Read Online The House On Burra Burra Lane by Jennie Jones - Free Book Online Page A

of the hall cupboard so hard Ethan thought his collarbone had popped.
    Grandy marched him into the dining room, pointed at the jumble of chintzy cushions, broken crockery and scattered knickknacks—it hadn’t been easy getting twenty two chickens into the house quietly—and demanded an explanation for the mess and why there was so much scratching and clucking coming from Mrs Johnson’s bathroom.
    Joke, Ethan had said.
    Oh, man . Had he copped it.
    It wasn’t as if he’d hurt the animals, they were happy enough to peck on the grain he’d thrown onto the pink mats in Mrs J’s cavernous bathroom, and it wasn’t because he’d missed school again, or pinched the bike, or even because he’d hidden in the cupboard waiting for the screaming and flapping when Mrs J went to spend a penny. Grandy had been furious because Ethan had broken into Mrs J’s house like a thief. An idiot.
    Would have been mildly amusing if things hadn’t ended so badly. Two fights in town later, with grown men who had come in for a beer, not expecting to lose their wallets to a kid—and Grandy had given Ethan money for the bus fare. Told him to hightail it and not come back to Swallow’s Fall until he’d found his way the hard way, grown some sense and turned himself into the decent man he was capable of becoming.
    If anyone retold these stories in front of Sammy, he’d have a lot of explaining to do. And he didn’t want to think about how he’d left his mother alone. If they brought that up, it would all come out. Did Sammy even know yet that this was his town? His house?
    He should leave her be for a while, take a step back before all this got out of hand. It was her house now. Nothing to do with him. No need for her to know about his past.
    She was an uncomplicated person, no matter what others had told her. Grace, humour and a willing optimism were ingrained in her. So different to himself . It would take a great deal to dampen her spirit. Maybe that’s why she’d come here, bought the old property. She could be using the adventure to get over that guy and whatever he and her mother had done. It must have been something hard though, to make a happy girl run. And what would she do when she was sick of the country? Run again?
    He stirred himself from that reflection. He had no intention of swaying her decision.
    Then he saw her, sitting on her gate at the end of her driveway, eating an apple and swinging her legs, and he knew he was right about her; she was happiness itself. Why would anyone want to hurt her?
    He swung the ute to the verge and wound his window down.
    ‘Hello,’ she called. ‘Where are you off to?’
    The daylight shimmered over her. Her long russet hair, tied in a ponytail, caught the breeze. She smiled at him and in the space between moments, his edginess flew on the wind.
    He smiled back. ‘The Smyth farm. Want to come?’
    ‘Anything interesting to look at?’
    ‘A new foal.’
    She jumped off the gate, threw the apple core into the ditch and headed for his ute, wiping her hands on her track pants.
    ‘Baby animals. Why didn’t you say sooner?’ She grinned, her lips still wet from the apple. She hooked her hip onto the passenger seat and arranged herself, slamming the door and grabbing the seatbelt.
    ‘Go forth.’ She swung her arm up, pointing her finger. ‘It’s getting older as we sit here.’
    Ethan shifted the stick into gear. Her responses. Her optimism. So unlike the young woman he’d married. So very different, even, from the women he’d been with between the then and the now.
    Ethan parked close to the stables. Sammy leapt out of her seat before he’d put the handbrake on.
    Ray Smyth walked towards them with his easy gait.
    ‘Ethan.’ He took hold of Ethan’s hand as Sammy placed hers behind her back, bouncing on the balls of her feet as though itching to move to the colt.
    ‘How’s he doing, Ray?’
    ‘Not bad, but he doesn’t want to get up much. I’ve been with him all