High Stakes Bride by Fiona Brand Page B

farm’s finances around—until the drought had struck. David himself had no time for unnecessary luxuries; he would have sold the furniture in a second, but he knew she liked the furniture. “The furniture can go, you need a car.”
    â€œI’ll catch a bus, or hitch a ride with a mate.”
    â€œI’ve already got a buyer.”
    â€œYou won’t get much,” he said curtly. “Dad sold off the antiques that were worth anything years ago. Getting rid of the car makes sense, it costs more than it’s worth to run. Besides, it’s only a few weeks until exams then I’ll be back for good. Once I’m home, I can use the truck. ”
    â€œYou won’t get much for the car.”
    â€œA few hundred dollars is better than nothing.”
    Dani set the phone down and studied the figures. Every time she added up what they had against what was owed, she felt sick. No matter how optimistic she tried to be, she couldn’t beat the maths. Even if David sold the car and she sold every piece of furniture in the house, unless the price of beef lifted they would still be short.
    Pushing back the chair, she walked through the big airy rooms of the house, finally stopping in the room that Robert Galbraith and her mother had shared.
    She slid open one of the small top drawers of a dressing table and lifted out a battered wooden casket: her grandmother’s jewels. She hadn’t mentioned them to David, because if he knew she was selling them he would go crazy.
    One by one she opened velvet-lined cases and draped the pretty jewels on the bedspread. Ever since she’d been a child she’d been fascinated by the flash and glitter: a delicate diamond brooch in the shape of a star, a crescent-shaped hair ornament that had once had egret feathers in it, strings of pearls that glowed with a rich bronze lustre and a Victorian posy ring glittering with tiny gems. The jewellery, valuable as it was, represented much more than a financial nest egg. The pieces were the only link she had to a family she had never been a part of, fragments from Susan’s past, and another age—one that celebrated the importance of family and marriage—when the jewels a bride wore were passed down through generations. In Susan’s case, as the sole remaining heir, she had been bequeathed the jewels when her mother had died shortly before Dani had been born.
    Slipping the pieces back into the box, she walked out to the kitchen, looked up a number in the phone directory and picked up the phone. Seconds later a slightly cracked, no-nonsense voice answered. Harriet Dawson was in her seventies and ran an upmarket boutique jewellery business in the much larger neighbouring town of Mason. She had been a longtime friend of Aunt Ellen’s and had insisted on the odd occasions that she had visited that Dani and David address her as Aunt Harriet. When Ellen had died, Harriet had told Dani to keep in touch and if she needed help to let her know. This wasn’t quite the help Harriet had envisioned, but there was no way around the fact that the jewellery had to be sold.
    Briefly, Dani described the pieces. “How long would it take to sell them?”
    There was a long pause. “Are you sure you want to sell?”
    â€œI wouldn’t have rung if I wasn’t sure.”
    â€œIf they look as good as they sound, they would sell almost immediately. I have a number of collectors I buy for.”
    Dani’s attention sharpened. “ You wouldn’t be buying them would you Aunt Harriet?”
    She snorted. “What would I want more jewellery for? I spend all day looking at it and half the night worrying someone’s stealing it. I hate to see you lose family treasures, but at least I can make sure you get what they’re worth.”

Chapter 8
    T he gates of the ostrich facility gleamed in the late-afternoon sunlight as Dani drove in and parked beside the office and shop. Harry Tapp