In the early 1800s the penal colony of Botany Bay was an unforgiving and harsh place. Isabella O'Shea is transported to New South Wales for wounding a member of the British aristocracy who raped her, so it is understandable that she loathes members of the upper class and the system that punished her; sentenced her to seven years transportation. Dumped in Australia off a convict ship from England, a few of the erstwhile convicts made their way across the vast untamed country.

"There, that's my grant." Pride filled Tiger's voice when they stopped at the boundary of his land. Studying the map once again, he nodded, breathing in deeply as he looked about him. "Have you ever seen such fertile pasture?"

Lush meadows stretched before them, a fresh and verdant carpet. Along the horizon behind them the mountains shimmered in their haze of blue. Isabella found it hard to believe they'd crossed their mighty heights. If not for this proud and stubborn man it would have been impossible.

Tiger dismounted, reverently patting the smooth silvery trunk of a ghostly eucalyptus tree. He bent to run his fingers through the grass, seeming to savor its feel as if praising the Lord for the good fortune that brought him here.

"We'll build up yonder, away from the river flats," he declared, grinning up at her as he gestured to a plateau on a gently rising slope. "Then we need not fear that the river will flood us when it runs high. Right, we'll make camp there." He pointed to a rise. "It's not too far from the river to make hard work of carrying water. I'll dig you a well, Bella, as soon as we get settled."