by Valerie Parv
All things considered, he’d gotten off lightly, he decided. Now all he had to do was get out of here. His days as Max’s right-hand man were over, but he’d achieved his aim so he wasn’t about to shed any tears of regret.
Earlier in the evening, he’d left his car parked facing the main gate in case he needed a fast getaway. As he headed for it, he saw headlights sweep the driveway coming from the opposite direction, luckily without pinpointing him in their glare. He recognized the car pulling up outside the house. What the devil was Max doing back so soon?
Concern that the stakes had just been raised warred with jubilation that Judy was no longer enjoying Max’s company. What was going on? Lights were springing on all around the house and Ryan imagined Coghlan giving Max a full report. Ryan swore. In a few minutes, they’d be swarming out here on his tail.
They hadn’t thought of his car yet. He could see it parked where he’d left it under a tree. But before he could reach it, a pair of shapes loomed out of the darkness. His heartbeat trebled. Shock and blood loss were making him shaky. He had hoped to get away without encountering any more resistance. He pulled himself up. He could still fight if he had to.
He braced himself as the taller figure came closer. “Rye, is that you?”
The lowered voice was so unexpected that Ryan faltered. “Blake? What in the devil…”
A hearty thump on his back almost knocked him off his feet. “Not the devil, the cavalry, come to save your hide. Just in time, from the looks of things.”
“Speaking of time, we should get out of here,” came another low voice.
Ryan swung toward the source, his heart doing an involuntary leap. “Judy? What the hell are you doing here? Your date just came home without you.”
“I didn’t give him much choice, although I didn’t mean to make things difficult for you.”
“Let’s discuss all this back at the ranch,” Blake insisted. “Got your car keys, mate?”
“Yes, and my gear’s in the back in case I got caught in the act.” Ryan hesitated, knowing how Judy was likely to react. “The problem is, I’m not in shape to drive.”
She didn’t disappoint him. “You’re injured? Let me see. Oh my Lord, you’ve been shot.”
He brushed away her hand, although everything in him wanted to let her touch him and keep on touching. And not in any medical way. This wasn’t the time. “Only grazed, nothing serious. Probably looks worse than it is.”
“Since I can’t see how bad it looks, I’ll assume the worst,” she said in a taut voice. “You ride with Blake. His car’s right behind yours.”
He heard Blake move away. “You’re going to drive mine?” Ryan asked Judy.
“No, I’m going to tow it to a hill and push it home.” Her sarcasm didn’t disguise the worry he heard in her tone. “What do you think?”
“I think you’re amazing,” he said and grabbed her. His night vision had improved to the point where the kiss landed on her open mouth. He heard her gasp in shock. “Purely medicinal,” he said before she could react.
He heard her mutter an obscenity as she turned and headed for his car. Only she could make rude words sound so poetic, he decided, following Blake and holding the handkerchief to his temple.
The quiet getaway he’d planned was already shot to pieces, so there was no point trying to roll the cars without starting the engines. However they left the lights off so they were in shadow in contrast to the pools of light around the homestead. By the time Max and his people realized their quarry was getting away, Blake was speeding through the open homestead gates with Judy close behind.
“Eat our dust,” Blake said with satisfaction as they accelerated away. With several back roads they could take, Max couldn’t have them followed in the dark. They also had another ace in the hole—Max didn’t yet know of the connection between Ryan Smith and the Logans. He had no reason to suspect that Ryan would head for Diamond Downs.
“How do you feel, mate?” Blake asked when they were far enough away to use the car’s headlights.
Like he’d been kicked in the head by a buffalo. Out loud, he said, “I’ll live.”
“No doubt, but will the guy who shot at you?”
“Mick Coghlan is a dead man,” Ryan snarled.
Blake’s eyebrows arched upward. “Tell me you don’t mean that literally.”
For the first time in hours, Ryan felt his mouth relax into a smile. Blake had an uncanny ability to put him at ease, probably why he was so good at dealing with the public at his crocodile farm. “Despite the temptation, I didn’t kill him,” he said. “He got off a lucky shot, that’s all.”
“If he’s still standing, he’s luckier than he knows,” Blake observed. “Pity we can’t tell the cops about this.”
“Not without explaining what I was up to,” Ryan said. “Nothing would make me happier than seeing that bastard, Coghlan, put away. He’s been itching for a chance to take me on since Horvath anointed me his favorite son.”
“Then Coghlan should be pleased you disinherited yourself tonight. From the look of you, he nearly finished your relationship with Horvath permanently.” As a cattle grid loomed out of the night he slowed, signaling to Judy that he was heading onto their land, then continued, “On the way here, Judy told me you were looking for the file of old family papers. Did you have any luck finding it?”
Ryan hesitated. He’d found more than he’d bargained for. “I’ll explain everything back at Diamond Downs,” he compromised.
Blake nodded. “Makes sense. Then you don’t have to go over everything twice.”
Given a choice, Ryan would rather not go over the story at all. He wondered if he could make more of his injury than was warranted to avoid telling them everything, then just as quickly dismissed the idea. First, Judy would have him at the hospital so fast his feet wouldn’t touch the ground. Then she’d still want to know what he’d found. He closed his eyes, trying to shut out the pain from his temple while he considered what in blazes he was going to tell her.
By the time they reached Diamond Downs, he still had no answer. He bought himself some time while she fussed over the graze. As he’d told her, it was slight but he cursed volubly as she applied antiseptic to the wound. “I thought women were supposed to have a gentle touch.”
“And men are supposed to be strong and stoic, not carry on like babies,” she scolded.
But he hadn’t missed the panicky look in her eyes when she’d checked him over in the light as soon as they got inside. The blood crusting the side of his face hadn’t helped, but even when she’d cleaned that off, she wasn’t much happier. “This ought to be treated by a doctor.”
He caught her hand and pressed her palm to his lips. “I’ll settle for my favorite paramedic.”
She pulled her hand free. “Be sensible.”
“How can I be sensible? I’m injured, probably delirious.”
She frowned. “Delusional, most likely. You were in that state before Coghlan shot at you.”
Was it delusional to feel as if her touch sent a thousand volts of electricity through him? Probably, he concluded. He felt stupid enough to be glad he had an excuse to have her minister to him. How crazy could a man be?
As soon as they reached the homestead, Blake had called the crocodile park to assure Cade and Des that everything was all right. At Ryan’s request, he’d omitted to mention Ryan’s misadventure. No sense worrying the older man unduly.
“How is Des?” Ryan asked to take his mind off Judy’s touch.
Blake answered. “He’s fine. Cade was having dinner with us and volunteered to stay behind, so we didn’t have to leave Des on his own.”
Another tendril of guilt receded. Ryan didn’t like admitting even to himself how concerned he’d been about being responsible for a sick man being left alone.
“He wouldn’t have been on his own in any event. His lady friend was visiting,” Judy added for Ryan’s benefit.
This was news. Ryan raised an eyebrow, wincing as the
gesture sent a bright stab of pain through his temple. “Who is this lady friend?”
“Her name’s Tracey Blair,” Blake supplied.
“Why is that name familiar.”
“She’s a friend of Judy’s. Heather Wilton brought a group of children down from Citronne Station to stay with her. Evidently, Tracey was the kids’ teacher when she lived up that way,” Blake said.
“Hold still, will you,” Judy complained. “Tracey’s a missionary. We met when she was teaching near Lake Argyle, where Heather got to know her. She moved to Halls Creek a couple of months ago for health reasons and has opened a shop selling her own hand-printed dress designs.”
“A missionary dress designer? Not your usual idea of a straightlaced missionary then,” Ryan mused.
Blake laughed. “Tracey’s about as far from being a straightlaced missionary as you can get. She’s passionate about ancient rock art as well.”
Ryan tried not to flinch as Judy applied an adhesive dressing to his temple. That would be coming off as soon as her back was turned. For now, it was easier to humor her, especially as he was starting to feel decidedly unsteady. “Has Shara met Tracey? They should get along well, since they’re both into that stuff.”
“Like a house on fire,” Blake agreed. “Tracey supplied Shara with some of her designs after Jamal shanghaied her to Australia in only the clothes she stood up in. She’s a terrific woman.”
“Shara or Tracey?”
Blake laughed. “Take your pick. If Tracey wasn’t closer to Des’s age, I could fancy her myself.”
An image of Blake’s beautiful fiancée, Jo Francis, sprang into Ryan’s mind. “Jo might have something to say about that,” he joked.
“Too late, mate, they’ve already bonded. Cade, Des and I could hardly get a word in edgewise during dinner. Having six kids in tow may have had a bit to do with it.”
Ryan watched Judy replace her potions in the station’s well-equipped medical kit. “Six, huh?”
“Seven if you count her son, Daniel,” Judy put in. “I suggested they talk to you about a guided tour of the crocodile park while they’re in town.”
“You also gave Tracey a good excuse to call on Des,” Blake said.
Judy frowned. “You’re imagining things.”
Blake winked at Ryan. “Your dad might have a bad heart, but everything else still works, as he’s fond of reminding us. With everything Des has had to deal with lately, Tracey might be just the tonic he needs.”
Judy’s face was a study, as if she didn’t want to accept that her father might feel more than friendship for the older woman. Ryan sympathized, knowing it was a lot to deal with. Des hadn’t been involved in a relationship since Fran’s death, as far as Ryan was aware. After his own father left them, his mother had dated a few times and Ryan remembered being angry at what he thought was her disloyalty to his father. He understood better now, but sometimes wondered if his mother had remained single because of his reaction. As an adult, he hoped Judy would be more understanding of Des’s needs.
Judy closed her kit with a snap and Blake stood up. “What’s the medical advice on giving your patient a beer?”
“Contraindicated, but if you must, make it low-alcohol,” she prescribed.
Ryan nodded and wished he hadn’t when shooting stars fringed his vision. “I’ll need something to wash down the pain meds.”
Judy made a face. “I thought you tough guys didn’t need them. Don’t you bite on a bullet or something?”
“Precautionary,” he said and held out his hand.
With an expression that said plainly Men!, she dropped the aspirin he’d seen her shake out of a bottle into his palm. He swallowed the tablets dry before Blake put a can of beer into his hand. Low-alcohol, as prescribed. Well, it was better than nothing. He cracked the top and drank deeply. “Nectar,” he said when he lowered the can.
“You do know it’s after midnight?” Judy observed.
He shrugged. “Sun’s always over the yardarm somewhere in the world.”
She disposed of the debris of surgical spirit and absorbent cotton, and came back with a beer for herself. “In that case, you’re not too tired to tell us what you found in your raid on Max’s house.”
Hoist with his own petard, he toyed with the beer can, his mind working overtime. Could he pretend that the deed didn’t exist? By now, Horvath would know he had the document and might spill the beans to Judy out of pure malice. She wasn’t going to take the news well, whoever it came from. Ryan decided he’d rather be the one to tell her.
So he did.
When he’d finished, she held out her hand. With no expression in her voice she said, “Can I see the letter, please?”
He fumbled unbuttoning his shirt pocket. The thumping in his head was receding with the medication, but his hands were still a touch unsteady. The photo and document he pulled out were creased but otherwise none the worse for his experience. He handed them over. “Copies of the journal pages and the other photo of Jack are in my camera,” he said. “We can go over them in the morning.”
She read the legal letter without comment, before passing the page to Blake who did the same. Then she fixed her gaze on the photo of Jack Logan and Lizina Smith and her child. Ryan wished the floor would swallow him up. He would have done almost anything rather than be the cause of the troubled look on her face.
Finally, she looked at him. Her eyes were misty but her tone sounded firm. “It seems we’ve been fighting Max Horvath for control of a piece of land we haven’t owned for over sixty years.”
Blake inclined his head in agreement. He also looked troubled. “Seems that way.”
“A bit of paper doesn’t change anything. My grandmother never married your great-grandfather,” Ryan insisted. “Hell, I never knew they had anything to do with each other.”
Judy smiled wanly. “I had heard tales of another woman in my great-grandfather’s life but the details were glossed over, and Smith is a common name. I never thought of connecting Lizina with you. According to the little I know, Great-grandma Adelaide died from snakebite in 1940 and Jack brought Lizina to Diamond Downs around 1946. Must have been a real love match because they had to run the gauntlet of family disapproval. The few times my grandparents mentioned her, she was referred to as that foreign woman, as if she’d led my great-grandfather astray.”
Ryan gestured at the photo lying between them on the table. “She looks to be about half his age.”
Blake raised his beer can. “Way to go, Jack.”
Judy frowned at him. “The age difference was scandalous enough, and she was unmarried with a child by an unknown father when they met, shocking for the time.”
“Way to go, Lizina,” Ryan echoed softly. He was beginning to like the grandmother he’d never known, although he wished the discovery hadn’t brought such a bleak look to Judy’s face. “I wonder why they didn’t marry.”
“He disappeared before they could do the deed,” Blake suggested.
Judy smoothed out the yellowed letter. “He must have known the family would send her on her way if he wasn’t around, and gave her the land so she’d be protected in case anything happened to him. Maybe he had a premonition.”
Ryan finished his beer. He felt deathly tired and ached all over from his run-in with Coghlan. “We’ll never know for sure.”
She gestured toward the letter. “What do you want to do about this?”
He hadn’t realized he’d reached a decision until he said, “Not a damned thing.”
“You can’t do nothing. In the absence of any other claimants from your family, you own Cotton Tree Gorge.”
“And quite possibly a fortune in diamonds,” Blake added quietly. “You can’t pretend nothing’s changed.”
“I can see a lawyer and arrange to give the land back to you and Des,” Ryan told Judy. “I never wanted your land, and I’m doing fine without the diamonds.”
“You think Des will accept such a gift?”
Ryan stood u
p, gripping the edge of the table when his legs felt like jelly. “Des’ll have no problem with it because neither of you are going to tell him what I found. We’ll show him my photos of the journal pages and forget all about the letter.”
“You’re overlooking Max,” she pointed out. “After tonight, he’s going to do everything in his power to get his hands on the diamonds. Now he knows you have the deed, you’ll be his prime target.”
Ryan touched the bandage at his temple. “I became his target when I broke into his office. Before, he just wanted the diamonds. Now, it’s personal between us.”
Ryan hadn’t said which of them would make it personal, Judy noticed. She had a feeling Ryan would make revenge as much a priority as Max would. The two were like gunslingers in the American Old West. The Kimberley wasn’t big enough for both of them. Had the situation not been so serious, she might have smiled at the situation. Some women thought having men fight over them was romantic. Judy found the prospect alarming and knew it was because she didn’t want Ryan getting hurt.
Her paramedic training had been useful tonight, but what if the injury had been more serious? She wasn’t equipped to deal with bullet wounds. The thought of him lying in a pool of blood made her feel light-headed until she reminded herself he was here now, safe and well.
“It’s late. We aren’t going to settle this now. How about we sleep on it and talk some more tomorrow?” she suggested.
“Spoken like a true procrastinator,” Ryan said, but his smile signaled agreement.
Blake nodded, too. “Good idea. Cade said he’s happy to stay at the park overnight and help Jo keep an eye on Des, so I’ll bunk down here and head back to relieve them first thing in the morning.” He crushed his beer can and took it into the kitchen, then bid them goodnight and left them alone.
After tonight’s adventure, Judy knew she wouldn’t get much sleep even if she did go to bed. “I’m going to stay up for a while.”
“Not sleepy?”
“Too keyed up.”