Sarah stood on South Head, looking over the harbor and the town of Sydney. Behind her, the signal whipped in the breeze, signifying a ship in port. Below, the town glowed in the morning light. What had begun as a small settlement was growing as new people, bond and free, came to the colony. The town expanded outward from the harbor, spreading like spilled ink. She moved her gaze up the steep steps and winding alleys of the Rocks District. Colorful birds in cages hung outside the doors of the whitewashed cottages along the waterline. In the Government District, she watched the red coats moving in formation as the regiment drilled on the parade ground. She squinted, idly wondering if Conall Stewart was among them.
Looking toward the sea, she saw pink eucalypts growing on rocky shores. Whalers’ and sealers’ ships bobbed among the merchant ships, and here and there, she saw the red-and-white whip pennant of a convict vessel. The sights of Sydney were as familiar to her as any, but today, none of the familiarity brought her comfort.
She felt hollow, numb. The Pierces’ visit had taken place a week earlier, and still her heart was cold. Gloom hung over her like morning fog rolling off the ocean and stealing the brightness.
“Sarah.”
She turned as Captain Thackeray approached. She curtseyed, motioning toward the harbor. “The Coeur d’Alene looks magnificent.”
He puffed out his chest. “Aye, that she does.” He walked to stand beside her, his eyes scanning the view. “She just waits for a few more libations—and fair winds, of course. I’ll miss this city, my girl. Fine people here.”
She tried to smile but couldn’t manage it. “I’m sorry about the wool.”
He squinted, tipping his head. “The wool?”
“The wool that didn’t arrive, the last shipment. Surely you got my note about the fleece burned in the fire.” She let out a sigh, feeling the weight of his disappointment. “If only I’d sent it to the warehouse sooner. I—”
“Sarah, the wool arrived.”
“Impossible. It burned, all of it. The storage building . . . I had no more to send.”
“It arrived,” he said slowly, studying her face as if just noticing something was amiss. “Sarah, are you well?”
“Oh, yes.” She nodded, but the gloom seemed to grow heavier when she tried to act cheerful.
He continued to study her, but Sarah didn’t have the energy to even feel uncomfortable beneath his scrutiny. She felt like she was wilting
“Come.” He led her to a bench. “Sarah, what aren’t you telling me?”
She shook her head. “I am a bit tired after my journey, I suppose.”
He nodded, crossing his leg and resting an arm across the back of the bench. “Can you think of how a shipment of the finest Saxon-Merino wool arrived on my ship yesterday evening, addressed to Captain Alan Thackeray of the Coeur d’Alene from Miss Sarah Whitaker of Sarah Hills?”
“I told you, all my fleece was burned—” Sarah stopped. Saxon-Merino wool? “Daniel.” Just saying his name hurt so badly that she drew in a quick breath, wincing. Daniel had sent the wool. His wool. But . . .
Captain Thackeray continued to study her. “There is more to the story, I see. Something has happened.”
“He is a felon, sir.”
He nodded. “I know.”
Sarah gaped at him. “You know? But you befriended him. You seemed to . . . regard him favorably.”
“A fine man,” he said. “I consider him one of the finest of my acquaintance.”
“But . . .” She opened her eyes wide, unable to believe what he was saying.
“I did befriend him. I also gave my blessing when he asked permission to court you.” His voice dropped low as he spoke.
“Why?” She shook her head. “Why would you do that?”
“Because he’s a good man, Sarah. A changed man.”
She let her shoulders drop. “People don’t change.”
The captain lowered his foot, letting it tap for a moment as he watched a sea bird flying in a lazy circle far above the town.
“Did he tell you why he was transported?”
“Larceny,” she said. “I read it in the convict manifest.”
“He did not tell you himself?”
“I did not . . .”
“Ah. I see, you did not give him the chance.”
Sarah frowned, darting a glance at the man. It seemed very much like he was taking the wrong side.
“Through a series of bad decisions, Mr. Burton found himself in a fair bit of debt. He placed a wager he could not afford to lose and took measures to ensure a win. He killed a racehorse.”
Sarah’s mouth opened.
“It was an accident. He’d been assured the herbs would make the animal sleepy, too slow to win the race, but the concoction was more potent.”
“That is despicable.” Sarah tried to sound indignant. She should feel disgusted, but she just felt . . . sad.
Captain Thackeray nodded. “Exactly what the judge thought. And what Daniel thought himself—and still does.” He threaded his fingers together, leaning his arms on his knees. “He cannot forgive himself. And instead he forgives others.”
Sarah averted her gaze. The captain’s words disconcerted her.
“Daniel cannot undo what he’s done, Sarah. But he can change his actions from now on.”
“But I cannot trust him.” She felt desperate to convince him. Surely he could understand why she’d been so hurt by Daniel’s secret. “He kept the truth from me. He is a felon, and I cannot trust a felon.”
“You cannot?”
“I cannot allow myself to. They are not honorable, even when they give the appearance to have changed. Oliver Winchell seemed to be a gentleman. Marcus Payne worked at Sarah Hills for over ten years. They speak lies, seeking only to deceive. And when they have your trust, they betray you.”
Captain Thackeray let out a long breath. He closed his eyes. “Sarah, do you know why I went to sea?”
She shook her head slowly.
He looked down at his hands. “I was an orphan, grew up on the rookery streets in London. I worked for a man—we all did if we hoped to survive—who fed me based on what I was able to steal from wealthy people’s pockets.”
Sarah stared at the captain. Her chest burned as she realized what his story meant. “You, Captain?”
“Aye, Sarah.” He glanced up at the crow. “Course, I wasn’t any good at stealin’. Police runners caught me lifting a lady’s purse. Gave me a choice of prison or service. Said there’s a captain at the docks lookin’ for a crew.”
“I’m sorry. I did not know.”
“Nobody knows, ’cept my wife, of course. I’m not proud of my past. But I give my word of honor, since that day over fifty years ago, I’ve never stolen a farthing.”
Sarah felt heavy as she contemplated the man’s story. She’d never thought of him as anything less than an honorable gentleman. She was surprised when she found she still thought of him that way.
“A person is not what he has done in the past. He becomes what he chooses to do with the life he’s been given. You must see that.” He turned to her, leaning forward to catch her gaze. “We are all dealt a hand to play. As a child, you were brought to a foreign land where you had no friends, a rather irritable aunt, and news of your father’s death. Instead of selling the land and returning home, you learned bookkeeping, you became an expert on sheep and crops. You cannot tell me you haven’t changed, Sarah.”
He lifted her hand, loosening the fist and held it in both of his. “People can change.”
His words were true. She wasn’t the same girl who arrived in the colony ten years earlier hoping to see a kangaroo. She had become a new person. The same, yet different. She had made mistakes along the way, so many mistakes, and yet she’d not made allowance for others to do the same.
She thought of what the captain said about Daniel. He was not the same man who’d fixed a wager by killing a horse. She knew it, and thinking over his actions, she could see that he had changed his path. He avoided places where he might be tempted to wager. He defended his workers. He replaced her lost wool. These were not the actions of a dishonest person.
Captain Thackeray pressed a handkerchief into her hand, and Sarah realized she was weeping. She leaned against his shoulder, and her emotions burst forth.
He wrapped an arm around her, patting her back.
Daniel believed in her. He trusted her, as imperfect as she was. He not only knew her faults but understood them. And from the first day, she had faulted him for every perceived error. From taking the land she wanted, to hiring her foreman, to befriending an aborigine, she’d seen only his flaws and tried to convince him to change. Daniel, in turn, had loved her for the person she was, not who he wished she’d be.
Captain Thackeray had said Daniel forgave everyone else, but he needed forgiveness too. And she’d failed him.
“Oh, Sarah,” the captain muttered in a soothing tone.
“Captain.” Her breath hitched as she sat up and wiped her eyes. “I have made a dreadful mistake.” She rose. “I must go—”
He stood, smiling.
She glanced toward the harbor. “But I will wait and see you off.”
The captain took her shoulders, turning her fully toward him. “Sarah Whitaker, I love you like a daughter, and so I will tell you what I’d tell my own children.” He cleared his throat, his eyes wet. “Look to your future not your past, my dear. Bid me farewell, shed a tear if you must, promise to write, then leave this old man behind and go after the life that awaits you.”
Sarah’s throat was tight. “Thank you, Captain.” She whispered the words.
“I’m proud of you, Little Minnow.” He pulled her to him, kissing her forehead. “Now, off with ya. And I want a full report in your next letter.
“Aye-aye, sir.” She embraced him once more then hurried away. Her heart ached, but it was a different kind of ache. Not the emptiness she’d felt earlier but a soft sadness that came from bidding farewell to a beloved friend. And the feeling was tempered with hope, pushing the emptiness from her heart and casting off the gloom. It was the last and dearest gift Captain Thackeray had given her.
Sarah returned to the inn and asked Molly to repack their clothes.
Molly looked at her with confusion. They had arrived only the night before. “But, my lady, are we not going window shopping? And what about the ship?”
“I’m sorry; I must return right away.”
“My lady, have you been crying?”
“I—” Sarah’s throat grew tight, but she had enough of weeping. Now she was resolved to action. She rubbed her eyes, realizing she still held Captain Thackeray’s handkerchief, which threatened to send her off again. She fought against the emotion.
She considered how to answer Molly then remembered the captain’s words. She looked at the woman for a moment, making up her mind. “Molly, I do not mean to be presumptuous, but I saw you speaking to a man in town last week.”
Molly’s eyes became immediately wary.
“Is he a friend of yours?” Sarah asked.
“Yes, my lady,” Molly answered slowly, her face nervous, but a blush bloomed on her cheeks, confirming Sarah’s suspicions.
“Do you think he might want to work for me?”
Molly’s eyes went wide. “Yes, my lady, I think he’d like that very much.”
Sarah nodded, turning to leave. “I’ll wait for you at the carriage.” Once she left, she allowed a smile at Molly’s bewildered expression.
She stepped out of the inn and nearly bumped into the colonial secretary.
“I beg your pardon, Miss Whitaker.” He swept off his hat and bowed.
Sarah curtseyed. “Mr. Campbell.”
“I heard you were in town to see off the Coeur d’Alene.” He looked irritated, as usual, to have to speak to a woman about business matters.
“Yes,” she said, not wishing for a long conversation with the man, not after their last meeting.
“Very good,” he said. “I came to tell you the property you’d, ah, inquired about a few months ago is available for purchase.
“What property?”
“The land beside yours, formerly belonging to a Mr. Daniel Burton.”
Francis Park? Sarah’s felt a chill go over her spine. “I don’t understand, sir. Mr. Burton is living on the land. He’s built a house there.”
He shrugged. “Apparently he’s gone. The grant papers arrived at my office just this morning.”
“But where did he go?” Daniel wouldn’t abandon Francis Park. She couldn’t believe it was true.
“That I don’t know, Miss Whitaker.”
“And what of his workers?”
“I expect they’ve been turned over to the convict supervisor in Parramatta.” He hissed out a breath and patted a handkerchief on his forehead. “Really, miss, you know how these things work. Now do you want the land or not?”
Daniel was gone? Where was he? How would she find him?
“Miss Whitaker, it is dreadfully hot out here in the sun. If you don’t mind—”
“Yes. I want the land.” Sarah’s mind raced through options. She could think of nowhere Daniel would go. He couldn’t return to England. Had he found a ship bound for America? She didn’t know of any set to sail in the next few weeks aside from the Coeur d’Alene, and Captain Thackeray would not keep something of that magnitude from her.
“You can pick up the papers in my office, miss.”
“Pardon? Oh yes. Thank you, Mr. Campbell.”
He gave a curt bow and left.
Sarah chewed on her lip, and the answer came to her. Sergeant Conall Stewart. He would know where to find Daniel. And if not, he’d surely help her search.
After a few inquiries, Sarah and Molly were directed to a low stone building. She spoke to the soldier at the door, who asked her to wait then hurried inside.
A moment later, Conall stepped through the door grinning. “Och, Miss Whitaker, Miss Green. A fine sight indeed. And what can I do for ye lassies then?”
Sarah did not bother with pleasantries. “Sergeant, Mr. Burton has left Francis Park. Do you know where he went?”
Conall’s smile weakened. His eyes became serious. “Aye, miss. I do at tha’.”
“And will you tell me?”
“If ya don’t mind me askin’, why do ya wish to know?” He folded his arms across his chest.
Sarah was surprised by his manner. She’d never seen the sergeant without his typical booming cheerfulness. He seemed to be choosing his words with caution.
“Sergeant Stewart, I have made a mistake.” She twisted the handkerchief in her fingers, the scrap of cloth giving her courage. “I said things I regret, and I must find Daniel and make it right.”
He blinked and lifted his brows. He seemed to be considering. “He’s gone to Bathurst, across the mountains.”
Sarah’s heart sank. She glanced at Molly. Bathurst? The idea of leaving the safety of the ring of mountains was terrifying. “Oh.” She pressed her hand to her mouth.
“Ah, Miss Whitaker, don’t go cryin’,” Conall said. “’Twill be all right.”
“Sergeant, please. Can you help me to get to him?”
The man’s grin returned. “Aye, that I can.”
Three days later, Sarah rode with Conall up the winding road to the convict farm. She held a lead rope, and another saddled horse followed behind.
On either side of the road, she could see acres of farmland. Pumpkins, potatoes, cabbages, turnips—all growing in rows, all being tended by felons wearing the coarsely woven gray-and-yellow uniforms.
Bored guards stood along the road, anywhere they could find shade, keeping watch over the workers. They snapped to attention when Conall passed.
The pair reached the farm buildings and located the main house, leaving their horses with a groom.
“Ya goin’ to be all right, miss?”
Sarah hadn’t realized how tightly she’d been holding her shoulders. “These are not my favorite people, Sergeant,” she said in a low voice. “If it was not absolutely necessary to speak to them, I would happily avoid them for the remainder of my life.” She forced herself to relax.
Conall nodded. “I agree with ye wholeheartedly.” He knocked.
A butler admitted them and showed them to a sitting room, and a few minutes later, Mr. Pierce joined them. Sarah and Conall rose when he entered.
“Sergeant Stewart, Miss Whitaker. I apologize. Mrs. Pierce is away at present.”
He motioned for them to be seated.
“That is just as well,” Sarah said. Her skin crawled at the sight of the horrid man and the memory of their last meeting. “I’m here to speak with you.”
“I see you’ve come to your senses, miss. Found a respectable companion. No doubt you’re here to thank me for the enlightening bit of information I delivered last week?” He sat back, a smug look on his face.
Conall’s hands balled into fists on his legs.
“No, that is not the reason for my visit, sir. I’ve come to discuss a business matter.”
“Ah.” He waved his hand. “By all means.”
“I’d like to take on one of your workers. A Mr. Bill Hawkins. He was assigned to the farm only a few days ago from Francis Park. The convict supervisor’s office tells me his transfer will not leave you understaffed.” The man’s eyes were narrowed, but he didn’t speak, so Sarah continued. “Mr. Hawkins was my foreman before he went to Francis Park. He’s experienced with sheep and knows my farm. I want him back.” She held her tongue, wanting to condemn the man for his cruelty, separating Bill Hawkins from his family out of spite. The convict supervisor had told her of Daniel’s request and the measures he’d taken to keep the Hawkinses’ together.
Mr. Pierce gave a casual shrug. “I don’t particularly wish to part with the man. He’s a good worker. Don’t see many of those these days. I’m afraid I’m going to deny your request.”
Sarah swallowed the bile in her throat. The man was just trying to goad her. She lifted her chin, forcing herself to speak civilly. “Please, Mr. Pierce. A favor.”
“I am not inclined to, Miss Whitaker.” He stood. “Good day to you both.”
“Och, Mr. Pierce,” Conall said. He hadn’t risen despite the rudeness of remaining when his host stood. He leaned back in the chair. “Is tha’ any way to treat a lady, I ask ye?”
Mr. Pierce looked properly affronted. “I beg your pardon, sir. This affair is none of your concern.”
“Aye, true enough. My concerns are soldiers and the like. As a matter o’ fact, Mr. Pierce, it puts me to mind o’ somethin’ one o’ the men said. Believe he mentioned ye. Said yer the man to ask about a seamstress. You’ve been quite often a’ the docks, ya see, with different lassies. When he asked yer business, ye said ye were lookin’ for a woman to mend yer clothes.” Conall spoke casually, but the way his eyes narrowed left no doubt as to his meaning.
“Sir, I take offense to that outrageous accusation.” Mr. Pierce’s face was a striking color of burgundy. Veins bulged in his neck.
“Nothin’ to be ashamed of. A lost button here, ripped seam there. Happens to all o’ us.” Conall leaned forward. “Perhaps I’ll ask Mrs. Pierce if she’s a recommendation for a mender.”
Twenty minutes later, Bill was brought into the room. Mr. Pierce hadn’t returned with him, which Sarah thought was a relief.
Bill looked between the two, frowning. “Miss Whitaker?”
“Mr. Hawkins,” Sarah said. “I’m here to offer you a position.”
His frown turned into a scowl.
“I understand why you might be hesitant. I separated your family.”
He did not change his expression.
Sarah could see the man’s hurt and knew she was the cause of it. “Mrs. Hawkins has taken a position at Sarah Hills with Trudy.”
His scowl fell away, and he cocked his head.
Sarah took a step closer. “I want you to work with me. All of you. I was wrong before, and I apologize.” She held out her hand.
Bill looked from her to Conall then reached forward, clasping it nervously. “I don’t know what to say, Miss Whitaker.”
“I hope you will say you forgive me.”
“I do.”
She smiled. “Thank you. And you must forgive Mr. Burton. I know he wanted you to be with your family.”
Bill nodded. “Aye, he put in a request with the convict supervisor to keep us together, but Mr. Pierce . . .” He glanced back as if to ensure the man wasn’t listening.
Sarah felt a wave of anger at Mr. Pierce. That the man would purposely go after Bill’s family, separate them as an act of revenge, was horrible, even for him.
Conall smacked Mr. Hawkins on the shoulder. “Bill, let’s get ye home to see yer wife and that bairn. Then, Miss Whitaker and I need ye to help us plan.”