by Margaret Way
“Well, then, you’d better talk to him,” Dee said. “You care about him, don’t ya?” She fixed Amber with her shrewd black eyes.
“What does it look like, Dee?” Amber gave this knowing woman a wry smile.
“Ask me, ya perfect for each other,” Dee grunted, to cover a little sob.
Amber got away for her ride late afternoon. She could feel the kinks and twinges in her body from the fall. She wondered how Cal, who had taken the brunt of it, was faring. In all likelihood he had experienced far worse. A good gallop might straighten her out. Her whole being was too restless to remain at the homestead.
She took Horatio in preference to the mare. Horatio would test her. She felt like being tested. Janis MacFarlane’s lesson in loving—or lusting—had been a harsh one. It had crushed love for her husband and, even more sadly, love for her baby out of existence. Amber couldn’t shake off a sense of pity, not knowing then what she would learn in the future. She had no need to spend any time pitying Janis MacFarlane. Janis was destined to fall on her feet.
In the afternoon light the landscape was glowing with colour, all the brilliant dry ochres—burnt umber, cinnabar, chrome-yellow, black, white and charcoal—to complement the intense opal-blue of the sky. The Hill Country was washed with colours from another spectrum—the mauves, the soft purples, the grape-blues. High above them an eagle coasted, sometimes appearing to hover motionless. She knew the great wedge-tailed eagles made their eyries in the far-off hills with their prehistoric rock galleries she had yet to see. Once she spotted, to her delight, a group of kangaroos in company with almost as many emus, the emus stalking around majestically, as befitting giants of the bird world. The grace and freedom of these animals. She thought she could watch them all day. The great plains that at first seemed so empty were actually swarming with life. The bird life alone was beyond belief.
This was the real Australia. The Outback. The home of the cattle kings. She was hoping to get to ride that exotic beast, the camel. Hundreds of them were roaming the station. A camel could go anywhere and everywhere in the desert, comfortably travelling twice the distance even a big thoroughbred horse like Horatio could travel. Jingala had drawn her in to the point she felt she would have difficulty in letting go. She had thought she would be visiting one of the world’s harshest environments, an immensity of brown. What a surprise she’d been in for! She hadn’t been privileged to see the miracle of the wild flowers, although swathes of paper daisies still lingered across certain sections of the station. Jingala wasn’t the desert proper. It bordered the real desert, the Simpson, fifty-six thousand square miles of rolling red sand dunes. In her receptive frame of mind she felt a close affinity with this ancient land. She would have no difficulty in making it her home.
Returning to the homestead, the beauty of the sunset once more held her spellbound. No wonder the aborigines worshipped the land. It had such power—power to ease the mind. She felt immeasurably better after her ride. Jingala homestead was extraordinary, set down as it was in an oasis of green, with no sign of human habitation to all points of the compass. She could understand the desolation Cal’s mother must have felt. Outback life had proved unliveable in the end to a woman who had been at war with her environment. She understood too how Cal, suffering the experience of his mother’s abandonment, had settled, whether consciously or unconsciously, on Brooke Rowlands for a wife. His main priority would have been to choose a woman he could hold onto. A woman who had been reared to Outback life. Sexual desire would have been necessary, but Brooke was very attractive with a charming way to her. She had been very good with little Marcus, too. Holding him in a way he’d responded to and liked. She didn’t think Brooke was actually promiscuous. She had probably been having fun, had too much to drink and fell into bed with a young man she knew well. Brooke would have realized her dreadful mistake the instant she’d woken up.
Alas, too late!
Cal demanded total emotional commitment. Asking another woman to marry him would involve considerable practical and emotional risks. Was he ready to take the chance? In the time she had been on Jingala they had discovered they had a lot in common. Not just the powerful sexual attraction that gathered strength with every passing day. The question of when they would come together was like a constant crackle in the atmosphere.
It had been Janis MacFarlane’s unstable behaviour that had piled on the pressure. It hadn’t been a normal holiday; or a normal getting to know one another. Far from it. She was happy with the way she had gained Cal’s respect. Her fear now was that recent events would cause him to retreat, at least for a period of time before he took any final step. He had to see her not just as a desirable woman. He had to see her as the right woman. She had to live up to what he wanted in his life’s partner.
Her own feelings had settled into absolute certainty. She loved him. Her search for her soulmate had come to an end. Cal MacFarlane was a man she was ready to love, honour and obey. She was comfortable with all three.
From habit, she entered the office to check whether she had any emails. She had received quite a few from Zara that made her smile. Zara was one of the few people who knew where she was. They’d had great times together. Only one message came up. She eased herself into the leather desk chair to read it.
Greetings, Amber!
Your friend Zara parted with your email address. The price—she wants a job—could find her a spot. As for you, I’m delighted to hear you’re having such a great time. Might be an idea if you got an interview out of the MacFarlane Cattle King. I remember the shot of the two of you coming out of that restaurant. You looked like a couple of movie stars. You’ll be heartened to hear scores of angry viewers have been inundating the station with emails demanding to know when we’re going to put you back on air. You’re loved, kiddo! Erskine is a decent enough guy after all. Word has come down from on high, you’re free to come home. We’ve all missed you. Even Jack. He and Liv Sutton aren’t making it as the dream team. He thinks she’s a lightweight. She thinks he’s a pain in the ass. So Jack is ready for your return. Please let me know when that great day will be. Make it real soon but give me time to arrange a welcome home party.
All my best,
Paddy
When she was done reading it, Amber printed it off, then read it once more, all the while quietly muttering to herself. Instead of being thrilled, as she would have been under normal circumstances, she felt hugely unsettled. She couldn’t ignore Paddy. She would have to answer him. What would she say? She’d take the next plane?
How unexpected was life! Today, of all days, yet another emergency had been forced on her. What was she supposed to do? Hand Cal the email? Let him read it, digest the contents, then make a telling comment?
What would she do if he handed back the email with the casual enquiry, So when are you thinking of leaving?
Depending on the way he said it and the accompanying look in those enigmatic green eyes, she might have to answer, On the first flight available.
She had no idea what she would do if he took her imminent departure in his stride. Probably tear her hair out. But surely tearing her hair out would come close to Janis’s hacking off her locks? Was it a female thing? One of the ultimate expressions of grief?
For the first time Dee insisted Marcus spend the night with her. “The nanny will be flying in tomorra and you need a break,” she told Amber in a no-argument voice.
“My TV station wants me back, Dee,” Amber confessed.
“Wh-a-t?” Dee fell back as if she’d been shot.
“There was an email waiting for me. The viewers miss me.”
“We’ll be missin’ you too.” Dee started to pull frantically on an ear lobe. “What are you gonna do? Sorry, it’s none of my business, love.”
“I think it is.” Amber moved to hug her. “I’ll tell Cal over dinner, but I’m worried how he’ll react. He mightn’t care as much about me as I’d like to think.” It came out so forlornly.
“Tell him all t
he same,” Dee advised.
Towards the end of dinner Cal suddenly grasped Amber’s narrow wrist. “What’s on your mind?” His tone was sharp and alert.
“You think there’s something on my mind?” Madness to deny it.
“Amber, don’t let’s get into that question for question stuff,” he warned. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” His eyes swept over her. She was wearing a short dress with little ruffles in a shade almost the colour of her hair. She looked beautiful, if sad.
“I told you, Cal, just a few twinges here and there. You’re the one who took the brunt of it.”
“It’s my job to look after you.” His mouth faintly twisted.
She had to glance away to cover her emotional agitation. Another beautiful desert night, a dazzling canopy of stars. All her nerves bunched. Unsure what to tell him. Terrified he would take her news calmly, thus crushing her hopes.
“Tell me,” he said in that clipped tone he used to express displeasure. “You want to go home. You want to go back where you belong.”
“And you’re going to let me go?”
His light eyes darkened. “I know, apart from Janis and the whole situation, you’ve been enjoying yourself here. But you have the whole world at your feet. You’re as much out of your element as a yellow rose springing from a desert rock.”
She leapt to her own defence, temper flaring. “Aren’t you the one who told me about all the exquisite little wild flowers that manage to survive growing out of rocks? I’m no hot-house flower.”
“No, you’re a species of your own.”
“A hardy one, I’d like you to know. Does this mean I should start packing?” Without meaning to, she found herself standing, more overwrought than she knew. “That’s enough to send me home.”
He stood as well, his expression intense. “I thought you said you wanted to go?”
“I said no such thing. Here, read this.” She turned about to snatch up the email she had left folded on the carved console.
“I don’t need to read it.” He took it all the same. “You’ve told me all I need to know. They want you back. I knew they would. You’re obviously very valuable to them.”
“It was your wicked old grandfather who gave the okay,” she said, conscious there was too much heat in her voice. “Does he know I’m here?”
“Who cares what he knows,” Cal responded bluntly. “Seems like the trip is over and the crying begins.”
“I don’t see you crying,” she accused, furious to feel the sting of tears at the back of her eyes.
“Not now, anyhow,” he said with heavy humour. “Are you going to sit down again? We haven’t finished dinner. Dee will be upset.”
“You should have waited until after dinner,” she said, lowering herself back into the rattan armchair.
“I wish I had,” he said wryly, taking the chair opposite her. “What do you want from me, Amber?”
“What do you want from me? Let’s get it on the table.” She reached for her half empty wineglass, tossing the contents back. She must have learned that from Janis.
“Well, I’m mad to make love to you,” he announced in a don’t-push-me-too-far voice. “I’m not going to pretend about that. It’s chronic by this stage. I don’t think I can last another day without having you. Are you taking me seriously? You should.”
“Okay, then. You’ve cited desire.” She ticked off a finger. “Kindly explain what else, if anything, makes me attractive to you.”
“Don’t start this, Amber,” he begged, like a man fast reaching his limits. “Don’t, don’t, don’t.”
“Annoying you, am I?’ Her golden eyes flashed.
“Inciting me, more like it. As if you didn’t know. Maybe we can sleep together tonight, then pretend it never happened?”
She tried to breathe steadily. Couldn’t manage it. “Apologise for that.”
“No.” His answer was blunt. “You might like to calm down, though. Dee’s coming with the coffee. She told me she’s taking care of Marcus tonight.”
Sure enough she fired. “Does that mean we’re free to give in to our desire?”
“Well, I’ve been considering it if you haven’t,” he returned sardonically. “In some ways I regret my inability to withstand you.”
“Of course you do,” she said. “You much prefer to maintain a distance.”
“That’s what’s kept me from knocking your door down.”
He looked as if he meant it. “Ah, so you’re a caveman? You’ve been keeping that from me. Anyway, here’s Dee,” she warned as Dee wheeled the trolley into the room. “She’s within earshot. I don’t want her to see us fighting.”
“Is that what we’re doing?” he asked with a lift of the brow. “You know I pictured something quite different for tonight. But nothing is certain in life.”
“You can say that again!”
They called it a night before the two of them worked up a real argument.
“I’d really appreciate it if you’d let me stay until Eliot comes home and Marcus is responding well to the new nanny” was Amber’s parting shot. Extremely unfair because he hadn’t said a thing about her leaving. Over-emotional with the events of the day, she was in a perverse mood, deliberately provoking him.
“Former nanny,” he corrected shortly. He stood in the entrance hall, watching her flounce up the stairs with those long beautiful legs. “She was here when Jan was ringing the changes. She’s a very nice woman—widow, early forties, ex-nursing sister, Martha Fenton. She was handling Marcus just fine only Janis swore an oath to get rid of her, just like her predecessor.”
“And me!” Amber reminded him. “Never a kind word. Goodnight, Cal.” She clipped the words off in a tone she had perfected from him.
“You’re not going to your martyrdom, are you?” he called after her in a dark, sardonic voice.
“I’m trying not to charge down the stairs and hit you.” Every electrical circuit in her blood was hot-wired.
Cal gave a short laugh. “And what do you think would happen if you did?” Desire was shooting through his body like a flaming arrow, but he tried to bank it down. She could flounce off tonight. It had been a terrible day for her. But he knew, beyond all denial, he would never let her go. Lock her up if he had to. The sun shone more brightly with Amber around.
She paused to look down at him. His green eyes glittered brilliantly, but his handsome features looked unusually drawn. Her breath caught. “I thought you were trying to put the brakes on, not play with fire?” She hesitated uncertainly.
“I’ve never stopped playing with fire with you around.” He gave that twisted smile. “Go to bed, Amber. Try to get a good night’s sleep. It’s been one hell of a day. I’m sure you’ll agree.”
“Oh, I do!” To her absolute horror she found herself close to tears. Once more her life was running off the rails. And serve her right! There was always something to cause fresh pain. Sean had hurt her pride. This was the kind of pain that went on for ever.
“We’ll talk again,” he promised.
She spun in a passion, a single tear sliding her cheek. “Thanks a lot.”
“Well, it’s a good thing, isn’t it, our talking?” he appealed to her.
“Oh, talk, talk, talk!” she burst out over the lump in her throat. “Why can’t you embrace life, Cal? There are worse things than trusting a woman. Even one with red hair. The trouble with you is you’re frightened to reach out.”
“Am I?” he asked crisply.
She ignored the hard challenge. “Of course you are.”
“We’ll see about that.”
To her shock, he started to come after her. There was only one thing to do. Run! Though exactly why she was running perplexed her. Maybe it was another weird insight into female behaviour. Her heart pounding, tremors running up and down her arms and legs, she reached her bedroom door. She had left it open when she had gone down to dinner, so she was able to fly through the door, slamming it after her.
The speed wit
h which he arrived at her door was like a jolt to the heart. “Open the door, Amber,” he commanded.
That got to her. No plea. An order. “I’m locking it,” she cried. Even to her own ears her voice sounded wild. Lock the man out of his own house?
“Like who owns this house—you?”
“You seem to have forgotten I’m your guest.”
“Guests don’t usually start lecturing their hosts,” he called back. “Open up, before I break it down.”
“Suit yourself.” He wouldn’t break down his own beautiful timber door. That would be a crying shame.
Silence. Oh, Lord! He must have gone away. She had to be a basket case because she was terribly, terribly disappointed. Dispiritedly, she collapsed on the side of her bed, trying to calm down. Her heart had been racing in delicious terror; now she waited for it to slow. She could have handled this differently. Why hadn’t she? Didn’t he know how much she loved this life? He damned well did. She had no fears of the remoteness. What the heck was her job, anyway? Reading the news. What was the enormous satisfaction in that? She wanted a life. She wanted kids. She wanted to write. She wanted him. Surely he could see the sort of woman she was?
There were footsteps along the outside veranda. Heavy, purposeful footsteps. How the heck had he got up there? She leapt up from the bed, ready for anything.
“So you want to play. Is that it?” He was framed by the open French windows. He looked extraordinarily masterful, all strength and dominant sexuality.
“How did you do that?” she asked with some wonder. He had a few green leaves caught in his thick crow-black hair.
“Good question.”
“You climbed a tree?” Her voice was shaking with excitement.
“How else would I do it?” His brilliant eyes ranged over her. Her lovely face was surrounded by her bright cascading hair. It swirled over and around her shoulders. There was a high flush in her cheeks from excited blood. “I thought I was right,” he said. “You’re crying.”