Driftwood (29 page)

Taylor chuckled, recalling how she walked in on Tom yesterday looking through
The Idiots Guide to Babies
, which he'd hidden within his newspaper. ‘Yeah, I know he is. He's even talking about ordering a cot and highchair and painting the spare room in the workers' cottage pink so he can babysit when we need a night off. I swear he's turning all soft on us.'

Crunching of leaves underfoot broke their conversation as a shadow moved in from behind them. ‘Did I just hear my name mentioned? And also something about me becoming soft?' Tom wiggled his finger in his ear. ‘I thought my ears were bloody burning,' he added sternly, the grin on his face saying otherwise. He gave Taylor a kiss on the cheek as he sat down beside her. ‘How you feeling about your mum coming to stay for a few nights now the actual day has arrived?'

‘Hmm, a little nervous, but I'll be okay.' She screwed her face up. ‘I hope.'

Tom gave her leg a reassuring pat. ‘I'm here to help, if you need me, love. Just go easy on her. We all make mistakes. I've been mad at her for the last twenty-odd years, but she's apologised so many times that I've had to forgive her.' He chuckled to himself. ‘Otherwise, I don't think she would have ever stopped calling me, and she was driving me nuts.'

Taylor chuckled along with him. ‘I know she can be persistent when she wants to be. Where do you think
I
get it from?' She paused, thinking. ‘I'll be nice to her. She
is
my mum, and I will always love her. I just need time with her, that's all. I'm glad the big charity concert is on tonight, so we aren't sitting around the homestead, going over it all again. I think it will do us a world of good to get out and about, you know, bond a little and have some fun. We've talked about what she did over the phone until we're blue in the face — there's not much left to say about it, really. I think it's best if we just leave it in the past and move on.'

Tom smiled proudly. ‘That's my girl! It's a good thing to be able to forgive, it takes a lot of courage and it also stops you from growing bitter in your old age.'

A rising cloud of dust pulled their attention towards the entrance of Waratah Station, the silvery sparkle of a flash Range Rover announcing Grace was here, and thankfully, Taylor thought, on her own. She didn't want to see her stepfather, all he'd do was look down his nose at Tom, and she'd find it impossible to bite her tongue and she didn't want any more arguments today — there had been enough with him over the phone. He was exactly like her grandfather, cold and selfish, and unapologetic for lying to her about Tom all these years. No wonder her mum had married him. They always say people marry their parents and Charles was certainly like her grandfather. It was so sad that her mum had missed out on something so very beautiful. She'd missed out on unconditional love. Taylor couldn't help but wonder if her mum loved Charles at all. Thank God, Jay was like Tom: quietly confident, considerate, moral, loyal, protective and, most importantly, so very loving. What more could a woman want?

Tom stood, straightening his shirt with trembling hands like he was readying himself for an interview, as Jay helped Taylor up from the ground. She sucked in a deep breath and released it slowly. ‘Right, Jay, let's go introduce you to my mum.' She gestured towards Tom with raised eyebrows. ‘You all right, Dad?'

Tom nodded briskly. ‘Yep, right as rain. You lead the way love.'

The drive into Driftwood was long, the conversation among Taylor, Jay, Patty, Tom and Grace a little forced but thankfully Patty filled in the uncomfortable silences with trivial topics like the weather. She asked Grace plenty of questions about living in the big smoke. Taylor was remarkably relaxed, Jay offering his support as he drove with occasional gentle squeezes of her hand. Her mum seemed tense in the back seat, which was expected, and Tom fidgeted beside her like he desperately needed the toilet. Taylor respected how hard it must be for him and she loved him all the more for not only refusing to say a bad word against Grace but also trying to talk Taylor into forgiving her. How her mum could have ever left such a wonderful, big-hearted man was beyond her. Money and fear could do crazy things to some people.

A wisp of a smile touched Taylor's lips as they hit the entrance to Driftwood, the native trees along the road now in all their flowering glory. The newly built post office and bank looked smick among the quaint little stores that had survived the battering of Iva because they were built from brick. The endless hours of hard work and the many money-raising events had all contributed to putting the picturesque seaside town back on the map. It felt damn good to have been a part of the rebuilding process and to witness the way the residents had pulled together so strongly, even after some had lost everything they owned. And it wasn't uncommon, even six months later, for someone to break down when asked how they were doing. Cyclone Iva had left its unfavourable mark on all of their hearts.

There was still plenty of work to do, though, damaged homes to repair, and a handful to rebuild. The homeless were relying on friends and family to house them until they could find a way to restore their lives. But overall, there was a feeling of optimism for the future, and it made Taylor very proud to be a part of such a close-knit community.

Entering the front beer garden of the new Southern Cross Hotel, Taylor felt a well of admiration for Jay and his generosity fill her: Jay had donated fifty thousand dollars towards the reconstruction of the iconic hotel. Her beautiful man believed the pub was the heart and soul of Driftwood, the place where the residents could come together and draw strength from each other after the town was almost wiped off the map. He just couldn't bear the thought of it never being rebuilt. She paused to read the inscription on the substantial gold plaque out the front that Col and Faith had insisted on putting up, proudly pointing it out to her mum. The words written by William Donnellson were so poignant she felt a few tears welling in her eyes as she silently read them for the umpteenth time. The original letter they had found in the old jewellery box was now framed and ready to take pride of place in her and Jay's new home.

I, William Harold Reginald Campbell Donnellson, duly declare that I was wrongly accused of the brutal murders of the Ballinger family of Goldbury, New South Wales, in 1859. The true killer was one Sergeant Clive Terrence Hocking. This jewellery, owned by Christina Ballinger, was found in his possession on the same day I accidentally killed him in a rage after learning he had raped my darling Anne. May God forgive me for this sin and may Hocking rot in hell for his crimes.

I chose not to come forward with this information, feeling that the local officer of the law would not take a humble farmer's word over that of a fellow police officer, who had been accidentally killed by my very own hands. It would have only brought attention to my family and myself, and I could not afford to be hanged, as my family's livelihood depends on me. I hope, that whoever finds this — if it is God's will that it is ever found — can use these contents for the improvement of Waratah Station and to keep her within the Campbell Donnellson family.

This is my last and final wish and if he sees fit, may God grant me this.

Yours

William Campbell Donnellson

Taylor smiled softly as she noticed her mum sniffle and wipe wet eyes.

‘And I thought we had it tough,' Grace murmured, putting her arm around Taylor's shoulder. ‘I love you, Taylor. Please don't ever doubt that.'

Taylor kissed her on the cheek. ‘I love you too, Mum.' She ran her fingers over the plaque. ‘Bless you, William and Anne,' she whispered, before turning with her mum and joining the rest of the group inside. Taylor knew without a doubt, as did Jay and Patty, that if it wasn't for William's hidden treasure they would have never found a way out of the devastation of the cyclone, and Waratah Station would have been ripped out from beneath them by the bank. They had searched high and low for the next of kin of the Ballinger family, but there were none, making the jewellery rightfully theirs to do with as they wished. The sale of the jewellery to an antique merchant down south had brought a hefty sum: three hundred and twenty-six thousand dollars.

Running from a corner table and throwing her arms out wide, Jasmine gave Taylor a massive hug, as if they hadn't seen each other for years, yet it had only been a few weeks. Wes walked over beside her, vigorously shaking Jay's and Tom's hands and introducing himself to Grace. Their bundle of joy wriggled in the pram he was pushing — Matilda was six months old.

Jasmine gave Patty and Grace a quick peck then poked Taylor's bellybutton, which had somehow found its way out of her button-up shirt. ‘I recall someone having a good old laugh at mine. Now it's your turn my dear friend. At least you won't have to give birth in the middle of a bloody cyclone, though.'

Wes cackled. ‘Yeah, talk about when it fucken rains it fucken damn well bloody pours.'

Jasmine gave him a sharp slap on the wrist. ‘Wes, I keep telling you. Don't swear in front of Matilda!'

‘Oh, shit. Sorry. I keep forgetting.' He covered his mouth, quickly realising his mistake again. Jasmine glared at him as she tried to stifle a smirk.

‘Righto you lot, who's ready for a party then?' Adam Brand's familiar voice came from the direction of the bar. Taylor looked over, grinning when she spotted Adam, Graham and Fang sharing a few beers with Col and Faith. Zoe gave her a quick wave from where she was working behind the bar, the tension between them long forgotten now that Zoe had found love with the most unlikely of men, Cooper Harrison.

Shuffling over and giving them all a big squeeze, Taylor felt very loved. It had been months since she'd seen the guys, and she'd missed them like crazy, the three blokes only pulling into Driftwood early this morning after a long drive up the coast. She introduced her mum, proudly announcing Adam's name. Grace blushed as Adam kissed the back of her outstretched hand — she knew Adam from watching
Dancing with the Stars.

‘You all set for our duet, Tays?' Adam asked, grinning.

Taylor jiggled on the spot. ‘Excited and nervous all rolled into one! I can't believe it's going to be on national telly too — how amazing! You're a star for coming here to do this for nothing, Ads. We all appreciate your efforts to raise money for the town.'

Adam raised his beer. ‘I wouldn't want to be anywhere else. Everyone here is like family to me and it's the least I can do. You just wait until you see the statue I organised. I'll reveal it at the start of the concert.'

Taylor clapped her hands. ‘Oooh, I can't wait!'

Adam looked at his watch. ‘We'd better go get ready, darls. We're on in thirty minutes.'

‘Okey dokey, just let me go say g'day to Beryl and Walter, then I'll meet you out the back.'

Jay pulled Taylor into a quick cuddle, giving her bum a few tender taps as he planted a firm kiss on her lips. ‘You're going to look gorgeous on stage.'

Taylor grinned; Jay was forever giving her compliments, which was nice, seeing she felt like a giant balloon with her big pregnant belly and swollen feet.

Frank's booming voice broke their intimate moment as he came to stand by Patty, the looks between the two so obvious it was painful.

Jay chuckled, gesturing to Frank and Patty with his beer. ‘Oh, come on, you pair. We all know what's going on, so just relax and enjoy it. We're happy for you both.'

Patty and Frank shared an ‘oh bugger we've been busted' look. Then Patty shrugged at Frank and looked nervously from Jay to Taylor.

‘You're really okay with us being together?'

Taylor beamed. ‘Yep, we sure are. Go for it, Patty!'

Frank visibly relaxed his shoulders and gave a loud sigh. ‘Oh, thank Christ for that. We've been running around like a pair of naughty school kids, worried about what people would think. I mean, I was Greg's best mate and I didn't want to hurt you, Jay.'

Jay reached out and placed his hand on Frank's shoulder. ‘I'm glad you're there for Mum, it means a hell of a lot. And I wish you both the best.' He raised his eyebrows at his mum. ‘Is that why Frank stopped coming out, because you'd made a bit of a move on him?'

Patty grimaced. ‘He wanted to give me time, to make sure I wasn't just making a move because I was vulnerable.' She raised her eyebrows at Frank. ‘Which I wasn't, you big doofus.'

The ten thousand-strong crowd had come from all over Australia to support the fundraiser, and they clapped and hollered as Adam pulled the sheet from the statue. A two-metre metal sculpture of a country figure was revealed, its head bowed and a wide-brimmed hat resting against the figure's chest, the plaque beneath it reading in large bold lettering:
Driftwood, the town of heroes.

Taylor sucked in a breath as she stood to the side of the stage. The statue was beautiful, and so full of meaning. She felt so very blessed to have crossed paths with Adam Brand, not only because he was her country idol but because he was a truly beautiful soul. The bronze figure was all thanks to his own efforts and money. With the crowd noise eventually beginning to die down, he called her onstage. Announcing Taylor as the next big thing, he made her blush tremendously as once again the crowd worked themselves into a frenzy of clapping and hooting. Then, the lights and television cameras were positioned towards the stage as she and Adam took their places on the strategically placed stools, guitars in hand.

Taylor glanced out into the crowd. In the VIP area at the front stood Jay, beaming proudly at her, along with everyone so very dear to her: Grace and Tom, seeming comfortable in each other's company; Graham and Fang, who were halfway to being very sloshed; Patty and Frank, who were in each other's arms; Col and Faith, who had given Taylor her start at Driftwood; Jasmine and Wes, inspiring her with wolf whistles; and Beryl and Walter, sitting comfortably in their fold-out chairs. She smiled warmly, feeling immensely treasured by them all and treasuring them equally.