An outback affair, p.9
An Outback Affair, page 9
“Hey, Cassie, don’t worry. I mess up all the time.”
Cheeks flaming, she returned to the sofa and ate with a daintiness that would shame a heroine out of a Victorian novel.
Joel ate his meal, never removing his ever-alert gaze until she finished eating. He then approached her. “Finished?”
She nodded.
“Can I tempt you with more?”
“Er, no. I’ve had elegant sufficiency.”
He took the now empty plate and placed it on the table. “Care for some music?”
“Nice.”
“Any preferences?”
“Nothing too heavy.”
“Edith Piaf?”
“Lovely.” She rested her head back against the sofa as the sounds of Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien filled the room. The music brought to mind Piaf’s sad life and the way the title and lyric so eloquently expressed her attitude to life. In her private life, Piaf was as tormented as the heroines of her songs, and she’d had many relationships, most causing her severe emotional damage.
It made Cassie wonder at the frailties of women where the men they loved were concerned.
She stirred restlessly as Joel left his chair and sat on the sofa next to her. He placed his arm across the back of sofa, behind her head, his fingers idly playing with the loose strands of her hair. She fought the urge to jump his bones. Instead she said, “It’s been a long day and I’m bushed. I’ll say good night and hit the sack.”
He scrambled to his feet. “I’m so unaccustomed to having guests at Oriole it seems I’ve forgotten my manners.”
He took her hand and she pretended she didn’t care, pretended that the touch of his hand on hers wasn’t sweet and comforting.
Fool.
What if she fell in love with him? Where would that leave her? Up a muddy creek with no paddle.
Loving Joel would hurt.
Besides, she had no intention of falling for him. He was handsome and sexy and her hormones were raging — quite natural, really. Just a case of “your bed or mine.”
Too much water under the bridge. His brother’s life was ruined through Claudia’s lies and false recriminations and her own difficulty in accepting and admitting the truth. Then there was the ugly question of whether or not Joel wanted to keep Sam on Oriole. Cassie’s heart ached.
He’d be glad if she left Sam here on Oriole and then disappeared from Joel’s life as if she’d never existed.
She would never be convinced otherwise.
• • •
This red-headed woman had him jumping. Her green eyes, the way she moved and talked, her love for Sam, and her defense of her sister showed him what a proud and in control woman she was. He found it difficult to keep his hands in his pockets. Why did she occupy his thoughts dawn to dusk? The taste of her mouth. Okay, so he wanted her. Surely that was normal. She was a beautiful, sexy woman any man would want in his bed.
He ran his hands over his face. Idiot. He didn’t want to start anything with Cassie that couldn’t be finished. Too much at stake here. Sam was important to him, his grandmother, and for the future of Oriole.
He had no intention of letting Sam go now that he was here on Oriole. And he knew Cassie would fight tooth and nail to keep him.
He closed his eyes and concentrated on his problem. There had to be a way.
What he had to work out was how not to hurt Cassie.
CHAPTER TEN
After a restless night, Cassie woke feeling leaden and lethargic. She had tossed and turned for hours, finally falling into a drug-like sleep.
She looked around the beautiful room she’d slept in. Any woman would love to live in such a grand house.
Melbourne seemed a long way away. Another world, another time, and another life. A life without Joel.
She crawled out of bed, wrapping a white terrycloth bathrobe around her body.
Cassie moved to the open window and took a whiff of the soft warm air. She stared into the vastness that was Oriole. Over five hundred thousand acres of magnificent outback country stretched before her. Untouched by nature, everything was how it was meant to be. And most of its inhabitants were the cattle that roamed and dined on its rich, green pastures.
She’d studied the map of Australia that lined the large wall of the library. The Kimberley wasn’t too difficult to locate, situated at the far north of Western Australia.
Then a book on the Kimberley caught her attention. When she had returned to her room, she spent ages reading up on the area. From the Pearl Coast of Broome in the west to the historic town of Wyndham in the east, the Kimberley was a vast and exciting wilderness area. It was one of the most remote regions of Australia and was considered one of its last wilderness frontiers.
Shouts of laughter made her look down. Sam was in the garden with Berta. Cassie raised the window higher and leaned out, “Hi, down there. What’s going on?”
Sam waved. “Hi, Aunty C,” he yelled. “Berta got me out of bed and dressed me, and I came down with her to the kitchen, and we had breakfast and I ate it all up. Didn’t I, Berta?”
“You sure did, Sam. You ate every last crumb.”
“Good boy, Sam. What are you doing now?”
Of course Sam would think it so wonderful being on Oriole, and having Berta’s kindness, Joel taking him under his wing, protecting him, guiding him, and his grandmother to love him. She felt a sense of sadness; this was all a little boy could wish for.
“I’m playing with Berta.” He grabbed a ball and tossed it into the air, catching it on its downward journey. “See how good I are? I catched the ball.”
“Very clever, Sam.” She smiled at the housekeeper. “Morning, Berta.”
“Good-morning, Cassie. It’s a wonderful day.”
“Seems too hot already.”
“Hot? Are you kidding? This is mild.”
Cassie laughed. “I’m used to Victoria and its four seasons in a day weather.”
“You’ll love it here — when you get used to the heat, that is.”
“Have you been here long?”
“Born and bred in Derby. I came to Oriole a few years back when my husband died, and my kids had all grown up and travelled away. Joel advertised for a companion for his mother, so I came here to look after the missus while she’s crook. Sort of fell into looking after Joel as well.”
“I imagine they can’t do without you now.”
“Don’t reckon they can.” Berta shielded her eyes against the glare of the sun. “I’ll prepare you some breakfast when you come down.”
Food did nothing to excite her. “Don’t bother. Although I’d like some coffee, if that’s not too much trouble.”
“Trouble? No trouble at all. I’ll leave coffee on the veranda. Just help yourself when you’re ready. Is it all right if Sam stays with me? He’s going to help me make those lamingtons.”
“Thanks, I’d appreciate that.”
Showered and dressed in a loose flowing skirt of Indian cotton and matching shirt, Cassie made her way to the veranda. It was only nine o’clock and sticky hot already. Outside on the gravel path, the old Labrador lay on his side, panting as if he hadn’t had a drink of water for days. The bees didn’t buzz around the flowers with their usual high spirits. They seemed content to stay on the one bud and then fly listlessly off into the sky.
There was a promise in the air of days of endless heat. She glanced at the sky. It was cloudless and an austere blue.
Everything was in readiness for her on the verandah. Berta was a veritable gem. With a flick of the switch, the percolator dripped black aromatic coffee into the glass jug.
She poured coffee into a cup and with a what-the-heck shrug to her shoulders, stirred in a dollop of cream and one sugar. She tasted the coffee. “I need the boost,” she said aloud, and added another spoonful of sugar.
Cup in hand, she sat back in a chair, crossed her legs, sipped her coffee, and thought of the only thing that had occupied her mind since he had walked into her life — Joel.
Outside the mesh wire enclosure she heard the soft bell-like notes of the black-banded whiteface. And a sense of wellbeing overcame her.
In the distance, Joel approached the house. Her heart took up a familiar stirring. He strode like a man with purpose, as if he owned the universe and felt right about its possession. As if he knew what he was about and lived his life the way he chose, afraid of nothing, allowing nothing to stand in his way towards achieving his goal.
He’d created Oriole from bare, harsh ochre land — worked hard and long to make the station the success it was. Now he was wealthy and could rest on his laurels, but that wasn’t what he was made of. He took life by the horns and grappled it into submission.
He was a few feet away now. He removed his hat and wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand. The sun glinted on his hair like fire on gold. And, as if he knew she was staring at him, his lean hips swaggered.
His raw energy. His blatant sexuality. The sheer height and breadth of him took her breath away.
There were not many men who commanded attention completely as Joel did. When he walked into a room all eyes fixed on him. The air crackled around him. He gave off an aura of strength, instilled a confidence that somehow he would make everything right and just knowing him made a person feel secure.
“Coffee smells good.”
So deep in thought, she jerked, and coffee spilt on to her skirt. “Help yourself,” she said, dabbing at the stain with a napkin.
His laugh was friendly. “You always seem to be spilling your food.”
She smiled. “I need a keeper.”
His blue eyes twinkled. “Hmm, I’m a pretty good watchdog. Want I should watch over you?”
“Don’t bother, I’ll wear a bib.”
“Where’s Sam?”
“In the kitchen with Berta. She’s taken quite a shine to him and evidently the reverse applies.” She hesitated then said, “This is great for him here at Oriole.”
His smile broadened. “This is Sam’s home, now and in the future.”
Dread washed through her and a warning bell sounded at the back of her head. It wasn’t what he said, it was how he said it. As if Sam would never leave here.
Leaning back, he hooked his thumbs inside the waistband of his jeans. Their eyes connected. His gaze lazily appraised her. “Yours, too, if you want.” His voice had an infinitely compassionate tone. He was assuming she would have to return to Melbourne without Sam. No way would she do that; Melbourne was her life, she loved it, couldn’t wait to get back to it. But Sam was coming with her. She’d happily let him stay with the Caines in school holidays, anything more than that was definitely a no-go.
“Thanks.”
“Are you feeling at home here? No problems? Everything okay?”
“Everything’s fine.”
“If you need anything, you’ll let me know?”
“Yes, of course.
As he poured his coffee, she couldn’t take her gaze away from him. His blond hair, ruffled by the wind, tumbled gently down his forehead, and the glorious blue of his eyes outshone the vivid blue of the sky behind him.
He lowered into a chair opposite her. Placing the heels of his boots on to another chair, he crossed his long, well-muscled legs, uttering a small sigh of satisfaction.
There was so much more to this man than just male beauty. There was intelligence, honor, and a fierce pride, and something else, something so vital it took her breath away - tenderness.
“You must have been up early this morning.”
“New cattle arrived,” he said placing his cup on to the table. “Any biscuits?”
“Yes.” She pushed a plate of homemade ginger nuts within his reach.
He chose the largest on the plate, and took a generous bite. “I want to take Sam on a camping trip. Show him some of Oriole, and the outlying areas. Give him a feel of the place.” He finished off the biscuit.
Camping in such rough terrain? She frowned, her chest tightening. “He’s too young,” she protested.
“Old enough to begin learning about his inheritance,” he assured her.
“I don’t know. He’s only four.”
He gazed deeply into her eyes. “But he’ll be with me. I wouldn’t let anything hurt Sam. Ever.”
“How long will you be gone?”
“Not long. A couple of days — three at the most.” He added, with a grin that immediately reminded her of Sam when he was about to do something mischievous, “Aw, but Cassie, you must come, too.”
Her eyes flew wide open. “Me! I’d spoil your trip.”
His grin was wicked. Her heart beat a tattoo. “I doubt that. Would you like to come?”
Desert storms? Black nights full of blue stars? Alone with Joel? Hmm, nice image. “Yes, very much, except — ”
“Except what?”
“I have this innate fear of snakes. Ridiculous I suppose.” She shrugged.
“I can’t say, there are no snakes in the outback so it’s rare that you’re bothered by them.”
She weighed him with a critical squint. “Do you have a tent with a wood plank floor and a zip up front?”
“Swag.”
“Swag?” she repeated. “I’ve never quite known what that is, exactly.”
“It’s a bush-traveler’s bundle, a portable canvas bed or sleeping bag for outback travel.”
“Sounds deluxe. Every woman should have one.”
He winked. “Comes in a variety of colors,” he teased.
She grinned. “I must tell you I failed miserably as a camper. When I was a kid, my nanny insisted we go; she said camping was a way of conversing with nature.”
“You went camping with your grandmother?”
“No, my nanny. My parents travelled a lot. I had a nanny until I was ten, then I went to boarding school.”
He raised a bushy eyebrow. “Surely that’s unusual?”
“My parents were unusual.”
“How old were you when they died?”
“I was seventeen. Claudia was thirteen.”
He shot up. “My God, then you raised Claudia as well.”
“Seems I was meant to have children, but something went wrong somewhere.”
Joel’s eyebrows rose, encouraging her to go on with her story.
“After many attempts, Nanny finally got a fire going. She asked me to pour some water from her five-liter carrier into a ridiculously small tin-billy to boil for tea. She got out bacon and sausages to cook over the flames.” She breathed out on a long sigh.
“What happened?”
“I tripped and upended the water. I doused the fire, ruined her only box of matches, and swamped the bacon and sausages.” She ignored his laughter and continued. “Nanny took me home swearing it was her last camping adventure with me.” She cocked her head. “Still want me to go?”
He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand. “I’ll keep you away from the fire. My dad had me out in the bush as soon as I took my first step.”
“I suppose you were branding cattle, breaking-in wild brumbies, and leaping tall buildings in a single bound at five?”
“Something like that.”
His feet came to the floor as he leaned toward her. He was so handsome that her blood soared through her veins like a thunderous waterfall. She concentrated on a red-winged parrot feeding on the seeds of eucalypts. The beautiful bird raised its wings for a moment before flying away with deliberate, rhythmic wingbeats, weaving its way through the trees with remarkable dexterity.
He leaned over and kissed the tip of her nose. “I’m taking Sam with me now.”
“Where?”
“The yards. Meet the men. Show him the animals. He’ll love that.”
He was right. Sam would enjoy it all. Love every second of it.
He stood, and raising her from the chair, took her in to his arms. “We won’t be long.”
“I’ll go talk to Queenie.”
She knew he was going to kiss her. Oh no, not again. Never again. “Don’t even think about it, Joel,” Cassie warned.
He laughed. “What?”
“And don’t act the innocent. You were going to kiss me.”
“Maybe, maybe not.” He leant in and wound his arm around her waist. Her heart fluttered as excitement caught her unawares. “You smell so good,” he murmured lowering his head his mouth touched hers.
She moved away from him. “No means no, Joel.”
“Sorry. I overstepped the mark. Won’t happen again.”
“So you keep telling me.”
With a nod he left her. Cassie felt very alone.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Cassie spent time in the library reading. Around eleven, and in search of company, she left the library, climbed the stairs and knocked on Queenie’s door. At her response, Cassie entered the bedroom, and was acknowledged by a welcoming smile.
“Good morning, Cassie.” Queenie put down the book she was reading, and took off her glasses. “What a pleasant surprise. I was hoping you’d come and visit me.”
“I wondered if I could get you something to drink or eat? Tea or coffee, a slice of cake, maybe? Berta’s baked a batch of lamingtons.”
“Talking to you is enough.” She patted the edge of the bed. “Sit beside me.”
Cassie nestled on to the edge of the bed. Queenie looked so much better today; there was a flush in her cheeks that hadn’t been there yesterday, and her eyes were bright. Seeing her grandson had definitely cheered her up no end. Just what the doctor ordered.
