Snowy Mountains Promise


 
 ABOUT THE AUTHOR
 When USA Today bestselling author ALISSA CALLEN isn’t writing, she plays traffic controller to four children, three dogs, two horses and one renegade cow who believes the grass is greener on the other side of the fence. After a childhood spent chasing sheep on the family farm, Alissa has always been drawn to remote areas and small towns, even when residing overseas. She is partial to autumn colours, snowy peaks and historic homesteads and will drive hours to see an open garden. Once a teacher and a counsellor, she remains interested in the life journeys that people take. She draws inspiration from the countryside around her, whether it be the brown snake at her back door or the resilience of bush communities in times of drought or flood. Her books are characteristically heartwarming, authentic and character driven. Alissa lives on a small slice of rural Australia in central western NSW.
 
 
 Also by Alissa Callen
 The Bundilla Series
 Snowy Mountains Daughter
 Snowy Mountains Cattleman
 The Woodlea Series
 The Long Paddock
 The Red Dirt Road
 The Round Yard
 The Boundary Fence
 
 
 
 www.harpercollins.com.au/hq
 
 To Luke
 
 
 CONTENTS
 About the Author
 Also by Alissa Callen
 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
 Chapter 33
 Chapter 34
 Chapter 35
 Chapter 36
 Chapter 37
 Epilogue
 Acknowledgements
 
 
 CHAPTER
 1
 Hettie Burbrook was many things—introvert, redhead, pilot, chiropractor, photographer—but something she’d never been called was unprepared. Thanks to her childhood, she always had a Plan B, and usually a Plan C.
 It didn’t matter that beyond the front propeller of her Cessna light plane the late afternoon sky had darkened to a stormy grey or that the visibility of the high-country airstrip wasn’t ideal; her landing would be textbook. She’d double-checked the weather, the state of the private landing strip and allowed extra time to perform her pre-flight checks.
 Shoulders relaxed, she looked to her right to take in the novelty of the rugged snow-capped peaks. Her usual views, even in winter, were of red dirt, dusty scrub and ribbon-straight gravel roads. Her duffle bag held the only woollen jumper she’d owned for the past three years. Warm clothes weren’t exactly a necessity when treating her outback clients for sore backs and knees. Just as well her online shopping purchases had arrived before she’d left to fly south. She had enough thermals to keep her cosy in an arctic freeze.
 Her lips curved as she studied the pristine blanket of white. High above the world, with only herself for company, was her happy place. Here there was no loss and no expectations she didn’t have a hope of fulfilling. Here she could be who she was, freckles and all. Here she was as free as the far-off eagle who drifted in slow circles within a thermal updraft.
 The green flash of the wing tip light refocused her thoughts and brought reality back in a rush. Her smile died. She’d soon be on the ground and the respite flying had provided from the hollow anguish inside would end. It had been a fortnight since her surprise visit home to Woodlea and life had irrevocably changed.
 She took a last look at the serenity of the mountains before concentrating on her descent. As the plane flew lower, the once distant landscape formed into distinct shapes. Below the snow line, timbered slopes gave way to the sweep of a large open valley. Deer grazed on the far side of a meandering creek, while on the other side horses galloped, their heads tossing and manes rippling as they raced the plane.
 Hands steady, she guided the Cessna towards a cluster of corrugated iron roofs. A white aviation windsock fluttered on the edge of Glenwood Station’s airfield. Beyond the cleared space, a farm ute was parked beside a shed that would act as a hangar for the plane. Brenna had made it back from Canberra. It had been far too long since they’d caught up face-to-face. Except as Hettie fully focused on the figure leaning against the ute, her breath caught. Brenna wasn’t so tall. Which meant …
 She briefly closed her eyes. As prepared and organised as she was, there was one person who never failed to throw her carefully curated world into chaos. Brenna’s twin brother, Taite.
 The man below tipped his head towards the plane and despite the distance between them it was as though she were staring directly into his intense blue gaze. Her stomach swooped like it always did before her chin angled. Enough. Her teenage-crush days were long behind her. There was no excuse for still feeling so hyper-aware of Taite. Brenna would be running late and Taite had come to meet her. Just like he always did, he’d then make himself scarce.
 She looked away. There had been a brief time when Taite hadn’t avoided her, but no good would come of revisiting the memories that refused to recede no matter how often she banished them. She could guarantee she wouldn’t have ever been on Taite’s mind. It had been two years since she’d set foot on Glenwood Station. In the week she’d stayed all they’d had was a short and casual conversation. This trip would be no different. After all, she was simply an old school friend of his sister.
 Hettie settled back in her seat and made a precautionary pass over the airstrip. After she’d chosen a tree to mark her maximum touchdown point, and she was certain the plane’s noise hadn’t scared any kangaroos onto the airstrip, she turned the Cessna and readied for landing. When the wheels touched the solid earth,