Driftwood
Authors: Mandy Magro
by Mandy Magro
First and foremost, a big cheers to my wonderful publishers, Harlequin Australia. I cannot thank you enough for believing in
Driftwood
. I feel extremely blessed to be part of such a talented, supportive and caring team. And to Adam Brand, for being such a down-to-earth guy, it's been loads of fun writing you into
Driftwood
!
To my darling Chloe Rose, you're my world, sweetheart. It's through your eyes I see so much magic, joy and love in everything around us. You're my shining star and I love you with all my heart.
To Clancy, thank you, beautiful, for walking into my life and proving to me that deep soul love really exists. I love you so very much and couldn't imagine my life without you.
My wise, patient, and loving dad, John, you're my rock, my mentor, my guide when I'm lost and the man who wants nothing more than to see me happy in life. I love you.
My step-dad, Trevor, thank you for teaching me from a very young age how to see the positives in everything. Love you.
To Jo, my forever friend, the mateship we share is a rarity. I'm so very proud, and so very blessed, to have you there to share all the ups and downs of life with.
To my wonderful Aunty Kulsoom, you support me in every aspect of my life, loving me unconditionally and making me laugh until my sides ache. Thank you, for everything!
Fiona Stanford, my soul sister, without you there may not have been a completed manuscript for
Driftwood
. I'm forever grateful for the unconditional support you give me in so many different ways.
My brothers and sisters, Kain, Johnny, Karla, Mia, Rochelle and Hayley, you're all there for me in your own very unique ways. I'm so very lucky to have each and every one of you in my life.
To Gail, you are an amazing friend to me and I count my blessings every day to have a strong, loving woman like you in my life.
Tia, we have been mates for almost half my life. You are always there for me, through everything. What more could I ask for in a mate? Love you honey.
And finally, but most importantly, a big squishy country hug goes out to you, the reader, for picking up
Driftwood
and wanting to read inside the cover. I wouldn't be living my dream of writing without you there to support me along the way. I hope my stories fill you with warmth, make you laugh, give you belief in true love and fill you with pride for our beautiful country, Australia.
To Clancy, my beautiful soulmate
My wonderful Aunty Kulsoom
And Fiona Stanford, my soul sister.
In memory of Neil Archibald Stanford
10th July 1927 â 12th July 2012
CHAPTER
1
1861 â Goldbury Township, New South Wales
The joyous rumble of a drunken get-together filtered up through the rickety floorboards of twenty-three-year-old Anne Margaret Willows' bedroom. The landlady of the Goldbury Hotel leant on the windowsill, clutching a thin cotton sheet around her curvaceous, unclothed body and listened to the distinct sound of the old piano blending harmoniously with the upbeat strum of a banjo. The hardworking diggers and the women they had chosen for the evening joined a chorus of merry song. A substantial-sized nugget had been found in the neighbouring goldfields and that was cause for celebration. It was a promise of fortunes to be discovered and refuelled the hope that had diminished over time as the men struggled to survive on rations of damper, mutton and tea.
A high-pitched giggle carried beneath the closed door of the dimly lit room followed by fading laughter and heavy footsteps that vanished down the long hallway. The slam of a door was soon followed by the rhythmic thump of an iron bedhead against a wall.
Relishing the wisp of a cool evening breeze as it refreshed her still flushed skin, Anne gently chewed her bottom lip and watched William Campbell pull on his moleskins then run his hands through his sandy brown hair, his muscular body making her want to ravish him yet again. Whatever was she thinking, falling for the likes of him? It was just asking for trouble. Though she had to silently admit that his wayward image made it even more thrilling for her to be consorting with him.
William turned to face her, a satisfied grin curling his full, firm lips. The flickering light from the kerosene lantern accentuated his rugged features, and his dark chocolate eyes speckled with gold captured her, stealing her breath. He pulled his shirt free from the back of a stool and shrugged it onto his broad shoulders as he picked his pistol up from the dressing table and pushed it into the leather holster at his waist. He sauntered towards her and cupped her face with his strong hands, his lips meeting hers once again, making her legs buckle beneath her. She let the sheet fall and her tingling body pressed into his. She moaned softly, all of her responding to him as he unclipped her hair, the long ringlets fluttering free and cascading down her back. She breathed in his scent, a mixture of manliness, horse, gunpowder and leather. It was enough to make her ache uncontrollably for him, craving his delicious mouth upon her pale English skin once more. The heights of pleasure he bestowed on her were an addiction she would never be free of.
A melodious whistle from the dusty street below captured their attention and they reluctantly untwined from each other. Anne gathered the sheet to her breast as they peered out the window in search of William's comrades. The three men were untying their horses from the hitching rail out the front of the Goldbury Hotel, ready for a quick getaway. Anne's heart sank. The time had come again. She had to say goodbye.
Be strong, don't cry this time. It only upsets Will more.
The whistle warned that the traps were riding back into town, returning from the neighbouring settlement of Kilmaroy. Which meant William would have to make a break for it into the dense scrublands beyond Goldbury. A man could remain hidden for as long as he liked out there; the land was vast, untamed, unforgiving â but William thrived in it. The bush was where his spirit was truly alive and it was one of the many traits that had attracted Anne to him from the beginning â they shared an immeasurable love for the countryside.
William held her gaze, his eyes piercing. âI love you so much, Anne. And I'm sorry this visit was fleeting. But one day I'll give you all that you deserve, all that you've ever dreamed of: our very own cattle property up north, by the sea. Then, with the freedom that comes with that, even wild horses won't be able to drag me away from you . . .' He ran his fingers over her parted lips. âWe will name it Waratah, after your favourite tree, the one with a blossom that matches the fiery colour of your hair and spirit.' His lips twitched into a faint smile. âYou have my word.'
Anne nodded as warm tears trickled down her cheeks. She curtly wiped them away, straightened her back and gripped the sheet around her tighter, the immense inner strength she usually exuded abandoning her in William's presence. âI love you, too, Will. I just wish our lives could be different so we didn't have to be away from each other all the time.' She blinked a few times, sniffling. âIt's so hard, particularly when the sergeant keeps making his feelings for me known. I find it difficult to tolerate his company, especially after what he has done to you, the repulsive man.' Hesitantly stepping away from William as he did the buttons up on his shirt, Anne sat down on the edge of her bed, and sighed despairingly. âBut I cannot ban him from the hotel. He is above the law, as he has well proven to us. However, I know you are a man of your word, so I will hold your promise close to my heart. Always.'
William gritted his teeth, his jaw twitching. âThat trap will be sorry if he
ever
lays a hand on you. I'm not one for taking a life â I'm not, God â but if it came to it, if he hurt you, I wouldn't hesitate.' He pulled on his boots then grabbed his wide-brimmed hat, allowing himself a small smile as he tenderly tilted Anne's chin upwards. âSee you again soon my darling Anne.'
Placing a final lingering kiss on her lips, William clambered out the bedroom window and jumped the ten feet to the ground. Anne moved to the window and watched sombrely as he effortlessly mounted his horse, her eyes locking briefly with his as he glanced back at her. Then, with a sharp flick of the reins, William and his men rode past the blacksmith's and towards the outskirts of town, their silhouettes fading into the darkness as they galloped away, the horses' hooves thunderous upon the hard dirt road. She had no idea when she would see him again â a day, a week, a month, or three months? It depended on whether the police were in town; more often than not, they were.
She huffed. Damn the traps! They had no right hunting him down in the first place. In her eyes, William Campbell was no criminal; he was a decent, generous soul who had been dealt a low blow and was now driven to steal from the rich in order to survive. To make matters worse, it was all because of her. Will only stole from those who made their fortune at the peril of others and shared his gains among the less fortunate. His kind spirit was never greedy, and his greatest satisfaction came from seeing the unlucky with food on the tables. Anne couldn't help but admire him. William had somehow succeeded in living by a moral code in a world that didn't have many moral codes at all.
After a year of clandestine interludes, she still found herself falling deeper for William every time they were reunited. And no matter how hard she fought to ignore her feelings, she would be a fool to deny that she was
madly
in love with Wild Will, the wanted bushranger. She had passed the point of no return. William Campbell had not only stolen from the rich, he had also stolen her heart.
Anne's thoughts crashed back to when William was a successful farmer, a man who prided himself on his honest living, and how that was all taken away from him one fateful day â the day the sergeant had learnt of her fondness for William. In an unjustified jealous rage, Sergeant Hocking retaliated by laying blame on William for a crime he had never committed: the heinous murder of an entire family, including a six-month-old baby. The motive behind the killings was said to be greed, as the family was one of the wealthiest in the area, owners of a substantial amount of real estate in Goldbury and back in England. But even after an extensive search by the police, the jewels and money that had been stolen had never been recovered; the true killer had obviously made sure the evidence was well hidden.
Anne knew William was not capable of taking a child's life. A man's life maybe, if he was driven to it, but unquestionably not a child's. However, for some of the Goldbury townsfolk, the ones who didn't know William's kind-hearted character, it was a completely different story. They rallied behind Hocking, calling for Will to be hanged, labelling him a cold-blooded murderer. It sickened Anne, and she was determined to clear William's name by finding the real killer. She had her suspicions but not enough evidence to point the finger.
Yet
.
When the traps arrested William they had used terrible force, leaving him bloodied, bruised and almost lifeless. They burnt down his house and locked all his cattle and horses in the stockyards without water. William had remained in jail for three long weeks as he waited to be hanged, knowing the entire time that his beloved cattle and horses were dying a long, painful and cruel death. Anne knew the agony of losing his livestock to such remorseless slaughter had been the turning point for William, the deciding factor that had made him seek revenge by becoming a bushranger.
