Only a true heroine could not only survive, but prosper, when she finds herself an unwilling passenger on a ship transporting convicts to Australia.
Devon Wakefield only wanted to escape the unwanted attentions of her lustful stepfather. Yet her hiding place proved to be a doorway to a new life. Having inadvertently stumbled onto a convict ship bound for New South Wales in 1787, no one would believe her when she said she didn’t belong there. So, like it or not, she was on her way to a new home. On the banks of Sydney Harbor, Devon found strange new animals and people who would become her friends. She learned that she had an extraordinary talent and love for farming. And above all, she discovered the love of her life: Lieutenant Jonathan Lake of His Majesty’s Navy. The first few years in Australia brought nothing more pleasant than poverty and starvation. However, as the colony grew more prosperous, so did Devon. Yet as successful as she was as a farmer, Devon’s heart was broken. For Jonathan was gone, and she had been forced to marry another man. Sometimes it seemed as though Devon would never find love again - that all life promised her was work, work, and more work. Then, back in London. Jonathan makes a bizarre discovery that sets him and Devon back on the road to reunion and to true love.
"Now!" said Manjiree. "Breathe in the smoke! Listen to the drum! Look into the crystal!" She began beating out a slow, steady, rhythmic sound on her drum, then broke into a strange, haunting chant in the Iora language. Devon and Lindy fixed their gazes on the crystal suspended over the fire . . .
Suddenly [Devon] seemed to be floating through the air. She could no longer hear the music . . . Then she was in a bedroom. It was just beginning to be lit with the first light of dawn - enough for Devon to see that there was a man asleep on the bed.
Embarrassed, she wanted to leave, but felt compelled to approach the bed. She looked into the man's face. It was Jonathan. She tried to reach out and stroke his forehead, but her hand passed through it; she pulled her hand back in shock . . .
Suddenly she was back around the fire again. Manjiree was still chanting and playing her drum . . .
Devon broke away from them and ran . . . to the nearest tree, where she collapsed. "Jonathan, oh, Jonathan!" she cried out. "Will I never see you again?"