Shadow of the Osprey (26 page)

‘Your cousin Katie runs one of the biggest businesses in North Queensland,’ Bridget gently reminded her son. ‘And she is a weak woman like Colleen and myself.’ Daniel’s face clouded at his mother’s unsubtle remark and he stomped from the kitchen.

‘Thank you Missus Duffy,’ Max said, with a grateful expression on his scarred face. ‘This is important to me to haf time off.’

Bridget’s sweet smile faded and a look of curiosity spread across her serene face that was marked by soft wrinkles. ‘I have known you for many years Max Braun,’ she said, staring into his face, ‘and I have come to know when something is troubling you. It is young Patrick, isn’t it?’ He baulked at her question and shuffled his feet unconsciously. ‘I have had dreams Mister Braun,’ Bridget continued quietly. ‘Dreams of muddy water.’

Max looked up and stared directly into the slightly myopic eyes of the woman he greatly respected. He knew about her uncanny dreams. The times she dreamed of muddy water inevitably meant a death in the family. ‘Ja. It is my Patrick,’ he replied. ‘I do not know but I must be free to look after him for a little while, before he goes away from us for a long time.’

Bridget nodded her understanding. ‘I have dreamed of Patrick’s father,’ she said. ‘His ghost is with us, and is troubled by something that we do not understand. I know young Patrick and Martin have seen Michael’s ghost. Sadly, my own son is too educated to believe in such things. He scoffs at me as if I was a demented old woman. But I know as surely as Saint Patrick chased out the serpents from dear old Ireland that Michael is with us even now. I think that you sense the same things.’

‘Ja Missus Duffy,’ Max said. ‘I think bad things are happening and I think I should keep a vatch out for my Patrick. But I do not vant Daniel to know about vot I haf told you,’ he added. ‘He vould vorry too much.’

‘I can promise you that I will not tell him,’ Bridget said, reaching out to pat the big German’s hand affectionately. ‘The devil took Michael from us but his son has a guardian angel.’

Max was not always prone to demonstrations of emotion. He was forced to turn away so that Missus Duffy could not see the tears welling in his eyes. An evil force had taken Michael from him those many years earlier. But the evil was not going to take Patrick. He would rather die than let that happen. The devil could have his soul for what it was worth so long as Patrick survived the curse.

Somehow Max felt that the evil had a human form – and that he had already met him in the main bar of the Erin Hotel days earlier. He had no rational way of explaining his fear for Patrick’s safety, other than he truly believed an ancient Aboriginal curse hung over the family.

W
hen Luke heard that Kate and Ben were taking supplies to a station located a couple of days south of Cooktown, he immediately insisted on escorting them. Ben was pleased to have the American ride with them. Being bushwhacked by desperate miners down on their luck was becoming a regular occurrence and Luke’s rifle and revolver added impressive fire power to the small party.

But Kate appeared indifferent to his offer and bridled at his insistence. She had not needed him in the past, she told herself. And now she did not want to appear as if she had come to rely on him being around.

Despite her protests Luke saddled his horse and announced that he would ride up the track to scout out a camping place for the night. By mid-afternoon he found a suitable location with some shelter afforded by an outcrop of rocks. The location would be ideal as huge, angry thunderheads were boiling up from the west. It promised to be a real downpour and Luke waited with troubled thoughts for the wagons to arrive.

Just before sunset Ben’s wagon creaked and groaned its way into the campsite.

‘Where’s Kate?’ Luke asked with a concerned frown.

‘She had to stop back down the track,’ Ben replied, as he brought his team to a halt. ‘Appears one of the beasts might have been bitten by a snake. I said I would wait but she told me I was to go ahead and help set up for the night. Said she would see if her bullock got better. If it didn’t she was going to cut it loose and then come on ahead.’

‘How far back is she?’ Luke asked, swinging himself into the saddle.

‘Left her about an hour ago, near a bend in the track.’

Luke did not wait for further directions but kicked his horse into a canter. Maybe he was being over cautious. He knew Ben would not have left Kate down the track alone if he had harboured any doubts as to her safety. Whatever it was, he just knew he had to get back to her.

With a tremendous rolling crash of thunder and vivid flash of lightning the storm broke. Hunched against the driving rain Luke rode into the rapidly gathering darkness. The rain was a continuous roar sweeping across the rocky, twisted landscape as a sharp wind tore flurries in the air. The occasional branch cracked like a rifle shot, and lightning caused the trees to flicker.

Luke dismounted and walked his horse, allowing her to feel her way on the slippery trail. The temperature had dropped and he could feel the chill creep through his bones. He peered into the premature gloom, hoping to sight Kate’s wagon on the trail ahead. But it was the lowing of the bullocks that alerted him that she must be close.

‘Kate?’ he called above the storm. ‘Kate?’

‘Luke!’ Kate’s answer drifted as a faint and distressed sound to him. He instinctively knew something was terribly wrong.

‘Where are you?’

‘Over here,’ she called back. Luke thought he could hear pain in her voice. He swore as he brushed at the rain pelting his face. If it were not for the lightning flashes he would have been blind.

‘Call again,’ he yelled to be heard above the storm. ‘Keep calling and I will find you.’

‘I’m over here,’ she replied. Luke strained his senses to pinpoint her location. A lightning flash illuminated the oxen standing in miserable groups off to his right. He guessed Kate was somewhere between himself and the bullocks. Another flash of lightning lit up a tangle of branches from a tree already downed by a strike.

‘God almighty,’ Luke swore, as he flung himself from his horse and stumbled to the fallen tree. The wet branches slapped him in the face as he bent to where he guessed she must be. His hands groped amongst the soggy leaves until he felt her flesh. He was touching her face and her hands reached up to grip his. ‘Are you hurt?’

‘I don’t think so,’ Kate replied calmly, attempting to dissipate the anguish she knew he was suffering for her. ‘I can’t move. The tree came down when I was hobbling the bullocks. I think it was hit by lightning because I remember something like an explosion. I tried to get it off, but it’s too heavy.’

‘I’ll get it off Kate,’ Luke said, as he felt around her body to determine how she was pinned to the rocky ground. His hands slid along a smooth branch as thick as his thigh. When he ran his hand back along the branch, it came to rest against Kate’s stomach.

She reached down to grip his hand. ‘Luke . . . ’ she faltered. She did not know what to say to him. All she knew was that the terrible fear she had harboured before he arrived was gone. The feel of his strong, callused hand in hers made everything right. It was like it had always been in the past when he had been with her. He felt her hand tighten on his.

‘Save your strength,’ he said gently. ‘I’m going to lift the branch. When I do, I want you to get yourself out any way you can. You understand?’

‘I’m ready,’ she replied, and reluctantly let go of his hand.

Luke squatted on his haunches and took hold of the thick branch. With all the strength he had ever known in his life he hauled upwards. The branch did not seem to budge and he called on a further strength, a strength born of the long years of love he had carried with him, across two continents, for Kate.

It was an uneven contest – man’s muscle and sinew pitted against the hardy spirit of a tree which had tenaciously survived years in the earth of one of the harshest continents on the planet. But Luke’s love proved stronger than the spirit of the tree. Grudgingly it conceded a mere three inches of clearance. But it was enough for Kate to wriggle free.

Spent from his almost superhuman effort, Luke sank to his knees. Kate’s arms were around his neck. He felt her stomach pressed against him and heard her sobs. ‘I was so scared,’ he tried to say, but his words were lost in the crash of thunder rolling around them. He reached up and drew Kate down to him and stroked her face with his fingers. ‘I was so scared that something might have happened to you,’ he said, unable to see either her face or the expression in her eyes.

The driving rain, crashing thunder, lightning-torn sky and bitter chill of the night faded from her reality. Nothing mattered anymore except that the years of doubt were being washed away by what was happening between them at this very moment.

His mouth was on her neck and she was aware of the heat of her own desire as he held her and choked her name in a whisper. In the lightning flashes she could see his face and their eyes met as she felt a wave of convulsive sobs rack her body. Luke felt her fear and vulnerability and held her tightly to him. His kiss was at first gentle and reassuring. Kate did not resist. His mouth was as sweet as anything she had ever known and she felt a strange physical weakness which steadily grew into a strong passion of desire. She returned his kiss with her own rising passion and without a word he began to unbutton the man’s shirt she wore. She shivered as the last button was undone and his hands cupped her breasts.

He stripped off his shirt and Kate could feel the steel corded muscle of his chest pressed against her breasts. She ran her hands over his back. The hard muscle rippled under her fingers. His face was between her breasts as he breathed her scent deep into his lungs. Her nipples stiffened at the gentle touch of his tongue. Kate threw back her head and closed her eyes. All time became irrelevant except for this precious moment between them. She wondered how his body could have felt so naturally familiar to her – as if it had always belonged to her. She moaned, as he bent her backwards into the wet bed of leaves, and his hand reached down to release the sash about her waist. She was hardly aware of herself helping him pull down her trousers.

His kisses were all over her body and his breathing was heavy and irregular like a man starving for air. She gasped as he entered her and their coupling took on an air of desperation borne of mutual hunger. Joined together, love and lust became one and Kate was barely aware that the screams above the pounding rain were her own expressions of ecstasy as his body was convulsed by his climax and hers.

They lay naked together, oblivious to the stinging cold rain and prickly twigs of the old tree. Kate felt as if he had filled every part of her being with himself and her tears of joy ran in rivulets with the driving rain. For now words were nothing more than unnecessary sounds, and nature was speaking for them both, with its spectacular and savage passion.

With seemingly little effort Luke scooped her in his arms and walked towards the wagon. He attached a canvas sheet to the side, procured a lantern from Kate’s supplies and was even able to light a small fire under the big wagon. Propped against a wagon wheel, with a dry blanket wrapped around her, Kate watched Luke bending over the little fire that promised to grow and provide its warmth for them. She was still remembering the steel hard muscles on his lean body as he possessed her. He was like a coiled stockwhip, she thought dreamily.

Luke carefully placed the dry inside sections of bark against the flames to ensure that the blaze grew in strength. He glanced up from his task and smiled at her. ‘I am going to have to look and see if that branch did you any injury Kate,’ he said. ‘Don’t see any reason why you might be shy.’ She returned the smile and opened the blanket to him. He held up the lantern to examine the bruise across her stomach. ‘Looks like you will be all right,’ he said, as he touched the bruise gently. ‘Just a bad bump.’ A little self-consciously he withdrew his hand and Kate wondered how he could be at one moment so assertive with her and yet shy. She reached out and pulled him to her.

‘Have I told you that I love you Luke Tracy?’ she said, with her head resting on his shoulder. ‘That I think I loved you from the very first moment I saw you standing on that wharf in Brisbane. You looked so proud and self-assured standing there with your bed-roll and rifle. I was so intrigued by the tall man with the smile when you looked up at me.’

‘I didn’t know you noticed,’ Luke replied softly. ‘You were another man’s woman then. I couldn’t tell you how much I thought you were the most beautiful woman I ever saw. I . . . ’ He felt clumsy expressing a love that he had carried with him for over a decade. A love that had not faltered, as his words did now.

It had seemed a hopeless love. Yet the small but intense fire refused to burn out, despite the odds against winning the beautiful young woman’s affections. But now, under the wagon, on an isolated track on Australia’s northern frontier, all the years of pain faded to nothing. This strange place was the heaven he had always dreamed of. ‘I love you Kate . . . always have,’ he stated with simple determination, and the expression in his eyes told Kate just how deep his love was for her. ‘I ain’t got much to give to a woman. Not a woman as beautiful as you. I . . . ’

She placed her fingers on his lips to still his sad recriminations on his lack of worldly possessions. ‘Just promise me that you will never leave me again Luke,’ she said softly as she closed her eyes. ‘I don’t think I could ever bear to lose you again. I have lost so many that I have loved.’

Luke did not answer but stared into the flames as he held her close. She was like a trusting child and he had never felt more miserable – or happy – in the same space of time. He had found something more precious than the River of Gold but there was something he must do before he could give Kate his word that he would never leave her side again. By swearing an old blood oath, when he had been forced to flee Australia for his native America years earlier, he knew he was risking more than his life. He was risking the loss of the love of this woman.

He stroked her hair as one would a child and Kate drifted into a deep and contented sleep. For the first time in many years she was truly happy.