Then, with a determined glint in his eye, Noah swept her off her feet and into his arms, and as he carried her inside, Beth sent up a silent ‘thank you’ to Pru, not for the first time, for bringing her home to the heart country.
EPILOGUE
Eight months later—Christmas Day
Beth made her way across the field, a sense of calm washing over her as soon as she heard the flowing river. She took her familiar route to the water’s edge, keeping an eye out for wildlife as she wove through the trees, and made her way to her favourite spot, where the trees hung over the water and a large, flat rock offered the perfect place to sit and reflect. If the conditions were right, she could sit there for hours, marvelling in the dappled sunlight, breathing in the smells of the bush and listening to the whispering leaves. Marge had told her, in the wake of Flo’s death, that her mob believed that when their loved ones die, their spirits return to Boodja, that their old peoples’ spirits can be heard through the leaves of the trees when the wind blows. Beth had come here every day since, to remember Rosie and Flo and to honour her dad and Pru. In fact, she reflected on all the connections she’d made since coming home to Karlup. She still had to pinch herself sometimes because she’d never known happiness like this. Her home was her sanctuary, her friends meant the world to her, and Noah … well, she was still trying to find words to accurately describe how much she loved him. He was the air she breathed, the blood that ran through her veins, the food that nourished her soul.
And they had a bright future ahead of them. Noah was working towards a diploma in building and construction so he could eventually apply for a builder’s licence. She’d enrolled in a small business management course and would eventually run the administration side of things, while he’d be the one onsite, renovating and coordinating trades. They’d even come up with a business name and slogan:Heart Country Renovations, turning houses into homes. He didn’t know but she’d had the name registered and was giving him the documentation for Christmas. It’d be a few years yet before they were operational, but in the meantime, they’d continue flipping houses to build up their financial capital. They’d already purchased Flo’s place and were about halfway through its renovation.
To top it all off, she’d applied to the Western Australian government for a copy of her birth certificate and it had arrived just last week. It was official—she now knew who she was and where she came from, just like baby Jedda.
Noticing a familiar flash of blue from the corner of her eye, she grinned and greeted the newcomer.
‘Hey, handsome!’
The same male splendid fairy wren had been appearing here since her third or fourth visit to this spot, and over the last eight months or so, she’d watched his colouring change from a dull brown to a vibrant, iridescent blue—his breeding plumage, according to Noah, grown specifically to attract a mate.
The wren pecked at the ground in search of bugs, pausing his hunt frequently to turn this way and that, his tail swishing from side to side and his tiny head tilting as he assessed the environment for danger. After a moment or two, another wren joined him, this one bearing the telltale brown fluff of a chick.
Beth stayed silent, in awe of the magical moment. Her little friend had never introduced her to anyone else before.
Yet another wren joined them, this one also blue, then another chick fluttered into their midst, and by the time three chicks, a female, two younger males and the original breeding male were all pecking at the ground by her rock, Beth was giddy with excitement. It wasn’t every day she got to witness an entire family group of fairy wrens hunting for their lunch.
A sense of peace washed over her as she observed them. Today, when she left here, she and Noah would welcome her new surrogate family—Mick and Celia, Marge and Tom, Hana, Caleb and Ellie—to her home for Christmas lunch. It felt like a sign, this little family of fairy wrens appearing, as if her dad, Rosie, Pru and Flo were giving their blessing, or perhaps expressing their joy at her having found others to fill the void their deaths had left in her life. They were letting her know she was right where she was supposed to be. She was at home, embracing the life that was always meant to be hers.
A long whistle, shrill but distant, floated to her on the breeze. It got the birds’ attention, though it wasn’t loud enough to startle them, and after a moment, they continued their hunt.
Beth backed off the rock, careful not to disturb them. Then, whispering goodbye to her loved ones, she turned and headed back through the trees.
Noah was calling her home.
