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The Lawson Sisters Page 9


  Another door beckoned at the end of the hallway. How many times as a child had she run down that hallway and flung open the door? When a thunderstorm scared her at night, her parents were always there to make her feel better. On Christmas morning and on birthdays they were always ready with a smile and a present. Standing alone in the middle of the room, she felt the loss of her parents as keenly as she had all those years ago.

  A dark timber wardrobe stood in one corner, and alongside it the antique dressing table with its big mirror was ready to catch the light that would stream through the window in the morning, if only the window was not darkened with dust and cobwebs. Kayla crossed to her mother’s dressing table. The top was bare, but when she slid open a drawer she saw a familiar carved wooden box. She lifted it out and opened it. Lying on the velvet interior, her mother’s rings had lost their shine. The gold was dull and the stones barely reflected any light.

  Kayla began to cry. She wondered if Liz ever came up to this room. If she ever stood here surrounded by memories and cried.

  ‘Kayla, sweetie …’ Ken burst through the door.

  Kayla dashed away the tears. ‘Yeah?’

  ‘What’s wrong?’ Ken frowned. ‘Are you all right?’

  ‘Yeah. It’s just sad memories, that’s all.’

  ‘Sorry to disturb you, but I wanted to ask … that hill I can see from the window, with the single tree on top? I was wondering if it’s worth going up there. It should be a nice view of the homestead.’

  Kayla put her hands into the pocket of her jeans so Ken wouldn’t see that they were shaking. ‘I don’t think so. It’s not that good.’

  ‘Okay. Well, I’m moving down to the old dining room now.’

  ‘Sure. Right behind you.’

  After Ken left, Kayla brushed a few of the cobwebs from the window and looked towards the hill. She couldn’t see the old graveyard and the two newer crosses, but she didn’t have to. She knew they were there.

  She took three deep breaths as she brought her emotions under control. And as she did, she made a decision. Willowbrook wasn’t the only thing in danger of being lost. Everything about the place suggested Liz was pretty lost too. And despite everything, she loved her sister even more than she loved her childhood home.

  Kayla didn’t see Liz again until the end of the day. The convoy of vehicles had just set off along the gravel road to the highway when Liz appeared from the direction of the stables.

  The two of them stood by the silent old fountain as the last dust from the convoy of vehicles settled. Silence returned to Willowbrook. There was the occasional noise from the direction of the stables, where the horses were already bedded down for the night. One by one, the early evening stars began to appear in the darkening velvet sky. Kayla recognised what she was feeling. Peace and a sense of belonging. A sense of home.

  ‘You’ll receive payment in a few days,’ she said at last. ‘If you have any questions, drop me an email.’

  ‘All right.’

  ‘How do you feel now about the idea of using Willowbrook as a venue?’

  ‘Kayla, this has helped, I’m not going to deny it. But this is my home and I don’t want this sort of disruption every bloody weekend. I will find another way.’

  ‘But look around you. Everything is as you wanted it to be. Nothing has changed except you’ll be able to pay a couple of bills. Maybe feed the horses for another month. Surely you can see now that this is the way out of the hole you’re in? Wedding venues make money. And Pascale’s investment will refurbish the place before it starts to fall apart around your ears.’

  ‘No. I don’t want interference in my home and my business.’

  Kayla didn’t even pause to think about the next step. She didn’t want to do it, but she had no choice. She started speaking, before her courage failed her. ‘Liz, this is not just your decision to make. These last couple of days have made me realise I want to save Willowbrook too. And I will. Are you going to help me? If not, will you at least not get in my way?’

  ‘You can’t do that.’

  ‘I can. This is my home too. I legally own half of it. The only way you can stop me is to take me to court, and you haven’t got the money to do that. But I don’t want it to be like that. I want us to work together. Please, Liz. Can’t you see it’s the best thing for Willowbrook?’

  Kayla watched the emotions flicker across her sister’s face. Then Liz seemed to harden.

  ‘Do what you want. You always have,’ she said through gritted teeth.

  The injustice of the comment was like a steel blade in her guts. ‘No, I haven’t. I’ve never done what I wanted. It was all about you, Liz, after they died. You sent me away to boarding school and I went. You told me I had to study at university—learn how to run a business—so I did. And not once did you stop to think what I wanted. What I needed.’

  ‘This place paid for that school and it paid for that university education. Look at you, in your fancy clothes and your expensive shoes. Willowbrook money made you what you are today, with your arty friends and your fancy car. Don’t you ever forget that.’

  ‘Oh, Liz. I will never forget what you did to me.’

  Kayla couldn’t bear to look at her sister for one second longer. She spun on her heel, got into her car and started the engine.

  As she drove away, she could see Liz staring after her through the long twilight. She wondered if her sister even realised that it wasn’t just Willowbrook that needed help.

  CHAPTER

  20

  There was something not quite right about the house. Liz wasn’t exactly sure what it was, but she certainly knew who to blame: that photographer and the crew and the models who had invaded her space and changed things. She blamed Kayla too. Kayla had assured her that the house would not be affected in any way and the crew would put everything back exactly the same after the shoot. They’d all been gone for two days, but Willowbrook still didn’t feel right. Something had changed, and she just couldn’t put her finger on it.

  Restlessly she left the kitchen and walked into the formal dining room. The room hadn’t been used in years, not since her parents last used it. Liz stepped close to the beautiful mahogany table and ran her fingers along the polished surface.

  The polished surface?

  Now she knew what had changed. She left the dining room and walked through the house, taking careful note of the state of every room. The photo crew had indeed cleaned up after themselves. They had cleaned the house better than it had been cleaned in … forever. She should be angry, but she wasn’t. She was embarrassed and ashamed. Was this how people now saw her father’s legacy? Was this how Kayla saw her sister—a lonely woman living in a dusty and unkempt reminder of the past?

  This wasn’t her. At least, it hadn’t been her. She’d always been the one full of energy. The one who had wanted everything done immediately and properly and taken pride in everything she did. What would her parents say if they saw her now? If they saw the home they had all loved in such a sad state?

  Liz returned to the kitchen and the pile of mail she had collected from the mailbox out by the road earlier that day. When the horses were all safely bedded down, she spent her evenings reading the mail and keeping the stud records and accounts. It filled the hours before she fell asleep in the bed on the other side of her office. She carried the mail into her office and flicked through the envelopes, pulling out the bills and setting them to one side. After a moment’s indecision, she turned her computer on. Tempting as it was to put off dealing with her bills, it wouldn’t help. An alert prompted her to open her email, where she found a message from Kayla with an attachment titled ‘Willowbrook Account’. The top of the document featured an orange blossom surrounded by the words Elite Weddings. The logo suited Kayla perfectly. Liz glanced at the number at the bottom of the page. She blinked in shock and read the document carefully, wondering if there was a mistake. It appeared not. When she’d agreed to the photo shoot, she’d hoped for one, maybe two, thousand do
llars in payment. Enough to take care of the most pressing bills. This was a lot more. The accompanying email said the money would be in her account within a week.

  Still feeling a little stunned, Liz found her most pressing bills, the ones that were printed in red. Then she set aside a payment for the bank. It felt so good to say yes, that bill is covered. But that feeling came to an end far too soon when the money ran out.

  Liz sat back in her chair and looked at the screen in front of her. The accounts looked so much better than they had just a week ago, but she wasn’t out of the woods. Not by a long shot. At best the photo shoot had kept her afloat for maybe two months. She was still going to have to sell some stock. She was still going to have to train outside horses while she also worked to make Deimos a profitable stud stallion. And even then, there was only the slimmest possibility she could make it work. Not to mention the years it would take to put Willowbrook back on a sound footing.

  She dropped her head into her hands and allowed the reality of her position to sink in. She was in trouble and there was no way out.

  Unless …

  She reached for the phone. Kayla answered on the third ring.

  ‘I got your statement for the photo shoot today,’ Liz said with no preamble. ‘It was a lot more money than I expected.’

  ‘That’s good.’

  ‘Yeah. It’s taken some of the pressure off. Thank you.’

  ‘I was glad to help out. Willowbrook is my childhood home too. I don’t want it lost any more than you do.’

  Liz heard criticism and anger in every word.

  ‘Have you thought any more about Pascale’s proposal?’ Kayla asked.

  Liz took a deep breath. It was too late now to back out. ‘Yes. I have. I want to see just what is involved and understand it all better before I commit to anything.’

  There was a moment of silence. Liz could imagine the shocked look on Kayla’s face.

  ‘Sure. That’s great. Why don’t you come to one of our weddings and have a look? We can talk through what we would want to do. Then Pascale and you can sort out the contractual and commercial details.’

  ‘You want me to come to Sydney?’ Liz hadn’t considered that.

  ‘You can stay with me, so you won’t have to worry about a hotel or getting about or whatever.’

  ‘But I can’t be away for more than a day. The horses—’

  ‘Liz.’ Kayla spoke slowly as if talking to a child. ‘There isn’t any other way for you to really see everything you need to see. Surely you can find someone to take care of Willowbrook for a day and a night? Ask Mitch. He’d be more than happy to help.’

  Asking Mitch was possibly the only thing Liz wanted to do even less than she wanted to go to Sydney.

  ‘This weekend won’t work, but we have the perfect wedding for you to see next Saturday,’ Kayla continued. ‘It’s an outdoor wedding in the grounds of a historic home, almost exactly the sort of thing we would look at doing at Willowbrook. Why don’t you come down for that?’

  ‘All right.’ There, she’d said it. She was committed now.

  ‘Great. I’ll talk to Pascale in the morning. Give her a chance to think about the financials for Willowbrook. I’ll give you a call in a couple of days.’

  ‘All right. And Kayla … thanks. I mean it.’

  ‘I know you do.’ With a click her sister was gone.

  Liz got to her feet and left the office. There would be no more work for her tonight. She slid on her boots and set off for the hill overlooking the house. The bright moon lit the landscape around her, but her feet knew the way; she’d taken this path many, many times before. When she reached the top of the hill, she sought out her usual position, sitting almost between the two crosses. From there she could reach out and touch them or, when she was really struggling to cope, as she was now, she could lean against the hard stone of the cross that bore her father’s name. It wasn’t the same as leaning into his warm, strong chest when she was a child but it was all she had now.

  She stared out across the valley and caught a glimmer of light from across the creek. The old church where her parents had married, and where Mitch now lived. Was he alone too? She didn’t spend much time socialising, there wasn’t enough time in her life for that. But Scone was a small place and the horse community was even smaller. At shows and sales and events, she sometimes heard the women talking about Mitch, about how attractive he was. How nice. About dating him. Which was fine. Really. She had no claim on Mitch any more. Nor he on her.

  ‘I’m going to have to ask Mitch for help,’ she said to the night air. ‘I don’t know why you felt the way you did, Dad. I always thought you liked him. I know you thought he was a good horseman. I don’t understand why you didn’t want us …’ Her voice trailed off as the crushing guilt swept over her. Even after so many years, it hurt too much to say the words.

  ‘I’m sorry for what happened that day, Dad. More sorry than you will ever know. But I do have to ask him for help. I can’t do this alone, and there isn’t anyone else.’

  That thought hurt too.

  Liz closed her eyes and leaned against the cold stone. She gave herself up to her memories, as all around her the night wrapped Willowbrook in its gentle caress.

  CHAPTER

  21

  The girl is running across the showground, a winner’s ribbon clutched in her hand. She’s looking for her best friend, to tell him all about the hunter class she’s just won. She’s a little surprised and maybe even annoyed that he wasn’t there to watch her and cheer her on. But the show is always a busy time for everyone. She’s sure he has a good excuse.

  Lizzie slows to a walk as she approaches a long line of stables, filled with horses from the biggest Australian Stock Horse stud in the area. The heads looking over the doors are handsome and refined. Almost every one is a champion. She takes great pride in knowing that none of them has ever beaten her father and Apollo. They never will, either, she’s sure of it. Mitch’s father works on the stud as a trainer and Mitch rides the young horses in competitions. His youth and light weight work to the stud’s advantage. In return, Mitch gets to ride some of the best horses in the country. He’ll be with the young gelding he’s been riding for a year now. They’ve done well in this show, and she knows they have one event still to come today. She’s so proud of Mitch and now that her events are all done, she’ll definitely be there to watch him compete.

  Raised voices reach her long before she gets to the right stall. She stops, frowning. She recognises one of the voices. She’s never known Mitch to raise his voice around a horse before. People don’t normally fight around the horses, especially during competitions, because loud voices and sudden movements disturb them. The other voice is familiar too—it’s his father’s. Mitch and his father usually get along almost as well as Lizzie and her dad. Something is very wrong.

  She walks silently along the row of stalls. The voices are coming from the gelding’s stall.

  ‘Come on, Dad. He’s doing great now. Look at his performance yesterday. Give me another year with him. Please!’

  ‘Mitch, I can’t. The boss is choosing horses for the next sale. Baz is ready to be sold. There’s no point in keeping him and he’ll bring a good price. Sure, we’d get a bit more for him next year, but not enough to cover a year’s costs.’

  ‘But in another year, I’ll make him a champion. I know I will.’

  ‘You could, Mitch. But that doesn’t change anything. He’s not your horse. Or mine. If the boss decides to sell him, then he’s going to be sold and there’s nothing you can do. Or me either, for that matter.’

  ‘Then I’ll buy him. If you lend me the money, I’ll pay you back. Honestly. I’ll find work and pay you back every cent.’

  ‘I’m sorry, Mitch. If I could afford to buy him for you, I would. But I can’t. There’ll be other colts for you to train. Better ones.’

  ‘It’s not fair!’

  Lizzie can hear the break in Mitch’s voice. She steps forward, want
ing to help him, or perhaps comfort him. The stable door opens and Mitch stumbles out. He doesn’t see her and pushes his way through the crowd. Lizzie follows. Mitch leaves the showground and crosses the road into the cemetery. Just inside the gates, there’s a small brick building, which Mitch ducks behind, hiding from the road and the showgrounds and Lizzie. She starts to run and when she gets there, she sees him sitting on the grass, leaning against the brick wall, his face in his hands. It’s obvious that he’s crying. Lizzie is shocked. She’s never seen Mitch cry before. She drops to the ground beside him, instinctively wrapping an arm around him.

  ‘Did you hear?’

  She nods.

  ‘How can he do that? Just take Baz away from me like that.’

  She doesn’t answer. She knows nothing she can say will take the hurt away. Instead, she tightens her arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer to her.

  ‘He’s the first horse I ever trained. He was mine right from the first time he had a saddle on his back. No one but me has ever ridden him. And now they’re going to sell him. They won’t care who buys him or how they’re going to treat him. All they care about is the money.’

  She holds him tightly, wishing she could take away some of the pain.

  ‘I’ll never forget him,’ Mitch vows.

  Lizzie knows exactly how he feels. You never forget the first horse that touches your heart. She still has Tasha, the grey pony she outgrew years ago. Tasha is old now, but Lizzie visits her every day and takes her a treat.

  Mitch looks at Lizzie. The tears have stopped now, but his dark brown eyes shine with the trace of them. Or perhaps with something else. His shoulders cease shaking, and his arm wraps around her. Without thinking, Lizzie leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. It is an automatic action, fuelled only by her love for him.