by Margaret Way
Aunt Leonie and her family would be arriving this morning. Other relatives had already arrived. They were house guests in a home that had so many bedrooms it could have been a small hotel. It was going to be one “splendid do!” said one of his father’s guests, a lovely man, called Mr Stewart, who was a famous politician. He was so looking forward to the two of them having a talk. Mr Stewart had promised. Of course he had already confided to Mr Stewart he wanted to be a politician too. In fact, Prime Minister of Australia was his long-term goal.
“So you’ve made up your mind?” Mr Stewart had asked with such kindness and keen interest in his face.
“Yes, sir.”
“Then you have a goal, Julian?”
“Yes, I do, sir. I want to live a life that has meaning.”
For a moment Mr Stewart looked startled, then he stared right into the small boy’s eyes, blue like a gas flame. Carlisle eyes. “There’s wisdom deep inside you, Julian. We need men and women of wisdom. Stick with your goal.”
“I will, sir.” Jules was thrilled by Mr Stewart’s words of encouragement. Mr Stewart was a great man.
“And I’ll be following your progress closely.” Mr Stewart had clasped his shoulder as if he meant to be a part of his life. When they had first met, Mrs Stewart had bent to kiss his face. She was a lovely lady with soft, gentle, haunted eyes that made him want to comfort her. He knew now just being an adult there could be sad, scary times. He had already seen most people’s lives weren’t without sadness. His mother had been sad for a long time. Yet she had always said, “We have to find a quiet place to nurture the spirit, Jules. Try our hardest to be positive.”
He thought so too. What he didn’t realise was it was quite an insight for a boy of seven going on eight. Jules had in fact made a profound impact on everybody. Aunt Olivia had hugged him and hugged him, crooning, “Julian, Julian,” over and over, cradling his head. When she had kissed him there were tears in her eyes. Everyone seemed to really like him. And he liked them. It gave him a wonderful feeling, like opening a window on the magical power of belonging. It was going to be the best Christmas of his life. He hoped everyone would sing in church. He had been practising his carols. He knew they were all going to the village church later on in the morning. He believed people should pray. There was no need to bottle up all one’s troubles. Tell God and He would listen. Hadn’t He listened to him?
* * *
Christmas Day went off splendidly. Cate and Olivia had consulted with Cook to come up with a mouth-watering menu. There were entrées and main courses. Roast turkey and roast goose. Jules had never tried that one before, but he liked it. Plenty of yummy desserts, including little meringue snowmen, jolly little fellows, their hats made out of black decorating icing, black button eyes, an upturned red mouth and down the front of the snowman’s chest, a red scarf. Cook had made them especially for the children. They were a big hit. There was Christmas pudding, of course, that was brought flaming to the table. It was all so different from Christmas at home where the sun blazed and everyone ate lots of seafood, prawns, crabs with lovely, fresh white meat, lobster and large platters of different salads. Afterwards, when the meal settled they all headed off for the beach and a cooling swim.
There was a lovely warmth around the gleaming dining-room table with its decorative swag running its full length of the centre. The table was so long there was plenty of room for everyone to spread out. The joy of it all had caught Jules a bit by surprise. His father’s family and his father’s extended family had welcomed him and his mother, tucking them neatly and lovingly into the fold. It seemed to him that was what Christmas was all about.
It was Mr Stewart who put word to it. “‘Remembrance, like a candle, burns brightest at Christmastime.’”
Everyone had clapped and Mr Stewart had said with a laugh, “I can’t take the credit. That lies with a Mr Charles Dickens.”
* * *
Much later that night, when the entire household had long since retired, Catrina and Ashe lay together in his great warm bed, their bodies spooned into one another. Ashe had his arms around the woman he loved, the woman he had lost, the woman he had regained, the mother of his son. He could feel every bone in her slender body; his hand cupped her small, perfect breast like a creamy-white rosebud unfurled. He adored her.
“What are you thinking?” he murmured into her ear.
“How happy I am.” She gave a voluptuous sigh, turning on her back to face him, looking up into his bluer than blue eyes. “Safe, secure, loved. As a family we’re united. What more could I want?”
He bent and languidly, but very sensually, kissed her mouth. “I can’t make Jules into a little Pom.”
They both laughed. Recognition of that fact had set him back, but he was admiring of his son’s firm mindset even at age seven. Julian was having a wonderful time but it was clear after the long vacation was over in early February he wanted to go home.
Home was Australia. Ashe had the definite notion his son thought he, as his father, would take charge of the whole situation and find a solution.
“He wants to go home, Ashe,” Cate said, as if he needed any reminder. “He’s loving it here, but he calls Australia home. So do I.” She placed her hands against his chest, her tapering fingers tangling in his light chest hair.
“So it’s up to me.” It wasn’t a question.
“Darling, I’m not saying that. I’m—”
“You are.” He kissed her again. “You’re so beautiful. Naked you look like a mermaid with your green eyes and long, golden hair. Rafe is thrilled out of his mind. He told me over and over he thinks Jules is an amazing little fellow. So does dear Helena. What makes Rafe happy makes Helena happy. They’re in your life now, my love.”
“I know and I feel blessed.” Cate meant it. “Everyone has been so beautiful to me.”
“That’s because you’re beautiful.” He smoothed her tumbled hair from her forehead, pressing her back into the pillows. “Julian told me he loves to draw you because you’re so beautiful.”
Tears swam into Cate’s eyes. Jules had told her that too.
“And you’re going to make an exquisite bride,” said Jules’ father. The two of them had agreed on an April wedding at Radclyffe Hall. Beyond that, they were still trying to work out what was best for them as a family. Wherever Ashe was, Cate would go. Ashe was her world. Only he wasn’t her entire world. There was their son. Many of her hopes could well be sunk, but she realised neither of them was prepared to destabilise
Jules. After all, he was a young man with big plans.
“How mysterious is the way destiny works.” Ashe kissed her open mouth, breathing in her sweet breath. “I intend to have a word with Liv and Bram in the morning,” he said, as though he had finally reached a mulled-over decision.
“What about?” Cate’s green eyes, which had been shut in rapture, snapped open.
“We’re looking for a solution, aren’t we? We could have one if Liv and Bram agree.”
Cate sat up in bed, not bothering to pull the sheet over her naked body. Ashe knew every inch of her. “You have a plan?”
“Do I?” He lay back, pulling her down over the top of him. One arm locked around her back. “Well, it’s a practical solution until Jules is much older and better able perhaps to make up his mind. I’m going to offer the house and the running of the estate to Liv and Bram. They absolutely love it here—always have—and Peter can go to the excellent village school until he’s ready to be sent to whatever school they choose. They will act as custodians. I want nothing from them. They will live rent free. Bram will get paid as the manager of the estate. It’s a suggestion I’m going to put to them.”
Cate was too close to tears to speak. “You mean you’re prepared to come and live in Australia?” she asked, as if a great blessing had descended on her. “But what about all you have here, to say nothing of your business interests?”
“My darling Cate, don’t worry. Clever businesswoman that you are, you know
business can be conducted from virtually anywhere. Besides, I like Australia. I like the people. You and Julian especially. Sydney is a beautiful and liveable city. I can’t say I won’t have to make a lot of trips around the globe. I will. I need to oversee my interests, which I remind you will become yours. I want you on board, not only as my wife, but as my business partner. Your input would be much appreciated.”
She felt such a degree of relief she nearly shouted aloud with joy. “I don’t know what to say, Ashe.”
“Say, what a wonderful solution.” He afforded her his beautiful smile.
“It’s a marvellous solution, providing you’re absolutely sure?”
“I’m absolutely sure I want you and our son in my life. Since Julian is dead set on being Prime Minister of Australia, that is where we must reside.”
It made wonderful sense. “I’m fine with that. But aren’t you taking Olivia’s and Bram’s falling in with the plan a little bit for granted?”
“Not really. This is the kind of life they both want. I think they’ll grab the opportunity with both hands. This house is big enough to shelter us all. It may turn out that Julian will renounce the baronetcy after I’m gone. Who knows? That’s a decision he will have to make in the future. Peter may well become the sixth Baron Wyndham. Meanwhile I intend to stick around for a very long time.”
“And we may well have more children,” Cate pointed out, a brilliant light in her eyes.
“You’re planning on more children, then?” Ashe asked in a low, provocative voice.
“Well, we can try!” Cate laughed, her hand moving with great sensuous delight down over his superb body. “I love you. Love you. Love you,” she cried. “My darling, my dearest, Ashe. I plan on telling you every day of our lives.”
“And I’ll be holding you to that!” Ashe promised. “Do you know I realise now, no matter past desolations, I’ve lived with the possibility of one day seeing you again,” he admitted with wonderment.
“I did too.” Cate sighed blissfully, thinking the great joys of the present were folding away all the unhappiness of the past. “What if we had missed one another?”
A hush fell over them at the thought. “We haven’t. Fate has smiled on us.” Ashe leaned down to kiss her, his love flowing like a benediction. “It’s given us back our one true soul mate.”
“And our son.” Cate felt doubly blessed.
“I see a tiny bit of me in there?” He stared into her eyes, capturing his own image.
“A lot!’
“My father too,” Ashe mused. “The way Julian talks it’s as though my father has come alive.”
“My father has come alive for me.” Tears caught in Cate’s eyes and throat. “He is such a fine man. He didn’t know about me. Isn’t that terrible?”
“Terrible indeed,” Ashe confirmed with only the mildest irony.
“My mother and my aunt made sure of that. I wonder if Stella ever feels shame for the things she’s done?”
“I’d be a tad astonished if she did,” Ashe said dryly. “Stella obviously has the capacity for blotting away guilt and shame. Some people are like that. They can never admit to wrongdoing. It’s always somebody else’s fault if things turn out badly.”
“The textbook narcissist?” Cate suggested quietly. “She was happy when there were only the three of us. She does love Jules.”
“Until he rebelled,” Ashe pointed out firmly. “No rebelling allowed. You were okay as long as you remained with no permanent partner in your life. Stella might have had to go then. She must have feared that.”
“Well, now she’s making a life of her own.” Cate sighed. “I think Gerald deserves more. Or at least a warning. But the great thing is I have all of my men in my life. It’s the way it was supposed to have happened. I suppose even destiny can sometimes get things wrong.”
“Be grateful this time it’s got it right!” Ashe said emphatically. “Are we, or are we not, the perfect match?”
Cate touched her fingers gently to his mouth. “You get your answer when you’ve made love to me again.”
* * *
Love was a revelation. It was also a miracle when all the forces of the universe conspired to bring two people together.
These forces had various names. Fate, Destiny, Chance. Call it what you will.
* * * * *
Keep reading for an excerpt of The Cowboy Comes Home by Patricia Thayer!
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CHAPTER ONE
WILLIE NELSON’S “On the Road Again” poured out of the open windows of Johnny Jameson’s truck as he drove along the country road. It was January in Texas, but he was energized by the cold air, knowing the temperature would rise to triple digits soon enough come spring. No matter what the weather, he’d much rather be outside than cooped up indoors.
He always liked to keep on the move. Never felt the need to stay at any one place too long. More times than he could count, he had lived out of his vehicle.
He’d been lucky lately. The jobs came to him, and he could pick and choose what he wanted to take on. That was the reason he was coming to Larkville. He’d been intrigued when he’d heard the job description. Also because Clay Calhoun and his prize quarter horses were legendary in Texas. But before he got too excited, he wanted to assess the situation before he made any promises to the man, or to the job. If there still was a job, since the offer had been made months ago.
He’d been delayed by a stubborn colt, but after he’d finished training it, the thoroughbred was worth what the owner had paid. When he’d called Calhoun to let him know he’d be delayed with previous commitments, he’d ended up talking to Clay’s son Holt, who’d explained that his father was ill, but assured him that the job would be there whenever he arrived at the ranch. Johnny had said to expect him around the first of the year.
As it turned out it was the first of the year, and he was finally headed for the Double Bar C Ranch. He glanced in the rearview mirror at his trailer, and his precious cargo, Risky Business, his three-year-old roan stallion.
His attention focused back ahead and on the southeast Texas landscape of rolling hills and pastures that had the yellow hue of winter. He looked toward a group of bare trees and a cattle water trough nestled at the base. There was also a visitor, one beautiful black stallion. The animal reared up, fighting to get loose from his lead rope that seemed to be caught on something.
He glanced around to see if anyone was nearby. Not a soul. He pulled his truck to the side of the road and got out. After walking back to check his own horse, he headed toward the open pasture to hopefully save another.
* * *
Jess knew she was going to be blamed for this.
Since her brother Holt was away on personal business, her sister, Megan, was away at school and her brother Nate was in the army, she was the one family member around to handle Double Bar C emergencies. Even though she really wasn’t involved in the day-to-day running of the ranch—Holt was in charge of that—she knew finding Night Storm had to take top priority.
The bigger problem was, how do you find, much less bring back, a rogue stallion? No one but Clay Calhoun had ever been able to handle the valuable quarter horse. Now that Dad was gone, the question was what to do with Storm.
The ranch foreman, Wes Brogan, had decided to let the animal out to the fenced pasture, but before Wes was able
to transport Storm there, the horse broke away.
When she’d gotten the call early this morning, she immediately went to the barn, saddled up Goldie and rode out to find Storm. She’d been on a horse since she was a baby, so there wasn’t any problem keeping up with the ranch hands. To cover more ground, the crew took off in different directions of the vast Calhoun land and so Jess set off on her own.
The Double Bar C had been in the family for generations, and her father had worked hard so it would remain with the Calhouns for many more. Big Clay had loved his horses, especially this stallion, but there had been trouble since Storm had arrived at the ranch. The valuable horse had been mistreated in the past. Eventually Storm began to trust her father somewhat, but since Clay’s death a few months back, the horse’s behavior had gotten worse and no one had been able to handle him.
She sighed, feeling the bite of the January cold against her cheeks. She slowed her horse as they came to the rise and suddenly caught a spot of black. Taking out her binoculars, she saw the welcome sight.
“Hallelujah!” she cried out, seeing Storm. Then she looked again and saw a man holding on to his lead rope. She didn’t recognize him as one of the hands, then she spotted a truck and trailer alongside the road.
“Oh, no, you don’t. You’re not going to steal Double Bar C property.” She kicked her heels into the mare and they shot off.
* * *
Johnny had worked with the horse for close to thirty minutes and had made some headway. The animal was still in distress, but at least Johnny had gotten close enough to loop a rope around his neck so he could calm the animal.
And what a beauty he was. His glistening black coat looked well cared for, he thought as he kept the spirited stallion moving in a circle. He pulled the rope taut, knowing he would need an arena to truly work him.
The horse got more agitated when he heard a rider approach, but Johnny couldn’t take his attention from his task.