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Authors: Lynne Wilding

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Curtis shifted his weight from one foot to the other and, clearly uncomfortable said, ‘I’ll step out onto the verandah.’

‘No, I want you to hear what I have to say.’ Her stare, aimed at Curtis, vetoed his escape. ‘I’m sure Bren told you I offered to sell some property in England and use the proceeds to get the bank off our backs.’

Her use of the word ‘our’ wasn’t lost on Curtis. His eyebrows rose momentarily then settled. ‘Bren told me.’ Pointing to an easy chair, he invited, ‘Please sit down, Vanessa.’ He glanced at Bren then went on. ‘I believe Bren said he wasn’t interested, that he’d find another way to get the funds.’

Vanessa’s mouth tightened with impatience. She had expected a united front and that’s what she was getting. ‘We know that’s impossible, unless he accepts your uncle’s offer or asks your mother. He says he doesn’t want to do either.’

‘In the end he might have to do one or the other,’ Curtis said matter-of-factly, but his tone was not enthusiastic.

‘I think we both believe that would be a mistake.’ Vanessa was trying to keep her cool. If she was going to convince both Selby men she would need to keep a clear head and a cap on her temper. She watched Bren, trying to gauge what he was feeling, thinking. That he wouldn’t look at her told her something, and in response some of her anger diffused. He still looked as he had a little while ago, so … lost, as if solving the problem of Amaroo was beyond him.

‘My offer still stands and I’m hurt that neither of you,’ she stared first at Bren then at Curtis, ‘will consider it. Amaroo has become my home too. I don’t want it put in jeopardy, especially when there’s no need to.’ She spoke with a patience that amazed her when, deep down she wanted to scream at their joint male bullheadedness.

‘Like you, I have a stake in what happens here. If you must, look upon it as a business proposition, a straight out loan,’ she said.
To ease your pride
, she thought. ‘It makes sense, and there won’t be any problem selling my Bourton on the Water property — the Cotswolds is a popular, picturesque part of England.’ She waited for one of them to respond.

‘It would only be acceptable if it were regarded as a loan to be paid back when the property’s profits allow it.’ Curtis made the suggestion on Bren’s behalf. His gaze flashed to Bren who had his head down and appeared to have his thoughts elsewhere.

‘If you like,’ she agreed. If that proviso created a balm for their male pride she had no problem with it. ‘Pay me when you can. Afterwards, I’ll invest it in a Darwin property from which I can derive an
income. That would be a win-win situation for all of us.’ She didn’t like it that Curtis appeared to be doing all the thinking and the talking for Bren and the property. She didn’t like that at all. But she had to put that thought behind her — the important thing was that both of them understood that she wouldn’t be diverted from doing what had to be done, wounded pride or no wounded pride!

‘What do you think, Bren?’ she asked quietly, seeking a response from him.

‘It could work that way,’ Curtis said slowly, having thought it through.

Bren looked, not at Vanessa but at Curtis, and said, ‘You think so?’

‘Yes.’ Curtis and Vanessa said in unison.

‘The important thing is to keep Amaroo going. The problem is short-term, but we know that the bank could get nasty.’ She had a mental image of the bank trying to foreclose, of Bren losing everything his parents and grandparents had created. ‘Curtis,’ she stared directly at him, ‘it’s up to you to convince Bren to accept my idea. I believe you can be persuasive when you want to be.’ More than once she had seen him diffuse tension between Nova and her parents, and mediate between arguing station hands.

The corners of Curtis’s mouth turned down, implying that he didn’t appreciate her frankness. ‘It could be a few years before you’d be fully paid back.’

Vanessa shrugged a shoulder, unconsciously mimicking his earlier movement. She continued to observe him chew the side of his mouth for a few
seconds, mulling over what she’d said. Normally his features were inscrutable; but for a brief time she had seen distrust be replaced by something else — respect. God, had his ex-wife done such a job on him that he was loath to trust anything a woman said? She hoped not.

‘Look, I know you don’t like me very much. I can live with that as long as you understand that I sincerely want to help. Not you,’ she saw him wince, ‘but my husband and Amaroo.’

‘Phew!’ Curtis’s head jerked back with surprise. ‘You come right out and say what you think, don’t you?’

She noted that he didn’t dispute what she’d said about him not liking her. So what! She was sufficiently mature to know that one couldn’t be liked by everyone.

‘When I have to.’ She stood and moved to the door. ‘I love Bren and I love Amaroo. If you feel the same you’ll help Bren to see that this offer is what he needs at this point in time.’

And then, without waiting for him to answer her, and not looking at Bren either, she made her way out of the cottage. From what she had gleaned about Curtis, he wasn’t the type who made snap decisions. He would think about what she’d said, weigh things up before he made up his mind. Grudgingly, she was developing a sense of admiration for Curtis Selby. He seemed more in tune with Amaroo’s needs and more businesslike than the man she’d married. And, the bottom line was that she believed he was the only one able to persuade Bren that using what she offered was smart, and
that he’d do it in such a way that her husband’s pride was not seriously dented.

Back in her bedroom, Vanessa checked the time on the digital alarm clock. It would be early morning in London. She wasn’t going to wait until Bren and Curtis debated her suggestion. She would call Kerri now and instruct her to put the property on the market, and she wouldn’t allow any argument from her friend should she try to sway her otherwise.

After Vanessa left, Curtis stared at the closed door while he reorganised his thoughts. He didn’t like changes or surprises and tonight Vanessa had dumped a change
and
a surprise on him. Maybe he’d have to rethink his opinion of her. Maybe — a growling sound erupted deep in his throat as that thought settled in his mind — she wasn’t just a beautiful, artistically talented woman. Maybe there was more to her than he thought.

For reasons he didn’t understand such thoughts made him feel uncomfortable because he believed himself a good judge of character and he didn’t like to be proven wrong. Her sincerity and flashes of fieriness had caught him off guard. But could she be believed when she said she loved Amaroo? Could she, in such a short space of time? He stroked his chin reflectively as he thought about that. God, this place was so different to where she’d come from. And it was clear that she was made of sterner stuff than he’d thought. Another surprise. Somehow, after tonight, he had to believe that this wouldn’t be the only surprise Bren’s wife would thrust at him.

Curtis’s gaze moved to Bren. His brother’s expression was a mixture of confusion, bewilderment and surprise over Vanessa’s passion. ‘Come on out to the hangar, Bren. We’ll talk things over while we clean up Nova’s bike.’

‘What’s wrong with her bike?’

‘She was showing off to Warren and Tony, doing wheelies. She came a gutser down by the breaking-in yard. Half buried the bike in the dirt and now the motor needs a good clean.’

‘Nova can pull down a motor. You should make her do it.’ Bren’s tone was dour.

Curtis nodded. ‘You know Nova, if she doesn’t want to she’ll find a way to con one of the blokes into doing it for her. I’d rather do it myself. That way I know it’s done properly.’

The brothers walked onto the verandah, the old boards creaking under their combined weight. Curtis lifted his head to stare up at the night sky and, as always it enthralled him. There was sufficient moonlight to illuminate the way to the hangar, and he whistled for Ringo to follow them as they walked towards it. Life, he decided, was becoming interesting at Amaroo in several different ways.

CHAPTER EIGHT

V
anessa angled her face slightly to see Bren’s profile as, intent on getting the single engine Cessna airborne, the dials on the plane’s panel and the wheel had his undivided attention. She had spent half of her six weeks in England analysing how they’d parted, friendly on the surface, but with an undercurrent of tension between them, and how that had made her feel. That Curtis had convinced Bren to accept her offer by the following morning was a relief and though they had talked it through, unfortunately, their relationship had remained strained. The Bourton on the Water cottage had sold quickly, the financials being settled while she was in Stratford on Avon.

Before flying out of Kununurra a bank cheque deposited in Bren’s bank account had delighted the branch’s bank manager, and Bren and Vanessa had celebrated at the Country Club Hotel with a bottle of champagne in the hotel’s beer garden.

With the debt off his mind, Vanessa was pleased because Bren became the pleasant, easygoing husband she’d hitherto known him to be. She would never know for sure whether Curtis had been
instrumental in returning her husband’s nature to normal. Any negative thoughts she had had on the flight home disappeared the moment she and Bren had met at the airport and Bren had given her a beaming smile and a bearish hug. Their love and their marriage were too strong to be permanently strained by financial matters. However, the episode had been a salutary lesson during which she had learned that Bren, lovable as he was, had flaws. But then she rationalised the thought, who didn’t, including herself?

She tucked her arm through his as the plane levelled off.

‘You must have a good case of jet lag, what with the international flight, then the domestic and a visit by my mother?’ he communicated through the mike and headphones, while at the same time, squeezing her hand against his ribs.

‘I’m used to flying, and I can usually nod off.’ She hadn’t this time because she had been concerned as to how things would be when they met. She needn’t have worried. Bren had made it clear that he had missed her, even suggesting they stay overnight in Kununurra, but she wanted to get home to Amaroo.

‘Get on okay with Mum?’ There was a pensive note in his voice as he asked the question.

‘There wasn’t a lot of time between flights. She met me at the airport and we had coffee.’ She smiled as she remembered Hilary Selby’s pinched features, trying to appear at ease with someone she didn’t care for. ‘It was pleasant enough.’

He chuckled as he adjusted the throttle. Over the motor’s hum, he commented, ‘I bet. Mum can be
difficult when she puts her mind to it. Don’t worry, in time she’ll accept you. It took her ages to accept Lauren’s husband ’cause he came from Eastern Europe and had an accent. She and Marc get along famously now.’

‘Your mother made it clear that all she wants from me is more grandchildren. Another granddaughter would be nice, so she intimated.’

His quick glance was followed by a suggestive leer. Briefly, his left hand stroked her inner thigh. ‘I think you might need help accomplishing that.’

‘I will. We might seriously consider having a baby after I’ve done the movie in South Australia.’

‘I’d forgotten about that.’ His tone changed. ‘You’ll be going away again.’

Vanessa heard his obvious disappointment and her heart skipped a beat. ‘It’s hard for me too, darling, but Kerri couldn’t get me out of every commitment. We had a long talk in Stratford on Avon about future work. She knows I want to space my work out, only two engagements a year. But with regard to the movie, at least the Flinders Rangers are closer than London. The production schedule is for five weeks on location, depending on the weather.’

‘Okay. You have to shoot a rifle in the movie, don’t you? After you’ve settled in we’ll go down to the creek and I’ll teach you how.’

There was a pause before she said, ‘I know I should, but I hate guns of any sort.’

Bren shook his head, his tone firm. ‘Women who live in the outback should know how to shoot, even if they rarely have to use a firearm.’

‘Why?’

‘Remember the snake at Exeter Falls? There are feral animals — goats, foxes, cats and dingoes out there. It’s general policy for outback folks to kill them if they sight them because they damage and kill stock, or eat the grass. They’re all considered vermin.’

Vanessa knew he was right, that over the time she’d been at Amaroo, she had learned many things that few women who lived in suburbia needed to know. And that knowing could make the difference between life or death. ‘I suppose you’re right,’ she murmured. Masking her lack of enthusiasm she settled back into the plane’s seat and let the hum of the motor loll her into a semi-trance.

It was late afternoon, an hour before sunset. Astride the bike, she watched the distance from the creek bank drop away as she followed Bren and Nova. Kerri and some of her friends would have a good laugh if they saw her on the trail bike. She was trying to stay in the tracks Bren was making through the dirt because she was more cautious than the other two who had years of experience. She was pleased to have mastered the bike, though she preferred a horse. Even so, she languished five metres behind the others. The station’s dogs and Sandy, who’d come for the run, had bounded off and were in front of her too.

The land, the people who lived in the Kimberley, the cattle too, were waiting for the wet. Everything that could droop did — leaves, branches. The grass was flat and sparse because the stock had eaten it down to ground level and the creek, which had been
full on her arrival, was now a muddy trickle with the occasional waterhole. The drop in the level of water exposed the creek’s banks and the roots of gums and willow barks, which now resembled oddly shaped ribs as they reached thirstily and in vain for what was needed to sustain them.

Directly above, beyond the tree branches, the sky was clear but over the Barnett Range, purplish grey clouds were gathering. They were heavy with the promise of rain but, with the humidity still close to one hundred per cent, rain wasn’t likely today … maybe tomorrow.

Bren and Nova were waiting for her. The Winchester 30/30 lever action rifle was in Bren’s right hand. Last night he had spent an hour briefing her on the rifle, showing her how to clean it, as well as how to load bullets into the chamber. Still, familiarity had not bred ease regarding the weapon though she secretly admitted that it made sense to know how to use it.

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