Jarrah patted his shoulder. “Relax, I’ve spent the last decade butting heads with the most ruthless, highly trained, and sleaziest corporate lawyers money can buy. I think I can read a washed-up grunt soldier.”
Great, just freaking great. Ryder groaned and dropped his chin onto his chest.
“Plus, Mum told us all last night when you two lovebirds snuck off to bed.” Maddie’s barbed-wire voice cut in from the kitchen door. “She figured you needed all the help you could get since the Stig seems to have your nuts tucked safely into her back pocket.” Maddie slid in beside him and leaned against one of the veranda’s posts. “Why the hell don’t you just tell her?”
And this is what Miss Abigail Marie Williams, elementary school teacher, petrolhead, sex maniac, and demonic angel had driven Ryder to—listening to advice from a womanizing millionaire lawyer whose cases lasted longer than his relationships and a grumpy cattle-station boss who hadn’t had anything remotely resembling a boyfriend since high school.
Ryder muttered a curse and shook his head. “Too soon.”
Christ, he’d almost blown it a week ago after finally convincing her to stay. The words had been skipping out his stupid damned mouth when the last shreds of his sanity had finally kicked in. What was the point of telling her when he still had no idea how he was going to make it work? The only thing he knew for sure was that he wasn’t letting her leave until she knew exactly how he felt about her. If she didn’t burst out laughing or jump on the next road train out of town, he’d figure out the rest later.
“You can’t just drop something like that on the poor girl while she’s packing her suitcase. If she feels the same way about you, you two nutbags are going to need some time to sort out what the hell you’re going to do about this clusterfuck.”
Ryder turned to Maddie to find there was no sneer, no sarcasm, no humor tainting her features. His middle sister was dead serious and genuinely concerned.
Maddie’s eyes widened as she reared back. “Jesus, I’m not that much of a bitch, am I?”
Jarrah nudged him and leaned in close. “As your legal representative I advise you not to answer.”
Maddie reached behind Ryder and punched Jarrah in the ribs before resuming her perch against the railing. “Look, the woman obviously cares about you. Christ, I’ve lost count of the number of times I’ve thrown up in my mouth watching her moon over you. If you tell her now, you’ve at least got some time to calm her down and convince her you’re not freaking insane.”
Jarrah cleared his throat. “If it wasn’t for the scarves, no one would think anything’s wrong with her. Hell, I only knew about her headaches after you told me. The woman’s got stainless-steel ovaries the size of watermelons, but she’s got to be scared out of her mind, bro. Maybe if she knew how you felt, she’d stop being such a hard-arse and let you take care of her.”
Ryder and Maddie stared at their brother.
Jarrah blew out a breath and ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, okay, maybe I should stick to law.”
Maddie muttered something about men before chuckling and nodding to the hat hanging from Ryder’s hand. “She’s going to be mighty pissed you bought her that.”
Ryder ran his finger around the brown kangaroo-leather belt encircling the brim. “I’m half expecting to find a roll of fifties tucked into my duffle to pay for my services.”
“That’d be for meals and accommodation, right?” Jarrah grinned. “I can’t imagine anything else that’d warrant that kind of cash.”
Despite wanting to slap the smug smile right off his brother’s cocky moosh, Ryder couldn’t prevent the smile spreading across his own face. If anyone paid for services rendered, it should be him. The woman was sexual C4 with a side of Semtex.
Maddie straightened and turned to him. “If she wants to pay you back for the hat, she could always use her magic hands to get bore three’s pump running. Mum stole her yesterday before I could get her to take a look at it.”
The only way Abi was paying Ryder back for the hat was if she used her magic hands on him. “You’re not helping.”
“Leave the poor woman alone, she’s on holiday.”
They all turned to find his mother stink-eyeing them through the open kitchen window.
Maddie huffed. “So you can get her to sort out all your homeschooling paperwork and lesson plans. Nice try, you old sneak.”
His mother chuckled and made her way onto the veranda. She wedged herself between Jarrah and Ryder and jutted her chin toward the 390-thousand-dollar crimson dot hurtling through the desert toward them. “Is that where my other three lazy, ungrateful, no-good children have escaped?”
Jarrah wrapped his arm around their mother and pulled her into a hug. “I haven’t figured out if they’re addicted to the adrenaline or they just like the idea of helping her destroy my pride and joy.”
His mother slapped Jarrah in the stomach before leaning into his hug. “Serves you right for buying such a stupid toy. I was hoping you’d have grown up and settled down by now.”
Jarrah shot a cocky grin at Ryder over their mother’s head. “Yeah, right. And become like this pathetic, lovestruck Neanderthal? No thanks. I’ll stick to being single, irresponsible, and happy a little while longer.”
His mother looked up at Ryder like he was a pathetic, lovestruck Neanderthal and shook her head. “I take it Ms. Abi hasn’t given in to your charms, fallen to her knees, and begged you to marry her yet?”
He ground his teeth and shifted his gaze back to the Vanquish closing in on them. “Just a matter of time. She’s only human.”
His mother slid out of Jarrah’s embrace and wrapped an arm around his waist. “She’s got a hell of a lot on her plate, give her some time.”
Time…the one thing he didn’t have. He pulled his mother close and kissed the top of her head. “Two weeks enough?”
She chuckled, but the joy that normally radiated from her laughter was missing. “It doesn’t have to end in a couple of weeks.”
A thick silence fell over the veranda as his mother’s words hung in the air. No matter how many scenarios he ran through, no matter how many variables he plugged into the equation, it always came down to the same two solutions. Either he kissed Abi good-bye and got on with his life, or he packed up his duffle and chased after her.
He sucked in air and swallowed the fist that had lodged in his throat. “What about the muster?”
Maddie burst out laughing. “Jesus, what is it with you war heroes? You mosey back into town after saving the world, fly around a bit, spot a few cows, mend a few fences, and all of a sudden you’re freaking indispensable.” She backhanded his shoulder. “Relax, Sarge, we’ve been doing this a while, and your huge crippled arse would probably only get in the way.”
His sister had done a pretty good job of maintaining her reputation, but the moisture glistening in her eyes betrayed her.
His mother’s arm tightened around his waist as she nuzzled his shoulder and sighed. “Bring her back home when you can.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Tranquility flowed through Abi as she tipped up the brim of her brand-new, ridgy-didge, genuine Aussie stockwoman’s hat and took in the Wishing Tree’s ancient majesty.
Something so big and vibrant had no right thriving in this desolate hell when the only other things clinging to life were the desiccated weeds wedged between the rocks and the ants skittering across the burning crimson sand. But here it stood, huge, proud, and magnificent, while smiling down at her as if it was a mischievous grandparent trying to convince a child that anything was possible and dreams did come true.
Even as she steeled her resolve, the Wishing Tree’s power seeped through what remained of her skull and eased the pounding in her head that had grown louder with every step of the two-mile walk from Wingarra.
Like a spoiled diva who’d just realized she no longer held the number one spot in Abi’s thoughts, Doris had flounced off into her dressing room, slammed the door, and maxed out the volume on her iPhone. The
pain had gotten so bad Abi’d almost given in to her Aussie nursemaid’s endless badgering and cracked open the bottle of OxyContin her US nursemaid had guilted her into bringing. But she’d be damned before giving the stroppy little shit growing inside her head the satisfaction. There was no way in hell she was zoning out on any of this adventure. It was too precious, and it was vanishing faster and faster each day.
She hadn’t planned on making the journey back to the Wishing Tree so soon, but with each passing day, she’d grown more aware of the magnitude of what was coming to Wingarra. The dry-season muster wasn’t just a matter of calling in a few mates to help round up some cattle. It was a four-month marathon of endless days and backbreaking work that required the drafting in of professional labor and the coordination of a military invasion.
The small army of stockwomen and men Maddie had contracted to help with the work would start arriving tomorrow morning with their husbands, wives, kids, kelpies, and border collies in tow. Despite Ryder’s murderous glares, Maddie and Jarrah had gone to great lengths each night over dinner to explain just how crazy things were going to get. People and kids bustling everywhere, trucks, utes, caravans, and tents as far as the eye could see, mayhem from dawn to dusk, frazzled adults and screaming kids, but the more they tried scaring her the more she looked forward to living the spectacle of a genuine Aussie cattle muster. And no matter how hard she tried ignoring it she missed the crazy joy and challenge of wrangling kids.
She’d wanted to wait for the last possible moment before returning here to prevent the stubborn superhero who’d stolen her heart from figuring out what she’d planned, but if she’d waited any longer to sneak out here, she’d miss her only chance before the circus came to town. As it was, she’d only been able to escape the watchful eye of Sergeant Paranoid because her overprotective minder was under the impression she’d headed into town to pick up last-minute supplies with Naya, Jeddah, and Kira, and his equally overprotective mother had been led to believe she was helping Maddie and the Harper boys finish up work on the bunkhouses and corrals. She hadn’t flat-out lied, but that wasn’t going to stop either of them from kicking her butt if she didn’t get back to the Big House soon.
She glanced down at the mop of Jennifer Aniston’s hair clutched in her hand and smiled. Two weeks scrunched up at the bottom of her suitcase hadn’t done her hundred-and-fifty-dollar wig much good. But thanks to one Ryder Harper she’d never need it again. She’d finally realized that good men, the men who respected and cared for you, the men who made you truly happy, and who deserved your trust weren’t fooled by disguises because they saw the real person inside.
She unfolded the wig and studied the bejeweled cover of her notebook nestled within the synthetic honey-platinum locks. She didn’t need her bucket list anymore, either. All her dreams and wishes had been fulfilled. Her last days at Wingarra were just going to be the triple choc-fudge icing on a pretty freaking amazing cake.
She gritted her teeth and forced the visions of what lay in her future from her mind. Reality could go fuck herself. She had a little under two weeks left, and she’d be damned if she was wasting a second of it worrying about how the hell she was walking away from him and dragging her butt onto that plane.
The rhinestones Olivia had decorated the cover with burst to life under the sunlight filtering through the Wishing Tree’s canopy and reflected a kaleidoscope of color over the bone-white trunk. She traced the explosions of light swirling over the smooth bark with her fingertips before closing her eyes. With each beat of her heart, the world around her drifted away, and she once again found herself floating between worlds.
In the two weeks since she’d last been here she’d convinced herself her vision had been nothing more than a heat and jet-lag-induced hallucination. A simple manifestation of the stories Ryder had shared about his home, combined with the excitement of starting her adventure, and a sex-fueled overdose of serotonin from destroying her virginity. But as she breathed in the eucalypt-scented air and surrendered to the tranquility flowing through her fingers and into her chest, she knew she’d been kidding herself. She opened her eyes and stepped away from the trunk before she wandered into a future she’d never have. She hadn’t come here seeking another wish—she’d already received more than she could ever have dreamed. She’d come back to repay a debt.
“Thank you.” She shook her head and chuckled. Now she was talking to trees. She patted the trunk and turned toward the cave protecting the Wishing Tree’s offerings from the brutal outback weather.
Ryder’s white lie drifted through her head as she navigated the maze of rocks and twisted roots. The offering means more when it comes from someone else. Yeah, right, like she was buying that. The sneak had distracted her with stories of magical trees and had made the offering for her despite knowing how much she hated freeloading. She’d lost count of the number of arguments they’d had about her paying her own way. But do you think the stubborn ass listened? If he wasn’t trying to get her to take it easy or pop her painkillers, he was trying to drag her away somewhere. But she couldn’t bring herself to leave this magical place or its crazy inhabitants. If she survived this death match with Doris, she might get a chance to see Uluru or the Great Barrier Reef with Olivia, but she was never coming back to Wingarra. If she did, she’d never leave, and she cared about him way too much to sentence him to a lifetime of sacrifice and worry he was too honorable to escape.
She nestled the Akubra he’d apparently taken an hour to choose for her over her scarf and smiled. She hadn’t figured out how she was going to get him back for the hat, but she’d well and truly thanked the hell out of him last night. She should’ve told him off as soon as they were alone in their loft hideaway, but somewhere between her jabbing a finger into his chest and him yanking her into a bone-crushing hug, her heart had melted all over her stubbornness and she’d jumped him.
She paused in front of the cave and studied the pirate’s treasure. The more valuable the offering, the greater the chances your wish comes true. Whatever the hell he’d hidden beneath that teddy bear had been small enough to conceal in his hand, which meant it could’ve been anything from a mid-sized SUV to a lucky hunk of shrapnel he’d snatched out of the air with his teeth while saving the world.
She’d tried to sex the truth out of him during the first few nights they’d shared, but whenever their clothes hit the floor her thoughts drifted off to completely different types of offerings. Whenever she got back to the subject of Wishing Tree offerings he’d simply jiggled her painkillers at her and grinned, the sneaky blackmailing ass.
Her mind raced and her throat tightened as she squatted and studied the dented cooking pot and one-eyed teddy bear he’d used to hide his offering. She drew in a deep breath and slowly slid the bear aside only to have the air she’d just sucked in burst from her mouth as she rocked back onto her heels and nearly fell on her ass.
An eagle glinted up at her from the center of a shiny bronze cross attached to a red, white, and blue ribbon. Beside it lay a darker cross with a maroon ribbon and a lion and crown at the cross’s center. Her hand trembled as she slid her fingers beneath the medals and carefully lifted them out of the sand. She ran her thumb over the inscriptions cast into the crosses. For Valor. Two simple words to represent so much. She collapsed to her knees under the weight of what lay in her palm. She’d known he cared for her. They were friends, they were lovers, but that was simply the way he was, he protected everyone. The medals blurred as her heart tore apart. The man who’d rescued her from the darkness of her life and shown her a world she’d never dreamed existed without asking for anything in return didn’t just care for her, he…he…
She shoved the wig and notebook under the teddy bear and lurched to her feet. Her pitiful offerings weren’t enough. Nothing was ever going to be enough to make up for what she’d done to him, to his family. How could she have been so fucking stupid, so selfish?
A worthless wig that she no longer needed to cover up her insecuritie
s and a childish wish list that had hurt the only man she’d ever love, hurt him in ways a lifetime of combat never could. The private glances, the delicate caresses, the hours spent cradling her to his body as they stared silently into the darkness, the gentleness with which he overwhelmed her, the fierceness with which he protected her, she’d ignored it all to satisfy her own selfish desires.
She gasped in air and scrubbed the tears from her eyes. Tears weren’t going to undo the damage she’d caused and they weren’t going to free the man who’d somehow fallen in love with an evil bitch too blinded by greed to see what was right in front of her face.
Hysterical laughter spluttered out of her as she spun toward Wingarra and the end of her adventure.
Agony sliced through her and split her head apart. His medals tumbled free of her limp fingers as she collapsed to her knees and grabbed her head. The edges of her vision blurred as Doris screeched with delight and tore at her mind.
“No.” She screamed through the pain, her voice part curse, part cry.
Sweat poured down her face as she clung to consciousness. She blinked the starbursts from her eyes and groped in the burning sand for his medals. She’d fought the darkness before, but nothing like this, this was…this was…
She wasn’t going to make it. Her heart drummed against her rib cage, her body shook, and her hands trembled as she clutched his medals to her chest and staggered toward the Wishing Tree.
“Not yet, you fucking bitch, you don’t get to kill me yet.”
Doris shrieked and lashed out again, her talons ripping out chunks of Abi’s mind and crippling her. She crashed into the dust and searched the madness consuming her world for the Wishing Tree.
The blinding sunlight piercing the canopy, the shadows dancing over the bone-white trunk, the scorching desert wind, the molten sand burning her face, the panic constricting her chest, the air leaking from her body, the agony ripping apart her mind, it all disappeared as darkness consumed her.
Against All Odds (Outback Hearts) Page 24