The Socialite and the Cattle King (7 page)

‘You really mean that, don’t you?’ He sat up.

Holly nodded, then grimaced. ‘Probably easy enough to say. So. What’s on this afternoon?’

He eyed her, sitting so relaxed in her chair in her peasant blouse with its pretty embroidery, her legs long and bare and her hair curling madly.

What’s on this afternoon?
he repeated to himself.
What would you say, Miss Harding, if I told you I’d very much like to take you to bed? I’d love to strip your togs from your body and explore those slender lines and delicate curves. I’d like to touch you and make those pink lips part in surprise and pleasure, those blue eyes widen in wonder…

It was a disturbance over the fence in the holding paddock that drew his attention away from Holly—saved by the bell, he thought dryly. He saw that his foreman, Kane, had arrived back from the fencing trip with his two offsiders.

But as his gaze came back to Holly, he saw that she was staring at him with her lips parted, her eyes wide—all in some perplexity.

His lips twisted. ‘Why don’t you relax? I’ve got some things to discuss with Kane. I may take him back to the
dam to show him what I want done, so I could be tied up all afternoon.’

‘Uh, all right,’ Holly responded after a moment. ‘I can do some work anyway.’ She hesitated. ‘If Sarah’s still not well would you like me to cook dinner?’

‘Thanks.’ He stood up. ‘That would be great.’

Holly withdrew her gaze from the physical splendour of Brett Wyndham in his board shorts. ‘Um, do I cook for Kane and the others?’

‘No. They’ll cater for themselves in their quarters. See you later.’ And he walked away.

Holly cleared up their lunch and retreated to her cabin, where she admitted to herself that she was somewhat bothered and bewildered. Or bewitched.

She lay down on the bed and stared at the ceiling, feeling like a star-struck teenager, she admitted as she pulled a pillow into her arms. So, what to do about it?

No answer presented itself and she fell asleep.

It was starting to cool down when she re-emerged, showered and once again changed in her blouse and jeans.

She checked on Sarah first and took her a pot of tea and a snack—all she wanted. She persuaded her to stay where she was, assuring her she was quite able to handle dinner.

A couple of hours later, with the oil lamps lit and the table set attractively again, Brett put down his knife and fork and said, ‘You can cook. Another gene from your father?’

Holly’s face dimpled into a smile as she glanced at the remains of the golden-brown lasagne she’d prepared, along with a fresh green salad and some warm rolls.
‘No. The cooking gene comes from my mother, in case you thought I was all my father’s doing.’

Brett lay back in his chair and studied her. He had also showered and had changed into a clean khaki shirt and beige chinos. ‘What does come to mind…’ He twirled his wine glass. ‘Is the fact that you’d make someone a really handy wife.’

Holly looked put out, although there was glint of laughter in her eyes. ‘That’s not exactly a compliment, Mr Wyndham,’ she said gravely.

‘Sorry,’ He grimaced. ‘As well as a very attractive wife, of course.’

‘That’s a bit better!’ Holly approved. ‘But I don’t think I’d make a good wife, actually.’

‘Why not?’

She gathered their plates. ‘Oh, I don’t know.’ She shrugged and stood up.

He rose too and told her to sit down. ‘I’ll do this.’

Holly sank back and watched him clear the table. He came back and topped up their wine glasses. ‘Why not?’ he asked again.

She looked at him and looked away. She stroked Bella’s head. Somehow the dog must have gauged her inner distress with the subject, because Bella had risen and put her head on Holly’s lap. Despite her inner distress, there was something else, something new. For the first time she wanted to explain why she was the way she was.

It was to do with this man, she thought. Because he moved her, whether she liked it or not…

She took a deep breath. ‘A couple of years ago I fell madly in love,’ she said quietly. ‘What I didn’t know was
that he was a married man. And I only got to know it when his wife started stalking me.’

Brett stopped with his wine glass poised in his hand, then he slowly put it down. ‘I’m sorry.
Seriously
stalking you?’

‘I thought so. She wrote threatening letters, she threatened me over the phone, she turned up at work, she harassed my mother—she threw a brick through my car window once. It got to the stage where I was looking over my shoulder all the time, even scared to go out.’

‘She sounds crazy,’ he said.

Holly shrugged. ‘I’ll probably never know whether it was the cause or the effect of her husband’s philandering, but it left me with several complexes. Strangely, although she scared me silly at times, I felt a streak of sympathy for
her
, whereas I could have killed her husband for putting me in that position. You could say I fell off cloud nine with a huge bump.’

She looked away and for a moment tears glittered in her eyes.

‘Go on,’ he murmured eventually.

‘I couldn’t believe I’d been so thoroughly taken in by him. I can only—I’d just lost my father, who meant the world to me, so I was depressed and so on when I met him.’

‘He was still living with her?’

‘No, he’d moved out, so I had no reason to suspect he was married. But I guess that’s my number-one complex—a terrible lack of judgement on my part. Funnily enough, I’d never believed I was the kind of girl to be swept off her feet by a man.’

‘Or vice versa—who does?’

Holly smiled bleakly. ‘It doesn’t help. Anyway, I’m very much on guard against that kind of thing happening to me again. And I’m terribly, terribly wary now of the maelstrom of emotions that can go with love and marriage.’

‘Maybe she was a unhinged. Perhaps you struck a one-in-a-million situation?’ he suggested.

‘Or maybe she just felt herself to be a woman scorned. Maybe she felt she couldn’t live without him; they had two children. Maybe she just felt desperate; I don’t know,’ Holly said.

‘What happened to them?’

‘He went back to her and they moved overseas.’ Holly fiddled with her napkin then looked straight into his eyes.

‘But for a few months I was in serious trouble. I felt so guilty, even though I hadn’t known about her. I was a nervous wreck—I still sometimes break out into a sweat and think I’m being followed. But my mother finally persuaded me to get some counselling and that’s when I realized only I could get myself out of it. So I plunged into my work and the harder, even the more dangerous it was, the better.’

‘And now?’

Holly rubbed her hands together. ‘For the most part, fine, but still terribly wary of men and love and marriage—and my own lack of judgement.’

‘I see.’ He finished his wine. ‘I guess that explains your aversion to
chemistry.
’

Holly bit her lip. Of course, he was quite right. The only thing was, she hadn’t had any problems with “chemistry” after that disastrous affair until
he
had
come into her life. Well, she’d been perfectly capable of stonewalling it without feeling it herself, but that was not the case now.

She looked across at him. ‘My mistrust of it, yes. But I can’t say it hasn’t happened.’

‘Between us?’

‘Yes,’ she whispered. She gestured a little helplessly. ‘But you—you’re…This is business,
serious
business for me anyway. I need to get this interview right. If I don’t, you’ll can it or my editor will.’ She said with sudden passion, ‘I need to make it vibrant and compelling. I can’t do that if I’m—distracted.’

He stared at her with his lips twitching.

‘What?’ she asked huskily.

‘You are on the horns of a dilemma.’

‘If you’re going to laugh at me…’

‘I’m not,’ he interrupted. ‘Although that did strike me as, well, probably the least of our problems.’

Holly felt herself blush. She said honestly, ‘You’re right. I don’t know where that bit came from.’

‘Come and see the moon.’ He stood up, came round to her and held out his hand.

She looked up at him. ‘Where did
that
come from?’

He smiled. ‘The moon? It just struck me, it’s full tonight. See?’ He pointed out towards the east.

Holly gasped at the orange globe rising above the tree line. ‘Oh! How beautiful.’ She got up.

‘Mmm…’ He took her hand and led her out onto the lawn.

Holly was transfixed as the moon rose, and in the process lost some of its orange radiance and shrunk a
bit. She shivered. Days out in the savannah might be hot, but the nights were very cold, and she hadn’t put on her jumper.

Brett put his arms around her. She couldn’t help herself, and she snuggled up to him.

‘Maybe this says it all,’ he murmured, and started to kiss her.

Her lips quivered, but it seemed to her that her senses would no longer be dictated by her mind. They clamoured for his touch; they were lit by the feel of him, tall and hard against her, and tantalized by the pure essence of man she was breathing in.

She loved the press of his fingers against her skin; she loved the way they explored the nape of her neck and behind her ears while he kept his other hand around her waist.

But a skerrick of common sense claimed her and she raised her hands to put them on his chest. ‘We ought to stop and think,’ she breathed. ‘This could be very dangerous.’

He lifted his head. ‘Why? It has nothing to do with anyone but us, and we couldn’t be in more agreement at the moment if we tried.’

Holly made a strange little sound in her throat. He stared down at her mouth in the moonlight and started to kiss her again.

She was almost carried away with delight when he stopped and raised his head to listen.

She came out of her enchanted trance with a start as she too heard footsteps. ‘Sarah,’ she breathed. ‘I’d forgotten about her. She must be feeling a bit better—hungry, maybe!’

‘We’ll go to your…’

‘No! I need to go and see if she’s OK.’ Holly stood on tiptoe and kissed him swiftly. ‘Thanks for listening.’ She sped off back towards the house.

Brett said something unrepeatable under his breath then looked down to see Bella sitting beside him. ‘Come to sympathize, old girl? Well, what would you say if I told you that Holly Harding could be the right one for me? She’s taken to Haywire as if she was born to it; she could be running the place, but of course it’s not only that. She’s becoming more and more desirable. But do I want a wife? It’s hard to put down roots without one. How good would I be with a wife, though?

T
HERE
was a triple knock on Holly’s door before sunrise the next morning.

She’d been hovering on the edge of wakefulness for a while and she jerked upright, scrambled out of bed and went to open the door. ‘What? Who? Why?’ she breathed. ‘Has something happened?’

‘No.’ It was Brett dressed in jeans and a jacket. ‘Come and see the sunrise.’

‘But I’m not even dressed!’

‘Throw some warm clothes on, then; we haven’t got much time.’

She hesitated then shrugged. ‘OK.’

Ten minutes later she joined him in the ute.

She’d thrown on some slouchy trousers and a jacket and she was finger-plaiting her hair. They bumped over some rough ground for a few minutes then came to a lip in the ground, as far as she could see in the headlights.

Brett pulled up and switched the ute off. ‘Won’t be long now. Come and sit on the bonnet.

Holly did as she was bid, and slowly the rim of the horizon started to lighten. As it did the chill breeze that had seen her wrap her arms around herself dropped.
With gathering speed, the darkness faded and she was looking down a long valley; all the colours of the land-scape—the burnt umber and olive greens, the forest greens and splashes of amber—started to come alive as the sun reached the horizon.

It was so beautiful in the crystal-clear cool air, and alive in every little detail. She found she was holding her breath as she watched a wedge-tail eagle planing the thermals. Then as the sun climbed higher, that particular vividness of early dawn faded a little, and she sighed wistfully.

‘Thank you for that,’ she whispered, as if she was afraid of breaking the spell by talking aloud.

He merely nodded and got off the bonnet, but only to reach into the ute for a thermos flask and two cups.

The coffee he poured from the flask was full-bodied and aromatic. ‘I thought you might be cross with me for dragging you out of bed.’

‘No. Well…’ Holly grinned. ‘That may have been my first tiny reaction.’ She sipped her coffee and sniffed appreciatively. ‘Smells so good!’

He climbed back onto the bonnet. ‘So you slept well?’

‘I did. I…’ She hesitated and thought of the tussle she’d had with herself before she’d been able to fall asleep. ‘I did decide I needed to apologize.’

He raised an eyebrow at her. ‘What for?’

Holly chewed her lip. ‘This is not that easy to say but I seem to have developed the habit of—kissing you—and, uh, sloping off.’

‘You have,’ he agreed after a moment.

Holly looked slightly put out.

‘What did you expect me to say?’ He drained his coffee and put his cup down.

‘I didn’t expect you to agree quite so readily. And there are reasons for it, of course.’

‘Of course,’ he echoed. ‘Such as, we just can’t seem to help ourselves? That’s what promotes it in the first place, at least.’

Holly wrapped her hands around her mug and was considering her reply when he went on, ‘Then you get cold feet.’

‘Well, I do! Why wouldn’t I?’

He tilted her chin, observed the indignation in her eyes and smiled slightly. ‘I could be going too fast. Should we just be friends for today?’ He released her chin and put his arm around her shoulders.

Holly opened her mouth to ask him
what
he was going too fast towards, but she decided against it. She diagnosed one good reason for that: it felt so good to have his arm around her, and to contemplate a friendly day ahead, she didn’t feel like debating anything.

‘What else will we do today?’ she enquired.

‘I’m flying to Croydon for a meeting, cattle stuff. If you’d like to come, you could visit the old gold-rush museum and we could fly onto Karumba for lunch. Karumba is on the Gulf of Carpentaria.’

‘Sounds great. I think I’d like that very much.’

She did.

She pottered around Croydon while he was in his meeting, she marvelled at the size of the Norman River from the air and she enjoyed a seafood basket on a thick, green lawn beneath shady trees. The Sunset Tavern at
Karumba Point sat on the mouth of the Norman River and overlooked the shimmering waters of the gulf.

‘It must be magic at sunset,’ she said idly.

‘It is. Pity we can’t stay, but I’ve got another meeting this afternoon at Haywire.’ He stretched his legs out and clasped his hands behind his head.

‘Never mind. It’s been beautiful.’

He looked across at her. ‘You’re easy to please.’

‘I don’t think it’s that. It
has
been great.’ She pushed away her empty seafood-basket. ‘So were the prawns.’

He laughed. ‘Karumba is the headquarters of the gulf prawning-industry—they should be!’

Holly patted her stomach and sat back. That was when she noticed a couple of young women seated at a table nearby and how they were watching Brett with obvious fascination.

She grimaced mentally and felt some sympathy for them. Whether they knew who he was or not,
she
did. Thinking about him in his cargo pants and black sweatshirt, with his ruffled dark hair and that eagle intensity at times in his dark eyes, and with his tall, streamlined physique, she had no difficulty picturing him engaging in dangerous exploits like shooting tranquilizer darts out of helicopters or parachuting into jungles.

Worse than that, she herself had not been immune from the effect of Brett Wyndham, although it had been designated a ‘friendly’ day. His hands on her waist when he’d lifted her down from the plane had sent shivers through her. Walking side by side with him had done the same.

Even doing those mundane things—not to mention laughing, chatting and sometimes being teased by him,
channelled an awareness of him through her pores, both physical and mental.

I love him,
she thought suddenly.
I love being with him. I love his height and his strength, his hands; I love breathing in his essence. But how can that be? It’s only been a few days…

She looked up suddenly to see him eyeing her with a question in his eyes.

‘Sorry,’ she murmured, going faintly pink. ‘Did you say something?’

‘Only—ready to go?’

‘Oh. Yes. Whenever you are.’

‘Something wrong?’ His dark eyes scanned her intently.

‘No,’ she said slowly—but thought,
I don’t know; I just don’t know…

Back at Haywire that afternoon, she took herself to task and forbade any more deep thinking on the subject of Brett Wyndham—in relation to her personally, that was. She went to work on her notes while Brett had his next meeting. She didn’t ask what his business was, but two planes landed on the strip and he was closeted with the passengers for several hours.

She worked in her cabin, going over all the material she’d gathered, including the zoo details, and putting it into order.

She paused once; she was conscious of a lack, a hole in her story about Brett Wyndham, and realized it was the lack of any detail about his father. But there was another lack, she felt, brought on by her vision of him out at Karumba performing dangerous deeds. So far
she had no details about his life as a vet in far-off exotic lands, and she would need that.

She made some notes then paused again and frowned. It occurred to her that if she were asked whether she could capture the essence of Brett Wyndham she would have to say no. There
was
something missing. But what made her think that? Some invisible barrier in him, drawn fairly and squarely so you couldn’t cross it. The way just occasionally, when he was talking about his life, she sensed that he retreated and you knew without doubt you’d come to a no-go zone.

She realized she’d put it down to him being a genuine loner, but now she couldn’t help wondering if there was more to it.

She shook her head as she wondered if it was her imagination. Then she put her pen down as she heard the noise of aircraft engines, and the two visiting planes taking off. Bella scratched on her door. She let her in and noticed a note attached to her collar with her name on it.

‘Why, Bella,’ she murmured. ‘You clever girl!’

She smoothed the note open and digested the gist of it: a couple of the visitors had decided to stay overnight and would be picked up the following morning. Would Holly care to have dinner with them in about an hour?

Holly sent Bella back with an acceptance penned to the note. Then she went to find Sarah and offer her help, but Sarah was quite restored and wouldn’t hear of it. So Holly showered and changed, this time into slim burgundy trousers and a pale-grey jumper over a white blouse.

It was a pleasant evening.

The two visitors were a couple from a neighbouring station and they proved to be good, lively company. It wasn’t until ten-thirty that Holly excused herself and Brett walked her to her cabin.

‘Had a nice day?’ he enquired when they got there.

Holly turned to him impulsively. ‘I’ve had a
lovely
day!’

‘That’s good. Ready to fly back to Cairns tomorrow?’

Holly grimaced. ‘Yes, if not willing. But thanks for everything.’ She glanced back towards the homestead where his guests were still sitting. ‘You better get back. Goodnight.’

‘Goodnight,’ he echoed, but with an ironic little smile.

‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she said, then could have shot herself.

‘You do?’ He raised an eyebrow at her.

She clicked her tongue in some exasperation and soldiered on. ‘You’re thinking
I’m
thinking that I’ve been saved by the bell!’

‘Something like that,’ he agreed. ‘That the presence of visitors will prevent me from kissing you goodnight? But, since I’ve been on my best behaviour all day, and since it really has nothing to do with anyone else, you’re wrong.’

And he put his hands around her waist, drew her into him and kissed her deeply.

Holly came up for air with her pulses hammering and her whole body thrilling to his touch, to the feel of him against her.

He put her away from him gently and smoothed the collar of her blouse. ‘Don’t put the light on until you’re closed inside,’ he advised. ‘Goodnight.’ And he turned away.

It took ages for Holly to fall asleep that night as she examined and re-examined her feelings; as she wondered about his, was conscious of a thrilling little sense of excitement. How could she have grown so close to him in such a short time? she asked herself. It was like a miracle, for her. But it wasn’t only the physical attraction—although that was overwhelming enough—it was the powerful pull of his personality. It was as if he’d taken centre-stage in her life and she had no idea how to go on with that lynchpin removed…

Where would it all lead?

There was no opportunity for any personal interaction the next morning. The two guests were picked up after breakfast and then Brett and Kane were called to the home paddock for a colt with colic.

Holly watched the proceedings from the paddock fence as Brett worked to keep the horse on its feet whilst Kane prepared a drench. Once again she could see how good Brett was with animals as he soothed and walked the stricken horse and then administered the drench.

He came out of the paddock wearing khaki overalls, with sweat running down his face, and asked her if she was ready to leave. She nodded, said her goodbyes to Sarah and Bella and looked around. ‘Bye, Haywire,’ she murmured. ‘You’re quite a place.’

She hadn’t realized that Brett was watching her thoughtfully while she’d said her goodbyes.

When they were alone, finally in the air, they didn’t have much to say to each other at all, at first—until Brett made a detour and flew low over the ground to point out to her where he planned to locate the zoo.

‘There’s water.’ He indicated several dams. ‘There’s good ground cover, but of course we’ll have to feed by hand, so we’ll establish several feed-stations.’

‘There are no roads,’ she said slowly.

‘Not yet, and no fences, but that’ll all come.’

‘Are you planning to make it a tourist attraction?’ she queried. ‘I don’t know if it’s what you have in mind, but I read somewhere about a zoo that offered a camping ground as well. If you’re thinking of an adopt-an-animal scheme, people might be interested in seeing their animals in the flesh, so to speak.’

He glanced at her. ‘Good thinking.’

‘It’s a huge project.’

‘Yes,’ he agreed. ‘But it needs to be done—I feel, anyway. OK.’ The little plane lifted its nose and climbed. ‘Back to the mundane—well, back to Cairns, anyway, and the wedding.’

But fate had other ideas for them. Not long after they reached their cruising altitude, the plane seemed to stutter, and Brett swore.

‘What?’ Holly asked with her heart in her mouth.

‘I don’t know,’ he replied tersely as he scanned gauges and checked instruments. ‘But it could be a blocked fuelline. Listen, I’m going to bring her down.’ He scanned the horizon now. ‘Over there, as best I can.’

Her eyes nearly fell out on stalks. ‘Over there’
appeared to be a dry river-bed. ‘But we’re in the middle of nowhere!’

‘Better than what might be the alternative. I’m also going to put out all the appropriate distress signals and hope to get a response before we go down. Holly, just do exactly as I say and buckle in tightly. If anything happens to me, once we’re on the ground get out as fast as you can in case the fuel tanks go up.’

She swallowed convulsively several times as he spoke into his radio and the plane lost altitude and stuttered again.

Expecting to nose-dive out of the sky any moment—not that she knew anything about the mechanics of flying—she had to admire his absolute concentration and the way he nursed the little plane down.

‘All right, now duck your head and hold on tight,’ he ordered. ‘I’m bringing her in.’

Holly did just that as well as send up some urgent prayers for help, through the next terrifying, never-ending minutes.

They landed and hopped over the uneven sandy ground, slewing and skidding madly until they finally came to a halt with the nose about a metre from a huge gum-tree on the bank. A cloud of birds rose from the tree.

It had been like being in a dry washing-machine, for Holly. She’d been buffeted and bruised even within the confine of her seat belt. Her limbs had reacted like she’d been a rag doll being shaken, but all of a sudden everything was still and there was an unearthly quiet. Even the birds had stopped squawking.