“Heart of the Valley is a novel about letting go and moving forward that mixes tender romance with heartfelt drama. I finished Heart of the Valley with a contented sigh for a story well told and a longing for a horse of my own. Cathryn Hein has joined my ever growing list of must read Australian women writers.” – Book’d Out
“Heart Of The Valley is an excellent addition to the ever-growing rural lit genre – it showcases a beautiful area, contains wonderful, well thought out characters that I really, really enjoyed and I felt the story was rounded and well paced… I’m not afraid to say this book made me cry hard at one stage.” – 1 girl…2 many books
“The tenderness, the horror, the love, the underlying emotions not discussed, the beautiful scenery. It all comes together beautifully…” – Beauty and Lace Magazine
“…there’s something wonderfully absorbing about a rough and ready country yarn heavy with heartache, which weaves in complex family relationships, our gorgeous environment and a bit of raunchy rainstorm sex. Yee ha!” – Amanda Keenan from The West Magazine
“The Heart of the Valley is quite a moving love story about passionate, strong characters who are vulnerable in their own ways. A lovely addition to the rural romance genre in Australia. I will definitely be checking out Cathryn Hein’s first novel, Promises.” – The Australian Bookshelf
Kingston Downs, Hunter Valley, NSW.
He pulled up next to the yards. The dark-brown horse was gone from its enclosure. As they stepped out of the ute, a slim girl in checked, suede-seated riding breeches and a dark-blue jumper with hay caught in the knit led a saddled and heavily booted Sod from the barn. She stopped and regarded them warily, messy bob swinging around her heart-shaped face. The horse raised a hoof and pawed at the ground before bunting her in the head with its nose.
One glance and Lachlan knew he’d imagined her perfectly. No question, Brooke Kingston possessed the look he knew too well. Blemish-free skin, shiny, perfectly cut – albeit untidy – hair, and the haughty bearing of a person who considered herself better than him. She stared back with eyes the colour and clarity of aged cognac, which widened, as everyone’s did, when they took in his size. Lachie stood 195 centimetres in his socks, with shoulders like an axeman and legs muscled from hard work and sport. People stared, women especially, and normally he took it in his stride, but something about Brooke Kingston’s gaze, the way her lips parted as she slowly raked the length of his body, made him tense. It reminded him of Tamsyn, and look where that landed him. Dumped and broken-hearted, that’s where.
Angus kissed her cheek. ‘Hey, Brooke.’
‘I wasn’t expecting you until tomorrow.’
‘I thought Mark called.’
She shook her head, a sudden expression of distress flicking across her features before flattening to thin-lipped composure.
Angus gave her shoulder a squeeze. ‘It’ll be all right, I promise,’ he said softly before turning aside to introduce Lachie. ‘This is Lachlan Cambridge.’
He held his hand out. ‘Nice to meet you.’
As she reached forward to shake it, the horse snaked its neck forward, huge teeth bared and snapping. Lachie jerked back just in time, leaving the animal’s teeth clenching only air. ‘Shit!’
She batted the horse away. ‘Sorry. This is Sod, who likes to live up to his name.’ Giving the horse another push on the nose, she held out her hand again.
He eyed the horse and then took it, surprised at the firmness of her grip. As he let go, Billy gave a yap. He nodded at the dog. ‘This is Billy.’
She eyed the terrier and then him, a slight smile quirking her mouth. Immediately he felt defensive. So Billy wasn’t a collie or kelpie, but he was a good dog and better than that savage horse.
To his surprise she crouched down and reached out for Billy, who wagged his tail in greeting before flopping onto his back to have his belly scratched. Laughing, she obliged, tickling his side until his leg beat crazily and his little body writhed from side to side in ecstasy.
‘Cute,’ she said, standing, and for a brief moment her smile made her very pretty, the sort of girl he’d look twice at if he saw her in the street or a bar. Then the wariness returned, and her lips compressed once more. She turned to her brother. ‘Are you staying?’
Angus shook his head. ‘I need to get back. We’ve five runners at Randwick tomorrow.’
She bit her lip. ‘Maybe come up to the dairy for a cuppa? When you’ve finished with the manager.’
That thumped him back to earth. He should have remembered girls like her didn’t associate with the hired help. Angus led her away, speaking quietly. Lachie turned aside, shoved his hands into his pockets and surveyed the drive, wondering if he shouldn’t collect his stuff and get the hell out of there.
Except where would he go? Not Delamere, and he couldn’t face going back to more labouring. He was a qualified agronomist, but he knew from experience good jobs were hard to come by. Plus he had Nick to think of. Lachie didn’t want to see him struggle like he had at uni, trying to balance work and study and barely succeeding at either.
Nope, he was staying, whether Brooke Kingston liked it or not.
A Story From the Heart
The Hunter Valley. Even the name sounds romantic. And it is a romantic place, with gorgeous vineyards, spectacular hills, luxurious thoroughbred studs, bucolic dairy farms and a river that courses like a vein through the landscape, bringing fertility and life.
But my first experience of the Hunter was far from romantic. I’d been living in Melbourne, having moved there from South Australia after I finished my agriculture degree to work for a pasture and turf seed company. Then I met Jim and fell in love and all was going wonderfully until we found out he was being transferred to New South Wales. I had to make a decision – stay or leave. Well, I wasn’t about to let that man slip through my fingers and an offer of employment from another pasture seed company simply sealed it: I was heading to the Hunter.