The Horse Thief (11 page)

Violet lifted her other arm and wrapped that too around his neck. ‘This is such fun. I feel like a damsel in distress rescued by a knight in shining armour.'

Ignoring her ludicrous comments he marched into the stables beneath the hayloft. Jefferson lifted his head and instead of his usual welcoming whinny flashed the whites of his eyes then turned and offered his rump.

Jim continued down the aisle to Maestro's stall. The colt reared as they approached, his ears pricked and his eyes rolling as he backed away. Realising his mistake Jim walked to the end of the aisle and deposited Violet on a pile of straw.

‘I was just beginning to get comfortable.' She dropped her arms and sat adjusting the mangled feather on her hat.

‘Sit there and don't move.' He tossed the words over his shoulder as he returned to the aisle to secure Maestro.

‘I will not move one inch until you return.' Violet leant back and stretched her legs out, looking for all the world as if she were reclining at a picnic.

‘Why not stay in Sydney? Why come back here if you hate it so much?' The words poured out of his mouth. He didn't want to encourage her or engage her in conversation. He wanted her out of his hair and out of his stables. The thought caught him by surprise. Out of
his
stables. Whatever was he thinking? Given a further opportunity to check the ledgers for the proof of sale and Jefferson's heritage and he'd be on his way.

‘My return is India's fault. If she'd accepted the perfectly reasonable marriage proposal she received neither of us would be in this preposterous position. Cecil Bryce is quite prepared to offer financial assistance to get Helligen back on its feet so the property can be sold. India and I could live in the lap of luxury in Sydney. She will marry Cecil in the end. This personal crusade to restore Helligen is a nonsense.'

Her eyes narrowed as he approached.

‘And I suggest you drop any insane notions you might have of romancing my sister. She is spoken for.' Violet sat back with a satisfied smirk on her face.

Jim snapped his mouth closed and stared at the girl. ‘I am not
romancing
your sister, as you put it. I'm here for one reason and one reason only. Once I have what I came for I will leave.' He ran his fingers through his hair, squeezing his skull. He'd said too much.

‘You will leave?' A frown puckered her flawless forehead. ‘India is under the impression you're here to stay. Of course, when she marries Cecil it will make no difference to your position. I feel certain we could arrange to keep you on. I can put in a good word for you.'

‘We'll see.' Jim covered his confusion with a forced smile. ‘Let's get you back to the house.' Slipping one arm behind her back and the other beneath her knees he swept her into his arms again. Wasting no time he strode across the flagstones to the house.

‘Can you take me into the kitchen?' Violet asked. ‘I think Peggy needs to see to my ankle. I can't imagine being able to walk unaided for another week at least.'

He nudged the kitchen door open with his shoulder.

India and Peggy sat at the kitchen table, their heads close together. They lifted their faces in unison.

‘Don't you dare bring that peacock feather into my kitchen, young lady. It's bad luck.'

Jim chuckled. It appeared animals and cooks alike knew more than he did.

‘Peggy, I've hurt my ankle. Jim helped me. Can you strap it for me?'

With his arms full of purple velvet and peacock feathers he hovered in the doorway. Neither Peggy nor India appeared the slightest bit disturbed by the possibility Violet was injured, in fact a smile quirked the corners of India's lips. Violet had taken him for a fool.

Peggy stuck out a pudgy finger. ‘Throw that hat down outside.'

The peacock-feathered hat fluttered over his shoulder and landed with a gentle plop on the stone flagging outside the door.

‘Put her down.'

He lowered Violet to the ground. With an anguished cry she struggled across the floor and sank onto the chair Peggy held.

His stomach churned at his own gullibility as he stormed out, leaving the women to their own devices.

‘Now, what's all this nonsense, young lady?' Peggy's gruff voice mirrored India's own feelings. As always Violet had succeeded in turning the morning into a circus and it was time to make an end of it.

‘I fell and twisted my ankle when that horse attacked me.'

‘Don't be so foolish. It was your own stupid fault. If you hadn't been primping and preening in front of Jim it wouldn't have happened.'

Peggy peeled off Violet's stocking, tut-tutting as she twisted her ankle from one side to the other. ‘I can't see very much wrong with it.'

‘It hurts and it's not fair. So unfair. Everyone does everything the way India wants it done. Even Jim is falling all over himself, salivating like a dog the moment he's anywhere near her. It's as though I don't exist.' The palm of Violet's hand slammed down on the table with a sharp crack. ‘And I don't even want to be here.'

Peggy dropped Violet's ankle none too gently to the ground. ‘I don't think your foot needs binding but your mouth certainly does.'

Violet's lip curled into a smirk, the kind that always spelt trouble. ‘I've had a long chat with Jim and he's not labouring under any misapprehension anymore. I've told him all about India's engagement.'

‘I'm not engaged.' The words spluttered from India's mouth.

Ignoring her, Violet continued. ‘And I've told him we'll be going back to Sydney.' She folded her arms. ‘He said he didn't care because he wasn't expecting to stay long, just until he found what he came for. So think again, big sister. Not every man falls at your feet.' Violet as good as crowed as she stood and marched through the door, her ankle miraculously healed.

‘I think it might be more sensible if I sent Violet back to Sydney. She's dreadfully unhappy. There must be someone she can stay with, an old school friend, an acquaintance of Papa's. As soon as I next see him I'll discuss it. I can't live like this and you shouldn't have to either.'

And she didn't want to deal with Violet anymore. She wanted to sort out the tangle of emotions wrapping tendrils around her heart. The way she'd felt when Jim held her close, his warmth, and the sparkle in his eye and the dimple in his cheek when he smiled. The palms of her hands still tingled from the glow of his warm skin. She smoothed them together, trying to recreate the sensation of his beating heart. If they'd been alone he might have kissed her. She ran her tongue over her lips imagining the touch of his mouth on her skin. A rush of heat traced a path down her body and her breasts peaked.

‘India?'

‘Hmm?' She wriggled, the cotton of her blouse rough against her skin. Skin that prickled and shivered with an unnatural sensitivity.

‘India!'

Turning to Peggy she plastered what she hoped was an attentive smile on her face.

‘What did Violet mean when she said Jim would leave once he found what he came for?'

India shrugged her shoulders, not wanting to entertain the thought of Jim leaving, not for a long time, if ever. ‘I don't know. Just more Violet nonsense. Do you think I should persevere with this idea of mine? Violet would be better off in Sydney. I could go down to Sydney and see Papa, if he's not away.'

‘India, this is important.' Peggy's round face squeezed into a frown. ‘Violet said Jim wasn't expecting to stay long. Just until he got what he came for.'

‘I've absolutely no idea, Peggy. I've more important things to worry about.'

‘Like your feelings for the man?'

India sat bolt upright, colour flooding her face anew. ‘What feelings?' she lied.

‘The other comment might be Violet nonsense but she's hit the nail on the head about Jim. I don't think I'd put it quite so crudely, nonetheless the pair of you can't take your eyes off each other. What's going on?'

‘Nothing's going on.' Nothing except the delicious feelings his closeness brought. ‘We have a working relationship that requires us to spend time together. I won't deny the man is attractive but I'm not harbouring any pent-up desires or emotions.' Her untruth sat between them, knotting her insides. ‘The fiasco with Cecil Bryce was bad enough.'

‘He's twice your age and ugly as a dead fish. Jim, now he's different. I've seen the way your eyes sparkle when he's near, and what about the other night in the dining room? The two of you sitting there, holding hands, looking like a couple of lovesick calves.'

‘We weren't holding hands. If you must know he was comforting me.'

‘Oh, comfort. Is that what it's called these days?'

India pushed back her chair. This conversation could wait until her thoughts aligned and her emotions were under control.

‘And now I suppose you're going to flounce off like your sister, are you? The truth a bit hard to handle?'

‘No, I'm not going to flounce off.' India ignored the second half of Peggy's question. She had no answer. ‘I have every intention of behaving like an adult.'

And that required some serious decisions. Employing Jim was the best move she'd made, and in some strange way the focus of her life had shifted with his arrival. Now she could see what had to be done, and Violet got in the way of her progress. Her goal of entering a horse in the Melbourne races was no longer a pipedream. All she wanted to do was concentrate on her plans. Once the mares were bred there would be a twelve-month hiatus while they waited for the births. She could attend to all of her other problems then. Right now the stud was important and she needed help from Jim. She turned on her heel. She would go back to the stables and pick up where they'd left off before Violet's ludicrous outburst.

Fourteen

Jim pulled the crumpled piece of paper from his pocket and hunkered down outside the stable to study the notes he'd made. He'd always known Jefferson's quality. The studbook proved Goodfellow's lineage back to the very first thoroughbreds imported into Australia. No wonder the horse had such stamina and perfect conformation. Jefferson would make a formidable stud sire, never mind racehorse. What a legacy to inherit from his father—all he had to do was locate the paperwork and prove his ownership of Goodfellow.

He needed the deed of sale! If there was such a thing. His father said Kilhampton gave him Goodfellow, in lieu of wages. There had to be papers to prove it. No-one gave away a horse of that breeding. His father told him Kilhampton wanted Goodfellow shot. He'd convinced him there was a chance to mend the animal's broken leg and Kilhampton had told him to take the animal.

Leaning back against the wall he resurrected the memories of the night they'd left. Bundled into the back of the dray with his brother. His mother at the reins and his father … he frowned. Where was his father when they left? They'd stopped and made camp very late at night, then stayed for several days in the bush sleeping under the dray. When his father reappeared he said they would be living at Munmurra and he'd driven the dray after that. Had he taken Goodfellow to Munmurra first and then come back for his family?

Pushing up, he scuffed along in the dirt. Fragments of the past rose and fell like ghosts, taunting him with half-remembered phrases and snatches of conversation. Together he and India could piece it all together.

He took only two steps before he remembered—India didn't know who he was. He'd used his mother's family name when he applied for the job. So keen to find the papers he hadn't thought through the ramifications. And now another mystery twice as complicated loomed. Who owned Goodfellow? Too many deaths, too long ago. His mother had carried the secret to her grave and it seemed his father had too.

The Kilhamptons were to be the tool he used to achieve his aim, and instead he found he liked India—more than that, he admired her. He'd imagined she would be like Violet, a spoilt society daughter of the squire. Not a determined woman who shared his interests and dreams. She was nothing he expected.

‘Here you are.'

He jumped up, shading his eyes as he squinted into the beam of sunlight, unsure if his imagination had conjured her. As his eyes adjusted his stomach clenched. She lifted her heavy hair from her shoulders in the special way she had. With the light behind her he could see the outline of her body through her shirt, her raised arms accentuating her lithe figure.

‘I'm sorry my sister caused so many problems. It's not her fault. She's at sixes and sevens with the world and doesn't know what she wants.' India moistened her lips, an apologetic smile building.

Stepping closer he returned her smile. Her eyes flickered and darkened. He all but saw the spark of desire jump from his taut body to hers. She shivered and then her shoulders dropped and she took his outstretched hand.

His fingers tingled. The scent of spring flowers, honeysuckle perhaps, wafted in the gentle breeze. He ran the pad of his thumbs over her palm, delighting in her responsive tremor, then lifted her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss against the warm soft skin of her wrist.