped back, tangled herself in the quilt and landed in a heap on the floor. Thankfully the quilt and the mat protected her bare behind from the cold polished floorboards. She looked around for the mouse. Then she heard the voice. It was male and was coming from somewhere inside her house.

  Paula forgot about fresh clothes and grabbed the things she had worn yesterday. A quick shake ensured they harboured no feral surprises before she hurried to pull them on. Who could be here? She’d thought she was alone.

  She looked around frantically for something to protect herself. Behind the door was a broom. She picked it up and, holding the brush end in front of her like a shield, she moved into the passage. The floorboards creaked under her feet and she froze. The male voice spoke again from the other end of the house.

  Despite squeaking with every step, and keeping a wary eye out for more mice, Paula attempted to tiptoe along the passage to the door that separated the bedrooms from the back of the house. It was a heavy swinging door and it groaned softly as she slowly pushed it open. There was no one ahead of her in the passage that continued to the back door and no one to her right where the passage narrowed and led to the bathroom and laundry.

  “I’m here, Dan, I’ll check it out.” A female voice crackled from the kitchen. With a thumping heart Paula turned left and stepped into the room. There was an old wooden table and six assorted chairs, but no people.

  “Okay, I’ll be home for lunch.”

  Paula recognised Dan’s voice. She looked behind the door at the gleaming new fridge and then her gaze lifted higher to the small black box with a handpiece attached by a cord and the number eighteen illuminated on its green screen, which perched on top of the fridge.

  “The bloody two-way radio.” Paula gritted her teeth, reached up and snapped it off. Relieved that she wasn’t about to be attacked, she turned to peruse the kitchen.

  It was a long room. The floor was covered in grimy linoleum that curled at the edges and the walls were yellowed from years of smoke from the wood oven. With her back to the passage door she’d entered by, she realised there were two more doors along the wall to her left. One led into the lounge and at the other end was another door with a stained glass inlay at the top that looked like it would open to the outside. The wall at the opposite end to where she stood was nearly all bay window, with a tattered curtain which failed to block out the weak morning light. The other long wall was taken up with cupboards, sink, an old stove and an even older wood stove. Paula could see an assortment of dishes where Dan must have made himself some breakfast. In the corner, between the stove and the fridge, was the door to the large pantry.

  Paula reached forward and pushed the pantry door open. A grey blur shot out between her feet. She yelped, jumped backwards and spun around swinging the broom in search of the mouse.

  “Paula? Are you all right?” Dan’s Aunt Rowena barged through the passage door and walked straight into the end of Paula’s broom. She staggered backwards into the wall.

  “Rowena! I’m sorry.” Paula directed the older woman to a chair. “I was chasing a mouse. There seem to be a few of them in the house.”

  “You’d have to be a damn good shot to get one with a broom,” Rowena muttered.

  Paula propped the offending weapon behind the door. Her brief meetings with Rowena had left her with the feeling that Dan’s aunt didn’t really approve of her. She was a tall woman with a sharp pointy noise and arched eyebrows that gave the impression she was always asking a question. Her fading fair hair was streaked with hints of grey and was neatly cut at chin length. Today, she was classically dressed in denim jeans, a chambray shirt and sleeveless navy jacket.

  Both Dan’s parents were dead and Rowena had taken on the role of his mother. Not that she fussed over him, but she was his only living relative that Paula knew of and was clearly an influence. Now
here was the dishevelled new bride attacking her with a broom.

  “I told Dan this place wasn’t habitable.” Rowena had regained her breath and glared around the kitchen. “You could still come and live at the new house with me until this place is ready. I wouldn’t get in your way.”

  Paula had stayed at the ‘new’ house when she had first visited the farm several months earlier. She recalled feeling that it very much belonged to another woman, even though Rowena had been away in Adelaide that weekend. Paula knew she wouldn’t feel comfortable there.

  “We’ll be fine, really, Rowena. There just seem to be a few mice.”

  “A few!” Rowena snorted. “I wouldn’t be surprised if we ended up with a plague. In the few days Dan and I were away from the place the mice have multiplied considerably. They’re around everywhere, in the sheds, on the roads. My house is pretty well mouse-proof, but I don’t know how you’ll keep them out of here.”

  Paula looked around nervously. She thought of the Black Death when she heard the word ‘plague’. Surely Rowena was exaggerating.

  Rowena stood up. “The two-way is off.” She turned it back on. “Dan has been trying to call you. He’ll be here for lunch around midday.”

  “Oh, food.” Paula glanced at her bare wrist. In her rush to dress she hadn’t put on her watch. She had no idea what the time was but her stomach felt empty. She hadn’t eaten since they’d stopped for a quick meal at a fuel station on the way from the city the night before.

  “I’ve brought some things with me to help out till you can get into town, but I’m not bringing them in until we see about getting rid of these mice and keeping them out. They’ll ruin the food in a flash.” Rowena headed into the pantry. “We’ll start in here.”

  Paula followed and wrinkled her nose at the smell. There was evidence of mice everywhere. Anything in glass or tin was okay, but some of the plastic containers bore chew marks and mouse droppings trailed everywhere. Packets of biscuits were partly destroyed and flour mingled with sugar in pools dotted with mouse turds that gave the impression of chocolate sprinkles. They took everything out and threw away the damaged packets and their contents.