Margaret Way - The Cattleman

“How absolutely thrilling!” Tim broke in enthusiastically. “I know the name.”

“It gets better. He’s offered De Vere’s a huge commission. Specifically he wants Jass to handle the entire interior design for his new Outback temple.”

Tim’s expression turned to one of amazement. He stared from one to the other. “You’re making this up, aren’t you?”

“No, Tim, we’re not,” Brett replied, somewhat testily this time. “Hand him the fax, would you, Jass. Bannerman saw her interview with Bruce Hilton and was so impressed he shot off that little lot.”

Tim scanned the fax quickly, then looked up. “Good grief, I’m blown away. So is she going? It’s a big job.”

“One never knows what one is capable of until one tries,” said Brett. “Of course she’s going. There’s plenty we can do to help and advise. It’s a huge commission. There’s bound to be good coverage and flow-ons for us.”

Tim’s brow furrowed. “Are you comfortable about sending Jessica by herself? She’s our baby. Now I think about it, wasn’t there some murder up there? Passed into Outback folklore? Remember, we found the Outback one scary place.”

“Hell, Tim, don’t say that to anyone else,” Brett begged. “What would people think?”

“Who cares what people think?” Tim said. “On the other hand people might agree if they’d been there. Those Olgas, they were fantastic, if kinda forbidding.”

“Look—” Brett tried to be patient “—forget the Olgas, okay? Incidentally, they’ve been renamed Kata Tjuta. A governess disappeared. A tragedy certainly, but no murder. An accident befell her some fifty years ago, but alas there was no body. Bannerman is perfectly respectable. He’s one of the richest, most influential men in the country. He’s not a drug lord. I’m certain Jass will be safe. I’d never let her go if I thought otherwise. She’s young for such a big commission, but that shouldn’t be a deterrent. She’s genuinely gifted and she’ll have plenty of backup. If for some reason Bannerman turns out to be straight out of a Stephen King novel, she can come home.”

“You want to do this, Jessica?” Tim still looked unsettled.

“Hey, of course I do.” She shook his arm. “I’ll be able to brag about it for the rest of my days. Don’t worry, Timmy. It should be quite an adventure.” She started to unwrap his little present. “Ooh, earrings. Aren’t they lovely?” She leaned over and kissed him. “Victorian.”

He nodded. “I knew you’d like them. I picked them up at Maggie Reeves. She has some really nice stuff.”

“You spoil her,” Brett said, sitting forward to look.

“You should talk!” Tim shot back.

“I’m her uncle.”

“And I’m her honorary uncle.”

“Stop, you two. These are lovely, Timmy. Thank you.” Jessica was delighted with the gift—drop earrings, peridots set in gold. She had a jewelery box filled with the little gifts Tim had given her since she was a child. Bracelets, gold chains, pretty pendants, a crystal-encrusted sea horse that she still loved and wore as a pin. “They’ll go beautifully with that vintage dress of mine. The green chiffon.” Sometimes she felt very sad that neither her uncle nor Tim would have children. They were loving, caring people. They had been wonderful to her.

“My pleasure, love.” Tim smiled, picking up Bannerman’s fax again. “They reckon there’s a dark side to this Bannerman?”

“Tim, dear, there’s a dark side to us all,” Brett responded. “Not even you are nice all the time. If you’re concerned, maybe you can fly up with Jass.”

“Both of us? I would go, but I’m sure they don’t want me.”

“Not to mention how having a babysitter would make me look,” Jessica protested. “What else do we know about this man?”

“Well—” Brett drew another piece of paper, hitherto unseen, from the pile on his desk “—he has a son, Cyrus. His mother was the heiress, Deborah Masters. Masters Electronics.”

“You said was? She’s dead?” Jessica inserted one of the earrings in her right earlobe, remembering Tim had gone along with her for support when she’d had her ears pierced a few years back and had been a little fearful of needles.

“A riding accident,” Brett informed them. “That was in the early 1990s. Bannerman remarried. A woman with a child of her own. A daughter, Robyn. Neither wife was particularly lucky. The second suffered from some rare syndrome—I don’t know exactly what. She died two years ago.”

“How very bizarre,” muttered Tim, trying to grapple with all this. “It’s right up there with the Olgas.”

“Don’t be silly, Tim.” Sternly, Brett held his partner’s gaze. “Tragedies happen.”

“Indeed they do. But Bannerman could be looking for a new wife. He could fall in love with Jessica on sight.”

Jessica laughed, but Brett blustered testily, “God almighty, Tim! I think you’re losing it. Bannerman has to be nearing sixty.”

“That’s not a good answer.” Tim resolutely dug in. “He could live for years and years. Aging men often turn to young women. Especially rich old men.”

“He’s hardly an old man,” Brett said caustically. “You’re nearly fifty.”

“Forty-eight, thank you. Same as you. Keep it up and you’ll really hurt my feelings.”

“Stop it, you two,” Jessica intervened again. “I’m not in the running for Wife Number Three.” She took Tim’s hand in hers. “Broderick Bannerman is old enough to be my father. Grandfather, if he were exceptionally precocious.”

“For all we know, temptation could be overwhelming in the Outback,” Tim said. “There’s a real shortage of women. Besides, men never get falling in love with the young and beautiful out of their system,” he warned. “I know I sound overanxious, but there’s something a little odd here, Jass. You know how intuitive I am. No matter how gifted you are, you’re young and inexperienced. I know you’ve won that nomination and you deserve to carry off the prize, but why not Brett, for instance? He’s a colossus in the industry. Well, he thinks so.”

“I know so.” Brett was pleased to see Jessica elbow Tim hard. “For God’s sake, Tim, what are you on about?” Brett was irritated that some of Tim’s concern was starting to rub off on him.

“I’m not sure.” Tim shook his head. “I live by my intuitions.”

“And your intuitions tell you Bannerman has an ulterior motive in choosing Jessica?”

“Amazing, but true. I should join a training class for psychics. Seriously, I just had to get it off my chest. I don’t actually know why.”

“Then why are you trying to put us off?”

“I’m not,” Tim protested. “I’m only trying to say Bannerman mightn’t be quite the man he seems. Sounds to me like he’s been struck by lightning.”

“Lightning!” Brett said irritably. “How you give yourself over to the sensational!”

“Sensational?” Tim protested. “Men have been making complete asses of themselves over young women since forever. Besides, what man ever thinks he’s too old?”

“Look, Timmy, I’ve dreamed about doing something like this.” Jessica sought to calm Tim down. “You know you tend to worry about me too much.”

“True.” Tim’s face broke out in his easy smile again. “I wouldn’t mind if you were working within shouting distance, or even Sydney. But the Northern Territory! Hell, you might as well be rocketing off to Mars.”

“Tim, dear, stop talking,” Brett advised. “It’s all fevered nonsense, anyway. Jass wants the job. I want her to have it. It’ll be a considerable step up the ladder. If the slightest thing happens to cause her concern, she’s to drop everything and come home.”