Caleb's Song Read online

  Caleb's Song

  Rockstar Redemption, Volume 1

  Kathleen Ryder

  Published by Ryder Publications, 2020.

  This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.

  CALEB'S SONG

  First edition. December 20, 2020.

  Copyright © 2020 Kathleen Ryder.

  ISBN: 978-1393750246

  Written by Kathleen Ryder.

  Also by Kathleen Ryder

  Outback Doctors

  Fling With The Flying Doctor

  Rockstar Redemption

  Caleb's Song (Coming Soon)

  Standalone

  Twisters

  Watch for more at Kathleen Ryder’s site.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Also By Kathleen Ryder

  Dedication

  PROLOGUE

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  EPILOGUE

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  Further Reading: Fling With The Flying Doctor

  Also By Kathleen Ryder

  About the Author

  About the Publisher

  For Caleb G,

  For wearing the black skinny jeans that inspired the character of Caleb Roman.

  And for making me smile.

  PROLOGUE

  The cool air hit Caleb like a slap across the cheek, he stumbled back, almost falling over an ill placed garbage bin. His brother laughed, helped steady him, guided him carefully over to the carpark, buckling him in safely. It had been a good night, a long night. Caleb was glad Sam had come, it was easier to be himself when Sam was around, he didn’t need to pretend to be someone else, didn’t need to wear a mask of celebrity or pretentiousness. He could just be himself. Surprisingly, although there had been offers, neither of them was taking a woman home tonight. Oh well, there was always next time, and there would be a next time, Caleb was sure, this was their favourite Friday night haunt.

  Laughing, Caleb turned to look at Sam, his eyes twinkling. “See,” he couldn’t help teasing the other man, “I knew you would have a good time tonight Sammy.”

  “I always have a good time with you little brother,” Sam ruffled Caleb’s perfectly lacquered hair, deliberately squashing the rock star ‘ruffled just hopped straight out of bed’ style that Caleb had spent hours perfecting earlier that night. “But we can’t all be irresponsible rockstars now can we, Callie?” Sam used the childhood nickname he knew Caleb detested so much, knowing it would get a rise out of him. “Some of us actually have to work to earn a living!” It was the same banter that always existed between them, the ribbing and poking fun that was laced with the love that comes from being part of a family.

  “Work?!” snorted Caleb, “Ha! As if! You’re a partner in a law firm Sammy, how much work can you possibly do? Don’t you have a staff of people all waiting to jump to your command?” Caleb’s raucous laugh mingled with Sam’s deep chortle.

  “Staff? That’s your department brother dear, how many do you have now? Eighteen? Ninete-”

  “Watch out!” Caleb’s panicked shout interrupts Sam, and he blinks once, surprise etching his features. The unrelenting screech of bare metal tyre rims on bitumen reaches a crescendo before fading into silence, the world turning black, the only sound an incessant beep, beep, beep.

  Caleb groaned as he rolled out of bed, ripping his alarm clock from the power socket, and pitching it across the room, cursing the sunlight streaming through the gap in the curtains as he did so. God, he hated mornings, or afternoons, or whatever horrid hour it happened to be. He ran a hand through his mop of brown hair, attempting, and failing, to untangle the knotted mess, before heading down the spiral staircase two at a time, in search of coffee. He didn’t bother with a mug, chugging it straight from the percolator as he made his way through the open plan middle level of his house, headed for the balcony that overlooked Darling Harbour.

  Caleb had bought this house out of spite, a dumb spur of the moment decision that was his grown-up equivalent to sticking his tongue out at Sam. They had viewed this house together, Sam had joked that the house was a masterpiece of palatial proportions, and that Caleb would never fill the sprawling statement in architectural mastery and design. He was right, Caleb had no intention of ever living in the breathtakingly luxurious family home, at least, not at first, not when he had bought it. The decision to move in, to actually reside here came later, after...Caleb shook his head to dispel the ghosts of a memory he could not, would not, address.

  Located in one of Sydney's most privileged enclaves with sweeping elevated views over Darling Harbour, his home really was extraordinary from every angle. Spanning three incredible levels bathed in natural light, it boasted stunning French oak flooring, a gourmet kitchen, two spacious living areas and formal dining room, a butler's pantry, and a sun soaked entertainers' terrace capturing magnificent views, while also overlooking the secluded level backyard with a swimming pool. There are six oversized bedrooms, all with their own ensuite, as well as an opulent master bedroom and luxurious ensuite featuring a sunken bath.

  The expansive lower level included a nanny's quarters with separate entrance, as well as a gym, home cinema, and extensive storage. There is under floor heating and ducted air conditioning throughout the entire house, and two double lock-up garages plus off-street parking for three more cars. Apart from the bedroom he is using, and the kitchen, the only other room Caleb had spent much time in was the basement level, housing a wine cellar and a home studio. Although the house was purchased as a joke, Caleb had thought the he might use the studio one day. As it was, the most he had done was go down there and stare at the musical equipment as if he had no idea what to do with it, which, given his current state of mind, wasn’t far off the truth.

  He stared unseeing at the scene unfolding before him. A plane trailed across the sky, glinting against the blue horizon. Yachts skipped across the harbour, dancing a ballet with the passenger ferries. Crowds of people gathered at the world-famous Sydney Opera House, popular even when nothing was showing. The world around him was moving, people were living their lives as he watched on from his perch safely above it all. A frown marred Caleb’s face. He could not remember when he had last left the house, there was no need. Anything he wanted was easily home delivered. No, he thought with disgust, that wasn’t true. He knew when it was. The night he had taken Sam to a new nightclub opening, the world-famous bad boy Rockstar and his sensible older brother. They had been inseparable back then. Eleven months ago. A lifetime.

  A week later Caleb had moved into this house, incognito. He made sure to email his parents, manager, and agent once a week, he didn’t want them to worry any more than they already did about him. He knew he would have to see them soon, there was only so much healing time they would grant him, he knew their patience was wearing thin. Most days he really didn’t care, but today, today was differen
t. He wasn’t ready to face them yet, or the media, he knew that, but he was restless, tired of being cooped up in an empty house with only himself for company. He needed to get away, out of this house, out of this whole wretched city with memories around every corner. Somewhere where no one knew him, where people would never even think to look for him.

  An hour later, mind made up, Caleb strode out of his house, and tossed his duffel bag into the passenger seat of his Ferrari 488. He tore out of his driveway, foot down, only stopping for petrol once the city was a distant speck in his rear-view mirror.

  CHAPTER ONE

  “I’m sorry, we’re fully booked out for the next two weeks.” The clerks chirpy response grated on Caleb’s nerves.

  “You’re kidding!” Caleb looked around incredulously. This place was fully booked out?! No way could this brown and mustard sixties throwback colour scheme with the musty smell and vinyl high backed chairs be fully booked out. “I had no idea that Beryl Creek was such a tourist attraction,” he commented dryly, feigning deafness at the incessant bleeping on his mobile phone. At least he wasn’t too rural for Wi-Fi.

  “It’s the camel races this coming weekend, so,” the young girl manning the desk shrugged nonchalantly, “yeah, like I said, fully booked out.” Camel races, good grief, where on earth had he ended up? For the first time in seventy-two hours, Caleb started to wonder about his impulsive decision to leave. “You could always try the Bianchi place down the road, they sometimes take in guests when we are full,” the clerk offered.

  “The Bianchi’s?”

  “If you just drive straight down main street, make a left turn at the only set of traffic lights, onto Finch Street. The last house on the left, with the white picket fence, is the Bianchi place.” The only set of traffic lights? Interesting, this small town really was his version of hell, nothing less than he deserved, he thought wryly. With a final glance at the empty hotel lobby, Caleb turned and pushed through the exit doors. Two minutes later he was pulling up in front of the Bianchi house, a modest weatherboard, freshly painted white. He wondered if that was to match the fence or if the fence had come later. With a resigned sigh he cut the engine and walked up the cobblestone path to the front porch. As he lifted his hand to knock on the front door, it swung open, bringing him face to face with a drooling horse.

  “Bella, get down, you naughty dog.” Huh, so not a horse then. “Mum, someone’s at the door.” A small face appeared around the side of the dog, lopsided grin firmly in place. “Sorry about Bella, she won’t hurt you, but she is a licker.”

  “Sofia honey, take Bella outside, you know Gramma doesn’t like her in the house.” Expressive sea blue eyes smiled around the corner. “Hi, I’m Gabby, can I help you?” Caleb shook her outstretched hand, smiling in spite of himself.

  “Hi, I’m Caleb, I was sent here from the motel, I was hoping you had a room for rent?” Caleb didn’t miss the once over that Gabby gave him, nor the unasked questions in her eyes.

  “Of course, please,” she gestured towards the open door, “won’t you come in?” Caleb followed her through the small entryway into a spacious front room, doubling as a reception. While Gabby took out the reservation book Caleb took in his surroundings. This place was cosy, despite the openness of the room there was a real warmth here, it was a home, he realised nostalgically.

  “How many nights were you looking to stay?” Gabby smiled up at him.

  “Two weeks if possible,” Caleb did a quick calculation. Yes, two weeks would do, it would see him past the one-year mark, if nothing else. Yes, he decided firmly, two weeks to sort out his sorry mess of a life and decide his future. It shouldn’t be too hard to do, not in Beryl Creek in any case.

  “We don’t usually take-”

  “Are you a gangster?” A small voice interrupted.

  “Lucia!” Gabby gasped, jumping up from her chair behind the desk and crossing over to the small girl in the doorway. “No, he is not a gangster, why on earth would you even think such a thing? Go find Sofia, go on, and no bothering Grampa.” Her tone held a warning. “I’m sorry,” she turned towards Caleb, “school holidays have just started, and the girls grandfather likes to regale them with stories of his youth,” she smiled fondly. “Not that he was a gangster,” she hastened to add, “he was a police officer,” she finished lamely.

  Caleb laughed, he knew he shouldn’t, but he just could not help himself. The embarrassed look on her face was priceless. “I’m sorry,” he gasped out, “really, I am. It’s just that I have never been mistaken for a gangster before.” A bastard, yes, cruel and unfeeling, sure, but never an actual villain. He was surprised to find himself laughing, he had almost forgotten what it sounded like.

  “Perhaps it is the full black ensemble?” A smile tugged at the corners of Gabby’s mouth. “Come on, let me show you the room and then you can decide if it will be suitable or not.” Caleb followed Gabby up a curved staircase to a second-floor landing, housing an overstuffed bookcase and several pot plants, and down a narrow hallway with several doors leading off it. She leads him to the door furthest away from the landing, and fishing a key out of her pocket, unlocks the door. The room is large, tastefully decorated in whites and greys, polished wooden floorboards. A king-sized bed sits in the middle of the room, a large window opens out over the garden, allowing a soft breeze to waft in. A small round table and chairs, and a wardrobe housing a TV, kettle, and bar fridge complete the room. A second door leads off into a small ensuite.

  “It’s perfect, I’ll take it.”

  “Excellent,” Gabby beamed up at him, “if you’ll follow me, we’ll get the paperwork sorted out and then I will send up some afternoon tea Mister....” Gabby trailed off, looking up at him expectantly.

  “Mr Roman,” Uh, oh. Here it comes. “Caleb Roman.” Caleb held his breath, watching Gabby intently. Huh, nothing, not even a flicker of recognition. Maybe he will be okay here after all, maybe he will have the peace he craves.

  “Well, welcome to Beryl Creek Caleb”, Gabby smiled at him before leading him back downstairs and through to the office. Ten minutes later, paperwork sorted, suitcase stashed at the base of the wardrobe, Caleb flopped down on the bed, feet dangling off the edge, and stared at the ceiling. He fished out his mobile phone from his pocket, and without reading any of them, deleted all of his messages, before switching his hone off and tossing it in the direction of the door. He could feel the stress of the drive ebbing away, weariness settling around him like a fog, eyes heavy, his last conscious thought was that of a small child’s whisper on the wind.

  When Caleb woke it was to a room streaked with dawn, muffled sounds drifting up from below. The illuminated numbers on the bedside clock surprised him, confused him momentarily. While he used to be able to live the rockstar life of partying until dawn and sleeping until noon, he never slept through the night anymore, hadn’t for almost twelve months now. In fact, he considered himself lucky if he managed to get five hours of sleep a night. Yet here he was, fully clothed, pins and needles from sleeping on his hand, shoes still on from yesterday. If the clock was to be believed, he had slept without stirring, without being plagued by dreams of a past best forgotten, for fifteen hours. He sat up, stretching arms high above his head, absently wondering what brand of bed he had slept on and whether he should get one for his house or not. He crossed the room to flick on the light switch, noticing a sign on the wall beside it. Guest rules. Huh, he had never been particularly good at following the rules.

  He skimmed the list quickly. Rule number one, no smoking inside. Okay, that he could do, never having taken up that particular vice. Rule number two, no drugs. Again, not an issue for him. Rule number three, no overnight guests. Hmm, that one would usually have been far trickier, but aside from being in a dinky country town with severely limited options, he had been having somewhat of a dry spell lately. A fact that should have upset him but didn’t, not that he wanted to analyse why that was either. Below the rules were the hours meals were served, Caleb was relieve
d to see breakfast was only half an hour away, he was ravenous! Padding through to the ensuite, Caleb showered, the water banishing the last traces of sleep. As he reached for a tee shirt to pull on, he stilled, a smile quirking at the side of his lips as he looked down at himself, remembering yesterday’s assessment of resembling a gangster. Black sneakers, his trademark skinny black jeans, and now, in his hand, a crumpled black tee shirt. Huh, he really did need to expand his colour choices. He threw the tee shirt back in his suitcase and rifled around some more, eventually locating and settling on a slate grey one instead, before closing his door behind him and heading downstairs in search of the dining room.

  CHAPTER TWO

  The scent reached him halfway down the stairs, enveloping him, making his mouth water. He wasn’t sure what to expect from the dining room, having only ever stayed in the finest hotels and partaking in their room service, but he was pretty sure this was not standard. The modest sized dining room held an oval table in the centre, with seating for twelve. A buffet table ran the length of one wall, and laden down with all manner of sinfully delicious treats. Plates of decadent chocolate filled pastries, thick slices of fruit toast, and miniature custard tartlets vied with dishes of fluffy scrambled eggs, plump little chipolatas, and golden hash browns. His stomach growled appreciatively, a blush creeping up his neck as five pairs of eyes turned, mid conversation, to look at him.

  “Caleb, good morning.” Gabby greeted him with a smile, “grab a plate and help yourself, you must be starving.” He did as she suggested, piling his plate with an embarrassing amount of food while she busied herself with refiling coffee cups.

  “Did you sleep well? We weren’t sure whether or not to wake you for dinner, and in the end, we decided that you obviously needed the sleep.” Caleb slid into the chair Gabby indicated. “Let me introduce you to everyone. These are my parents, Maria and Nico,” she indicated an older couple at the head of the table. The woman was plump, her face was guarded, showed signs of strain, and Caleb had no trouble imagining her wielding a rolling pin aloft at anyone who dared to go against her. The man was hunched in on himself, and Caleb wondered if he was warm enough. His face was friendly, open, and Caleb knew he would be quick to laugh. Caleb was surprised to see him in a wheelchair, how did he manage the stairs? “And these little monkeys are Lucia and Sofia,” she waved her hand towards two little girls currently giggling behind their hands. The resemblance was eerie.