‘That’s a good question,’ Alex said. ‘I’ve finished a law degree and I was all set to join a law firm in Brisbane, but I’ve just heard, while I was in England, that my uncle has died and left me his property in northern Queensland.’
‘Goodness. I’m sorry to hear about your uncle, but lucky you.’
‘It was a shock.’
‘I live in North Queensland.’
His dark eyebrows rose. ‘I knew it.’
‘You knew where I lived?’
‘No, I knew —’ He stopped and looked away to the busy tarmac where a plane was whizzing down the runway, gathering speed for take-off. When he turned back to her, his smile was almost shy. ‘I knew you were going to be important to me.’
It was as if a gong had been struck inside Emily. She was used to flattery from men, but this, coming from Alex, seemed different. Felt so much more significant.
‘What sort of property did your uncle own?’ she asked when she regained control of her breathing.
‘A cattle property. Out near Cloncurry. It’s called Red Hill.’
‘Have you been there?’
‘Many years ago, when I was about ten.’
‘Did you like it?’
‘I loved it, actually. I learned to ride horses. And to drive a ute. It was amazing, tearing across those endless plains on horseback, or in the ute.’ He gave a light laugh. ‘I came close to killing myself a couple of times.’
She could well imagine the allure of such youthful recklessness. It sounded like the sort of thing her mother would have loved.
‘Would you want to live out there?’ she asked.
‘I might,’ Alex said. ‘I’ve been asking myself why my uncle left the place to me and not to my father, his brother. I have a feeling he was worried Dad would just automatically sell it. I think he hoped I might take over and run it.’
‘How do you feel about that?’ Emily couldn’t quite believe she was asking a man she’d virtually just met so many personal questions, but after avoiding him for weeks, she now felt extraordinarily comfortable, as if they were already … friends.
‘I’ll admit I’m tempted to turn myself into a cattleman,’ Alex said. ‘But I need to get back out to Red Hill to take a good look around. I’d have a hell of a lot to learn. I know next to nothing about cattle.’
He turned to her with another of those smiles that made creases at the corners of his eyes. ‘Enough about me. Where do you live in North Queensland?’
Emily told him about Burralea, about the Lake House and about her mother running the Bugle.
‘That’s impressive.’
‘Yes.’ Her mother’s story always impressed.
‘And you?’ he asked. ‘What do you do?’
‘Oh, I try my hand at this and that. I’ve spent the past year working on and off, in shoe shops, mostly, in London. I travelled, of course. Scotland, Europe. I suppose you might call me a dabbler. I’m nothing like my parents. Sometimes I think I must have been a changeling.’
He looked amused. ‘Why do you say that?’
In truth, Emily wasn’t sure why she’d been so brutally honest. Perhaps it was the sense that she and this man had spent too much time not getting to know each other. She found herself telling Alex extra details she never usually talked about. Her parents’ heroism during the war, and then, her mother taking over the newspaper after her father’s death.
‘She’s so strong,’ Emily said. ‘It’s a lot to live up to.’
‘Yes, it would be. But you’ve been travelling on your own and that takes courage.’
‘I suppose so.’ But Emily had been hoping that her travels would bring her a new awareness of life’s possibilities. It was disappointing to realise she was no closer to ‘finding herself’ than she’d been before she left home.
‘And you’re an excellent listener,’ Alex said. ‘That’s a gift in itself.’
They talked throughout their flight to Brisbane, sitting close together, leaning closer still and keeping their voices low. They talked in more detail about their travels. Emily had fallen in love with Scotland and Spain. Alex had been very impressed by Norway where he’d travelled above the Arctic Circle. Neither of them had been to Ireland. They agreed they would have to go back one day.
They talked about the people they’d met, the food they’d eaten, the sights they’d seen. It wasn’t till they were about to land in Brisbane that Alex told Emily he needed to see her again, that he would like to catch up with her when he came north.
She did her best to appear nonchalant, but it was exactly what she wanted to hear.
In Brisbane they shared a taxi and Alex accompanied her to her hotel and left the cabbie to wait, while she checked in and organised for her luggage to be stowed, and he walked with her to her room.
Of course, she told him there was no need for such gallantry.
‘Who’s being gallant?’ he asked as she pushed her door open. ‘I’m here because I need to kiss you.’
Emily’s heart tumbled a slow, happy somersault. ‘Thank heavens for that. I was worried you just wanted to talk.’
Alex laughed and, despite the waiting taxi, he took his time, closing the door behind them and drawing her close. His kiss was deep and tender and perfect. Everything about him was so right. She couldn’t believe she’d spent so long avoiding him.
‘I’ve waited a long time for this,’ he said.
‘You have?’
‘Since I first saw you in Portsmouth boarding the ship.’
Breathless with surprise, Emily tried to remember that day. She’d been busy organising the pieces of her luggage that went into the hold and those which she kept in the cabin.
And Alex had been watching her. All that time.
‘But you ignored me.’
He shook his head. ‘Never.’
Now, she lifted her hands to his shoulders and they kissed again, with fresh urgency.
‘You have to go,’ she told him with great reluctance.
‘I know.’ His arms tightened around her and he brushed his mouth over hers as if he needed to remember the taste and the feel of her.
Finally, he released her. ‘Okay, I’m leaving now.’
She couldn’t quite hold back her disappointed sigh, but then he took something from his pocket and pressed it into her hand.
It was a knotted circlet, made of white rope, similar to the knot he’d been fashioning on the ship.
‘Thank you,’ she said softly as she fingered it, feeling the small bumps and smooth lines.
‘It’s a knot bracelet,’ he said. ‘In the old days, the sailors used to make them for their sweethearts.’
She was blushing and ridiculously pleased. She slipped it over her wrist.
At the door, he paused and looked back. ‘Do you think you might like to come out to Red Hill with me?’
Already, at that early point, Emily knew that he was actually asking her so much more.
‘I’d love to,’ she said.
She had travelled to Europe to find herself and she’d come home and found Alex instead. Feminists and her mother might not be impressed. Emily was brimming with happiness.
A month later, Alex arrived at the Lake House. Emily had primed her mother, and Izzie had said that of course Alex was welcome to visit. She hadn’t even seemed to mind that her daughter planned to take off on a trip to western Queensland with a man she’d only just met.
This was a huge relief for Emily, but she was still nervous about a meeting between her mother and the man she’d fallen for. She was even a little scared that when she saw Alex again on home soil, she might no longer find him quite so attractive.
Luckily, her heart wasn’t the least bit fickle. From the moment Alex emerged from his car, hot, dusty and tired after his long journey, Emily was lit from inside with incandescent joy. Everything about him was as perfect as she’d remembered. With this man by her side, she felt ready to take on any challenge.
Izzie, small, slim and straight-ba
cked, greeted Alex warmly enough. He had brought her chocolates and a bottle of wine, but she wasn’t a woman to be won over by gifts. It was the cut of the man her daughter had chosen that mattered most and, to Emily’s relief, Izzie seemed to approve. Alex was good looking, well mannered and he had clear goals to make a success of his life, whether he went into law or the cattle business. He would do.
‘Mind you,’ Izzie said, addressing her daughter over the dinner table that evening. ‘If Alex decides to take on the cattle property, your life won’t be easy.’
Emily gasped in shocked embarrassment. ‘Mum, for heaven’s sake. Alex and I are only friends. He hasn’t proposed marriage.’ She was too mortified to catch Alex’s eye.
Her mother gave no hint of an apology, however, and after the meal, she cornered Emily in the kitchen, knowing full well that Alex was within hearing distance.
‘It’s worth being forewarned, Emily,’ she said. ‘There’s no point in having romantic notions about life on a cattle station. It won’t be a matter of sitting around enjoying afternoon tea with other graziers’ wives. You’ll have to pitch in and help. You’ll be running the household, cleaning and cooking for the stockmen, growing vegetables – there are no handy shops nearby – and you’ll be supervising your children’s education.’
Her smile for Emily had been almost taunting. ‘It could be the making of you, my dear.’
Alex had overheard this of course, and he was incensed. That night, he stole through the darkness to Emily’s room.
‘Your mother’s wrong,’ he whispered fiercely as he drew Emily into his arms. ‘How dare she forecast the life I might provide for you.’ Wrapping her close, he continued. ‘If I go ahead with the cattle, I wouldn’t ask you to do anything you didn’t want to do. I would hire a housekeeper, a cook, a governess, a gardener. Whatever you needed. And if I couldn’t manage all that, I would go back to law. I won’t have you slaving just to keep your mother happy.’
He sounded so indignant and so gorgeously protective, Emily loved him more deeply than ever. ‘I wouldn’t mind pulling my weight,’ she assured him. She was sure she was ready for a challenge.
Alex lifted his head, so he could read her face in the faint moonlight. ‘I promise you, my darling, that whatever we decide, if she doesn’t like it, I’ll stick up for you.’
Looking back with the benefit of hindsight, Emily wished she had been stronger, tried harder, right from the very start, to ease the niggling tensions between her mother and Alex. While there had never been open warfare, the tension had simmered away throughout their marriage. It seemed so obvious to her now that instead of relishing the way Alex had stood up for her, she should have made an effort at the very beginning to smooth the way for the decades ahead.
Now, Robbie’s death had churned that tension into a deep, dark, painful chasm and Emily was riddled with regret.
CHAPTER THIRTY
A thick white mist shrouded the track as Finn drove away from the Lake House. Of necessity, he was silent, concentrating on the barely visible path that wound through the trees, while Chloe huddled in the passenger seat, wrapped in a pashmina, and tried to picture the days ahead.
It was settled. Finn would go to Thailand. Using his mobile phone, he had already booked his flights, and Chloe would look after the Bugle, as well as Finn’s daughter.
Chloe wasn’t nervous about the newspaper. Lately she’d felt she had a good grasp of what was expected. Caring for Bree was another matter entirely.
She tried to remember what it was like to be twelve, but she had been the youngest of three and her life had been safe and suburban and ordinary. At twelve, her major concerns had centred on being picked for the school’s netball team, or finding books in the library by her favourite authors.
A year earlier, Chloe’s grandmother had died and Chloe had been sad, of course, but it had been a gentle kind of grieving, shared with her entire family. In other words, her life couldn’t have been more different from Bree’s.
It was only when Finn turned onto the bitumen where the driving was easier, with clear white lines marking the centre and edges of the road, that he spoke. ‘Chloe, I hope I’m not dumping too much on you.’
‘You really shouldn’t worry about me,’ she said. ‘But I can’t help wondering how you were planning to entertain Bree and keep running the Bugle at the same time.’
In the dim interior of the car, she saw his grimace. ‘I must admit, I was relying on Moira Briggs for inspiration. She seemed to have a whole list of ideas about how to keep Bree occupied.’
‘Well, yes, Moira’s certainly resourceful.’ And then, because she was actually rather worried, ‘I hope Bree isn’t too upset about the change of plans.’
Finn’s heavy sigh sounded above the purring of the car’s motor. He’d rung his parents to try to talk to Bree, only to learn that she’d gone to bed early without any prompting or arguments, because she was so looking forward to her early morning flight. ‘I’ll try to catch her in the morning. If not, I’ll phone from Singapore to reassure her it’s only for a few days.’
‘You hope.’
He didn’t respond to this. After a bit, he said, ‘You should probably stay at my cottage. Your flat only has the one bed.’
This was true. Chloe had been wondering how comfortable her sofa was for sleeping, but she wished her skin hadn’t zapped the very instant Finn mentioned the word bed. ‘All right,’ she said cautiously.
‘How about I take you back to my place now, so you can check it out?’
It was a simple question, so why did it feel complicated?
Chloe told herself she was being an idiot, reading double meanings where there were none. She nodded. ‘Just a quick look, I guess.’
Finn’s cottage was in Cedar Lane, the other side of town, on the very edge of farmland, and set back behind a brunfelsia hedge. A light on the front porch showed the hedge’s pale flowers and a sweet scent followed them up the short, uneven brick path.
‘It’s very basic,’ he said as he pushed the front door open and turned on a light.
The building might have been basic, but Finn had given it a touch of the exotic with bright silk cushions and throw rugs and interesting pieces of pottery.
‘You’ve made it very nice,’ Chloe said, trying to ignore the tension that had gripped her from the moment she’d walked through the front door into his private domain. ‘I suppose you’ve collected these interesting bits and pieces from all over the world?’
‘More or less.’ He looked almost as tense as she was. He nodded to a doorway. ‘I’m putting Bree in that room.’
Chloe crossed to the room’s entrance and Finn came behind her, reaching around to flick the light switch.
‘It’s nearly all second-hand stuff,’ he said.
The little room held a single bed covered with a white chenille spread and a bright-red batik throw. A multicoloured rag mat brightened the floor and a chest of drawers, painted white, stood against the opposite wall. Above it hung a mirror with an enchanting frame made from driftwood twigs. Hooks on the walls took the place of a wardrobe and a little timber bookcase painted a distressed green held a tantalising collection of books and magazines.
‘I think Bree will love it,’ Chloe said, genuinely impressed. She pictured a vase of flowers on the chest of drawers. Something bright, yellow daisies, perhaps. She should try to get some tomorrow. ‘You have a secret flair for interior decorating.’
Finn gave a smiling shake of his head. ‘Alice Drummond helped. She’s the expert.’
‘Alice Drummond?’ Chloe tamped down the stupid spurt of jealousy.
‘My mate Seth Drummond’s wife. They were hosting that barbecue I mentioned.’
‘Oh, yes, of course.’ Ridiculously, she found it hard to breathe. She was far too aware of Finn standing close behind her, reminding her, in vivid detail, of what happened when he got too close. The heat of his kisses, the delirious pleasure of his hands on her skin, of their bodies locked and urgent.<
br />
It might have been only sex, but right now it was all Chloe could think about. She tried to remember the reasons why sex between co-workers might be unwise. Finn was her boss – except that he wasn’t really. Only Emily could hire and fire her. Finn was simply her immediate superior. Were there rules about that?
‘So – the kitchen?’ she asked and her voice was way too breathy.
When Finn didn’t answer, she turned to find him staring at her, which only increased her breathing difficulties. It was almost as if a spell had been cast, freezing them both into statues.
He swallowed. ‘Yes, right, the kitchen.’ Abruptly he turned. ‘It’s through here.’
A crazy zinging strummed inside her as she followed him. His kitchen was old-fashioned with yellow laminex bench tops and a free-standing, glass-fronted cupboard filled with mismatched crockery. It reminded her of her grandmother’s kitchen from years ago. If she opened the pantry door, she would probably catch remembered scents from childhood … nutmeg and cinnamon …
‘The stovetop is gas and the oven’s electric. I think you’ll find the freezer is reasonably well stocked.’ Finn paused. ‘So – any questions?’
Chloe knew there must be a host of things she needed to know, but her brain had completely stalled.
Finn waited, his gaze intense, his eyes once again burning.
She shook her head. ‘All good.’
‘Ohhh-kay.’ He drew the word out. ‘There’s not much else to show you. The bathroom’s at the back. And then there’s – my room.’
‘Right.’
‘As I said, this place is basic.’
‘But with a certain rustic charm.’
He smiled, then seemed at a loss. After what felt like an age, he asked, ‘So – would you like to see my room?’
It wasn’t necessary. Not necessary at all.
‘It’s a bit of a mess,’ he said.
‘I don’t mind.’ Why on earth had she said that?
A beat passed and it was her chance to turn back, to ask him to drive her home. Finn was watching her closely. Waiting. She knew her response was vitally important. She could go home now, or she could risk ending up in bed with him. Again.
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