Right As Rain Read online

  Right as Rain

  TRICIA STRINGER

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  During my travels to research Right as Rain, I met many people and visited many wonderful places in South Australia’s beautiful South East. In particular, I would like to thank Di & Graham Jenke and Erin & Pete Ballantyne for their generous hospitality and for their patient answering of my many questions about farming in their regions.

  My thanks to editor Glenda Downing for her skill and sense of humour and to Sue Brockhoff and the fantastic team at Harlequin Australia. There’s so much to do in bringing forth a book and I take my hat off to you all. What a team! Thank you.

  To fellow writers who encourage along the way – from the CB group, to Fiona McIntosh and her first group of Sunflowers and my new writing buddies amongst the Romance Writers of Australia – a big thank you for your collegiate support and friendship.

  I am so lucky for the love of friends and family, near and far, who understand and encourage my writing life. Margie Arnold who is the quiet voice of reassurance, Sue Barlow and Kathy Snodgrass for some great road trips and Joy & Andrew Hilder who once again have the best spot for a writer to write. Thanks guys.

  To my children and their wonderful partners who buoy me up with their love and are so proud for me – as I am for them – and to my rock, Daryl, thank you.

  For Jared

  CONTENTS

  ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

  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

  CHAPTER 30

  CHAPTER 31

  CHAPTER 32

  CHAPTER 33

  CHAPTER 34

  CHAPTER 35

  CHAPTER 36

  CHAPTER 37

  CHAPTER 38

  CHAPTER 39

  CHAPTER 40

  CHAPTER 41

  CHAPTER 42

  CHAPTER 43

  CHAPTER 44

  CHAPTER 45

  CHAPTER 46

  CHAPTER 47

  CHAPTER 48

  CHAPTER 49

  CHAPTER 50

  CHAPTER 51

  CHAPTER 52

  CHAPTER 53

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  CHAPTER

  1

  A motorbike revved, rousing Mackenna from the deep fug of a dreamless sleep. She rolled over to the other side of the bed. It was empty but she knew she hadn’t dreamt the events of the previous night. Adam Walker was a real man, and she was in love. Her heart skipped a beat and she smiled and stretched across the bed. The sheet settled around her as she became aware of the silence of the room.

  She prised her eyes open enough to squint through the open bathroom door. It was empty. It was only a small motel room and even through sleepy eyes she could see his clothes were missing from the couch and both bike helmets were no longer on the table by the door. Adam was gone.

  The bike revved again, the sound reverberated in the early morning quiet of a slumbering Queenstown. New Zealand’s adventure capital was catching its breath in the brief pause between the last of the revellers finally finding their beds and the workers not yet ready to face the new day. Wide awake now, Mackenna flung back the sheet sending assorted tourist brochures and papers from the bedside cupboard to the floor. She gave only a quick glance to the mess before turning her attention to the window. On the street below, the motorbike burbled and the helmeted rider leant forward, glanced over his shoulder and roared down the street out of sight.

  Her heart raced, but not like it had last night when she’d given in to Adam’s caresses and taken him to her bed. Last night he’d been an attentive lover. She glanced at the clock by the bed. It was only just six o’clock. Why would he leave without saying anything? She chewed her lip. Surely her judgement wasn’t that off? She’d rushed into relationships in the past and this time she’d been determined to take things more slowly and get to know Adam before leaping into bed with him. She’d kept her resolve for a few days. They’d spent the best part of a week together, being tourists and exploring the sights and activities on offer in Queenstown.

  She pressed her forehead against the glass. The noise of the bike softened, as if the rider hesitated. She held her breath. The bike revved and revved again then roared away. She listened until the last burble of its engine faded and the street was quiet once again, then she flopped back onto the bed. Just because her past encounters had turned out to be with losers didn’t mean Adam was one as well. She sat up quickly. Maybe he’d just gone to get something for breakfast to surprise her.

  She dragged the bedclothes back from their pile on the floor and leant down to search for the skydiving brochures. Papers were scattered in all directions but she eventually found the one she was looking for and settled back against the pillows. Adam hadn’t planned to skydive and it wasn’t on Mackenna’s list of must do’s either, but they’d talked each other into it. That was the plan for today if the weather was okay.

  By seven o’clock she’d studied the skydiving brochure for so long she knew every word on it. She dug her prepaid mobile phone from her bag. It was out of credit again. Because of its unreliability they’d always made set plans and hadn’t used their phones, and Adam hadn’t given her his number. She tossed the useless phone into a shopping bag along with all the brochures and made herself a coffee. At eight o’clock she had a shower and dressed and had another cup of coffee.

  By the time nine o’clock came she realised there was no need for Adam to take both helmets for a trip to the shops. There was nothing of his left in the motel room. He wasn’t coming back. The pain of rejection stabbed her like a knife and tears brimmed. In just one short week she had really believed he was the kind of man she could spend her life with. How that would work with him living in New Zealand and her in Australia she hadn’t thought through yet.

  She picked up her camera and found the picture she’d taken of them yesterday, the two of them leaning in. They both looked so happy. Another stab of pain jabbed her chest. He was just another guy having some fun. What an idiot she’d been to think it would amount to anything more than a holiday romance.

  At least no-one else knew about Adam. What happened on holiday stayed on holiday. It was never said exactly, but her parents expected her to find a bloke and get married. Up until now she’d not had much luck with that. No-one had measured up, until Adam. He was a chef on holiday, a kind of busman’s holiday, and had been filling in a couple of shifts for a mate. She’d been mesmerised by his deep brown eyes, his tight dark curls and his ready smile. His quirky New Zealand accent, softened by the influence of his Australian mother, was warm and charming. Their attraction had been instant.

  What a fool she was. She didn’t know much about him at all. She didn’t even know where it was he had been cooking. The tears threatened again. She dashed to the bathroom and doused her face in cold water. It was time to move on. She had other things to do, rather than mope over another loser of a guy. She hesitated, reluctant even with his desertion to think of Adam so harshly. At the sight of her puffy-faced reflection in the mirror, she drew in a breath and pulled
back her shoulders.

  “Time to get back to work, Mackenna,” she told herself and began to pack her bags.

  “Your husband is out of theatre, Mrs Birch.”

  Louise dragged her gaze away from the window looking out over the hospital roof and turned to the nurse.

  “How . . . how is he?” Her mouth was dry, making her tongue stick as she forced the words out.

  “He’s doing fine. Doctor will be in to see you as soon as he’s finished in theatre.”

  Left alone, Louise sank onto the one chair in the room as her legs went to jelly under her. No matter how many times they told her angiograms were routine, she knew things could go wrong. She put on a brave face for her husband’s sake but, left alone, her thoughts terrorised her.

  She looked down at the large white envelope protruding from the handbag she gripped with both hands. While Lyle had been in theatre she’d gone to collect the papers they’d signed the day before. She opened the envelope and slid out the crisp white sheets. They’d had plenty of thinking time over the last month and a new will had been necessary. The previous one had been done before they’d had children, so an update was long overdue. Something they should have attended to before this. Somehow life was always too busy.

  She flicked some stray hairs behind her ear. They’d argued over the wording and it had left them both uncomfortable. Arguments were a rare thing in their married life. Lyle had always been in charge of the farm and her domain was the house. In difficult situations one acquiesced to the other, depending on the circumstance, and they’d made a good partnership.

  This was quite different, of course. Making decisions about property and livelihoods in the event of someone’s death wasn’t an easy thing. Lyle hadn’t wanted it set out in the way Louise had demanded, but he had wavered and she’d taken advantage of his weakened health to press home her point. A pang of guilt coursed through her. She pushed it away. This was for the best. Lyle would be on his feet again soon and everything would return to normal . . . but just in case.

  She dropped the papers onto the bedside cupboard and began to pace the small room. The first lot of stents were meant to fix the problem but Lyle kept getting pains. She’d thought it was the anxiety the doctor had said was natural after a heart attack, but Lyle had insisted it was more than that. Perhaps there was something the doctor was keeping from them. Why was Lyle still getting pain? Would the doctor be able to fix it this time? She stopped as the door opened and her husband was wheeled back into the room.

  He gave her a small thumbs-up, and she kept out of the way while the nurses settled him in his bed.

  “Doc reckons he’s fixed it this time, Lou,” Lyle said as soon as the nurses had gone.

  “That’s a relief.”

  “He’ll be in to see us later.”

  Louise picked up his hand and squeezed it. “You’ll be much better soon.”

  He cleared his throat. “I’m as dry as a chip.”

  She reached for his glass and he spotted the envelope.

  “That our wills?” he asked.

  “I went out while you were in theatre.”

  Lyle sighed. “I’m still not – ”

  “I don’t want you to worry about it.” Louise cut him off. “We’re doing the right thing.”

  “I’m not so sure, love,” he mumbled and licked his lips.

  Louise offered him a sip of water. He closed his eyes.

  “The angio wasn’t a very pleasant experience. Hope they won’t need to do it again in a hurry.”

  She brushed gently at his cheek. He lifted a hand to pat hers but kept his eyes closed. He looked like he’d been through the wringer. She slipped the envelope back into her bag. There was no need to worry him about them now. What was done was done.

  Hugh hesitated at the back door. After the big noise of his homecoming dinner last night the house was very quiet. Three older brothers, their wives and children made for a rowdy assembly when they all got together. His mum loved it. She was in her element with them all seated around the family table, but not Hugh. He was often the butt of his brothers’ jokes and no longer at ease with his father. For Hugh a family gathering wasn’t a scene of enjoyment, more one of endurance but he did it for his mother. He’d been home two months earlier for Christmas and had barely stayed for twenty-four hours on that visit.

  Now he was home for a couple of months. It was just temporary but he already knew it was a mistake to have taken on the agriculture consultant’s job. He’d agreed only because he had some time up his sleeve before his new challenge and he owed it to his mother. His rare visits home were always too short for her.

  He turned at the sound of a vehicle.

  “What the . . .!”

  He retraced his steps to the garden gate. The old farm ute, driven by his mother, grumbled to a stuttering halt with a big log attached to the tow bar. He looked from the lump of wood to the gouge marks in the dust and back to his mother.

  “Hello, love,” she said brightly as she scrambled out of the driver’s seat. “You’re just in time to help me.”

  “What are you doing, Mum?”

  “I’m working on the side garden,” she said. “This log is going to be a seat.”

  The side garden was a misleading name for the wild expanse of trees and weeds that his mother had tried to tame. Despite several attempts over the years, she’d never managed to change the garden to the vision she imagined. She was always so busy helping around the property, raising children and now grandchildren. It had become a standard family joke that Mum would get a bee in her bonnet from time to time and try to cultivate the jungle her husband had named Mary’s Folly. Of course none of them ever offered to help her, and she would run out of steam. A few months or a year would pass before she’d tackle it again.

  They stood either side of the log and she reached across and patted his cheek. “It’s so good to have you home, love. Now that you’re here a bit longer, you can settle in for a while. If you find a nice local girl, you might like to stay.” She winked at him from under her broad hat.

  “Don’t go down that path, Mum. I’ve already told you this is just a temporary visit.”

  “Temporary can be made permanent.”

  “Mum . . .”

  “Help me get this off.” She cut him short to deflect what she didn’t want to hear and began grappling with the huge log.

  Hugh reached across and helped her undo the rope.

  “Hell!” he said as the weight of the wood wrenched free from their hands and hit the ground with a thud, forcing them both to jump clear. “How did you get this hooked up by yourself?”

  “It was sticking up at one end,” his mother said as she inspected her find. “It fell in the strong wind we had a few weeks back. I just lassoed it with the rope and dragged it with the ute.”

  “Where do you think you’re going to put it?”

  “I told you, in the side garden.” She put her hands to her broad hips and glared at him. She wasn’t a very tall woman and at that moment she resembled some kind of mythical woodland creature in her wide hat and a dress that hugged every roll, down to her feet in thick socks and a pair of boots she’d have taken from the assortment at the back door. Hugh didn’t dare smile. Instead, he turned and began to walk. He knew there was no point arguing with her, just as he knew she would use every possible chance over the next couple of months to entice him to stay.

  “Show me where you want it,” he said over his shoulder as he led the way around the side of the house.

  CHAPTER

  2

  “Oh, look at that view,” the Australian voice gushed. “Stop darling, take a picture.”

  Adam felt rather than saw the couple beside him taking their holiday snaps. He knew what they were looking at and he’d purposefully chosen a seat with his back to it.

  At the end of the street behind him, the lake stretched out to be met by the greens, browns and greys of the rugged mountains rising out of it. He’d been to Queenstow
n several times but he’d never really taken a lot of notice of the views. Most of his trips had been for work and to try all the activities on offer. This last week had been different. Mackenna had made it different. They’d wandered the streets hand in hand, eaten at restaurants, had impromptu picnics, enjoyed various tourist activities and yesterday they had planned to skydive together. Instead, he’d spent the afternoon looking for her. Once darkness descended he’d been forced to accept that she was gone.

  He put his head in his hands.

  “Hey, Ads.” A hand slapped him on the back and he sat up. He watched as Jeff slipped into the chair opposite him.

  “Has something happened with your grandfather?” Jeff asked.

  “Still holding his own.”

  “I thought that long face might have meant bad news. Have you ordered? I haven’t got long.” Jeff glanced around. “Where is she?”

  Adam picked up the menu. He’d been dreading this moment. He’d wanted to text Jeff and cancel but his need for a friend had stopped him. “I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean you don’t know?” Jeff placed his big hand over the list of lunchtime snacks.

  Adam forced his eyes to meet his best mate’s gaze. “She’s gone.”

  “Gone? As in off to the shops or as in disappeared?” Jeff chuckled.

  “Disappeared.” Once again the pain of her loss stabbed at him. He watched the smile fade from Jeff’s face.

  “Have you called the police?”

  “She left on purpose,” Adam said quickly, before Jeff took things into his own hands. “When I got back to the motel yesterday the woman at reception said she’d checked out.”

  “Where did she go?”

  “I don’t know.” He rubbed at his chest. “She took a taxi but the woman didn’t know where to. She’s just . . . disappeared.”

  Adam studied the menu through watery eyes. Damn, Jeff would think him a fool. Adam was shocked himself. He’d never thought this emotion possible over a woman, but Mackenna wasn’t like any woman he’d ever known. He loved her.

  “Did you try ringing her?”