Buried In Between, page 1
Buried In Between
A Bellethorpe Novel
Leanne Lovegrove
Copyright © 2024 by Leanne Lovegrove
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
To Annie Seaton, thank you for your help, endless guidance and friendship. You are the reason I’m still writing.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter 1
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
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
About the Author
Bellethorpe Series
Also by Leanne Lovegrove
Prologue
March 2017
Claridge’s Hotel was the home of timeless elegance. What girl didn’t want to get married here? And now, she, Ava Montgomery, simple Australian girl, was fulfilling the dreams of women around the world.
Unlike the bedroom she’d dressed in that had been delicately decorated in powderpuff pink, the ballroom housing the wedding reception was a white extravaganza. Nothing overstated; everything was sophisticated and classy from the ornate crystal chandeliers suspended from the ceiling to the expensive silverware and crisp linen tablecloths. The only splash of colour was the greenery in amongst the large floral creations on each table.
Beauty and luxury was everywhere; in the high-couture gowns worn by the female guests; in the jewels sparkling at their necks and wrists and adorning their lobes. In the fine-cut linen suits dressing the men and their slick hair and European leather shoes. These guests were hand-picked, people with status like politicians and members of state from various countries, friends and allies. Then there were the gentlemen of tradition, elders who wore the turban-style headdress of white cotton matched with dark, trimmed beards lining their chins.
It was a wedding fit for the social pages. An event she was sure could have been replicated at the British Museum amongst the classical statutes of ancient Egypt. Who knew the museum held wedding celebrations? A fact unknown to Ava until she’d announced her engagement to her work colleagues as her head was buried in the catalogue of an ancient, recently discovered artefact. At the time she’d brushed it off as an interesting piece of information, but in amongst this pageantry she would have found strange comfort in the cool temperature of the gallery, and the calm and foreboding statutes of the ancient world. Ava thought of her favourite, the Mummy Mask, an Egyptian head dress covered in gold leaf dating back to 1500 BC. That cold-eyed stare had always captivated her. She’d see it again soon, for now, she searched the room for her parents and brother. Finding them, she smiled.
What must her family think of the acrobatic performers trawling the room, entertaining and indulging the guests; of the royal members they’d never heard of, the thirteen flower girls and boys who had traipsed down the aisle before her? And not to mention, the lobster and venison and top shelf champagne and liqueurs?
None of that mattered though. Claridge’s had greater meaning than the luxurious and spacious rooms accommodating the hundreds of guests with the finest and most expensive food and wine.
Yes, it was owned by her husband’s family, but it was also where they first met. The work function where she’d met Henry and fallen helplessly in love with his easy charm, intelligence and movie-star good looks. That was the night her life changed forever.
Chapter One
January 2023
A sleek black crow squawked in the tops of the nearby trees and Ava flinched, rubbed her arms. It was just a bird and shielding her eyes with her hand, she watched it take flight, wings flapping until she couldn’t see it any more in the haze of the horizon.
She’d forgotten about the endless open landscapes with their vast skies, the fresh country air, the unbearable dry heat and blinding glare of the outback Australian sun. It was both welcome and familiar and evoked feelings of home. Even though, these days Ava wasn’t sure where home was.
She closed her eyes as childhood memories engulfed her. If she listened hard enough, she could almost hear the happy squeals as she and her brother raced through grassy pastures. Of those long, bright summer days where they’d swim in the creek and race under the sprinkler and devour icy cold drinks, letting the liquid run down their chins. The carefree abandon of country life.
Watching her son sprint after another mob of kangaroos brought her back to the present. He’d been chasing them all morning with no luck, unaware that the wild creatures surrounding the house didn’t want to be caught. Here in the outcrop that was Bellethorpe, in remote Queensland, it seemed they had their own animal sanctuary, much to her son’s delight.
Ava placed her hand to her stomach and the nerves settled a little. She could relax now, they were finally here, were safe. Ismail raced away from the kangaroos and bounded up onto a large rectangular trampoline in the corner of the yard. His body flew into the air, legs dangling before bouncing again. Her tummy twisted as he fell. There was no safety netting around the edge but at five years of age and hardly the weight of a feather, she guessed he’d be unlikely to hurt himself. Plus, he was having so much fun. Her heart squeezed at his giggles of childhood delight.
Yes, she’d done the right thing. But still her hands trembled and she clutched them across her chest before releasing a sigh. Ava should be celebrating; she’d actually done it. Part of her wanted to scream with joy and jump on the tramp with Ish, another part wanted to fall into a heap and sob. But she wouldn’t do either of those things, she would simply revel in the fact they were here. The enduring weight upon her shoulders lessened.
It didn’t matter their new home was a far cry from the grandeur of the Cairo palace they’d come from. That fact didn’t bother Ava in the slightest. Never having grown up with such wealth and luxury, this, here, felt normal. A proper family home. Or the beginnings of one.
Yes, the house needed work. Much tender love and care but it was still grand in a traditional, old-style way. Quintessentially Australian, the building was raised above the ground with timber battens to encourage airflow and cool breezes; the house they now called home had wide sprawling decks along each side and back, prominent exterior staircases and beautiful eaves and gables hidden under the dirt of years of age. The red tin roof was rusted and contrasted against the deep blue of the sky.
Nestled amongst acres of land, the house was built on a low grass crest. The closest trees were far enough away to be safe in a bushfire, but close enough for beauty and serenity. It was habitable until she could make the place their own but most importantly, it was private, on the outskirts of town with its secure gate and long drive to avoid prying eyes. Close enough for civilisation, yet far enough to be isolated.
The house was indeed a grand old lady that deserved love and Ava was just the person to deliver the attention it needed. A project would keep her busy and focused on their new life.
Unlocking her arms, she brought her hand back to her side and caught the sparkle of the large blue topaz ring on her wedding finger. Instinctively, she twirled it back and forth. She’d lost weight; she hadn’t been able to loop the ring around her finger before. Practising, she pulled it off, the gold sliding easily over her knuckle. Her finger felt bare after the heaviness of the jewellery. Gosh, she loved that ring. But it caused a pain deep in her chest to open, like a chasm of hurt, filling up with the past. Of where she was now, of where they’d come from. Of love lost.
The sudden demise of her marriage still caught her by surprise. Something she’d had no time to process, instead she’d been occupied with fleeing to safety.
But to avoid the painful past welling up each time she saw it, the ring had to come off. Ava needed to learn to compartmentalise that part of her life and move on. Signifying an ending and a new beginning. Removing the ring would help. Plus, such an extravagant ornament was bound to catch everyone’s attention, and that would lead to questions.
There’d been no qualms about selling her jewellery collection, but this one, her engagement ring, that was different, harder to part with. She resolved to worry about that later and pocketed it, no prevarication. She’d hide it somewhere safe in the house, until perhaps it might need to be sold, too. For now, the commitment to action made her feel lighter.
Ava breathed in deeply and focused on the present. The beauty of where she stood lifted her spirits. They’d be okay. There was a lot to do but, they’d do it.
The rumble of a car engine caught her attention. She sidestepped quickly and stood on kangaroo poo. Luckily the droppings had hardened, but the smell still wafted up from her expensive leather flats
The trampoline was empty. Where was he? Her eyes skittered to the back verandah; he wasn’t there. Frantically her gaze raked the lawn and along the side path. A few kangaroos rested in the shade of bushes and low-lying trees but she couldn’t see her son. Her heart thumped painfully. The vehicle inched closer; she could see it now following the fence line.
A bolt of blue darted into her peripheral vision. And then she heard that laugh she loved so much. Ismail whizzed out from under the trampoline, coming out the other side. She shot forward until she was by his side, only metres from the fence. The ute rumbled to a stop, the door opened and a man climbed out. His lips were moving and reciting what sounded strangely like poetry. He slammed the door shut and went around to the tray of his ute and started extracting tools. A broad-brimmed hat shaded his face. Dirt-smudged light blue jeans hugged tall and lean legs matched with a long-sleeved green shirt fitting snugly across very broad shoulders.
Ava clutched Ismail by her side; he wriggled so she gripped tighter.
‘Mumma,’ he whined.
‘Shush.’
The man looked up. His face was ruggedly handsome in a country sort of way, his skin bronzed by the sun with a short beard of a few days’ growth at most. She was just close enough to see the gold fleck in his eyes but they held a burning, faraway look in them. A sadness. His jaw tensed as he considered her while his forehead creased into a frown. Ava swallowed.
Had they been discovered already?
What rhymed with woman? Beautiful exotic dark-haired woman with arched eyebrows and a perfectly heart-shaped angelic face? No, that wasn’t what he was thinking, that was what he was seeing. Damn it. Noah Hawthorn wracked his brain for the sentence he’d been constructing, the words running around the edges of his mouth. He’d almost had it and now it was gone. Off to the ether. Perhaps forever forgotten.
In the grounds of the old homestead stood a woman and a child. Her face was pale; the pallor exaggerated by the cascading jet-black, locks flowing past her shoulders. She was stunning, striking with her olive skin, slim waist and long legs shown off by her short summer dress. Too beautiful to be here. A city girl, he knew one straight away. It wasn’t hard to tell, it was the grooming and polish you didn’t see on country folk. The lack of fatigue, and wear and tear, the cleanness and usually, the confidence in their stance. Okay, oddly, this woman didn’t have the self-assuredness.
Pleasure zoomed through Noah at the vision before him. She sure was worthy of a poem. But no time for that. He ignored the blissful sensation making his body pulse and shoved his equipment back onto the tray and cleared his throat. It was an invitation for her to explain. She didn’t. Instead, she appeared as if she’d seen a ghost. He turned on the spot. Was there a snake he hadn’t seen? A wild pig? Something to make her fearful? It couldn’t be him, surely? And anyway, she was on his land.
‘Um, not sure if you’re aware but you’re trespassing,’ he finally said.
‘I’m sorry?’ Her arm dropped from securing the boy tightly to her side and the self-conviction that had been lacking, rose to the fore.
In a flash, his kelpie, Otis, jumped down from the tray and raced forwards before rising on his fore legs and placing large paws on the boy’s tiny chest and licking his face. The boy squealed in delight until his mother tugged him away and behind her, partially hiding him.
Bit late for that.
‘Otis,’ Noah commanded the dog who obediently returned to his side to receive a neck rub. ‘Sorry, mate,’ he spoke to the boy, ‘he won’t hurt you; he gets a bit excited at meeting new people.’ Noah held up his palm for a high-five in apology that the boy exaggeratedly clapped.
‘This is private property and you shouldn’t be here.’ He crossed his arms in front of his chest as he addressed the woman again. ‘But if you leave now there won’t be any trouble.’ He reached for his tools, dismissing her and ready to get on with the job.
‘I’m terribly sorry for the inconvenience, but you’re mistaken. So, if you wouldn’t mind leaving, that would be great.’ The woman matched his crossed-arm stance.
‘Look, I’m sorry you’re confused, but this ain’t no tourist attraction so, I’d really appreciate you taking off. I need to fix this fence.’
‘Why are you fixing my fence?’
‘I thought we’d established that. It’s my fence.’ Something about this felt very wrong.
‘Actually, it’s my fence, my house.’ She spread her arms wide. ‘My land and you are the one trespassing. So, unless you want me to telephone the police, I suggest you leave.’
The police? Definitely a city chick. The police around here wouldn’t be interested in this squabble.
‘What are you talking about?’
‘I purchased this house and land a month ago. We’ve just moved in.’
Noah dropped the hammer he’d been holding. It made a loud clunk as it hit the bottom of the tray and he gripped the edge for support. ‘No, that’s impossible. There’s been a mistake. Who sold it to you?’
They both turned at the sound of another vehicle.
‘He did,’ Ava said and pointed as soon as she saw Mac Turner alight from his fancy un-countrylike BMW advertising Bellethorpe Property Real Estate.
Mac walked the short distance from the end of the driveway to the fence. Noah used the time to take deep breaths to cool his rising temperature. This had to be a silly blunder but he was confident Mac would sort it out.
‘Noah,’ Mac offered him a curt nod and then nodded towards the woman. ‘See you’ve met. I’m just dropping in to check our new resident is settling in okay.’
Ava spoke first. ‘Can you please explain to … to this gentleman that I’m the new owner of this property.’
Mac alternated his gaze between the two of them.
‘Mac, we had a deal. You promised me. I’ve been saving up, wasn’t going to be long now.’
‘Look, Noah, sure. It was agreed you could have the place if no one else was interested. Except, Ava here was interested and paid the asking price with no negotiations. Quick sale, no conditions, no more waiting. You have to understand the owner has waited long enough, they wanted to get rid of the property.’
The woman was nodding, vindicated, he guessed.
‘Mac, we’re mates. That’s a low blow…’ He hung his head, unable to look at the trio.
It was suddenly hot. Noah felt the prickle on his bare neck where the rays of sun hit, heard the birds too loud in the treetops and his dreams dropping into a puddle at his feet. Looking at the old house, it wasn’t much, but he’d imagined how it could be renovated into the perfect family home. The home that might have saved his marriage; instead, now, a home for him and his daughter, for their future. Except those dreams were being trodden on, squashed by a city slicker, no less.
‘Good luck fixing the fence.’ He strode back to the driver’s door, slammed it shut and revved the engine before driving away and leaving dust in his wake.
Chapter Two
‘I’ll have two punnets of strawberries please.’
‘Oh, hello. Are you visiting for the weekend?’
Ava smiled in reply as the lady wearing a bright pink tee bagged up her goodies. ‘No, we’ve just moved here.’
The lady’s face lit up. ‘Well, that’s fabulous. Welcome to Bellethorpe. I’m Bridie Finch of Finch Berry Farm. I hope you love the strawberries. We’re here at the markets every Saturday morning along with the other locals selling their fruit and veg.’
