Margaret Way - Outback Wives Wanted!

“We’re not friends any more?”

“Were we ever friends?” he asked ironically, his dark eyes moving slowly over her.

She averted her head. “Maybe not. I’ve just had lunch with Rose.”

“So I heard,” he answered smoothly. “She thinks the world of you, Alana.”

“And I’m very fond of Rose. It’s Violette I like to keep a million miles from. Violette is still telling anyone who will listen Simon and I are two minutes from the altar. At least that’s what Rose just told me.”

He was looking at her white shirt, at the first three buttons undone, allowing a mere glimpse of the shadowed cleft between her breasts.

She felt she was burning alive, unable to lock out the memories of his hands on her.

“Well, I do hope you put her right!” he said.

Alana gave in to a wry laugh. “You should have seen her rush off with Simon. She told me about the job. She’s thrilled. It’s wonderful you’re giving her a chance, Guy. It’s what she needs. Rose is capable of so much more.”

“I did it for you, Alana, as you well know,” he returned bluntly.

“Excuse me?” She threw back her head, aglitter in the sunlight.

“Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you in the least. I did what you suggested. I set it up so Rose and Simon are thrown together. I understood that’s what you wanted?”

She heard the birds calling to one another, the bees droning, inhaled the nearly overpowering sweet scent of the cascades of white flowers. “Do you want me to go down on bended knee and thank you?”

He smiled. “Actually, that could be nice. Why don’t I drive you home instead? It’s damned hot, and I know for a fact the air conditioning in your ute has broken down.”

“Is there anything you don’t know? Anyway, there are such things as windows,” she pointed out. She who had been forced to spend several minutes fixing her windblown hair when she’d arrived.

“If you could manage a smile, I’ll get someone to fix it and deliver it back to the farm. Probably by tomorrow afternoon.”

She would be a fool to turn such an offer down. “I can’t let you do it, Guy.”

“But you can let me play matchmaker to get Simon off your back?”

She smarted—just as he’d intended. “I love Simon.”

“As a friend. Simon needs to be strong about recognising that fact. I’m sure Rose will do her very best to offer sympathy. I like Rose. As you say, there’s so much more to her than she’s been allowed to show. I think she can do this job, and do it well.”

“So do I!” Her note was overly emphatic, as though he might change his mind. “She’s ecstatic about it.”

His mouth twitched. “I think she’s more ecstatic about coming into daily contact with Simon. They’re both gentle people. I need hardly say you’re not!”

“Neither are you!” she shot back, affronted.

“You are going to let me drive you home, though?”

She stared up at him. “You’re an intimidating man when you want to be, Guy Radcliffe.”

He took her arm, leading her off to the reserved parking area, under shelter, where his car had pride of place. Once there, he opened the passenger door for her—but before she could make a move to slide into the leather seat he suddenly caught her chin, turned her face up to him and kissed her mouth.

She didn’t know if it was fierce or tender or a combination of both, but her legs turned as wobbly as a toddler’s.

“Lucky for you I’m not intimidating all the time,” he said, placing a hand on the top of her head and guiding her down into the passenger seat as though she were his prisoner.

The countryside revealed itself in gentle swells of hill and dale, in every possible shade of green. Alana was very sensitive to all the different shades of nature. Graceful, broad-domed shade trees lined the valley road, and in the huge paddocks some species of wattle had already begun to burst into the glowing masses of golden blossom that outstripped the display turned on by the red and pink flowering gums.

Alana stared through the window of the gently purring car as the Valley landscape flashed by. The interior was beautifully cool. The top-of-the-range car was a far, far cry from the farm utility or indeed anything she was used to.

It was the bluest of blue days. A day to rejoice in—though if the truth be known numerous anxieties were tugging at her heart. A few shape-shifting white clouds were gathering over the hills. One looked like the dove of peace, with its wings outstretched. She didn’t feel in the least peaceful. She was trying hard to resist the urge to touch her still pulsating mouth. Every kiss he gave her was more devastating than the last. If only she could read their true meaning. Tease away her doubts.

“Dad said such a strange thing to me before I left,” she confided.

Guy glanced at her with a quick frown. “Oh? What?”

“He said he was going to see Father Brennan to make his confession.”

Guy, being Guy, cut right to the heart of the matter. “What are you afraid of?”

“I believe Dad has a death wish.” Her tone betrayed her sorrow.

“It’s possible,” Guy agreed quietly. “Kieran and I are always on guard, but we can’t be with him all the time.”

“Where is Kieran today?”

She rested her head back. “He’s gone over to the Mangans to give them a hand. Mr Mangan isn’t properly on his feet after his operation.”

“Yes, I know,” Guy murmured, his mind clearly on other things. “You know your farm will have to go?”

She nodded in abject resignation. “Maybe you can give me a job, like Rose?” She heard the bitterness in her voice, then felt appalled by it. “I’m sorry. I know how that sounded.”

“I could buy Briar’s Ridge,” Guy said.

She turned her head to look at him in amazement. He had sounded serious. “You don’t need it.”

“No.”

“So why would you do it?”

A muscle clenched along his clean jawline. “I’d do it if it would get your father back on his feet.” So she did mean something to him. But what?

“I don’t believe it would,” she answered, on reflection. “Dad is sunk in—not apathy, it’s despair. He tried to make that ‘confession’ a joke but he can’t fool me. He told me, ‘There’s love and there’s love. ‘ He said he’d let a dream rule his life. That he wasn’t the one my mother wanted.”

“Isn’t that a confession?” Guy said with a strange note in his voice.

“You know it all, Guy. That’s why I’m telling you. In a way, your family and mine are bound together The richest family in the Valley, descendants of the old squattocracy, and an Irish immigrant who arrived in this country as a penniless boy with only a kindly great-aunt to take him in. Why did my mother choose the man she did? Why did my mother choose my father when even my father believes he wasn’t her heart’s choice?”

Guy took his time before he answered. “Your mother was pregnant at the time of her marriage, Alana. She married the father of her child. It’s as simple as that. She did what she believed was right.”

Tears choked her throat. “Do we even know that for sure? Why do Kieran and Alex act so strangely whenever they see one another? If I didn’t know better, I’d say Alex was Kieran’s woman of mystery. She certainly looks the part. Maybe they think they’re related? Maybe that’s what they’re afraid of?” She broke off, emotionally exhausted.

Guy’s dark eyes cut to her distraught profile. “Alan Callaghan was the father of Annabel’s child.” His voice had the ring of certainty. “Don’t make yourself sick toying with a fantasy. Although there is something odd in Kieran’s relationship with my sister. Whatever it is, it’s definitely not what you’ve just thrown in. You can get that out of your head right now. However your father won your mother—whatever method he used—it has haunted him. Believe me, Alana, Kieran is his son. Do you really think my father would have let his own child get away from him? Your mother alone made the decision to marry your father. She could not be dissuaded. Anyway, as a family you always gave the appearance of being happy. You were happy. Leave it at that, Alana. There’s nothing to be gained by asking too many painful questions to which you might never get an answer.”