Second Chance Family, page 1
About the Book
Callie Madden, a grieving widow and single mother of three, is stunned to learn she’s inherited one half of Hawkridge, a beautiful acreage in the Misty Mountains of Far North Queensland.
A potential family scandal surrounds the reasons for this bequest and there are additional complications. Callie is to share the inheritance with Ben Galbraith, a Scotsman who’d helped Hawkridge’s owner in his final years. Also, the property can’t be sold for twelve months.
Callie’s life is in Townsville with her teenage twin daughters and six-year-old son. Ben plans to return to Scotland. How can they negotiate an entire year of caring for Hawkridge? And as they try to work together, is there more at stake than the property’s future?
Set on the picturesque hinterland of Australia’s tropical far north, this is a moving and heartwarming story about taking chances and making the most of the unexpected opportunities life throws your way.
Contents
Cover
About the Book
Title Page
Dedication
Prologue
July
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
December
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
April
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
June
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
December
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Acknowledgements
Also by Barbara Hannay
Imprint
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For Sophie and Milla
PROLOGUE
Nora couldn’t quite believe the moment had finally arrived. She’d been waiting so long, waiting with a mix of hope, joy and worry. But now, after all those months of anticipation, she could only flop back onto the pillows, exhausted, closing her eyes against the glare of the overhead lights.
It was over. No more pain. No more grunting and groaning. No more impossible pushing. Her baby was here, safely delivered. She had heard the reassuring wail, had glimpsed the waving little arms.
‘Here’s your baby, Nora. You have a strong, healthy little boy.’
At this, she rallied, launching herself upwards again, eager and desperately curious. And there he was. Her baby. Her little boy, kicking his legs, just as he’d been doing inside her for so many months.
No longer wailing, he lay quietly now. Tiny, with wet and bloodied hair, a scrunched-up face, a fat tummy and shiny, damp reddish-purple skin. But unmistakably, a healthy little male.
‘Well done, darling! What a champion!’
This was her husband’s voice. Nora wasn’t sure if Keith was referring to herself or the baby as the champion, but it didn’t matter. Keith had been right by her side all through her labour, comforting her, cheering her on, manfully copping her outbursts of temper. Now, as he smiled down at her and gave her hand a loving squeeze, she saw that he was blinking tears.
‘Okay, it’s time to get you and your bub tidied up,’ announced Dr Morris. ‘Keith, you can go with the nurse and watch your son being weighed and bathed.’
Nora’s exhaustion reclaimed her and she closed her eyes, once more slumping back onto the pillows, grateful that, for the moment at least, her work was done.
She was aware of murmuring voices, the faint rattle of a trolley with medical equipment, but she was too tired, or possibly too drugged, to check what was happening. Perhaps she drifted off. The next time she opened her eyes, she was covered by a clean white cotton blanket and a nurse was holding her baby boy wrapped in a blue bunny rug.
‘He’s scrubbed up beautifully,’ the nurse told her with a grin.
‘And he weighed in at a healthy 3.5 kilos,’ added Keith. ‘That’s seven pounds, seven ounces in the old money.’
Now the nurse crossed the delivery room to where Nora lay. ‘Here you are, Mum. I’m sure you’d like to hold your little man.’
The warm bundle was placed into Nora’s arms. And oh, my goodness, her baby was beautiful. Even though his eyes were tightly closed and his face was a little puffy, his skin was no longer red and shiny, but soft peaches-and-cream perfection. Such sweet little ears, such a cute, pert nose and rosebud mouth.
Gently, Nora lifted the bunny rug back from his face to take a closer look, and that was when she saw the fuzz of her son’s hair, as soft and fluffy as the down of a newly hatched duckling. And glowing an unmistakably bright ginger-red.
She gasped, flashed a frantic glance up to Keith and saw the answering mix of knowledge and dismay in his eyes.
For so many months they’d waited with fingers crossed. Now, at long last, their nervous question had been resolved, but this was not the answer they’d hoped for.
July
CHAPTER ONE
Callie was running late. Again. This afternoon’s assignment, a photoshoot for a pottery artist’s new website, had gone way over schedule. She’d been sure to allow herself plenty of time for travelling to the far side of Townsville and back again, but every stage of this job had stretched far longer than it should have, thanks to a fussy and cantankerous client.
Flossie Heatherington had requested photographs in her pottery studio, by her kiln and in her garden. She’d made it clear that she wanted to pose with particular pottery pieces, but Callie hadn’t imagined that Flossie would also insist on changing her outfits to accompany each new location. Then, with each change of clothes, there’d been a need to redo her hair and touch up her makeup.
Now, thank heavens, the job was finally finished, but it was almost five o’clock and Callie still had to pick up her kids. Luckily, another school mum had offered to transport Grace to her youth orchestra rehearsal and then home again. But Joey was still at after-school care and Jenna was at the hairdresser’s, where she’d been instructed to wait until Callie arrived to pay the bill.
The Happy Snippers salon in Pimlico closed at five, so Callie needed to head there first. She sent Jenna a quick text to let her know she was definitely on her way. Then, as she headed across town, praying she didn’t cop too many red lights, she ran through a mental checklist of tasks still ahead of her this evening.
Ideally, she would get these photos edited, but before she could even think about that, there were the usual household chores – the endless piles of laundry, checking that the girls did their homework properly, reading Joey his bedtime story. And, of course, her family’s first priority: dinner.
She didn’t have anything planned and it would be tempting to grab a pizza, or throw together a quick pasta bake. The kids would love either of those options, but Callie tried to reserve such treats for Friday nights. A conscientious single mum, she endeavoured to provide something more nutritious on school nights.
Perhaps she should grab a cooked chook and a bag of salad from the supermarket? Or stir-fry ingredients ready to throw in the wok?
At least the supermarket would still be open, but as Callie pulled up outside the Happy Snippers, she noticed the advertising signage that usually stood on the footpath had already been taken in. The lighting inside also seemed rather dim, and as she pushed open the heavy glass door, the salon looked empty.
Where was her daughter?
‘Hello?’ Her voice held a nervous quiver, an echo of the sudden tremor in her chest. She took a few steps forward. ‘Jenna? Hello?’ she called again a little louder.
To her relief, Daphne, the business’s owner, appeared in the doorway at the back of the salon. She was smiling and drying her hands with a small towel.
‘Callie, hello. Our apprentice had to rush off early today and I’ve just been washing up the combs and scissors.’
‘I’m sorry I’m late,’ Callie said. ‘I was held up on a job, but I was expecting Jenna would still be here.’
Daphne frowned. She was an older woman, probably close to sixty, with shoulder-length curly grey hair and shiny dark eyes. These days she rarely spent long hours at the salon. Mostly she looked after the books, and a team of younger women took care of the customers’ hair.
‘Jenna left at least fifteen minutes ago,’ Daphne said, ‘maybe more.’ Then, after a careful pause, ‘I definitely saw her heading off. She was with her friend.’
Quickly now, Callie double-checked her phone, but Jenna hadn’t responded to the last text she’d sent. ‘Oh, well,’ she said, trying to sound calm, while managing a poor attempt to smile, ‘I’d better fix you up for her trim.’
‘Sure. I know Kat looked after Jenna’s hair today. I’ll just have to check.’ Daphne went to the computer at the front desk, pushing her green and aqua framed spectacles up the bony bridge of her nose as she scrolled and squinted at the screen. ‘Ah, yes,’ she said at last, but then she named a figure that sent fresh shockwaves through Callie.
‘Are you sure? That seems much more expensive than usual. Jenna was only getting a trim.’
Now Daphne pulled a face that was a complicated mix of surprise and apology. ‘I believe Jenna went for a new style today – a short bob.’
‘A bob?’ Callie squeaked. ‘Tell me you’re joking.’ Her identical twin daughters both had lovely long auburn hair, reaching halfway down their backs.
Daphne shook her head. ‘No, I know Jenna definitely went for a bob today. And then, there were the blonde streaks as well.’
Blonde? ‘No, that can’t be right,’ Callie cried, appalled. ‘Are you sure you haven’t mixed Jenna up with some other girl?’
Daphne looked genuinely concerned now. She frowned and gnawed at her lower lip. ‘You mean she didn’t discuss this with you first? I was here all afternoon, Callie, and I heard her assuring Kat that you were fine about the changes.’
Did she now? The little minx.
‘I see,’ Callie said tightly, trying not to sound as deeply put out as she felt.
‘At least Jenna didn’t dye her hair purple or green.’ Daphne smiled coyly as she said this, but her attempt at humour was lost on Callie.
‘If she’d gone for bright colours she wouldn’t be allowed back at school,’ she responded dryly, and then promptly wondered if perhaps she should be grateful for small mercies. Grim-faced and still seething at this turn of events, she opened her phone and selected the banking app. ‘I’d better pay you.’
The EFTPOS screen was ready and waiting, and the transaction was quickly approved, while Callie’s stomach clenched at the sudden dip in her balance.
‘Thanks, Callie.’ Daphne smiled politely. ‘Would you like a receipt?’
Callie nodded and tucked the slip of paper into her pocket. First thing when she got home, she’d be showing this receipt to her daughter and asking for a ‘please explain’.
But her more immediate task was to collect Joey without delay. Normally, Nora and Keith, her parents-in-law, would collect her little man after school if she was busy, but they were currently away on a caravanning trip in New South Wales, and Callie knew Joey would be tired and possibly anxious by now.
Indeed, there were very few cars parked outside his school and no children to be seen in the playground. When Callie made her way into the room attached to the library where most of the after-school care took place, only three children were left. Two girls in a corner seemed to be doing their homework. Joey was alone at the Lego table, somewhat disconsolately building a spaceship.
‘Mum.’ He seemed to sag with relief when he saw her.
‘Hey there, Joey. I’m sorry I’m so late.’
He gave her a resigned little smile, then quickly abandoned his Lego and went to collect his schoolbag and say goodbye to Michelle, the woman in charge.
‘He was getting a bit worried.’ Michelle lifted her eyebrows as if to add emphasis to this message.
Callie gave an apologetic nod. Felt guilty. Parents were supposed to worry about their children, not the other way round. She slipped an arm around her little boy’s shoulders and drew him against her hip for a hug.
When they were outside and she was starting up the car, she said, ‘Would you like to choose dinner tonight?’
Joey didn’t need long to think. ‘Sausages?’
Callie grinned. ‘Of course.’ Her boy would eat sausages every night if he could.
At the supermarket, she bought the sausages, a bag of salad and a packet of frozen chips, fruit for tomorrow’s school lunches, plus one of Joey’s favourite nutty chocolate bars.
‘I’m spoiling you to say sorry for being late,’ she told him, but she knew this excuse was only partly true. She’d always had a super-soft spot for her son, and this had only deepened after the poor little guy had become fatherless.
She and Mitch had never planned to have another baby after the girls. But somehow, seven years after they’d weathered the exhausting experience of caring for twin daughters – as fretful babies, as naughty toddlers and mischievous little preschoolers – they’d emerged, on the other side, so to speak, and Mitch had changed his mind.
His surprising suggestion had come when he and Callie were dining on the deck at the C Bar on their wedding anniversary, looking out at the sea and enjoying a beautiful evening, with a gentle breeze and tropical waters shimmering in the moonlight. The sky overhead had glittered with an extravaganza of stars and Mitch had said, out of the blue . . .
‘Wouldn’t you like one more?’
At first Callie had thought he was asking if she wanted another drink. But no, he wanted a baby.
She’d been somewhat taken aback. The girls were at school by then and her photography business was beginning to build, but she was also thirty-four, so if she was going to have another baby, it would be best to do so sooner rather than later.
Mitch had been deliriously happy when she’d somewhat reluctantly agreed and then, when Joey was born, she’d fallen in baby love all over again. Mitch had been so chuffed to have a son, he’d gone right out and bought his boy a cute little infant jersey with the North Queensland Cowboys logo on it.
But such memories were never helpful.
Damn it, Mitch. I’m still not sure I’ll ever manage without you.
A fit and apparently healthy man in his late thirties was not supposed to drop dead while he was out enjoying an early Saturday morning jog. It hadn’t helped that this tragedy had happened in the middle of a global pandemic, when the whole world was already on edge.
Grace and Jenna were only ten when their father had left for that morning run, then suffered a heart attack and never come home. Joey was only two. The boy kept a photo of Mitch beside his bed, but he didn’t really remember his daddy.
Nevertheless, it was the children who’d kept Callie going in the dark days that had followed Mitch’s death. But now, four years later, she still had too many days when she doubted her ability to cope on her own. The twins had turned into typical teenagers – fourteen going on thirty. Joey was still a sweetheart – mostly – but didn’t every little boy need a male role model?
Meanwhile, Callie found herself so busy trying to juggle her job and manage the family, she had no time for any version of a social life. Sure, Nora and Keith would have been happy to babysit if Callie had asked them, but all her friends were in steady relationships and she hated feeling like a fifth wheel.
She missed Mitch. Oh, dear heaven, she missed him, and not only on afternoons like this one, when she felt stretched to her limits. Every morning, every day, every evening . . . she missed him. Missed his smile, missed the simple knowledge that he was there. In her world. Her one and only.
