Hawkins' Grove

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  “Are you sure you won’t come with me?” asked Jim as he stood beside Lillian, who was staring out the front windows of the house, admiring the view as she often did.

  “I’m happy enough to wait here, Jim.”

  He leant down and kissed her softly on the lips. “I won’t be long.”

  Eighteen years had passed since he had first met Lillian Langley on the stage coach, an event that had changed his life. He flicked the reins, indicating to the horse to pick up the pace as it jerked the cart. In those eighteen years Lillian had never left the property, she had always been content with her own little world at Hawkins Grove.

  Not long after moving into the house, Lillian had given birth to a healthy baby girl. She named her Matilda after her mother. Three years later she had her second child, a boy, and they named him William. Lillian was not only an excellent mother, but she had a good head for business and between them they made the farm a working proposition. In five years they had brought the other half of the lease back off Clyde Henderson, and then they took out a mortgage to buy the property. Fine wool was like gold for the farmer and Jim was able to build up a herd equal to any in the country. After ten years of hard work, he had paid off the mortgage.

  Over the years it had been difficult for him to keep his temper under control for he had to continually rub shoulders with Robert Langley and Frank O’Connor. They were always at the sale yards, Robert dressed in his finery, and walking around as if he had something stuck up his backside, and Frank O’Connor, sullen, and ill dressed, always standing in the background. He and Frank O’Connor had once come close to blows but common sense prevailed and he had backed down.

  Today, he was going into town to meet Matilda who had been away in England. Lillian had wanted to further her daughter’s education so Jim arranged for Matilda to go to his sister’s place in London. While it had been a hard decision for them to send Matilda away, they both agreed it would be to her benefit. That was four years ago, Matilda would now be eighteen. Not a child anymore but a young woman in the prime of her life.

  She was coming in on the noon stage, as was the new Constable. Charlie Harrison was finally retiring. He had clung to the position for as long as he could, probably due to his military bearing and because he just liked to be in charge. Time stands still for no one. Old Abe had been gone eight years now, and Perkins, although as grouchy as ever, moved a lot slower. He had a young man in the store to help him now. He would have hated having to fork out the extra money for wages.

  All these years, he, along with Clyde, and Teresa Henderson, and Billy, had kept Lillian’s secret safely tucked away. But Jim was becoming increasingly worried about the future. Arthur Langley, Lillian’s father, was seriously ill, and supposedly didn’t have much longer to live. What would Lillian do when her father passed away? Then, there was Matilda and William to consider. Shouldn’t they be told the truth?