When Danger Follows

by Maggi Andersen

  Caitlin stood up and went to the door of her room, feeling hot and frustrated and fighting to keep her temper. “Jake is my employer, Vanessa. I’ll wait for him to tell me that, if you don’t mind.”

  Vanessa shrugged. “I’m only trying to spare your feelings.”

  “Ready, Vanessa?” Jake stood at the corner of the verandah. Caitlin wondered if he’d heard their conversation. She went into her room. Closing the door she sat on her rocker. Perhaps Vanessa was right, she shouldn’t plan on staying here for long. If they married it would certainly jettison her back out into the world again.

  The prospect made her feel exposed and defenseless, and drew her back to Max and that awful day at Mowat. Waiting for the ambulance to treat the concussed man, she’d realized she’d been drifting, allowing events to pull her along to somewhere she didn’t really want to go.

  After Max had dealt with the Garda, and the cut on her head was treated, they had barely talked as they drove back to Dublin. Things that needed to be said, kept forming in Caitlin’s mind, but when she looked at his stern profile, his taut hands on the wheel, she found she couldn’t utter them.

  It was dark when they arrived back in the city. Max pulled up outside a restaurant they dined at quite often.

  “I’m not really hungry,” Caitlin said. “I have a headache.”

  “You’ll feel better after you’ve eaten.”

  They sat and ordered, but when she gazed at her plate piled high with food, her stomach turned over. Diplomacy deserted her. “I can’t marry you, Max.”

  Max went on cutting into his steak. “It doesn’t matter. We can just go on as before. As long as you stay true to me.”

  She stared at him. “You can’t mean that.”

  He shrugged. “Why not? Marriage isn’t fashionable anymore anyway.”

  “I want to marry and have children one day.”

  A white line formed along Max’s compressed top lip. “But not with me.”

  “I’m sorry, Max. You make everything too hard.”

  “Hard? What do you know about it? Such a little innocent you are, Caitlin.” He gave his cynical laugh and placed his knife and fork together on the plate.

  She was to be the one at fault. It had to be her. She swallowed. “You’re … too unpredictable. I want a quieter life than you can offer me.”

  Max looked at her. “I’m not sure I could handle seeing you with another man.”

  It was because he seemed so calm and in perfect control, that she began to fall apart. “Just let me go. Please, Max. It will be better for both of us.” Tears ran down her cheeks. She pushed back her chair so roughly, she knocked it over. The hum of conversation stilled and curious eyes turned their way, as a waiter rushed to pick it up.

  “No, no, no.” Max shook his head. “I don’t think so.”

  She hurried from the restaurant. In the street when the darkness closed around her she began to sob. She guiltily wondered if the tears were for Max or just for her, suddenly aware she didn’t trust him, had never really trusted him. Love can’t survive without trust. She’d been attracted to his difference, but as she came to understand just how different he was, he had begun to frighten her.

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Chapter Eight

  Caitlin hadn’t seen Harry since the dance, and she found she missed his company. She hoped she hadn’t hurt him.

  She decided it wasn’t wise to let it go too long and walked down to the compound on Sunday afternoon to say hello to the guys. She found them finishing up their lunch in the canteen.

  “Just in time for a light ale,” Harry said, rising from his seat.

  “No thanks, Harry,” she said, sitting down at the table with the three men.

  “How about a cuppa, then?” Riley offered, making a terrible attempt at a British accent.

  They all laughed. “A cuppa would be great,” she said, then turned to look at Harry. “How’ve you all been, working hard?”

  Harry gazed at her. “You know what they say—all work and no play. You’re a feast for the eyes, Caitlin. I’m sick of looking at these ugly blokes.”

  “Now wait a minute!” Mick protested. “We don’t enjoy your ugly mug, neither.”

  Mick and Riley left with a wave and headed back outside, shoving on their hats.

  Caitlin put down her cup. “I haven’t seen you for a while. Is it something I did?”

  “More like what you didn’t do,” Harry said. He shook his head.

  She found her heart beating too fast, but it was just because he looked so hurt. She didn’t know what to say to him and was beginning to feel as if she shouldn’t have come.

  He sighed. “I guess you wouldn’t care to come to the pub next Saturday night? They’re having a talent contest. Angela’s coming.”

  It was an unconditional peace offering and she quickly seized it. “Angela? Love to. I haven’t heard her yodel.”

  Harry smiled. “Angela’s always agreeable to a song or two. It’s Country and Western music. Can you sing?”

  She shook her head. “What about you?”

  He grinned. “I might rake up something.”

  They walked outside. Harry’s manner had brightened, but his eyes beneath the Akubra looked serious. She felt guilty, and longed for his friendly, open personality to return.

  “I better get back to the guys, Caitlin,” he said. “See you Saturday.”

  * * * *

  On Saturday night, Harry turned up in a red-checked shirt and white jeans. After trying on several outfits, Caitlin had fallen back on jeans and an off-the-shoulder, embroidered peasant blouse.

  Angela came along in the Jeep with them. On the way into town, she and Harry chattered like old friends. Caitlin laughed with them, enjoying their easy-going, good humor. A row of colored lights were strung up over the verandah and the pub pulsed with music. Inside, couples crowded the small dance floor.

  As they pushed their way through, people Caitlin had met at the dance greeted her like an old friend. “Good to see you again, Cat,” called Lenny, hailing her from behind the bar. He nodded towards Harry who’d moved on into the crowd. “You couldn’t do better than the Big Easy.”

  “The who, Lenny?”

  “Harry. It’s his nickname around these parts. The ‘Big Easy,’ you know, like that South African golfer chap.”

  “Oh, I see.” Caitlin looked over at Harry’s broad back. It suited him.

  On a small stage, a man was playing the piano, accompanied by a guitarist and a drummer. They performed an energetic rendition of a song Caitlin had never heard before.

  The crowd joined in enthusiastically with the chorus, I’ll marry you tomorrow, but let’s honeymoon tonight. Harry handed her a beer. She tried to thank him and shrugged helplessly. It was impossible to talk above the din.

  When the song ended, two men swung Angela up onto the stage to noisy applause. In her culottes, boots and cowboy hat pushed back onto her shoulders, she certainly looked the part. She performed The Wayward Wind.

  The drinks flowed. The longer the night went on, the more enthusiastically each act was greeted. Harry disappeared for a while and then re-emerged with a guitar and everyone cheered harder. He mounted the stage with a leap and spoke to the musicians.

  The crowd quickly quieted as he began to play. Caitlin opened her mouth in surprise as he sang the Johnny Cash song, I Walk the Line. He was great.

  When he finished, the whole room erupted. There were shouts for an encore and he sang two more songs before they let him leave the stage.

  Just as he sat down, a pretty, teenage girl with her hair in bunches came up to them. She held her hands out to him as she swayed to the music. “Dance, Harry?”

  “Where’s Jimmy, Deb?” he asked her, leaning back in his chair.

  “Oh, he’s outside,” she gestured towards the door, “talking to his mates.”

  “He’ll dance with you. Go and ask him.”

  She pouted. “He won’t.�
�� Grabbing Harry’s hand, she tried to pull him to his feet. “Come on, just one. Caitlin doesn’t mind, do you?”

  “Of course not,” Caitlin answered, smiling.

  Harry stood and took Deb’s hand, leading her out the door of the pub onto the verandah.

  Curious, Caitlin watched.

  There was a group of teenage boys drinking and laughing on the verandah steps.

  “Hey, Jimmy,” Harry said. “Come and dance with your girl.”

  A tall, pimply boy leaned against a post. “Maybe later.”

  “Deb’s a very cute girl, Jimmy. Don’t expect her to wait around for you,” Harry said lightly.

  Deb grinned.

  Jimmy scowled and said, “C’mon, then,” and pulled her inside.

  Harry winked at Caitlin as he sat down again.

  “You little old matchmaker you,” she said, laughing.

  “Pure self-preservation,” Harry said. “How about a dance?”

  They left the pub after midnight for the long trek back to Tall Trees. Angela was staying in town for the night. Seemingly indefatigable, she was climbing onto the stage for another song as they left.

  “You could take up singing as a career. You’re really good,” Caitlin said as they drove along the dark road.

  “I’m okay, but not good enough for that.” As if to end the conversation, Harry leaned forward and turned some music on. A Spanish guitar played a tender melody. “You enjoyed tonight?”

  “I did. The people here are like a big family. They don’t ask questions. I feel less lonely here, strangely.”

  Harry turned to look at her. “It’s the remoteness that draws people together every chance they get. City people who come here say they feel lonelier in crowds.”

  “I guess it depends on who you have in your corner,” she said, watching the moon sailing across the cloudless sky.

  “Surely you’ve had some good people in yours?”

  “A few.”

  “It’s nature that governs us here. It can be lethally unpredictable. You can’t let down your guard. I guess that toughens you up.”

  “I’m certainly toughening up on the outside,” she said, thinking of her aching thighs and bottom after riding.

  Harry grinned. “Shame.”

  They reached the top of the hill. Harry pulled over to the side of the road and leapt out. “Come and see the view.”

  She came to stand beside him. Burrawong was a tiny cluster of lights in the vast, black landscape. The canopy of brilliant stars overhead seemed so close she felt she could almost reach up and touch them.

  He lit a cigarette.

  Caitlin waved her hand to dispel the smoke.

  He raised an eyebrow and turned to her, the moon showing his expression in sharp lines. “Caitlin,” he said softly. “I’d give it up for you. You bowled me over the day I first saw you back on that road.” He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “Hot and scared.”

  “I looked scared?”

  “When you talk about being lonely, I don’t understand how someone like you could feel that way. I’ve been hoping you’d tell me what it is you’re running away from.”

  She looked down at her hands. “I don’t seem to be able to right now, Harry.”

  “Do you think you’ll get Jake out of your system soon? I’d like to get to know you. I’d like you to get to know me.”

  “Jake’s taken, remember?”

  “Doesn’t stop you loving someone, does it?”

  “You just don’t allow yourself to.”

  “That easy, huh?” He pinched the cigarette between thumb and index finger then tossed it away. Turning back to her, he said, “You’re free then?”

  “Yes, I’m free, but Harry … I value your friendship. Can’t it just continue like that?”

  Harry turned and headed back to the Jeep. She followed, regretting the moment had to end like this. He waited until she’d buckled up before he started the engine. “I guess I’ll have to settle for that, then.” He gave her a searching look. “Anytime you need a friend, for whatever reason, I’m not far away.”

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

  Chapter Nine

  “Can I go riding tomorrow, Caitlin?” Elizabeth pressed her small body into Caitlin’s side.

  “I don’t see why not, darling. Your ankle is so much better now. You and William can ride your ponies after lessons.” It had been three weeks since Elizabeth hurt her ankle and the children had been cooped up, restless and quarrelsome. She was running out of ideas to keep them entertained. But she was delighted to see Elizabeth’s appetite had improved and the sharp angles of her pixie face had softened.

  As Caitlin helped Angela dish up the dinner, she noticed the table was set for five. Jake would be eating with them. The thought gave her a swift rush of pleasure, which she immediately tried to suppress.

  “Daddy,” William said, jumping up as Jake walked into the room. “Toby’s sad. He’s missing me.”

  “That pony of yours will be getting fat, Will. We can’t have that. You’ll have to give him a good run tomorrow. We’ve got the gymkhana coming up soon.”

  “Had a good day, Caitlin?” Jake took off his hat and smoothed his dark hair, giving her a wry smile that told her he knew how difficult it had been. His smile never failed to make her catch her breath, and then she would go through all the reasons why she shouldn’t fool herself into thinking that they were becoming a family, or could ever be one. He’d taken several trips to Darwin lately and, although Vanessa hadn’t returned with him, Caitlin guessed a wedding was on the horizon.

  Tall Trees was shorthanded and Jake worked long hours, down with the men during the day from dawn to dusk. He worked in his office until all hours of the night. But since the night Elizabeth went missing he’d made a practice of spending an hour or two with the children and dining with them.

  “Aah. Roast chicken and mashed potato,” he said approvingly. “Wonderful choice, Angela.”

  Caitlin smiled to herself. Angela was a capable but plain cook. Meals tended to be served on a rote basis. Roast chicken appeared every Thursday without fail.

  “Now, don’t you go on,” Angela said, standing with her hands on her hips. “If you want French Cuisine, hire a French chef.”

  Jake put an arm around her shoulders. “And trade in your excellent roast for a rich and fattening Boeuf Bourguignon? Never!”

  “Go on with you,” Angela said, smiling as she deposited blobs of mashed potato on each plate.

  “Drink after dinner, Caitlin?” Jake asked her.

  Having a drink together after dinner in the sitting room was fast becoming a habit. The children watched television or played a board game, which gave her and Jake a chance to discuss their progress, but lately they’d begun to talk about other things. Caitlin was learning more about his past but so far had avoided telling him much about hers. She filled in the blanks as he told her how he’d been born in Utah, and spent his teenage years in Perth. He and Caroline met at high school.

  Tall Trees had been in Caroline’s family since the first settlers arrived in Australia. When she and Jake were first married, Jake was managing a smaller property down south, then Caroline’s Dad retired and handed over the reins of Tall Trees to him. It was rundown and the reputation of the station and the quality of the export beef had suffered. The demands from Japan for prime beef were growing every day. Caitlin guessed Tall Trees would be a daunting task that some men might find almost overwhelming, but Jake seemed to embrace it as a great opportunity to build a future for his family. And, just as he was reaping the rewards of all his hard work, Caroline had been killed.

  His sad loss struck a cord in Caitlin. She felt he was strong, though, both in body and mind. He would overcome most things that life threw at him. What she questioned was something that was really none of her business—could he ever fully commit to another woman?

  [Back to Table of Contents]

  * * *

&
nbsp; Chapter Ten

  The gymkhana was held at a neighboring cattle station, one hundred kilometers away. Riley was to drive the children’s ponies in their float, and the family follow in Jake’s SUV.

  “Dress up a bit, Caitlin,” Angela advised Caitlin. She wrinkled her nose. “These events are pretty fancy.”

  “What do you mean by fancy, exactly?”

  “All the toffs turn up at Springbroke station,” she said. “It’s the biggest event on the social calendar. People, who wouldn’t come up here for love nor money, make it for this event. Prince Charles has even been to Springbroke for the polo.”

  Caitlin began to feel nervous. “What on earth can I wear?”

  “Let’s have a look.”

  In her room, Caitlin spread her clothes over the bedcover for Angela’s inspection. “I didn’t bring much with me.”

  Angela began moving bits of clothing around. “Nothing Designer, anyway.”

  It was such an incongruous remark for Angela to make, Caitlin almost giggled, but she saw Angela was serious and said quickly. “I didn’t think I’d need anything like that. I’ve never moved in those circles.”

  “You’re lucky,” Angela said. “They all used to come here for weekends when Caroline was alive. Debauched lot if you ask me. Don’t know what Caroline and Jake saw in them. Wait, I have a dress that might fit you.”

  She left the room. Caitlin began to feel nervous about what Angela would come up with. She hated being offered clothes and never felt quite herself in borrowed things.

  Angela came back with an apple-green-and-white swirl-patterned chiffon dress. It had shoe-string straps and a wide, white belt. From a hat box, she produced a Garbo style, wide-brimmed hat. “This should fit you,” she said. “I’ve never worn it.”

  “It’s fabulous,” Caitlin said, trying to hide her surprise. “But, I couldn’t.”

  Angela’s brown eyes gleamed. “Of course you could. Go on Caitlin, try it on. I’ll be out in the kitchen.”

  Minutes later Caitlin waltzed into the kitchen and twirled self-consciously around for the children. The dress could have been made for her. And, as luck would have it, her one pair of high-heeled white sandals went with it perfectly.