Sapphire Falls Read online

  Fleur McDonald has lived and worked on farms for much of her life. After growing up in the small town of Orroroo in South Australia, she went jillarooing, eventually co-owning an 8000-acre property in regional Western Australia.

  Fleur likes to write about strong women overcoming adversity, drawing inspiration from her own experiences in rural Australia. She is the bestselling author of Red Dust, Blue Skies, Purple Roads, Silver Clouds, Crimson Dawn, Emerald Springs and Indigo Storm. She lives in Esperance with her partner Garry, her two children and a Jack Russell terrier.

  First published in 2016

  Copyright © Fleur McDonald 2016

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher. The Australian Copyright Act 1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to the Copyright Agency (Australia) under the Act.

  Arena Books, an imprint of

  Allen & Unwin

  83 Alexander Street

  Crows Nest NSW 2065

  Australia

  Phone: (61 2) 8425 0100

  Email: [email protected]

  Web: www.allenandunwin.com

  Cataloguing-in-Publication details are available from the National Library of Australia

  www.trove.nla.gov.au

  ISBN 978 1 76011 264 6

  eISBN 978 1 95253 547 5

  Set in 13/17.5 pt Garamond by Post Pre-press Group, Australia

  Printed and bound in Australia by Griffin Press

  To my beautiful, gentle soul, Garry.

  Thank you for your understanding, your calmness amid my chaos, and for the way you love me.

  CONTENTS

  Prologue

  Chapter 1 Three months later …

  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

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Charlie could feel the mist settle on his shoulders. It was coming directly from the nearby creek and it sent a chill down his spine. As he held onto the back of the ute to pull himself up, his fingers touched the cold dew and immediately his hands were wet.

  He glanced out into the darkness. There wasn’t much to see—the sky was covered with thick, grey clouds that had dumped an inch of rain earlier in the day. It was hard to make out even the outline of the shed, let alone the road.

  Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.

  He slotted the spotlight into the frame, which was bolted to the railing on the top of his ute, and tightened it, before flicking the switch to make sure it was connected.

  Instantly, the yard was flooded with a brilliant white light and Charlie squinted against the glare before quickly turning it off again.

  Raucous laughter rang out and he could hear the footfalls of his two companions. One of them must have tripped because he heard a scatter of stones, then an expletive.

  ‘Oi! Turn it back on again!’ Eddie yelled. ‘We’re not bats, you know.’

  ‘Can’t see in the dark,’ the other confirmed in a loud voice.

  Charlie tried, but this time nothing happened. There was a silence followed by the sound of splashing water. ‘Ah, shit. I’ve just walked into a dirty great puddle. Turn the bloody light on would you, Charlie?’

  ‘Sorry, mate,’ he answered, getting down from the tray of the ute. ‘Terminals must have come loose. The light isn’t switching on. Stay put.’

  He didn’t expect they would stay in one spot. He could hear them walking towards him. The clinking noise Eddie made as he walked gave them away: the .303 bullets he kept in his pocket always made that jangling noise.

  Reaching for the button on his headlight, he pushed it and was rewarded as a bright glow showed him the way to the engine. He wiggled the alligator clips to get a better connection and light once again flooded the yard, chasing away the late-night darkness. It was close to ten pm.

  ‘There we go,’ Geoff said as both he and Eddie stopped next to Charlie. ‘Right to go?’

  Charlie looked up at them and reversed out from underneath the bonnet. Both were holding rifles tucked under their arms, their eyes shaded by hats, even though it was dark. Driza-Bones flapped around their ankles. It was almost like they wore a uniform.

  ‘I don’t know, fellas,’ he said, scratching his head. ‘Reckon it’s a bit wet and slippery, don’t you?’ It was a half-hearted question, for even though he felt apprehensive, he was keen to get this bastard of a wild dog.

  The mongrel thing had been stalking sheep within a fifty-kilometre radius for the past three months and all the farmers within the area had lost sheep as a result of its attacks.

  ‘I’ll drive,’ Geoff said, ignoring his hesitation.

  Charlie sighed and an extra cold blast of wind blew across the yard. Cold fronts were unusual at this time of year, but this one had swept across the peninsula and over the ranges, bringing icy temperatures and chilly winds. Like a forewarning of the winter.

  Still, the coolness gave him more opportunities to cuddle his wife. That’s where he’d much rather be at the moment. Snuggled up to Fiona inside, next to the roaring fire. Repeating last night’s lovemaking. He felt himself begin to harden as he remembered the desire in her eyes flickering in the firelight. The way she had trailed her lips down his chest, and over his arms and stomach. The way her blonde hair had fluttered across his skin.

  He shook his head to clear it. He needed to concentrate on what had to be done tonight. ‘We’ll pick up Leigh on the way,’ he finally said as he swung himself up onto the back of the ute. ‘His meeting finished early.’

  Half an hour later, Charlie was standing between Leigh and Eddie, looking through the sites of his gun and trying to work out if the glowing red eyes belonged to a fox or a wild dog. He was pretty sure it was a fox.

  He tapped lightly on the cabin roof to indicate he had a clear shot and for Geoff to stop.

  Eddie shifted the spotlight briefly and Charlie lost the eyes. He drew in a measured breath as the light picked them up again.

  Squinting slightly, he squeezed the trigger. A deafening shot rang out, quickly followed by the thump of a bullet hitting a body. Leigh thumped his arm in a congratulatory gesture and Eddie let out a whoop.

  ‘One less of the bastards,’ he said excitedly.

  ‘Bloody good shot!’ Geoff stuck his head out the window as he called up to them.

  Charlie inserted another bullet into the barrel and clicked it shut. ‘Check him out, ay?’ he called back, grabbing hold of the rail as Geoff launched forward, quickly picking up speed.

  Suddenly Ch
arlie couldn’t make sense of the noise—a scraping sound, the ripping of metal. All too quickly he realised he was falling … slamming against Leigh.

  He reached out for the railing of the ute but the force of the tipping vehicle snatched it away.

  Letting out a yell, he propelled himself forward, desperate to hold on to something, to steady himself from going over the side.

  The ute teetered on two wheels before landing heavily on its side.

  A flash of fire and a gunshot.

  A sickening thud echoed through the night.

  Charlie felt something warm squirt all over him.

  ‘What the fuck!’ he screamed in panic as Eddie fell heavily onto him. Charlie smacked into Leigh and together they tumbled from the ute, landing in a heap on top of one another.

  He heard the oomph of air leave one of his mates, but he couldn’t be sure who it was.

  Everything was a mass of screams and shouts. Loud engine and then lights. Slamming doors, as Geoff attempted to get out of the ute.

  Charlie tried to get up, but he was pinned to the ground by … Eddie? Was it Eddie? He couldn’t see!

  ‘Fuck. Oh my God, are you serious? Eddie? Eddie!’

  Charlie knew from Geoff’s high-pitched scream that something was seriously wrong.

  There was the flash of a spotlight in his eyes and then the weight was lifted from his body.

  ‘Call an ambulance!’ cried Geoff.

  Now he was free, Charlie shot to his feet and looked around. He needed to get his bearings—he needed to know what was wrong.

  Eddie was lying on the ground, Geoff and Leigh bent over him.

  Charlie felt for his mobile phone. His pocket was empty.

  ‘Shit.’ He looked around, hoping to see it. His brain kicked into gear and he ran to the ute. Reaching inside, he grabbed the mic and called: ‘Help! Can anyone hear me? We need an ambulance.’

  All Charlie could hear was silence punctuated by the low static from the radio and panicked voices coming from behind him. ‘Anyone? We need help!’

  Leigh appeared at his shoulder. ‘Get through?’

  ‘Nothing. Where’s your phone? I’ve lost mine.’ He jiggled up and down on the spot, desperate to do something.

  Leigh reached inside his jacket pocket and looked down at the screen in his headlight.

  ‘No range. I’ll run back to your house for help. Help Geoff.’ Shedding his heavy jacket, Leigh started to run, stumbling over the rocks. He was swallowed up by darkness.

  Rapidly, Charlie moved towards Eddie and Geoff.

  ‘My turn,’ Charlie edged Geoff out of the way and placed his hands on Eddie’s upper body, applying pressure to his chest and feeling the blood, warm on his hands. He tried not to vomit.

  It seemed like an eternity before he heard the ambulance sirens. Heard the comforting tones of the paramedics. Then a blanket was placed around his shoulders and someone asked if he was hurt.

  He was shaking badly, but he didn’t think he was. Charlie couldn’t form the words to answer them.

  Two other paramedics loaded Eddie into the back of the ambulance and drove quickly away.

  As if from underwater, Charlie heard the sirens start and saw the flashing lights illuminate the paddock.

  In the distance he thought he heard the wild dog howl.

  Chapter 1

  Three months later …

  Fiona Forrest sat next to her dead husband’s coffin, staring at it dully. Music played softly in the background and she could smell the roses that filled two urns on stands nearby.

  The church felt exactly like she did. Cold and empty.

  Her hands gripped the handles of the casket, hanging on for dear life. In an hour she would have to leave Charlie and let his parents and everyone else have their moment to grieve for him. It made her want to rip open the lid and demand that he come back.

  Demand that he get up out of there and come back to her. To hug her, to love her. To be there for the rest of his family and friends. For her!

  How dare he leave her like this? How could he be such a coward?

  Rage coursed through her like a wave of hot lava.

  But how could she think like that? she berated herself. Of all people, she, Charlie’s wife, had known how desperate he’d felt. How he’d fought to cope with the guilt that had been gnawing away at him. The horror had kept playing over and over and over in his head; it didn’t matter if his eyes were open or shut, Fiona knew that memories of that night would never leave him, the moment when he’d been told Eddie couldn’t be saved and that it had been his gun that had fired the fatal shot.

  She could only hope that his tormented mind was now at peace.

  ‘Charlie,’ she whispered, resting her hand on the lid of the casket. Fiona knew she had been powerless to help him, but she would have given anything to have been able to ease his pain!

  It had made her feel so helpless.

  Fiona felt a hand on her shoulder. She pulled her head to the side to release her long blonde hair from Leigh’s touch but her blue eyes continued to stare at the coffin.

  Briefly she wondered why she couldn’t cry. She hadn’t yet. Not even in that hideous moment when Leigh had knocked on her door, tears coursing down his cheeks, his chest heaving.

  Of course, the minute she’d seen him, Fiona had known what had happened. She’d almost been expecting it.

  All she could do was open her mouth and say, ‘No.’ So quietly she wasn’t sure Leigh had heard her above his own sobs.

  Of course, her low plea hadn’t changed anything. She’d made Leigh take her to where he’d found Charlie.

  ‘No, Fee,’ he’d implored. ‘You don’t need to see.’

  He hadn’t understood that she did. Of course she had to see her Charlie. How else could she believe he had really gone, had really left her?

  Now that sight was something she would have to live with, the same way Charlie had been besieged by his own memories and thoughts.

  In a weird, roundabout way, with all that had happened, now it was she who was left with the horror, not Charlie.

  The hand left her shoulder and Leigh squatted down next to her.

  She turned slightly and out of the corner of her eye saw his familiar bearded face and vivid blue eyes. He was staring at her, full of sympathy. Fiona didn’t say anything or acknowledge him. They were both grieving and she thought they could take comfort in each other’s presence without words.

  ‘I’m sorry, Fee,’ Leigh finally said, his voice a strangled whisper.

  ‘What for?’ she asked, tearing her eyes away from Charlie’s resting place.

  ‘I don’t know,’ he shrugged. ‘Got to say something—’ He broke off.

  ‘No, you don’t. There’s nothing to say. Just be here.’

  Fiona saw he was swallowing hard so as not to cry.

  Her eyes flew back to Charlie’s coffin of their own accord. She heard Leigh clear his throat and take a deep breath.

  It would be over soon, this horrible, horrible day, and they would be able to start moving on. She never thought she’d have to say that at thirty-two. Move on. From her husband’s death. She was a widow.

  A widow.

  ‘I keep thinking I’m going to get a text from him, tell us we’ve made a mistake and he’s coming back.’

  Fiona turned back to Leigh. ‘What?’

  ‘You know, those funny one-liner texts that would have us laughing for hours? “Thought you could get rid of me? Try again!” Just him being …’ His voice faded away. He brought out a handkerchief and wiped his nose.

  ‘Being Charlie,’ Fiona finished for him.

  Leigh cleared his throat again, nodding. ‘Being Charlie. That’s it.’

  Swallowing, she knew she couldn’t say anything, that there were too many raw emotions. Too much anger, sadness and despair rolled into one.

  ‘I’ll help you, I promise, Fee. I’ll help with the farm. We all will.’

  ‘No!’ The word burst from her and she stood
up to face him. She ignored his look of surprise. ‘Not now, Leigh. Not today. I know your intentions are good, but just not today. Let me bury my husband. The bloody farm will look after itself for a few days.’ She turned and walked away.

  Twirling the glass of wine between her fingers, Fiona stared into the fire. It was all she seemed to do since Charlie’s death—stare.

  What a hell of a day, she thought as the flames danced around the few thin logs she’d thrown on. The wood box was nearly empty. I must tell Charlie we need to cut some more … The thought fizzled as quickly as it had appeared and an awful hollow feeling spread through her.

  ‘Do you need anything, love?’ her mother asked, sticking her head into the lounge room.

  ‘No thanks, Mum,’ she managed to answer, trying to ignore her feelings. Just Charlie.

  ‘Jo’s just sent a text to say she’s nearly here.’

  ‘Okay.’

  ‘William and Felicity are devastated they couldn’t be here for you. They sent me another text this afternoon, after the funeral, to see how you were.’

  ‘It’s too far to fly back from the US, Mum. I understand that.’

  ‘Your husband has just committed suicide and your brother should be here for you,’ Carly huffed.

  Fiona clenched her jaw, desperate to yell at her. It didn’t matter that her brother and sister-in-law weren’t with her. It didn’t matter that Jo was almost here. Couldn’t her mum see that? All that mattered was that her beautiful man, her Charlie, was gone. Unbidden, an image of Charlie lying in the coffin came to her. Just before the funeral director had closed the lid of Charlie’s coffin, Fiona had taken one last look at him. When she’d touched him, the iciness of his hands had shocked her. For some silly reason, she thought he’d still be warm—he looked like he should be. She blinked.

  Instead she said, ‘Funnily enough, Mum, I’m aware of the situation.’

  The all too familiar queasy sensation started in her stomach again. It seemed to get worse during times of great pressure, but it had been ever present since the accident, often making her vomit.

  Carly kept hovering at the door and Fiona expected her to say something like ‘Chin up’, but thankfully she didn’t. She just sighed and after a while left the room.