by Margaret Way
‘It shouldn’t have been,’ Carrie said, acutely aware of her own change of heart. ‘You might as well know, Mamma, I gave Scott his ring back.’ No need to say she had pitched it at him.
‘Darling!’ For one extraordinary moment there was a gleam of satisfaction in Alicia’s eyes. ‘He must have received one hell of a shock, being, as he is, God’s gift to women. My only concern is for you. If you don’t want to marry Scott Harper, there’s just one thing to do. Tell him. But first give him a chance to apologise. To tell you he deeply regrets causing you pain. I’m sure he’ll do just that.’
Katie appeared from the direction of the kitchen and Alicia held up her hand. ‘Yoo-hoo, Katie, Carrie and I would love two more coffees. The little pastries were delicious.’
‘Glad you liked ’em, Mrs. Mac!’ Katie called cheerfully.
Just as her mother had predicted Scott, looking pallid beneath his tan and deeply troubled, sought out his ex-fiancée. The diamond solitaire was in his shirt pocket. No way could he let Carrie go out of his life. She was perfect. What girl ever was or would be again?
It was another brilliant day. A big barbecue lunch had been organised in the park to start at 1:00 p.m. Afterwards entertainment had been arranged for the kids, clowns and games, kites and balloons, rides on the darling little Shetland ponies and for the older, more daring kids, rides on two very aristocratic looking desert camels.
Carrie was helping out at the tables when Scott approached her. ‘Carrie, could I talk to you, please?’
‘It’s okay, love, go right ahead. We’re fine here,’ one of the women on the committee called to her, giving Scott a coy wave.
‘Last night was a nightmare,’ Scott began wretchedly. He took Carrie’s arm, drawing her along a path beneath a canopy of white flowering bauhinia trees like a bridal walk. ‘I can’t tell you how sorry I am any of that happened. I’ve been agonising about it and I reckon someone had to have spiked my drink. I’ve never been so out of it in my life.’
‘The question is will you be out of it again?’ Beautiful as the day was, sorry as Scott seemed, Carrie wasn’t ready to forgive. She had come very close to being violated. Scott’s assault on her had caused revulsion and a sense of inner devastation. She had trusted him. She knew it was a struggle for him no sex before marriage but she sincerely believed it was worthwhile for both of them. Her mood of desolation was further deepened by the knowledge he had been on the point of hitting her and from the look on his face, hitting her very hard. Physical violence horrified her.
‘I swear by all that’s holy, I’ll never force myself on you again,’ Scott said, sounding miserably abject. ‘It was all the alcohol, Carrie. That and seeing you in Cunningham’s arms. It drove me right off the edge.’
‘Why exactly?’ Carrie asked. ‘We were enjoying a dance in front of hundreds of people. You didn’t catch us in some compromising position.’
‘It was the look on your face,’ Scott said. ‘It had a closeness about it you never give me.’
‘Nonsense,’ Carrie said firmly, though she felt herself under scrutiny. ‘You’re a frighteningly jealous person. Now I think about it, a domineering sort of man.’ Like your father, hung in the air.
‘What is it, Carrie?’ Scott groaned. ‘You need me to be perfect? Near inhuman? I’m madly in love with you. I’m a man of twenty-nine, nearly thirty, and you don’t want me to touch you? Do you know how hard that is?’
‘Yes, I do,’ she said quietly, her reaction to Clay Cunningham taking over her mind, ‘but I was proud of your sense of discipline, your consideration of my wishes.’
‘You can’t forgive me for one mistake?’ Scott just stopped himself from turning ugly.
‘That one mistake showed me you’re not the man I thought you were,’ Carrie said, brushing a spent white bauhinia blossom from her shoulder. ‘You were even going to hit me. Don’t deny it. You were going to slap me very hard. That was bad, Scott. Is that what you do when a woman doesn’t give consent?’
‘Oh God, Carrie!’ Scott’s voice was a heartfelt lament. ‘I wouldn’t really have hit you. I think maybe I thought about it for half a second.’
‘Wrong. You were about to do it. Somehow I was able to stop you. Perhaps it was the disgust in my voice.’
Quite simply it had been. ‘Carrie, I can’t really remember last night,’ he said. ‘I can’t be certain I hadn’t been given some drug.’
‘Did you take something?’ She glanced up at him, knowing there was nowhere designer drugs hadn’t reached.
‘Carrie, stop punishing me,’ he said. ‘I love you. I’m desperate to marry you. I’ll never deliberately cause you pain again. I beg you. Give me one more chance.’ His eyes were extraordinarily intense. ‘Is that too much to ask of the girl who’s supposed to love me? You can’t abandon me for one mistake.’
‘Two bad mistakes.’
‘We’re getting married in December,’ Scott pressed on. ‘I’ve tried. God, how I’ve tried!’
This at least was true. Despite herself Carrie found herself moved by his obvious pain and contrition. ‘Oh, Scott,’ she sighed in a dispirited kind of way. She had a big problem now deciding she had ever loved him. A problem that hadn’t really existed before Clay Cunningham came back into their lives.
‘Please, darling.’ Scott fumbled for the diamond solitaire in his pocket. ‘A commitment has been made, Carrie. We can sort this out. Everyone is so happy we’re together. My parents, your parents. Your dad and I are good mates. He thoroughly approves me of as a son-in-law.’
Wasn’t that the truth! An outsider if asked might have said Scott was Bruce McNevin’s offspring rather than his daughter.
‘Let me prove to you all over again how much I love you,’ Scott said ardently, lifting her hand and pushing his ring home on her finger. ‘I’m nothing without you.’ He lifted her hand to his mouth and kissed it tenderly. ‘Say you forgive me.’
Carrie shook her head. ‘That’s impossible for me to say today, Scott.’ She had never felt so dejected, so unsure of herself to the point of tears.
‘It’s your father. He’s coming towards us,’ Scott told her swiftly, seeing Bruce McNevin hurrying towards them across the grass. ‘Don’t let me down.’
‘Ah, there you are, you two!’ Bruce McNevin, having witnessed that heart-warming little moment between Carrie and Scott, called to them in a voice that was almost affectionate. A big concession for him. ‘I’ve organised a corner table for all of us near the fountain. Your mother and father, Scott, Alicia and I and you two lovebirds.’ He eyed them both with wry amusement. ‘Goodness, from the look of you both, you must have been up all night.’
‘Darn nearly sir.’ Scott flashed his prospective father-in-law a respectful smile. ‘Thanks for organising the table. I can tell you we’re definitely hungry.’
Clay stayed in town for three reasons: as the winner of the Jimboorie Cup; to get to know people; and to avail himself of the magnificent barbecue lunch free to all. Or so he told himself. Why he really stayed was to keep a watchful eye on Caroline. She had well and truly aroused his protective streak which was always near the surface when it came to vulnerable women. Now he wanted to see how she was going to handle an ex-fiancé who was determined to fight his way back into her good books.
The worst of it was, Harper appeared to have succeeded. Though Clay did his best not to look too often in their direction he had noted Caroline was not only wearing her big solitaire again, but Harper was sitting close beside her, in the company of both sets of smiling parents. As to be expected theirs was the best table set under the trees near the playing fountain.
Last night he had escorted Caroline back to Dougherty’s pub where she was staying. He had asked if she were okay, then when she said she was, he said a quiet good-night watching her walk up the stairs to the guest bedrooms. He had longed to stay. To offer a few words of comfort—he had even wanted to rush into some good advice—but he could see how upset and vulnerable she was. The torn skirt of her
beautiful dress and the ripped shoulder strap made him so angry he felt like going back outside to find Harper and give him the thrashing he deserved.
Caroline wouldn’t thank him for that. She wanted the incident kept as quiet as possible. It was quite a miracle they had made it back to the pub without anyone paying them any particular attention. Caroline had tucked the torn shoulder strap into her bodice and her skirt was long and swishy concealing the rent. Such damage spoke for itself.
Harper had attacked her. Attacked the young woman he professed to love—his wife-to-be! Child, and man, Harper was a born bully. And what was it about anyway? Obviously Harper had wanted to make love to her—just as obviously she had said no. Any man in his right mind would have accepted it. Harper, alcohol driven, had nevertheless revealed the inner man. He had forced her only in this case he had underestimated his fiancée’s fighting qualities. A woman at bay, even a pocket-sized one, could inflict damage if she were able to overcome her fear and get in a telling kick where it hurt most.
Clay felt proud of her. Like a big brother. Best to think of it like that. After all she’d used to wave to him from when she was a toddler until she was about six. And what a beautiful little girl she had been.
For another two hours he had sat across the street from the pub keeping an eye on the entrance just in case Harper took it into his mind to try to get Caroline alone again. He hadn’t showed, though Clay was struck by the fact at one point in the night he had seen Harper in the distance having what looked like a serious disagreement with his cousin, Natasha. Impossible to miss her tall, willowy figure and the light was shining on her violet dress. Natasha might have been his cousin, but she wanted no part of Clay. On the other hand, why had Natasha been engaged in a violent argument with Harper? She couldn’t have been acting on Caroline’s behalf. Clay had gained the strong impression during the course of the afternoon and evening Caroline and Natasha weren’t at all friendly. Yet a strong link existed between Natasha and Harper. How else could both of them have been filled with such anger? Clay had to admit he found that troubling.
Surrounded by ‘family’ Carrie was feeling hemmed in. She was tormented by her complex emotions. Had she really agreed to give Scott a second chance? She didn’t think so, yet why was she seated at this table as if nothing had happened? Her mother had given her a quick, surprised glance after registering the diamond solitaire was back on her finger. Alicia didn’t say anything but she patted Carrie’s arm gently. Two lovers had had a fight and made up. It was much easier not to rock the boat. Alicia was in excellent spirits as was her father.
Why am I doing this? Carrie wondered. Was she in such desperate need of her father’s approval? The deep reserve of his lifelong manner with her, the distancing, the lack of response, had caused her much grief and pain. She was sure that was why her mother had sent her away to boarding school early. Her mother gave her plenty of love and affection, cared for her as a mother should, but it was never enough. Her mother told her pretty much daily, ‘I love you.’ Her father—and she had racked her memory—had never said it. Surely that was wrong, wrong, wrong! Instead of disturbing her less, it disturbed her more and more as she grew older. It suddenly occurred to her, before her engagement to Scott Harper her existence hadn’t had much significance for her father. Now with blinding clarity she saw that her father’s approval rated higher than Scott’s love.
That was immensely disturbing.
Across the green parkland she glimpsed Clay Cunningham seated at a table with the very attractive McFadden sisters, Jade and Mia. They were really sweet girls. The whole family was nice. The sisters sat on either side of him looking thrilled to be there. Several other young people she knew, including the girls’ younger brother Aidan, made up the number at the table. If Clay Cunningham was desperate to find himself a bride he had arrived in town at the optimum time. It would be another year before the town saw such a gathering. As she expected, given Clay Cunningham was such a stunning man, both sisters were flushed with excitement as was Susie Peterson of the big blue eyes sitting opposite him. Susie leaned across the table to say something to him, which made them all laugh.
Carrie almost laughed herself. No need to help him out with his Bush Bachelor advertisement. He actually had three eligible young women hanging on his every word. If he were serious about finding a bride he’d better make the most of this glorious opportunity. After today they would all go their separate ways; home to pastoral properties all over the vast State. Distance was a big factor in the difficulties confronting those wanting to form meaningful relationships. Distance and back breaking sunup to sundown hard work that left precious little time for play.
After lunch Carrie helped out with the children’s races. Even if she said so herself she had a talent with kids. They always welcomed her around. Afterwards she took a turn leading the little ones mounted on Shetland ponies around the sandy oval, the ponies perfectly behaved if not the kids. It was good to be able to make her escape from the ‘family.’ Though she had tried her hardest she’d found lunchtime oppressive. Once she had caught Scott’s mother, Thea, looking at her with an odd expression in her eyes. A kind of what’s-going-on-here? Mrs Harper’s enmity would be deadly if she decided to go ahead and call off the engagement.
To her surprise she saw Clay Cunningham take a turn at leading around the older kids in saddlelike rigs aboard the camels. These domesticated camels came from a Far West property. Camels were such intelligent animals, Carrie thought. Not indigenous to the continent, they had been brought to Australia along with their Afghan handlers in the early days of settlement. Camels had been used on the ill-fated Burke and Wills expedition, by other explorers, miners, telegraph line builders, surveyors, station owners, tradesmen of all kinds. Camels had been the beasts of burden all over the Outback. Now they numbered around three hundred thousand, the healthiest camels on the planet. To Carrie’s mind their heavy, long lashed eyelids gave them a benign look but she knew in the wild they could be dangerous.
There was no danger today. The camels couldn’t have been more docile and obliging. They didn’t even mind the excited little sidekicks they were getting from the children, predictably the boys, to spur them on. She was reminded how Scott had used his whip on Sassafras when Clay Cunningham had ‘talked’ his horse home.
She had a breather from Scott. He had gone off with her father to try their hand at flying the big, wonderfully painted and decorated kites too difficult for youngsters to handle. She could see one swooping up and up in the sky. It really had been a flawless day.
Aidan McFadden approached her, giving her a big smile. ‘I’ll take over from you now, Carrie. You must feel like a rest from this lot?’
‘I sure do.’ Carrie returned the smile. ‘A cold drink will go down well. Thanks, Aidan. It’s been a great weekend, hasn’t it?’
‘As far as I’m concerned the new guy Clay Cunningham put on the best show. Boy can he ride!’ Aidan’s open expression registered admiration. ‘Do you think he’d mind if I took a look at the old homestead sometime? I was going to ask him. He sat at our table for lunch. He’s a nice, easygoing guy. Do you really think he will stay? I hope he will. Only old Angus Cunningham left Jimboorie in a woeful state.’
‘He had a breakdown after his wife died,’ Carrie said. ‘Then his daughter left him. He was a sad, sad man. Clay told me he wants to stay, Aidan. Why don’t you simply ask him if you can visit sometime? Unless he’s disappeared.’ She glanced around the area.
‘No, he’s still around.’ Aidan grinned. ‘He can’t shake Jade and Mia. Is it true he’s looking for a wife? Or is that a bit of a joke? We didn’t like to ask him but I can tell you the girls want him for themselves.’
‘He can only pick one.’ Carrie smiled back, but she felt a prick of something very much like misery.
‘Then it’s Jade!’ Aidan called hopefully after her.
Clay Cunningham had won the McFaddens over it seemed.
One of the committee ladies met he
r with a home-made lemonade in a tall frosted glass decorated with a sprig of mint. ‘Thank you so much, Carrie. You’re always such a help. The kids love you.’
‘I love them,’ Carrie answered truthfully, accepting the very welcome drink. ‘Where’s Mamma?’
‘Talking to Thea Harper the last time I saw her. The wedding’s not far off now. You’ll make the most beautiful bride,’ she gushed.
Carrie smiled but could not answer. Was it possible she was having the first of a sequence of panic attacks?
‘Hi, Caroline!’ a deep attractive male voice called. A voice she now thought she’d know anywhere.
She paused, turning her head. ‘Hello there, Clay.’
‘How are you today?’ He caught up to her, the both of them moving spontaneously towards an empty park bench.
‘Very unsettled,’ she admitted, sinking gratefully onto the timber seat.
‘I couldn’t help noticing Harper is forgiven.’ He glanced down at her slender, polished fingers. The diamond solitaire was blazing away in a chink of sunlight.
‘Everyone is just so happy we’re engaged,’ she said.
He knit his mahogany brows. ‘Everyone but you.’
She risked a direct glance into his face, bewilderment surging into her voice. ‘I used to be happy. Or I thought I was. Maybe I was just basking in everyone’s approval.’
‘What does that mean exactly?’ The question was intense, far from light.
‘God you know all about approval and the lack of it, Clay,’ she said raggedly. ‘I can’t talk about it. It’s disloyal to my family.’
‘What about Harper?’ he asked in a taut low voice. ‘Hell, Caroline, you’re not a schoolgirl. You’re a woman. What are you afraid of? You weren’t afraid last night. You were astonishingly gutsy. What’s happened to change that?’