Her Outback Rescuer

by Marion Lennox

  Stupid? Maybe it was, she thought as she hugged Rachel, but that was the way it was and there was nothing she could do about it.

  * * *

  The native people held this place as sacred and Hugo could understand why. He felt it a little, and he respected it more.

  He showed Maud the plants. She appreciated them but she was smart—she knew she was being diverted.

  ‘There’s more to this for the girls than just looking at a rock,’ she said. ‘Do you know what?’

  Maud was great, he thought, loving her even more. How many women would be as intuitive as she was?

  ‘They’ve been through a lot,’ he told her, and then he told her as much of Rachel’s story as he knew, and what he suspected they were doing now. Amy would agree, he thought, for Maud in healer mode was a power to be reckoned with.

  ‘They’re lovely girls,’ Maud said when he finished, and then she glanced thoughtfully at Hugo. ‘But Amy’s special.’

  ‘They’re both...okay.’

  ‘They’re more than okay,’ she declared. ‘And you and Amy... You’ve just told me her secrets—you, the world’s best secret-keeper. Amy trusts you, and now you’re trusting me as well.’ She frowned, thinking it through. ‘That means you know Amy won’t mind you sharing with me. You know Amy.’

  ‘Maud...’

  ‘I’m just saying,’ she said speculatively, even mischievously. ‘I’m saying Amy is special and I’m saying don’t mess with it.’

  * * *

  Rachel wilted soon after, and so did Maud. They returned to the house and Maud retired to her bedroom. Rachel swam in the pool, then went to sleep on a sun lounger. Hugo retreated to his grandfather’s study to immerse himself in the business of Thurston Holdings.

  Trying not to think about Amy?

  Work... Thurstons. He already had a handle on this. He could do it. There were challenges he could get his teeth into.

  So why did it feel so bleak?

  Because he was facing it alone?

  He liked being alone, he told himself. Of course he did. When had he not?

  There were odd sounds coming from the veranda. He glanced beyond the curtains and Amy was at the veranda rail, steadily working through some sort of practice routine.

  She was wearing tights, a T-shirt and bare feet. She was moving through action after action, each movement designed to stretch her body to the limit.

  She looked amazing, he thought, and it was all he could do not to fling open the windows and join her.

  Only that’d mean she’d stop. No.

  He watched her and he wondered. Maud had said she’d been one of Australia’s best dancers. What must she be feeling, to walk away?

  He watched her, her grace, her beauty, and the suspicion surfaced again that she’d chosen this path. After her sister’s accident she’d moved from principal roles to dancing in the background. Now, as her sister needed to move on, suddenly she was retiring for ever?

  She’d hinted it was through body fatigue. She’d intimated she hurt as much as Maud did.

  She wasn’t hurting now. What she was doing was amazing.

  Something was twisting within him. Aching.

  That something wasn’t allowed to ache, he told himself harshly. He had no business wanting... what he was wanting.

  The sensations of the morning came flooding back. The tension on Amy’s face. The way she’d held Rachel.

  Amy.

  No. He turned back to his grandfather’s desk. To his grandfather’s world.

  There was a bunch of newspaper cuttings on the side—Wendy must have gathered them for Maud. They were tributes written when James had died, but littered throughout were pictures taken at random, many taken by people like the guy on the train.

  Public intrusion. Public exposure.

  If he took over Thurstons he could ignore this, he thought. He must. This wasn’t a path he’d have chosen to tread, but there’d be satisfaction in getting it right.

  And the path Amy was choosing?

  Amy’s choice was no business of his.

  But what if their worlds merged?

  He glanced again at the media clippings and his mind closed to the random dumb thought. What was he thinking? He wouldn’t put any woman he loved into that sort of goldfish bowl.

  Any woman he loved? Where had that come from?

  Nowhere, he thought savagely, and that was where it could go. Nowhere.

  Go back to work. Maud could matchmake all she liked. It wasn’t on.

  * * *

  Maud and Rachel fitted like hand in glove. Rachel was fragile and needed nurturing. Maud needed someone to nurture. She’d been trying to nurture Hugo, but there was only so much nurturing a soldier could take.

  The next morning, when Maud started collecting pillows to make the sun loungers more comfortable, he thought of a hundred other things he should be doing.

  So did Amy. ‘I might take a walk,’ she said hastily, but Rachel looked longingly at the pillows.

  Maud grinned. ‘Exactly. Let me tell you my plans for our day.’ As Hugo backed away she caught his arm. ‘No, Hugo. Rachel and Buster and I need our beauty sleep, but Rachel’s been telling me she needs rock samples from the Olgas. So that’s what I’ve planned.’

  ‘What?’ Hugo said cautiously, but he already knew what was coming.

  ‘It’s a gorgeous walking day,’ Maud decreed. ‘I’ve asked Wendy to prepare a picnic lunch for the two of you. You can take James’s old backpack, carry lunch there and carry rocks home. Rachel, you tell Hugo what rocks you want and he’ll bring them home to you.’ She beamed from Amy to Hugo and back again. ‘You two can walk the whole Olgas today. Ooh, I wish I was young enough to join you.’

  She didn’t look as if she wished she could join them. She looked like a Machiavellian old...old... Words failed him.

  She was oblivious. ‘I knew you’d love the idea,’ she said happily. ‘Off you go and put on suncream and sturdy boots—you have got sturdy boots, Amy? Don’t get lost. If you’re not back by midnight we’ll send out a search party. Oh, and take Amy home via Uluru at sunset, Hugo. Rachel and I will go over in the other car and meet you. You don’t mind spending the day with me, do you, Rachel?’

  ‘No,’ Rachel said, looking thoughtful, and then rather pleased. ‘I’d love to.’

  ‘There you go, then,’ Maud said, sounding smug. ‘Not an objection in sight. Off you go, the pair of you, and have fun.’

  * * *

  It was thirty miles to the base of the Olgas. Hugo drove in silence. He was doing what he always did, which was retreating into himself.

  Self-protection? Yes, it was, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit it. His nightmares were too close—too real—to leave himself unprotected.

  Ten minutes. Fifteen. Still silence.

  ‘I know you’ve been hijacked but do you have to play the martyr?’ Amy asked at last, sounding strained.

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘It’s incredibly generous of you and your grandma to have us stay,’ she said. ‘And it was even more generous of Maud to make you bring me to the Olgas. I know you were bulldozed, but so was I. I didn’t want to be under obligation but I can’t help it. We’re in this together, so if you’re going to sulk...’

  ‘I’m not sulking!’ he said, astonished.

  ‘No?’

  ‘No! I just like my own company.’

  ‘Well, bully for you. You know this is not my call,’ she
snapped. ‘Rachel wants her rocks. Maud wants you to come with me and I can’t get to the Olgas by myself. You’re stuck so you might as well be sociable.’

  ‘I’m no good at small talk.’

  ‘You’re a man of action,’ she said. ‘I can see that.’ She hesitated. ‘Are you hating the thought of taking over from your grandpa?’

  ‘No!’

  More silence.

  ‘Okay, then,’ she said, determinedly cheerful. ‘Next topic?’

  ‘We don’t need to talk.’

  She looked at him thoughtfully. Really thoughtfully.

  ‘Okay, then,’ she said at last, and wriggled down further into the car seat. ‘Go right ahead and sulk. I might even join you.’

  She wanted small talk.

  He glanced across at the determined set of her mouth, the flash of anger in her eyes. The cute way her nose...

  No.

  Solitude.

  Silence.

  * * *

  He was being a bore and she was starting to be angry.

  They’d hardly talked by the time they reached the foot of the Olgas. Hugo heaved the lunch/rock pack onto his back and set off. Amy put her own smaller pack on and trudged determinedly by his side. In silence.

  She was enjoying herself, she told herself. She must be. In this place, how could she not?

  The Olgas were vast domes jammed hard into one another, each dome the size of a small mountain. Walking trails snaked throughout. With Rachel’s list to guide them, they set off through the Valley of the Winds, the trail the guidebooks said was the loveliest in the range.

  They seemed to have the place to themselves, though the domes were so huge there could be crowds hidden here and they wouldn’t know. The breeze meant it wasn’t too hot, and the creeks meandering across their path and the fact that they could scoop mountain water over their faces at every ford made it feel even cooler.

  Hawks were circling in the thermals above their heads, watching them with idle interest. They looked awesome. It should be the most awesome day, she thought. It was. But what was it with this guy beside her?

  ‘Do you think I’m planning on jumping you?’ she asked at last, trying for a reaction—for any reaction.

  ‘Don’t be daft,’ he said, attempting a smile, but he kept right on striding. She was keeping up easily but she was fit. A lesser woman would have been left behind in the car park.

  Maybe that was what he wanted.

  ‘I’m not stupid and I wouldn’t jump you if you paid me,’ she snapped. ‘Hugo, stop now. If you find my company so obnoxious, how about you give me half the lunch, half the list of the rocks Rachel wants and we meet back in the car park when we’re done? I know Maud’s trying to set us up but that’s not my fault and if we separate now your grandma will never know.’

  He did stop then.

  They were standing on a ridge between two of the great domes. The scenery in both directions was breathtaking. The wind right now was wafting gently through the valley, but the trees were bent and gnarled with the fiercer wind that had given the place its name.

  Right now, however, the scenery was immaterial. Hugo had stopped. She needed to think of something to say.

  He looked tense. He also looked tough, battle-trained, ready for anything. How hard must it be, she wondered, to come from the world’s confrontations to here?

  Say nothing—or ask?

  When had she ever been the shrinking violet?

  ‘Hugo, what’s eating you?’ she demanded, and the irritation she’d been feeling all morning boiled over. ‘You don’t want to be here? Am I the problem, or is it something else? Where else do you want to be? On some battlefield somewhere, or behind your grandpa’s desk? Right now you’re in what I imagine must be one of the most beautiful places in the whole world—and you’re sulking?’

  ‘I am not sulking,’ he said and turned as if to keep walking.

  ‘You are so sulking,’ she yelled after him, and all the frustration, the humiliation of being treated as a duty, the worry about Rachel, her future, everything, all boiled over in that one yell.

  Her yell sounded out over the valley and the echo came straight back at her, the valley ringing with the cadence of her fury. And it didn’t stop. Over and over it echoed, bouncing off the valley walls. Her anger was everywhere.

  Sulking...king...king...king...

  Whoa, she thought, stunned, and then, despite her shock, she felt her lips twitch. She thought: if I’m going to insult a guy, why not do it in style?

  How would he react to being so publicly chastised? She could see no one, but that echo would be carrying her voice all the way to Uluru.

  And his blank look had faded. He was staring at her as if she had two heads.

  She couldn’t take it back. The echo of her insult went on and on, as if the mountains themselves were accusing.

  Would he explode right back?

  She thought about apologising. She decided she was still too angry. And, ridiculously, laughter was too close.

  She tried desperately to focus just on her anger. She’d looked forward to being here for so long, yet his grumpiness was spoiling it for her. She’d rather be on a tour group than this.

  ‘You should have let us stay at the resort,’ she muttered, trying not to sound defensive.

  ‘You want to yell that down the valley, too?’

  He was angry, she thought. He was angry at her.

  He didn’t even get why she might be even mildly irritated and suddenly she was a whole lot more than mildly irritated. She’d thought this guy was empathic, kind, not to mention sexy as hell. Even though she’d assured him she had no intention of jumping him, she’d set off today with a tiny frisson of excitement about spending the day with him. And okay, she conceded. Maybe it wasn’t so tiny.

  But now... How he was behaving... She met his tense gaze and she decided her tension hadn’t exploded enough. She was going to laugh or cry or...what? She had to do something—and this guy deserved everything he was about to get.

  She turned and faced down into the valley and she cupped her hands and she yelled.

  ‘You should have let us stay at the res...’

  He grabbed her and whirled her to face him, clamping his hand hard on her mouth.

  She writhed in fury. He released her mouth but his hands moved to her shoulders as if he was ready to take further action at first yell.

  ‘Oi,’ she managed, struggling to haul free. ‘Let go of me. You want to take this to the next level?’

  ‘And what would that be?’ he demanded, sardonic, and she couldn’t resist. His hands were on her shoulders. Of all the great positions...

  Do it.

  She did.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  ONE minute he was holding her hard, stopping her from yelling. The next he was lying on his back, staring at the sky.

  He’d been flipped, by a girl almost a foot shorter than him. By a ballet dancer. By the girl his body had been studiously trying to ignore all morning.

  He was a commando.

  She’d flipped him as if he were a pancake.

  She’d backed away. She was watching from a distance, waiting for him to get up, waiting to see if she should run.

  If his men could see him now...

  He’d thought before how cute her nose was. From this angle...everything was cute.

  The way she was looking at him. Apprehension plus.

  His anger, his f
rustration receded. There was only here, only now. His lips twitched.

  He really should get up.

  It was kind of peaceful lying here. A hawk was wheeling just above his head. Maybe he could lie here for a while. Take in what had just happened.

  Make her worry?

  ‘Have I hurt you?’ she asked and there was doubt creeping in. Worry? Indignation was still there, though. In spades.

  ‘Yes,’ he said conversationally, ‘I believe you have.’

  ‘Hugo...’

  Was there fear in her voice?

  He’d been flipped in a classic martial arts throw. He’d landed flat on his back as she’d intended. Such a throw, onto flat ground, wouldn’t normally do damage, but, of course, she hadn’t checked the ground for rocks or other hazards before she’d thrown.

  ‘You’ve hurt my dignity,’ he said, and saw a wash of relief on her face—fast replaced by a response worthy of a warrior.

  ‘Well, as long as I haven’t squashed our sandwiches,’ she threw back, and he almost choked.

  She’d thrown him and she was able to come straight back at him, pretending the flash of fear she knew he’d seen wasn’t for him but for her lunch.

  She was...amazing.

  ‘The sandwiches are fine,’ he admitted. ‘I believe they’re in a plastic container. I can feel the box digging into my spine.’

  ‘Thank heaven for that. I’d forgotten about lunch.’

  ‘So if you’d remembered, you’d have asked me to take the backpack off first?’

  ‘I’d have brought you down on your side instead.’

  He sat up and gazed at her with incredulity. She stared back, still defiant, but also... a little bit scared. Was she afraid he’d retaliate?

  Worse, maybe she was afraid he’d go straight back to being the bore that he’d been all morning. Maybe he’d deserved to be thrown.

  ‘Karate?’ he asked conversationally.

  ‘Tae Kwon Do.’

  ‘You learn Tae Kwon Do as part of ballet training?’

  She relaxed a little. Just a little. ‘My grandma always said a woman needs to look after herself,’ she said, talking a bit fast. Nerves were still front and centre. ‘She sent us to lessons from the age of five. It was through Tae Kwon Do that I discovered ballet—my teacher told me I had natural ability.’