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The second week brought both triumph and crisis in equal measure.
The work crew had settled into a rhythm—early starts, intense labour through the cooler morning hours, breaks during peak heat, then pushing through until six p.m. The roof stripping was nearly complete, the damaged verandah posts removed, and the interior cleared enough to begin structural assessment.
By the end of week two, three more workers had joined. A young bloke named Mitch—not the teacher, but a different Mitch who went by ‘Bluey’ to avoid confusion—came from a property near Barcaldine. Two brothers, Jack and Sam, drove up from a station near Blackall, looking for work between contracts.
‘More workers,’ Jake said Tuesday evening, studying his crew roster. ‘We have a decent-sized team now. We can start running concurrent work streams—roof replacement, foundation repairs, and interior structural work.’
‘How’s the budget tracking?’ Alex asked.
Jake’s expression turned serious. ‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about. We need to discuss the foundation.’
They gathered in the site office—Alex, Jake, Amelia, Sophie, Jill, and Tom. Jake spread structural drawings across the makeshift desk.
‘The engineer’s assessment identified issues we didn’t fully account for,’ Jake explained, pointing to sections of the drawings. ‘The eastern side has significant settlement. Three of the original stumps are actively failing—not just deteriorated, but actually compressing under load. If we don’t address it, the entire structure could shift.’
‘How bad?’ Alex asked, his voice tight.
‘Bad enough that we can’t continue work until it’s fixed,’ Jake said flatly. ‘If we keep adding weight—new materials, workers, equipment—we risk actual structural collapse. We need to jack up this entire section, remove the failed stumps, pour new concrete piers with proper reinforcement, and redistribute the load.’
‘How much will that cost?’ Amelia asked, though she already knew the answer would be terrible.
Jake was quiet, calculating. ‘Materials, equipment rental, concrete, steel—probably eighty to eighty-five thousand dollars. And it’ll add six weeks to our timeline.’
The silence in the office was deafening.
‘We don’t have eighty-five thousand dollars,’ Alex said finally. ‘But we can get a loan.’
‘Because the original assessment was done from outside,’ Jake said, frustration evident. ‘I should have checked the foundation more thoroughly before we started. This is on me.’
‘No,’ Tom said firmly. ‘Old buildings hide their problems. You did what any builder would do. But now we know, and we fix it.’
They emerged from the office to find the entire crew waiting, sensing bad news.
Jake explained the situation clearly and honestly. The foundation had to be replaced. It would cost money they didn’t have and time they’d hoped to avoid. But it wasn’t optional—without it, the building was genuinely dangerous.
‘So what do we do?’ Davo asked. ‘We can’t walk away.’
‘We don’t walk away,’ Amelia said, surprising herself with her certainty. ‘We find the money. Fundraise, apply for grants, ask for donations—whatever it takes.’
‘The Regional Community Foundation might help,’ Tom suggested. ‘They support heritage preservation projects.’
‘And we could approach local businesses,’ Jill added. ‘Frame it as economic development. Every business owner in the region benefits if Garnet Creek survives.’
‘I’ll talk to the council,’ Alex said. ‘See if there’s emergency heritage funding available.’
Jake was watching Amelia with an expression she couldn’t quite read. ‘You’re sure? This is a significant setback. No one would blame you for—’
‘We’re sure,’ Amelia said firmly, speaking for all three women without hesitation. Sophie and Jill nodded agreement. ‘We’ve come too far to quit over money.’
‘Right then,’ Jake said, and there was pride in his voice. ‘We’ve got foundation work to plan.’
That evening, whilst others worked on grant applications and donation requests, Amelia found herself in the site office with Jake, spreading architectural drawings across the makeshift desk.
‘Here,’ Jake said, pointing to the plans. ‘We’ll need to do the work in sections, keep the building supported whilst we replace stumps. It’s technically complex but doable.’
He talked through the methodology, marking sections on the plans. Amelia leaned in to see better, asking questions about load-bearing calculations and support sequencing. She was genuinely interested—the engineering fascinated her—but she was also acutely aware of Jake’s proximity. His shoulder brushing hers. The warmth of him in the cooling evening air. The way his voice dropped slightly when he was explaining something complex.
‘You understand this stuff intuitively,’ Jake said, pausing to look at her. ‘Most people struggle with three-dimensional structural thinking. You just... get it.’
