Outback Secrets Read online

  Praise for Rachael Johns

  ‘Johns is one of Australia’s most popular authors, and for good reason—she tells great stories. She always takes complex themes and then delivers them in a page-turning combination of heart, wit and wisdom … How to Mend a Broken Heart is yet another cracking read from Rachael Johns … in fact, it’s her best yet.’ Better Reading

  ‘Imbued with an adventurous spirit, and ultimately hope, this book transports you mentally to a vibrant and unique city a world away … I highly recommend this book. I finished it feeling warm and cosy, if I’d just shared a wonderful adventure with two good friends.’ She Society on How to Mend a Broken Heart

  ‘Rachael has delivered another realistic and relatable tale with everything from spooky old mansions with ghosts, to cultural culinary delights, to life lessons and the opportunities to start anew all in the iconic New Orleans.’ Great Reads and Tea Leaves on How to Mend a Broken Heart

  ‘A brilliant read from one of Australia’s most popular authors, this will have you hooked from the very beginning.’ —Who on Flying the Nest

  ‘With her typical humour, empathy and wisdom, Rachael Johns has once again created characters you can’t help but fall in love with and wish the best for. Flying the Nest might just be her best novel yet!’ —Tess Woods, author of Love at First Flight ‘Writing with warmth and insight, Rachael Johns is brilliant at capturing the joy and sadness in all of our lives. I hope she has many more tales to tell!’ —Anthea Hodgson, author of The Drifter, on Flying the Nest

  ‘A really good book makes you feel like you’ve found a new friend—one that resonates with you, and one who you can learn from. That’s exactly how I felt in Rachael Johns’ new novel, Flying the Nest … This is a book that women will want to bond over, share laughs and tears over—a must read for every woman who has had their life take an unexpected turn.’ —Mamamia

  ‘Rachael Johns really gets women and is able to express the multilayered internal conflicts that so many of us experience, lay it all out on the page, and still make it deeply personal … She’s masterful at telling the stories of everyday heartbreaks … Flying the Nest is wonderful—Rachael Johns never disappoints.’ —Better Reading

  ‘If you like your chick-lit with a dash of intelligent social commentary, Just One Wish is the perfect summer read. Rachael Johns’s latest novel is sparklingly funny, quirky and totally of this moment.’ —Herald Sun

  ‘Johns knows how to weave the experiences of different generations of women together, with nuance and sensitivity, understanding how competing contexts shape women’s choices … Exploring themes like motherhood, the roles of women, and lost love, Just One Wish will make you look at the women in your own life and wonder what stories they haven’t told.’ —Mamamia

  ‘Johns draws readers in with her richly complex characters.’ —The Daily Telegraph on Just One Wish

  ‘Rachael Johns writes with warmth and heart, her easy, fluent style revealing an emotional intelligence and firm embrace of the things in life that matter, like female friendship.’ —The Age on Lost Without You

  ‘Heart-warming and compassionate … Any book lover interested in life’s emotional complexities and in the events that define and alter us, will be engrossed.’ —Better Reading on Lost Without You

  ‘Full of heartache and joy with a twist that keeps the pages turning … The Greatest Gift will appeal to fans of Jojo Moyes and Monica McInerney.’ —Australian Books + Publishing

  ‘Rachael Johns has done it again, writing a book that you want to devour in one sitting, and then turn back to the first page to savour it all over again. I loved the characters of Harper and Jasper; their stories made me laugh and cry, and ache and cheer and ultimately reflect on all the many facets of that extraordinary journey called motherhood.’ —Natasha Lester, author of The Paris Secret, on The Greatest Gift

  ‘The bond between Flick, Neve, and Emma blossomed as their sons grew up, but even best friends keep secrets from one another … Fans of emotional, issue driven women’s fiction will welcome Johns’ US women’s fiction debut.’ —Booklist on The Art of Keeping Secrets

  ‘… a compelling and poignant story of dark secrets and turbulent relationships … I fell completely in love with the well-drawn characters of Flick, Emma and Neve. They were funny and flawed and filled with the kind of raw vulnerability that makes your heart ache for them.’ —Nicola Moriarty, bestselling author of The Fifth Letter, on The Art of Keeping Secrets

  ‘Written with compassion and real insight, The Art of Keeping Secrets peeks inside the lives of three ordinary women and the surprising secrets they live with. Utterly absorbing and wonderfully written, Johns explores what secrets can do to a relationship, and pulls apart the notion that some secrets are best kept. It is that gripping novel that, once started, will not allow you to do anything else until the final secret has been revealed.’ —Sally Hepworth, bestselling author of The Secrets of Midwives, on The Art of Keeping Secrets

  ‘A fascinating and deeply moving tale of friendship, family and of course—secrets. These characters will latch onto your heart and refuse to let it go.’ —USA Today bestselling author Kelly Rimmer on The Art of Keeping Secrets

  RACHAEL JOHNS is an English teacher by trade, a mum 24/7, a Diet Coke addict, a cat lover and chronic arachnophobe. She is also the bestselling, ABIA-winning author of The Patterson Girls and a number of other romance and women’s fiction books including The Art of Keeping Secrets, The Greatest Gift, Lost Without You, Just One Wish, Something to Talk About, Flying the Nest and How to Mend a Broken Heart. Outback Secrets is the fifth in her series of rural romances set in Bunyip Bay. Rachael rarely sleeps, never irons and loves nothing more than sitting in bed with her laptop and imagining her own stories. She is currently Australia’s leading writer of contemporary relationship stories around women’s issues, a genre she has coined ‘life-lit’.

  Rachael lives in the Swan Valley with her hyperactive husband, three mostly gorgeous heroes-in-training, two ravenous cats, a cantankerous bird and a very badly behaved dog.

  Rachael loves to hear from readers and can be contacted via her website rachaeljohns.com. She is also on Facebook and Instagram

  Also by Rachael Johns:

  The Patterson Girls

  The Art of Keeping Secrets

  The Greatest Gift

  Lost Without You

  Just One Wish

  Flying the Nest

  How to Mend a Broken Heart

  The Rose Hill novels

  Talk of the Town

  Something to Talk About

  The Bunyip Bay novels

  Outback Dreams

  Outback Blaze

  Outback Ghost

  Outback Sisters

  The Hope Junction novels

  Jilted

  The Road to Hope

  Man Drought

  The Kissing Season (e-novella)

  The Next Season (e-novella)

  Secret Confessions Down and Dusty: Casey (e-novella)

  www.romance.com.au

  Outback Secrets is dedicated to the wonderful people in the Rachael Johns Online Book Club—I love chatting books and writing with you all, and your passion for reading inspires me. Thank you!

  SIGN OUT THE FRONT OF THE PALACE, BUNYIP BAY

  Sometimes you run into people who change your life for the better. Those people are called publicans.

  Contents

  Praise

  About the Author

  Also by Rachael Johns

  Prologue

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight
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  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  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

  Chapter Thirty-three

  Chapter Thirty-four

  Chapter Thirty-five

  Chapter Thirty-six

  Chapter Thirty-seven

  Chapter Thirty-eight

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  Prologue

  Henrietta Forward could already taste the ice-cold beer that was waiting for her back at Anna Downs station. A drink, dinner, shower and bed, in that order, was on her agenda because she was absolutely knackered. She was nearing the end of a busy few weeks aerial mustering in the East Kimberleys—one of the most remote and beautiful parts of Western Australia—and was looking forward to a few days off to catch her breath before driving across the country to the Riverina region of New South Wales.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t adore her job; Henri only felt truly alive when she was above the earth, looking down at the varied landscapes she was lucky enough to experience, but the hours were long and by the end of a stint like this one, she was in dire need of a little R&R. Smiling down at the deep red ground below, she knew she’d never tire of the scenery or the thrill of chasing cattle. Stunning gorges and waterholes were scattered throughout the enormous Anna Downs property, not to mention boabs and eucalypts that would soon be a vibrant shade of green due to the wet. She even loved the weirdly shaped termite mounds that poked up from the earth and looked like little cities of mud-built skyscrapers. This work wasn’t her bread and butter because a lot of stations up here used choppers—they made it easier to navigate the trees, although weren’t nearly as kind on the cattle in her opinion—but there were still a few station owners who preferred fixed-wings and for that she was grateful.

  The mobs were in decent sizes now and the ringers were starting to move them towards the yards. There was just one last bit of bush still to inspect. Henri headed over, feeling adrenaline buzz through her as she spied a couple of cattle in a clearing. If there was one thing certain about mustering, it was that where there were some animals, there’d be others close by. The hardest part was encouraging them out of the trees; once they got going it was easy enough to keep them moving, especially if she nudged them in the direction of the nearest waterhole.

  Training her gaze on the destination, she angled the Cessna towards the trees—the goal to startle the cattle with the loud noise of the aircraft, which would encourage them to head in the opposite direction. She needed to get close enough to get them moving but not so fast as to cause trouble. It was better if the beasts walked rather than ran. If they moved too fast, occasionally the old girls would leave their calves behind without a backward glance, which did not make for happy station owners.

  But it soon became apparent this was the least of Henri’s problems. Her heart hammered at the sound of an almighty bang as she descended towards the trees.

  Fuck! The engine! The prop had stopped dead.

  No. This could not be happening, but even as she prayed to a God she hadn’t thought of since Sunday School that this was all in her vivid imagination, Henri knew that was not the case. Hadn’t she felt something wasn’t quite right with the old Continental engine?

  Earlier in the day there’d been a slight, almost imperceptible miss now and again. The engine was nearing time for a rebuild and was scheduled to be pulled and overhauled as soon as mustering season was finished, but when she’d stopped to refuel, she’d examined around the cowling, checked the oil, and everything had looked fine.

  Cold fear sliced through her as she realised this was anything but fine, but she didn’t have time to panic.

  Her training took over and instinct set in. Using the speed she still had, Henri gained height again and set up for a forced landing, all the while scanning the area below for a suitable location. A long way from the station’s airstrip, she’d need to improvise and hope like hell that fate was on her side. Her hands grew clammy on the controls, and just when she was losing hope of finding anywhere close to suitable, a small clearing presented itself.

  Determined, she maintained an approach speed as she brought the Cessna lower, then switched everything off after the last flap had been applied. She couldn’t breathe, her head completely consumed with the most terrifying, most important landing she’d ever made.

  ‘Oh my God! I did it,’ she shrieked as the wheels hit the ground and her heart started beating wildly.

  But the danger wasn’t over yet; she needed to keep her wits about her a little longer in order to brake heavily and avoid the trees that were rapidly approaching on the other side of the clearing. The small wheels, not made for such rough terrain, bounced along, the noise so horrendous Henri could barely hear herself think.

  But she had to. She had to fight to keep control.

  Finally, just when it looked like both she and the aircraft had survived the ordeal unscathed, she jolted in her seat, swearing again as a wheel hit something hard. She didn’t have time to wonder what it was—although later she’d identify the culprit as one of the termite mounds she’d been admiring—as the leg dislodged and the aircraft slewed around madly.

  It was over in a heartbeat. Her final stop anything but graceful.

  It could have been a lot worse, she told herself as she sat there, dazed and trying to catch her breath. After a long day sitting in the high-decibel environment of the cockpit, the sound of silence was almost deafening. All she could hear was the ringing in her own ears.

  The red dust that had been disturbed on impact settled around her and Henri stared out of the cockpit, almost unable to believe what had just happened. Although there’d been some close encounters with powerlines in her many years flying, that was the nearest she’d ever come to true calamity, possibly even death.

  Suddenly her whole body started to tremble. She forced herself to unbuckle her seatbelt, remove her headset, climb out and examine just how bad the damage was. One undercarriage leg had been bent backwards and right up, lowering the fuselage closer to the ground. Bingo, she thought as she noticed oil smeared back from the engine cowl, telling her exactly why the engine had stopped.

  Despite her heart still pounding, some of the shock started to abate and she actually felt slightly proud that she’d known something wasn’t quite right. Disaster had threatened and she’d lived to tell the tale. Next time she’d simply have to pay more attention to her gut.

  It was a good thing mustering was all but finished, because there was no way that aircraft was going up again any time soon.

  Suddenly parched and knowing there was nothing more she could do here, Henri grabbed her water bottle from the baggage compartment, shut the cockpit door and started walking in the direction of the yards. It was a good distance away, but the ringers would have seen her aircraft go down and she knew it wouldn’t be long before they came to her rescue.

  Chapter One

  Six weeks later

  ‘Well, Cecil, we’re home sweet home,’ Henri said, her grip tightening on the steering wheel as she drove past the welcome sign on the outskirts of Bunyip Bay, almost four weeks earlier than planned. She’d nearly come home a few weeks ago but hadn’t wanted to raise suspicion, and besides, she wasn’t sure she could stand any longer than a month living with her mother.

  It was year
s since she’d officially been a resident of this town, but her mum’s family were founding members, having farmed in the district since the mid 1800s when they’d immigrated from a tiny town in Cornwall. Bunyip Bay was where Henri had spent her childhood until heading to Perth to boarding school at age thirteen. This was where her siblings and most of her friends still resided, and her answer when anyone asked where she came from. She’d adored growing up here, chasing her dad and brothers around the farm until she was old enough to muck in and help, and she’d hated her years at boarding school in the city. Not just because a lot of the girls only cared about make-up and fashion—two things Henri had no interest in whatsoever—but because she missed her dad, the aromas of the farm and the feel of the sand between her toes. Bunyip Bay was in her blood and, as she unwound her window and smelled the fresh salty scents of the nearby ocean, she felt some of the tension she’d been carrying the last few weeks start to ease.

  Maybe her boss was right … maybe she did simply need a break, some time back home before she started her next contract. Some quality time in the ocean. Aside from flying, there was nothing quite as therapeutic for Henri as swimming and surfing. Of course she’d stopped at other beaches on her journey west, but she couldn’t wait to take a dip in her favourite bit of the ocean.

  There was just one even more important stop first.

  Driving on through the main street lined with dusty four-wheel drives and even dirtier dual-cab utes, Henri smiled at the familiar sights. The IGA, the Community Resource Centre, the medical centre, primary school, the old Memorial Hall, the bowling club, her best friend Frankie’s café and the iconic pub at the top of the hill where she’d spent many an errant night in her late teens, were all almost exactly the same as they’d always been. It was only The Ag Store that was new and shiny. Henri’s sister Tilley and her husband owned Bunyip Bay’s ag and hardware supplies, a business they’d literally built from the ground up after the old owners lost everything in an arson attack.