The Socialite and the Cattle King

by Lindsay Armstrong

  ‘I haven’t.’

  ‘Then you should.’

  ‘No.’ He put his mug down on a side table. ‘And I need to tell you why.’

  ‘Shouldn’t you be telling her?’

  ‘I have. Holly, will you just listen to me?’ he said with a bleak sort of weariness that was quite uncharacteristic.

  ‘Sorry,’ she said on a breath of surprise. ‘I’m sorry.’

  He beat a little tattoo on the arm of his chair with his fingers. ‘This is not generally known outside the family, but my father had a very violent temper.’

  Her lips parted. ‘I wondered—I mean, I sensed there was something about your father…’ She couldn’t go on.

  ‘You were right. I hated him. I hit him once when he and my mother were arguing. She, and I, were usually the ones he took his temper out on. I can’t say she was blameless.’ He stopped and sighed. ‘She should have got out, but it was as if there was this life-long feud going on between them that neither of them could let go of.’

  ‘Why you, though?’ Holly whispered. ‘I mean you, as opposed to your brother and sister?’

  He shrugged. ‘Oldest son—maybe he saw me as a threat. I don’t know. I do know he never stopped putting me down and I swore that when I took over I would never look back.

  ‘I haven’t. Things are in far better shape than they ever were when he was at the helm. But I guess I have to credit him with my interest in animals.’

  Holly blinked. ‘How so?’

  ‘It was a world I could retreat into when things got impossible—my dogs, my horse and more and more anything on four legs. But the real irony is, much as I hated him, I’m not so unlike him.’

  Holly stared at him, struck speechless.

  ‘I also have a temper at times. I also got into a relationship that was—explosive.’

  ‘Natasha,’ Holly breathed, her eyes huge.

  He nodded and rubbed his jaw. ‘Once the first gloss wore off, we argued over the little things, we fought over the big things. We drove each other crazy, but she didn’t see it that way. Every grand reunion we had seemed to reassure her that while it might be tempestuous between us—perhaps that even added a little spice to it for her—it was going to endure.

  ‘I don’t think she had any idea that I was really alarmed at the way I felt at times. I couldn’t tell her. I couldn’t put it into words, but I knew I had to get out. Whereas she thought that the fact we were so good in bed was going to compensate for the rest of it. But I could see myself looking down a tunnel at something that closely resembled my parents’ marriage.’

  ‘So—so you walked away?’

  ‘Yes, I walked away. I broke it off. I told her—All I told her was that I wasn’t cut out for marriage; I was a loner.’ He shook his head. ‘It was what I preferred to believe rather than admit the truth to myself. I hated the thought that there was any way I could resemble my father. Now, looking back, I can see it was always there. That’s why I prided myself on being on the outside in my affairs with women, never deeply, crucially involved. Until Nat managed to break through.’

  Holly put a hand to her mouth. ‘Have you told her now?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What happened?’

  ‘She didn’t believe me at first, but I had some other insights that I tried to explain. Such as—’ he paused ‘—how egos get involved in these matters. How we were two naturally competitive people with a penchant for getting our own way, and we always would be. But that real hole in the gut and the heart, that sense of loss for someone who is not there for you, hadn’t touched us. Not that kind of love.’

  He got up and walked over to the windows.

  Holly stared at his back and the lines of tension in his body.

  ‘She understood that?’ she queried huskily.

  ‘I don’t know. It made her stop and think. But it clarified things for me. We were never right for each other.’ He said it sombrely but intensely.

  ‘How can you be sure?’

  He turned at last. ‘Because that hole in the gut and heart slammed into me when I got your note.’

  Holly’s mouth fell open.

  ‘That sense of loss and love almost crippled me, because I knew you were right to go away from me.’

  ‘Brett,’ Holly whispered. ‘In light of all this, and the fact that you did ask me to marry you…’

  ‘Let me finish,’ he broke in. ‘I asked you to marry me out of respect, affection, admiration—the way you seemed to fit into my life. But I told myself it wasn’t a grand passion. I told myself I was safe from that, you were safe from that. Now I know I was wrong.

  ‘I feel more passionate about you than I’ve ever felt in my life. It wasn’t until you left I realized I’d got my grand passions mixed up. But the problem is that whilst how we are—you and I—is different from anything that went before, I keep wondering if my father will come out somehow and that scares me. Scares me far more than it did with Nat.’

  She found it hard to speak as her heart beat heavily somewhere up near her throat. ‘What—what are you saying?’ she asked jaggedly.

  His shoulders slumped and he took an uneven breath. Then he said harshly, ‘It’s best if we say goodbye now, but I had to explain.’

  Holly stumbled to her feet with her thoughts flying in all directions. Then, out of nowhere, her epiphany from the plane crash came back to her: her conviction that she should really put her past behind her and live for the future. Plus the belief that had come to her this morning—that this man meant more than anything in the world to her.

  She clenched her fists. ‘Brett, she was the wrong one for you. Just as your parents were probably wrong for each other. But you’ve dug into your psyche and exposed the roots of it all—that means you can cope with it. It also means you could never be a carbon copy of your father. Anyway, you aren’t. I know.’

  ‘Holly.’ He walked over to her and touched his fingers lightly to her face. ‘You’re very sweet, but you don’t know what can happen—although you should have an inkling of it. I did lose my temper with you once, and frightened you into the bargain.’

  Holly looked backwards in her mind’s eye and shrugged. ‘It wasn’t at me, in the first place. It was at some driver who got his licence out of a cornflake packet. And you made amends almost immediately. Right from then you’ve always protected me,’ she said tremulously.

  He looked away from her and a nerve beat in his jaw.

  ‘And there’s something I do know,’ she continued barely audibly. ‘I’d trust you with my life, Brett Wyndham. I believe in you with all my heart. You can walk away from me now, but I’ll always believe in you, and I’ll always carry you in my heart.’ Tears slid down her cheeks but she didn’t notice them.

  He hesitated, then brushed her cheeks with his thumbs. ‘It’ll go; it’ll pass.’

  ‘No, it won’t.’

  ‘We haven’t known each other that long.’

  ‘That was my line,’ she said huskily, and smiled faintly through her tears. ‘Yours was, “it’s how you get to know people that matters”.’

  ‘Holly,’ he said on a tortured breath, then swept her into his arms. He held her closely, not speaking, and little by little she began to feel the terrible tension in him receding. He said, ‘I had to warn you.’

  ‘I’m glad you did because I always knew there was something buried really deep within you that I didn’t understand. Now we both know we can cope with it together.’ She hesitated. Although it was no longer a primary concern for her, she had some sympathy and had to ask the question: ‘How is Natasha?’

  ‘She’s decided to open a branch of her agency in London. She told me it was over for her, whatever the rights and the wrongs of it were.’ He smiled slightly. ‘Whatever else, she’s not one to wallow.’

  Holly rested against him and sniffed.

  He tilted her chin so he could look into her eyes. ‘Tears? For Nat?’ he queried.

  Holly considered denying it, but found she could
n’t. ‘I’ve held some not altogether complimentary opinions of Natasha Hewson,’ she confessed. ‘But I’d like to wish her well.’

  ‘Me too,’ he murmured. ‘You know, you don’t have to worry about her—in any other context.’

  Holly nodded. ‘I’ve got over that. It was silly to go through life waiting for it to happen again. Anyway, compared to losing you, it just seemed to fade away.’

  ‘Do you really mean that?’

  She looked deep into his eyes and breathed. ‘Yes.’

  ‘Sure?’ A glint of humour suddenly lurked in his dark eyes and she felt her heart starting to beat faster.

  ‘Yes. Why?’

  ‘You were the one who accused me of being thoroughly bad-minded. Like a leopard,’ he added for complete clarification.

  ‘Ah.’ She controlled the smile that wanted to curve her lips. ‘You were the one who kept making verbal passes at me, not to mention mentally undressing me in the most awkward circumstances!’

  ‘In that respect, I have to warn you I’m unlikely to change my spots—and definitely not in the immediate future,’ he told her gravely.

  She relented and laughed softly. ‘I actually like the sound of that. And there’s something I can bring to it that’ll be unique for us.’

  He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

  ‘A bed.’ Her eyes danced. ‘A real bed. Not a river bed. No sand, no plastic V-sheet or cardboard bedding, no wild cattle to frighten the life out of me…’

  He stopped her quite simply by kissing her. Then he lifted his head and looked into her eyes. ‘Since you were the one to bring it up, could you lead me to it before I expire with desire?’

  She took his hand. ‘Come.’

  It was not only a bed, it was a double bed, with a beautiful silk coverlet in the colours of the sea and sky on a clear day. Beneath the cover, the linen was starched and white.

  ‘This is almost too much luxury,’ he remarked as he pulled the cover down and laid her on the sheets.

  ‘I know. Despite the sand and everything, I have some wonderful memories of a certain lagoon and Tommy’s Hut, as well as—’

  ‘I bought it,’ he interrupted.

  ‘As well as—You what?’ Holly sat up, wide-eyed and incredulous.

  ‘I bought the station.’

  ‘Brett,’ she breathed. ‘Why?’

  ‘Why do you think?’ He looked down at her. ‘Because of its memories of us, and you.’

  ‘I—I…’ There were tears in her eyes as she slipped her arms around his neck. ‘I had no idea you were so romantic.’

  ‘Neither did I. Would you like it as a wedding present?’

  ‘I—I’m speechless. Are you serious?’

  He nodded and kissed her. He laid her back against the sheets again and leant over her. ‘We can go back on our anniversaries.’

  ‘That would be lovely; thank you,’ she whispered. ‘Oh, Brett, I don’t know what more to say.’

  He smiled into her eyes and started to unzip her track-suit top. ‘We don’t have to say anything. I seem to recall it working pretty well for us like that.’

  ‘So do I. OK; my lips are sealed…’

  But of course they weren’t, as he took his time about undressing her. Then, when they were naked and celebrating each other’s bodies, he took her to the edge several times, only to retreat and sculpt her breasts and hips with his lips and hands. She had to open her lips, not only to kiss him and his body, but to tell him that—much as she’d loved their love-making in Tommy’s Hut—the freedom from clothes and the comfort they were experiencing now were adding a dimension to it that was mind-blowing; it drew a joyous response from her.

  She moved in a way that obviously tantalized him. She grew bolder and touched him in a way that drew a growling little response from him.

  Desire snaked through her from head to toe, but at times she felt as light as air and more wonderful than she’d ever felt in her life.

  Then the rhythm changed and what he did to her was so intense, she was wracked with pleasure and begging for the only release she wanted.

  ‘Now?’ he breathed.

  ‘Please, now,’ she gasped, and they moved on together as one until he brought her to the shuddering peak of sensation he shared.

  She was breathless and speechless as those waves of climax subsided slowly and they clung to each other. Finally they were still and he loosened his arms around her.

  She took his hand and put it against her cheek. ‘I love you,’ she said huskily.

  ‘I love you,’ he answered. ‘I always will.’

  Later, when they were snuggled up together on the sofa sipping champagne and watching the afternoon sky clear up, she said rather ruefully, ‘How is my mother? Did you see her or speak to her on the phone?’

  ‘I went to see her. We have one thing in common, your mother and I.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘We’d both probably die for you.’

  ‘You don’t have to do that, either of you.’ Holly wiped a couple of tears from her eyes. ‘Just be friends.’

  ‘We will. If you can convince her you’re happy. You see, she told me that, if I hurt you again, I’d have her to contend with.’

  Holly gasped. ‘I didn’t know she knew. She never said a word.’

  ‘I actually always admired your mother,’ he informed her.

  Holly chuckled, then was struck by a thought. ‘How did the wedding go?’ she asked.

  ‘The wedding was very nice—had I been in the mood to appreciate it.’ He looked rueful.

  ‘You…?’ She hesitated.

  ‘I felt like cutting my throat.’ He played with a strand of her hair. ‘But there was a positive note. Sue met someone at the wedding. She’s very taken with him, and I get the feeling he could be the right one for her. Uh, talking of weddings…?’

  ‘Yes. Let’s,’ Holly said contentedly, but hid the sudden sparkle of mischief in her eyes. ‘I’m not into balls and barbecues, but I did think perhaps we could hire an island in the South Pacific? We’d need one with accommodation for, say, at least a hundred guests—and we could have fire walkers and luaus—’

  ‘There’s not much difference,’ he broke in ominously, ‘Between a beach barbecue and a luau.’

  ‘Well, there is. Roast suckling-pigs on spits. We could all wear leis and dance those fabulous Polynesian dances to drums.’

  ‘Holly, stop!’ he commanded.

  But she’d stopped anyway, because she couldn’t stop laughing. ‘If you could see your face,’ she teased. ‘Look, I’d be happy to marry you in a mud hut with a herd of giraffe as guests.’

  He kissed her. ‘You’re a witch, you know. But we won’t go to those lengths. Something small and simple?’

  ‘Done! When?’

  ‘A month from today?’

  She looked at him innocently. ‘Why do we have to wait so long?’

  ‘Just in case you want to change your mind.’

  ‘Brett.’ All laughter fled. ‘I won’t,’ she promised. ‘I won’t.’

  ‘Darling,’ Sylvia said a month later, ‘Are you very sure about this?’

  ‘Mum.’ Holly put her bouquet down and pulled her mother to sit down beside her on her bed.

  Sylvia looked beautiful in a cornflower-blue silk suit with a cartwheel hat and lilies of the valley pinned to her bodice.

  Holly, on the other hand, was all in white, an exquisite lace dress over a taffeta slip with a heart-shaped bodice, long-sleeves and slim skirt.

  Her hair was loose, although suggestions had been made that it should be put up or pulled back—suggestions she declined with a secret little smile in her eyes.

  Her full veil fell from a sparkling coronet and her bouquet was made up of six just-unfurled roses, each a different subtle colour from cream through to salmon.

  ‘Mum,’ she said again. ‘I know you’re—I know you’ve got reservations about Brett. But you did send him to me because, you told me, you thought only I could decide wha
t to do.’

  ‘I know. And I did think that; I still do.’ Sylvia heaved a sigh. ‘It’s just that sometimes people don’t change, however much they want to.’

  ‘That was what Brett was afraid of,’ Holly said quietly. ‘And he may never have, if he didn’t have someone who really believed in him as I do. And you know what Dad always used to say?’ Holly went on. ‘If you really believe in something, you have to go for it, otherwise you’re denying that belief.’

  ‘That’s true. Well, my darling, I hope you’ll be as happy as I was with your father, even though we were like chalk and cheese,’ Sylvia said.

  They both laughed. ‘I will, I will.’ Holly kissed her mother.

  The wedding was small but very beautiful.

  The homestead without walls at Haywire was decorated with greenery and magnificent flowers, all flown in that morning along with the bouquets.

  A small altar had been contrived at the library desk, where Holly had made notes on her first visit to Haywire, and a red carpet led to it.

  A feast was laid out on tables covered in heirloom damask cloths that Sue had inherited from her grandmother; each table was decorated with orchids in silver pots.

  Mark and Aria were there, looking bronzed and exuberant after their prolonged and exotic honeymoon. Sue Murray was there with her new man, looking like a new person.

  Glenn Shepherd was there, quite resigned to the fact that he’d lost the Brett Wyndham interview, as well as his travel writer extraordinaire, although the magazine would be the first to break the news of the zoo. He and Holly had also discussed the possibility of her freelancing for the magazine.

  Sarah was still in residence, so she was there as well as well as Kane, the station foreman, and some of the staff from the other stations. And there were friends of both Holly and Brett as well as Sylvia, of course.

  Even Bella had been invited, and she wore a silver horseshoe attached to her collar.

  There was a covey of small planes on the airstrip and they’d stay there for the night.

  The ceremony itself was short but moving—mainly, as many noted after the event, because of the palpable emotion between the bride and groom.