They found Nathaniel and Denman in the stables, buckets in hand.
‘I owe you and Nathaniel.’ Olivia slapped Denman on the shoulder. ‘You’ve done a wonderful job. You didn’t have to, you know.’
Lettie’s gaze swept the immaculate stable block, the polished tack hanging in neat rows, the stacked bales of hay and beyond the stables the repaired fence lines and sparkling water troughs.
‘Thought you had other things on your mind and could do with a hand.’ Denman tipped his hat back and sank down on a hay bale with a sigh. ‘Nathaniel’s got something for you. Go on, lad, go and get it.’
Without a word, or even a glance in Lettie’s direction, Nathaniel disappeared into the stables.
‘I wanted to show you something. See if you can help me solve a puzzle.’ Olivia unrolled Evie’s map and spread it out. ‘This is Evie’s map. The one I was telling you about.’
Denman peered over Olivia’s shoulder. ‘Talented girl, young Evie. Always had her sketchbook with her, used to do pictures of all the drovers, fast as lightning that pencil of hers would skid across the page. There’s many a woman has one of her sketches tacked to her wall.’
‘There’s a picture here of one of the drovers’ parties.’ Olivia indicated to the fire and the group dancing. ‘I’m dancing with Bailey.’
Denman put his nose within two inches of the paper. ‘Nah. Eyes aren’t good enough. It’s too dark in here. Need to be outside.’
A shiver of apprehension tiptoed across Lettie’s shoulders. ‘I’ve got a magnifying glass.’ She reached into her pocket.
‘Outside I said. Get a move on.’
Olivia rolled up the map yet again and they all trooped out into the sunshine.
‘Put it down here.’ Denman smoothed the map, his nose as good as touching the paper.
Lettie handed him the magnifying glass. ‘It’ll be clearer if you use this.’
With a grunt Denman brought the glass to his eye, angled his head and sighed. ‘Yep. That’s Bailey. Not a doubt about that.’
‘Do you know who this is?’ Olivia pointed to the couple behind the stables.
Denman let out a hoot of laughter. ‘Caught in the act.’
The thundering noise in Lettie’s ears almost drowned out his words. ‘Who is it?’ she whispered.
‘Miriam, who else? No one else had hair like that, always reckoned she needed a damn good shearing.’
‘And who is that with her?’ She stabbed at the picture of the man, his arms encircling her waist, his drovers’ shirt a bright blot.
Denman quirked a grin. ‘Bit hard to tell. Got any ideas, Nathaniel?’
Lettie jumped. She hadn’t noticed that Nathaniel had reappeared. He’d got Evie’s saddlebag hanging over his shoulder. Polished up, looking as good as new.
Nathaniel took the magnifying glass, examined the picture and shrugged. ‘A drover? Could be anyone. Can’t see his face, hat’s pulled too low.’
‘Can tell a lot about a man by the way he wears his hat,’ Denman said.
Lettie’s skin prickled. ‘Who is he?’
‘Take a guess, it’s a bloke called Chapman. One of the drovers. Stuck around for a while then took off to …’ Denman scratched at his chin ‘… Liverpool Plains, maybe further north.’ He shrugged.
A shiver ran down Nathaniel’s back, and his hat itched. He took it off, raked his fingers through his hair. The picture was ridiculously small. The man could be any one of the drovers that rode the stock route today, never mind thirty years ago.
Olivia cleared her throat. ‘Lettie, I know this will come as a shock but it’s for the best. Get it out in the open once and for all. There’ve been too many secrets in this house for too long.’
Secrets? What kind of secrets? Something Lettie obviously didn’t want to hear; her face had paled and every one of her freckles stood out like specks of gold dust across her nose.
The tension in the air crackled. He stepped up behind her, slipped his arm around her shoulder.
‘I’d put money on it being Chapman.’ Denman spoke the words clearly. No way to misinterpret what he’d said.
Lettie swayed, sucked in her breath, wrenched away from him and started to run, her feet tumbling and tripping through the long grass.
He bolted after her. Caught her around the waist.
‘Let go of me.’ Her eyes blazed, her arms flailed as she tried to push him away.
He reached for her shoulders, felt the tremor run through her body, then the tears began.
‘Leave me alone.’ Her words came in a hiccupping sob. ‘You don’t understand. It’s Thorne…’ She pushed away from him.
Without a second thought he swept her up into his arms, cradled her against his chest.
‘Put me down.’ She gave a feeble kick then her entire body heaved and the fight went out of her.
What the hell was going on?
‘Take her up to the house, Nathaniel,’ Olivia said.
He covered the distance in no time, Olivia leading the way. She held open the door of a small bedroom at the front of the house and he laid Lettie down on the narrow bed.
‘Go on. Off you go. She’ll be fine.’
He closed the door behind him wishing he could stay, sit beside her, hold her hand until she was ready to tell him what was happening.
He found Denman slumped at the kitchen table, the saddlebag in front of him, running his finger over the leather. ‘Olivia’ll look after Letitia. She’s got a lot to take in.’
A picture of her mother as a young girl messing about with one of the drovers. Not the best but not the kind of news that would make a girl like Lettie swoon. ‘Am I missing something?’
‘Dunno. Are you?’ Denman leant over the map which had somehow made it to the kitchen table. ‘Let’s see here. Perhaps you don’t know everything. Miriam was more than a handful, best thing that could have happened, William taking her to Sydney to wed. She had a bit of a thing going for Chapman. A Ludgrove wasn’t ever going to marry a drover.’
So he was right. The old story about a man not being good enough.
‘Used to hang around every time we came in, flutter her eyelashes, dance the night away, then it got a bit more serious. Didn’t realise quite how serious though.’ Denman cleared his throat, picked at his ragged fingernails. ‘Young Mr Ludgrove got wind of it and it was what you might call an arranged marriage.’
Was he saying that Miriam got herself in a predicament, had to get married?
‘Rawlings was Mr Ludgrove’s manager in Sydney. It didn’t take much to talk him into it. A damn great dowry smoothed the ride and pushed their finances into the red.’
‘Are you saying what I think you’re saying?’
‘That Rawlings didn’t sire the boy? Reckon I am. Lettie’s taken it tough—finding out the brother she idolised wasn’t who she thought he was.’
‘He’s still her brother. Same way you’ve been a father to me. Though I’ve never really understood why you took me on.’
‘Not sure I do either. Just didn’t seem fair to me that a boy should suffer because fate dealt him a raw hand. First your mother, then your father in that godawful crossing on the Hawkesbury.’
Not the time to go over his story—it was Lettie’s he wanted to understand. ‘And that’s why this Chapman disappeared from the scene?’
‘Suspect he got a handful of cash to take with him. Like I said, a Ludgrove doesn’t marry a drover, no matter how much she might want to.’
And the sooner he got that fact straight in the head the better he’d get on. What if the drover was a stockman? Owned himself a decent property, a stud? The dream was still there. But lately there’d been another thought or two slipping into his mind. And that’s what had cut him when Lettie had said she’d have to return to Sydney. It was one he was going to have to get out of his mind right now.
‘You’re quiet. Nothing else to say?’
‘No, just thinking about Lettie, about the future.’
‘Taken a bit of a shine to her, haven’t you?’
‘Might have. Not much I can do about it. Said she’s going back to Sydney. Besides it’d be like history repeating, wouldn’t it?’
Lettie hugged her arms around her body, her teeth chattering, her whole body shaking. Olivia pulled the quilt around her shoulders and smoothed her hair back from her face. ‘Come on now. It’ll all turn out for the best. You’ll see.’
No. It wouldn’t. It couldn’t. ‘It can’t be true. Thorne is my brother.’ The mere thought brought a rush of bile to her mouth.
‘Yes, he was, and always will be. Your half-brother, that’s the only difference.’
‘But he and I … we’re alike, had so much in common, loved the same things, the motor, the boat, adventure …’ She interlaced her fingers, clenched them tight until her knuckles cracked and a low moan issued from her mouth. ‘How long have you known?’
‘Some of it for a long time, other bits not as long.’
‘What about Pater? Does he know Thorne isn’t his son?’
‘From the outset. William arranged the marriage the moment Miriam’s situation became obvious. It was a difficult time. Alice had died. William was grieving, we all were. He did what he thought was best. Turned out he was right. Miriam and Rawlings have had a good life. He accepted Thorne as his son and then you came along and sealed the bargain.’
The bargain. It made it sound as though she was some kind of compensation. ‘And Pater is my father?’
‘Of course he is. You only have to see the two of you together to know.’
‘You’ve never seen Pater and I together.’
‘I have once. You came here when you were very small, do you remember?’
‘With Thorne. Yes. We thought the house was haunted. He fell out of the angophora.’
‘The day Miriam brought me William’s will.’
‘But why …’ Lettie shot upright ‘… why leave Ludgrove to Thorne? Grandfather knew he wasn’t Pater’s son. You knew.’
‘William accepted Thorne as his grandson. He settled a handsome dowry on Miriam, she inherited the house in Horbury Terrace. Same as my parents did for my sister Alice and me. She took a large cash dowry into her marriage to William and I inherited the Maynard land.
‘He settled the Ludgrove land on Evie. We all expected she’d come home. William wanted the two properties to stay as one, just the way his father and mine intended.’
‘And what do you think?’
‘I want William’s wishes upheld. The properties shouldn’t be divided. Right from the moment the land was granted the intention was that they should be joined, through William and Alice’s marriage, but there was no son to inherit. William was convinced Evie would return, he left me as caretaker and then, only days before he died, he changed his will. If Evie didn’t come home Thorne would inherit the Ludgrove portion on his thirtieth birthday. William finally accepted that he wouldn’t be seeing Evie in his lifetime.’
But Thorne had died before his thirtieth birthday. ‘Why did Miriam think Thorne would inherit the Maynard land? It’s yours.’
‘I have no heirs. Miriam played on my insecurities.’
‘What insecurities?’
‘My foolish misapprehension and my misery. I believed Bailey had left, disappeared, because he and Miriam …’ She took a deep breath, pursed her lips and forced the words out. ‘I thought Bailey was Thorne’s father. That’s why Miriam and I haven’t spoken for all these years. I told her I never wanted to see her again, that she should never set foot on Yellow Rock. I believed she’d stolen the man I loved, and married another.
‘I was a fool. I didn’t have the courage to follow my heart. I couldn’t marry a drover, any more than Miriam could.’ She waved her hands in the air her face suffused with colour. ‘Then as the years passed I wondered if I hadn’t made a mistake. I tried to find Bailey, but all I heard was the same old story about wages and stolen horses. I didn’t believe them any more than Denman did. In the end I decided Bailey’s son, Thorne, should be the one to inherit Maynard; not only would it make amends, it would keep the two properties as one, just as William wanted.’
But Olivia had no proof that Thorne was Bailey’s son. ‘Why didn’t you ask Mother?’
‘Because I’m an arrogant old woman bent on vengeance, without a shred of forgiveness in my soul.’
Dread coiled in Lettie’s stomach. She didn’t want to leave Yellow Rock, especially not now. With a hollow heart Lettie reached out and took Olivia’s gnarled hand.
‘I want you to do something for me,’ Olivia murmured.
‘Anything.’
‘I’d like you to stay and finish Evie’s map, finish her story, and Bailey’s. Tell the truth. You’re the only person who can.’
Olivia’s unexpected request and the faith she was placing in her brought tears to Lettie’s eyes. ‘I’m not sure I can.’ She hadn’t the skill. She might be able to sketch the odd cartoon, doodle on the back of a piece of paper but what Olivia was asking was so much more.
‘You can. No one else understands Evie as well as you do.’ Olivia narrowed her eyes. ‘I was right on the very first day you arrived when I said it was as though Evie had come back to me.’
Such a fey remark from the down to earth woman buffeted Lettie’s senses. She’d pushed the dreams and strange sense of connection she felt with Evie away since her foolish grab for the paper in the fire. ‘What if I spoil Evie’s map?’ Or worse, ‘What if I get the story wrong.’
‘You won’t. Evie will guide you.’