Margaret Way - Outback Bachelor / The Cattleman's Adopted Family - Outback Bachelor / The Cattleman's Adopted Family

Of special interest to her were the ghost gums. What wonderful trees they were, with their pure white silky-to-the-touch boles. They made such a brilliant contrast to the rich red soil and the bright violet-blue sky. She was lying on her back, trying to get as low as possible so she could get in as much as she could of the trees and their wonderful sculptural branches

That was the way Keefe found her. He must have spotted the station Jeep at the base of the foothills and followed her trail. He knew about her burgeoning interest in photography but he hadn’t as yet seen her work. She and Keefe were separated these days, weren’t they? But in their own way they remained tied.

It was really strange, the connection. A silver cord that could never be cut.

“Won’t be a minute,” she said, trying to bring full concentration back to her shot. She had been thinking so much about Keefe lately she had almost driven herself crazy.

“Take your time.” With a faint sigh he lowered his lean frame onto a nearby boulder. Curiously it was shaped like a primitive chair, the back and the seat carved and smoothed to a high polish over aeons.

“I was hoping to take a few shots of the sunset,” she explained, beginning to get up. “Djinjara’s sunsets are glorious.”

He stood immediately, put out a hand, helped her to her feet.

Skin on skin. For a disconcerting moment it was almost as though he had pressed her hand to his lips. How susceptible was the flesh! It had been a blazingly hot day so she was wearing brief denim shorts and a pink cotton shirt tied loosely at the waist over one of her bikini tops. Quite a bit of her was on show. She wasn’t supposed to be on show, was she?

“You’re really into this, aren’t you?” he asked, a trace of the old indulgence in his voice.

“Love it,” she said, whisking a long shining wave of her hair off her flushed face. She had tied it back in a ponytail but the wind had gone to work on the neat arrangement. “It would take a lifetime but one of my ambitions is to photograph as much as I can of our great untouched land,” she confided, knowing he would understand. No one loved the land more than Keefe. The land was a passion they shared. “I can’t wait for the miracle of the wildflowers.”

“Your special time,” he said.

His diamond-bright eyes moved to rest on her with such an unsettlingly tender expression that her body might have been a long-stemmed blossom.

“ Our special time.” She managed a smile, tingling to the tips of her fingers. “I loved every moment I spent with you as a child. But those were the halcyon days, weren’t they? We’ve moved on.”

“ You’ve moved on,” he said, a touch grimly. “ I’m still here.”

“You wouldn’t be anywhere else,” she scoffed.

“Don’t you miss it?” He leaned into the boulder with a characteristically elegant slouch. Keefe had such grace of movement. He had discarded his wide-brimmed hat, his luxuriant black hair thick and tousled, his darkly tanned skin glittering with the lightest sweat.

“Of course I miss it!” she said fervently, betraying her sense of loss. “I’ll probably miss it all my life.”

“So what’s your life going to be, Skye?” he questioned, his eyes a sharply observant silver.

“I haven’t figured that out yet.” Immediately she was on the defensive.

“Well, you’re only twenty.” He shrugged. “But you must have a whole string of admirers by now?”

“No more than you,” she shot back.

“Now you’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m not being ridiculous at all,” she said heatedly. “What about Fiona Fraser? She stayed glued to your side at the party. Then there’s Clementine. I like Clemmie. Your second cousin Angela has become very glamorous. And she’s a gifted pianist.”

“So she is,” he nodded. “A conservatorium graduate. Angela is a city girl.”

“Here we go!” she answered breezily. “That counts her out, then. City girls are trouble. So we’re back to Fiona.”

“ You’re back to Fiona, and I thought you were a hell of a lot smarter. I’m twenty-six years old, Skye. Twenty-six to your twenty. I have no thought of marriage on my mind.”

“As yet. You have to be aware you’re one of the biggest catches in the country.’ It came to her that she was deliberately winding him up. It was really crazy of her, wanting to pick a fight.

“Then you know way more than I do.” He dismissed that impatiently. “I’m the guy who’s being groomed to one day take over not only a cattle empire but Dad’s numerous business interests as well. We’ve been diversifying for a long time now.”

“No one ever said the McGoverns weren’t smart.” She made a wry face, one hand making a move to button up her shirt. Only it was too darned obvious. The bikini top was pretty skimpy. Not that Keefe was looking at her in that way. The sad thing was he could arouse her most potent, erotic feelings with a single glance.

She wanted…wanted…What did she want? She was still a virgin. No frustration attached to that state. She had plenty of friends. Male and female. It was simply that no young man she had met had come close to measuring up to Keefe. That was the pity of it.

A pity beyond all telling is hid in the heart of love. Blake, his “Songs of Innocence”. She felt like an innocent, a babe in the woods.

There was a frown on Keefe’s dynamic face as he watched her. “Don’t you feel safe here, Skye?” he asked.

The seriousness of his tone cut across her reverie. “What a question!” Her hand dropped to her side. Why was she so nervous of revealing her body to Keefe? She was oblivious to all the stares she received whenever she visited a beach. Then she thought: It’s Keefe! It’s always Keefe.

Dusk was closing in. Shrieking, the legions of birds were starting to home into the density of trees that lined the maze of watercourses, lagoons, swamps and creeks on the station. It was an awe-inspiring sight, the sheer numbers.

“Answer it,” Keefe said in a firm voice.

She stared at him. “You sound stressed.”

“Maybe I am.” He swatted at a dragonfly with iridescent wings. It seemed bent on landing on his head. “Scott won’t bother you,” he said, his expression formidable.

Scott? Scott wasn’t even an afterthought. “I’m not worried about Scott, Keefe,” she assured him quickly. “We’re getting along. You warned him off. He heeded your message. You love your brother, don’t you?”

He plunged an impatient hand through his hair, fingers splaying into the distinctive McGovern widow’s peak. “Of course I do,” he said edgily. “But like you I know he has a callous streak. I don’t want to see that turned on women.”

“Of course not!” She couldn’t control a shudder, acutely aware he was monitoring her every movement and expression. “Is he interested in Jemma Templeton?” She knew for a fact Jemma had always had a crush on Scott.

“Why do you want to know?” His silver eyes blazed.

She swallowed at his tone. It was so clipped it provoked a flash of anger. “No particular reason,” she answered shortly. “Just making conversation. I have no interest in Scott, Keefe. Take my word for it.”

It’s you I love.

“Sometimes I get so tired of it all.” Unexpectedly he made the admission. “Not the job. I can handle that. Handle the lot.” He paused, studying her closely. “Nothing is the same between us, is it, Skye? The ease has gone with the wind.”

He hadn’t moved, yet she felt she had been taken into a passionate embrace. “You sound like you’re grieving for what we lost.” Despite that and the angst of his tone, she had an escalating sense of excitement, so intense she knew it was carrying her close to peril.