The main street of Violet Falls was uncommonly wide. It had been designed that way so it could accommodate horses and wagons, carriages and the odd herd of cattle being taken to market. On both sides of the street were rows of Victorian-era shops; most were two storeys with verandahs that shaded the footpaths and were decorated with wrought-iron lacework.
As Violet drove along the street she thought back to the day she arrived in town with Holly, and how nervous she’d felt. Since then, she’d come to feel not only a familiarity, but also a comfort with the place. Shops had changed and new people had arrived but the backbone of the town hadn’t really altered. The bakery which had first opened its doors a hundred and eighteen years ago was still operational—and was sandwiched between an antique shop and a bright new chemist. The bookshop had been under the watchful eye of the Andrews family for forty years, whereas the Hummingbird Café seemed to change hands every few months. Mixed in with shops she remembered, were new additions like Magpie’s Shiny Home Wares and the Millstone, which was Dan McKellan’s restaurant.
Violet slowed the car as she passed the only empty shop in the row. You could just make out the faded sign painted straight onto the second-storey wall, which said: Beckett’s Good Food Store and Supplies Est. 1883.
Her family, the Becketts, had founded this town. Although back in the late-1850s it had just been known as The Falls, after the pretty waterfall situated on the outskirts of town. The Falls had grown out of a tent city in the gold rush. Her ancestor Michael Beckett had struck it rich and staked out almost a thousand acres. The other founding families, the McKellans and the Hartleys, had also lived in the Falls during the early gold rush days. But all three families saw the potential in the land rather than chasing gold. When the other prospectors moved on in the hope of finding richer goldfields, they stayed and put down roots, and worked hard for a bright future.
Over the following couple of generations the Beckett family were the richest and the most influential in the whole area. But the family’s fortunes turned around when one of Violet’s ancestors, the woman she’d been named after, drowned at the waterfall. Out of deference to the family and because of the tragedy, it was agreed that the town would be renamed Violet Falls. Sometimes Violet’s own grandmother had wondered whether the death of their ancestor had put a curse on the family because, bit by bit over the years, the Beckett family lost nearly everything.
Now the vacant store and the family home were all that was left of what used to be the vast Beckett fortune. The money, the string of shops and land had all disappeared through bad business decisions and gambling.
Violet’s estranged grandfather, Silas Beckett, had surprised both her and her younger sister Lily by bequeathing everything to them in his will. He had left Lily the shop and Violet the family home with the acre of ground it sat on.
Violet hadn’t thought him capable of such a kind act. But then, Silas had probably been thinking about family pride and what the town would think, rather than doing what was right.
She really must talk to Lily about the shop. It seemed wrong that it should sit there empty. Maybe Lily could put it up for rent, it wasn’t as if she couldn’t use the extra money. Violet tapped her foot on the accelerator and continued on her way. She still had a few minutes to get to the school and pick up Holly before heading out to McKellan’s Run.
Charlie ‘Mac’ McKellan stood in the home paddock, his eyes scanning the distant ridge. Taking off his Akubra hat he ran his hand through his dark brown hair and leaned back against a tree. It felt good to have the cool breeze on his face after digging fence posts all afternoon.
He filled his lungs with the sweet air and gazed around at the beauty that was McKellan’s Run—twelve hundred acres of some of the best grazing land in the area. McKellan’s Run had sheltered and sustained his family for almost a hundred and fifty years. It was in his blood and he’d been honoured when his father had charged him with managing and protecting it until it could be handed down to the next generation.
Mac put his Akubra back on and headed to the house to grab a bottle of water before he took the quad bike and went up to the ruins to do some more fencing—just another job to add to the growing pile. September had arrived, which meant the forty-two hundred merinos which roamed over the Run needed to be rounded up so the shearing could be done. It was a lot of work and he would probably have to hire in some casual workers as well as the shearers, to get it done in time.
It really shouldn’t have come as any surprise that it was right at this moment that Jason, his high-flying and errant brother, decided he wanted to get married. Not that Mac had any problem with Jason tying the knot—it was just his decision to do it here. It seemed as if Jason never really thought about anyone else and what they might be in the middle of. He was always too focused on what he wanted.
Though Mac could hardly have said no. McKellan’s Run might be his but Jason and Dan had both grown up here too. So he’d bitten his tongue and agreed to the wedding being at home, though he did warn his mother he didn’t have the time to help, so if they wanted a wedding they’d have to organise it themselves.
His mother had assured him everything was in hand and she was hiring a professional events planner—whatever that was—to help. How hard could it be to throw a wedding together?
His mother had texted him earlier to say she’d arranged to meet this events person at the house this afternoon. All he needed was some damned stranger poking about the place and asking a whole lot of damn questions. He’d grab a drink and get the hell out of there before he could be roped into anything.
Mac let out a shrill whistle and Razor, his trusty blue heeler, swung around and ran back across the paddock.
‘Come on, Razor! Time to go.’
Mac opened the gate and walked towards home, the dog trotting by his side. Daylight was burning and he had a hundred things to do before nightfall.
Violet stopped the car after she pulled into the gates of McKellan’s Run and drank in the sight. The poplar-lined drive led down to an impressive two-storey homestead with a wide verandah which wrapped around the entire building. The woodwork was painted white and stood in dramatic contrast against the red brick. Most of the home had been constructed in the early 1870s and there was a bygone grace about it rarely seen these days.
It’d been a long time since she’d been here but the view hadn’t changed much, apart from the trees being taller. There was something comforting about the reality still matching the picture she carried in her head. McKellan’s Run was just as elegant as she remembered.
‘It’s a pretty house, Mummy.’
Violet looked across at Holly. ‘Yes it is, but it’s even prettier up close.’
At the bottom of the drive, Violet parked the borrowed car and took Holly by the hand.
‘Come on, sweetheart, this way.’
With a smile she led Holly down the little path through the tunnel of wisteria and jasmine toward the side door which led to the kitchen. She hadn’t forgotten that this was the entryway most people used when they came visiting. However with each step, Violet’s stomach fluttered. Forget butterflies, this was more like a stampeding herd of wildebeest thundering in her tummy. Just being here was bringing up a slew of memories she’d rather forget. She drew in a deep breath and ignored the impulse to turn around and run away.
Violet leaned forward and gave a quick knock on the door before suddenly, without warning, it swung in. She heard a soft grunt as she stumbled and fell against Charlie McKellan’s hard chest.
‘Hey, I’ve got you,’ he said as his arms tightened around her. ‘Violet! Violet? I’d heard you were back but what are you doing here?’
She grabbed onto Mac’s shoulders and tried to steady herself, feeling the warmth of his skin through the cool cotton of his shirt and the bulge of muscle beneath his sleeves.
‘Sorry, about that, I didn’t realise you were about to knock,’ said Mac, with a hint of a smile. ‘I wasn’t expecting you. I mean, um . . . Why are you here?’
‘It’s fine, Mac. It’s good to see you again,’ said Violet. He looked the same as ever—lean, hard and handsome. High cheekbones, beautiful hazel-green eyes, squared off chin and a hint of a five o’clock shadow.
Mac stared back at her until heat crept into her cheeks and she forced herself to look away.
‘Um, your mum hired me to help with the wedding. I’m a party planner these days.’
‘Oh right, well, it’s good to see you too, Violet. I’ve—’
‘Are you going to let my mummy go?’ said Holly.
Recovering her wits, Mac let go of Violet and she said, ‘Holly, this is Mac. Mac, this is my daughter, Holly.’
‘Hi,’ said Holly, linking her fingers more tightly with her mum’s.
Mac’s eyes widened and he hesitated for a second before he squatted down. ‘Hi Holly, it’s nice to meet you. You’re as pretty as your mum. Maybe later you and her could come and have a look at our new kittens.’
‘You’ve got kittens?’ asked Holly, her face lighting up. ‘Mum can we go and see them now?’
‘Maybe later,’ said Violet with a smile. ‘But first, we have to see Mrs McKellan.’
Mac stood up. ‘She’s in the kitchen. You remember the way?’
‘Yes, yes I do.’
‘Good,’ said Mac, walking through the doorway before turning back and staring at her. ‘I’ll catch you both later and hopefully we can go and see those kittens. Oh and Violet, I’m glad you’re back. I’ve . . .’
His sentence trailed off and hung in the air between them.
‘You’ve what, Mac?’ asked Violet.
‘I’ve been meaning to come and say hello, but I wasn’t sure if you were keeping to yourself,’ he answered. ‘You just disappeared all those years ago and . . .’ he started, before shrugging, taking a long last look at Holly, and continuing out the door.
Violet stared after him at a loss for words before Holly tugged on her hand. ‘What are we doing now?’
Violet shook herself out of her thoughts. ‘We’re going to find Mrs McKellan in the kitchen so I can talk to her about planning a wedding. Hmmm, I do believe there was talk about lemonade and sugar biscuits.’
‘Really?’
‘Yep, let’s go.’
Walking through the house they came to a large, bright open kitchen.
‘Ah, there you both are!’ said Sarah, standing up from a chair at a large table near the wall. ‘I was wondering when you’d get here.’
Time had been kind to Sarah, thought Violet. With her trim figure and blonde hair cut into an elegant bob, she was as attractive as ever.
She hurried over and was soon wrapped in a tight perfumed hug. ‘It’s good to see you again, Sarah.’
Sarah gently pushed her back and held her by the shoulders. ‘Let me look at you. Ah, Violet, I’d forgotten just how beautiful you are. Why, you haven’t aged at all.’
‘Not true, but thanks,’ said Violet and then gestured Holly forward. ‘This is my daughter, Holly.’
As Sarah bent down, Violet noticed her eyes soften, even mist up a little.
‘Holly, well you’re just as beautiful as your mummy aren’t you?’
‘That’s what that man just said,’ Holly replied.
Sarah gave Violet a questioning look.
‘We just ran into Mac—literally—as he was heading out.’
‘Oh, I see,’ Sarah said with the hint of a smile before turning to Holly. ‘Well, why don’t you come over and sit up at the table and I’ll get you some lemonade and something sweet to nibble on. Would you like that?’
‘Sure,’ said Holly, nodding.
‘Holly, manners.’
‘Yes please,’ said Holly before wandering over to the table.
‘Hmmm, better,’ said Violet as she followed her daughter. Opening her bag she pulled out some pencils, stickers and a colouring book. ‘I got you these, sweetheart.’
Holly grinned at her mother as she settled herself at the table. ‘Thanks, Mum.’
‘You’re welcome,’ Violet answered, ruffling her little girl’s hair before she sat down next to her and took out her tablet. ‘So Sarah, about the wedding. Have Jason and his fiancée given you any ideas about what sort of look they want?’
Sarah looked up from pouring Holly’s lemonade. ‘It’s a fairly small affair. The guest list at the last count was about seventy. As for a “look”, Celine did mention “timeless elegance”,’ she said, rolling her eyes.
‘Okay, maybe we should work on an idea—“a vision” in party speak—for the reception space,’ said Violet as she fired up her tablet.
‘Celine and Jason were here last weekend and did a walk-through of the house and the different options for where the actual ceremony would be. She’s quite a demanding girl. I’m not saying I don’t like her, I’m just saying she can be a bit full-on,’ Sarah said as she set down the biscuits and lemonade in front of Holly.
‘Thanks,’ said Holly, briefly looking up from her drawing.
‘So why isn’t Celine organising it all?’ asked Violet. ‘Generally brides like to plan every little detail.’
‘Both she and Jason have pretty fast-paced lifestyles which involve a lot of travel. Everything about this wedding seemed to come out of the blue. Jase rang to tell me he and Celine had decided to get married in six weeks and I assumed at the time that they’d be doing it in the city. But he rang Mac the same evening to ask if he could have it here—though I’m not sure if it was really him or Celine who wanted to.’
‘Why the rush?’ asked Violet. ‘Sorry, I don’t mean to sound rude or anything. It’s just, I mean, usually wedding venues are decided on a whole lot earlier than this.’
‘I’m not really sure, but the short timeframe has really thrown a spanner in the works. Mac’s busy with the farm and I’ve had to call in all sorts of favours and beg friends for help.’
‘What about the catering, do we have to arrange that as well?’ asked Violet.
‘Oh no, thank goodness. Dan is doing that as his present to the bride and groom.’
Violet breathed a sigh of relief. She’d heard recently that Dan—Mac and Jason’s younger brother—had spent a few years training to become a chef in France or Italy, she couldn’t remember which. ‘Great, I saw that he’d opened a restaurant in town.’
‘He’s doing very well,’ said Sarah, smiling. ‘I’m so happy for him. He’s finally putting all his experience to good use.’
‘So, am I right in thinking all you need me to do is dress and organise a ceremony space and the reception area?’
‘Yes, that’s about it,’ Sarah replied.
Violet looked up from her tablet. ‘Too easy,’ she said, grinning as she took in the relief on Sarah’s face.