Hidden Fire

by Alexis Fleming

  With a smile, she tightened her hold on Jen’s hand. “Okay, kids, show me where this really big opal is. Who’s the adult supervisor for our group?”

  “I am.” Morgan appeared behind her.

  A shiver slid down Gili’s back. She hadn’t heard him move, although the prickling of her skin should have warned her. She could be blind and still sense when Morgan was near. Something about him sparked off a chain reaction inside her.

  “Okay, everyone, gather up your gear and let’s go noodling.” Morgan slung the backpack he held onto his shoulder and pointed to a mullock heap that sat at the opposite end of the gully from where the mine entrance was. “How about we try that one? I can see plenty of ironstone rocks there. Who knows? We might find some boulder opal.”

  Chattering and laughing, the children trooped across the camping area, pausing when they reached the edge of the gully. Then they dropped to their backsides and slid down the loose dirt of a conveniently placed mullock heap until they landed in the dust at the bottom of the gully. Morgan whooped and ran down the old mine workings to join the children.

  Jen had chosen to stay with Gili. Gili bent over and stared under the brim of the child’s hat. “You ready, Jen?”

  “I don’t want to slide,” Jen said with a decided wobble to her lower lip. She dropped her voice and whispered, “It hurts my bottom.”

  “I’m not surprised. I don’t think I want to trust my rear end to that either.” Gili chuckled. “You want to run down with me?”

  Jen nodded, although a sense of apprehension still clung to the little girl’s face. Gili tucked the pick and sieve tighter under her arm, and took a firmer grip on Jen’s hand. On the point of cracking a joke to make Jen smile, Gili suddenly snapped her mouth closed.

  A shiver trickled down her spine. The hairs on her arms stood up. Heat burst to life on her right shoulder and the feeling of pins and needles flowed across her pelican tattoo again.

  Someone was watching her.

  Who?

  Where?

  She twisted her head and stared back at the Aboriginal village. Adults, mainly parents, still carted the children’s luggage into the gunyahs. Some were tending the fire in the center of the village, preparing for lunch. Nothing seemed out of place. So why was she so spooked?

  Movement beside the gunyah closest to her and Jen drew Gili’s attention. A man, his back to her, pushed another male behind the shelter. She heard the rustling of bark and leaves as if someone brushed against the gunyah, and then silence. Neither person was visible, but two dark shadows coated the red dust and angled out from the bush building.

  One of the sun-cast shadows rippled as if alive. An elongated strip of the deepest black sheared off it and floated above the gunyah before subsiding again, disappearing behind the shelter.

  Jen tugged at Gili’s hand as if to urge her on, but Gili held still, the breath caught in her throat. Something about the back view of that man teased at her memories. The dark hair, and lean build. Not as tall as Morgan.

  She frowned as something else teased at her senses. An odor. Rank and stale with overtones of burning. That’s when the penny dropped and her mind engaged. Cigar smoke.

  Oh God. Did that mean…

  Jeremy Grissom?

  She fell back a pace, tottering on the edge of the mullock heap. Her mouth dried. Her heart pounded so hard she was sure it would crash through the wall of her chest. Last night she thought she’d seen someone who looked like Whitey Grissom, but had treated it as nothing but her imagination.

  But this? The pungent smell of Jeremy’s trademark cigar? She shook her head. Forget it. This was more than coincidence. Jeremy was here in Opalton and one bet who the second person hiding behind the gunyah was.

  Whitey Grissom, damn it.

  Fear sliced through her, followed by an immediate rush of adrenaline, driving out the worry and infusing her with determination. Her heartbeat accelerated even more and her respiration sped up. Sweat slicked her forehead and ran down the sides of her face.

  To hell with it, she was tired of this. She was sick of worrying, about her parents, about Morgan and about her own honor, because something told her that doing what Jeremy Grissom wanted was going to be far more difficult than she’d first envisaged.

  She pushed the though aside to be dealt with later. Right now, she meant to confront Jeremy and Whitey and tell them to get their asses out of here.

  Bending down, she pulled Jen close. “Honey, I need to do something. If you just sit here, I’ll take you down to the others in a minute. Okay?”

  The little girl nodded. Gili dumped her fossicking equipment beside the child, and after making certain Jen was safe, turned to face the gunyah. Adrenalin riding her, she started towards it.

  The smell of cigar smoke wafted from behind the gunyah and the breeze drove it to her. It caught in the back of her throat and set up an immediate tickle. Nerves in Gili’s throat protested the presence of the smoke passing through their habitat, and although she slammed her palm over her mouth, nothing could disguise the harsh cough that bubbled up and spewed out.

  A sudden rustling of leaves and branches from the back of the gunyah caught her attention. A sibilant male whisper floated amid the red dust and grated on Gili’s hearing. Then she saw two long shadows break free from the elongated dome-shaped shadow that represented the native shelter.

  She quickened her pace. Closed her mind to the sounds the other adults made while they worked about the village, and focused only on the movement of the dark outlines painted on the red ground. She rounded the gunyah to see two men disappear around the back of the bus that had ferried the children from Winton.

  She was right. Jeremy, and Whitey Grissom. She didn’t need to see their faces. Jeremy’s crop of white hair and the dark suit he habitually wore, despite the Australian heat, confirmed what she already knew. She hung her head, knowing she had no choice now. She had to talk to Morgan. Warn him the Grissoms were here in Opalton. And she’d have to tell him about her father’s accident and the threat to her mom. Would this destroy the sense of peace they’d managed to find over the last twenty-four hours? She prayed not.

  “Miss? Missy Gili? Are you coming?”

  Jen’s high-pitched voice cut through the sombre thoughts filling Gili’s mind. With a shake of her head, she looked at the little girl. “Sorry, sweetie. I was daydreaming.”

  She made her way back to Jen and gathered up the mining equipment. “Come on, munchkin, let’s go find that opal.”

  Jen in tow, Gili took the slope of the mullock heap at a run, the little girl slipping and sliding with her. Jen’s childish laughter lightened the feeling of dread in Gili’s heart. So much so, she was able to give at least a semblance of a smile by the time they reached Morgan and the rest of the children.

  “You okay?” Morgan moved up beside Gili, relieving her of the pick and sieve. “Look, if you don’t want to take part in the noodling, you don’t have to.”

  “Hey, I’m looking forward to it. Why would you think otherwise?”

  “You looked less than eager when you came down that dirt heap. Is anything wrong?” He titled his hat back and stared at her, a frown pulling at his brow. “In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you looked as if someone, or something, had spooked you.”

  “Miss?” Jen pulled at her hand.

  Gili gave Jen a quick smile before slanting a glance at Morgan. “Can we talk later?” she whispered. “It’s important.”

  “Does this have anything to do with the opal?” He lowered his voice so Jen couldn’t hear. When she nodded, he said, “Okay, later on when the kids aren’t around.”

  Gili’s mouth twisted in a grimace at the thought of Morgan’s reaction. She watched as Charlie and Narri joined the group, squatting down in the dust with the children. Charlie glanced at her and flashed a smile that rivalled the sun for brilliance.

  Without meaning to, she’d put these people in danger. Charlie and Narri had accepted her, despite her quest
for something they held sacred. The opal. The Dreamtime Fire. Charlie knew her intention to take it away, but still he’d opened his heart to her.

  Her gut churned as guilt ate at her. Somehow, she had to put this right, without placing her parents, and Morgan, in any more danger.

  “Hey, Missy Gili, come over here and we’ll teach you all about noodling.”

  Charlie’s voice cut through Gili’s thoughts. Fixing a smile on her face, she dropped to her knees beside him. “Okay, Charlie, show me how to find an opal.”

  Charlie took a pick, the handle no more than a foot long, and chipped away at the hard-packed soil. “Different ways to mine around here. Used to be all shafts, but the government don’t allow a man to do that any longer. So the prospectors started doing open-cut mines. Kinda like scraping the soil from the top of the land and digging down until they found what they wanted. Then the soil was usually dumped in a puddler.”

  “Which is?” Gili enquired, intrigued by the history lesson.

  “It’s like a big drum with mesh on the sides. A motor rotates the drum as water is added, turning the dirt into slush. And what’s left when all the soil is washed away, Piri?” He cut a glance across to his grandson.

  “Rocks and stones,” Piri called out as he dug into the soil with his bare hands.

  “And what else? Anyone know?” Morgan interrupted, squatting down on the other side of Gili.

  One of the other children jumped up and down on the spot, waving her hand in the air. “I know, I know. The opal nobbies.”

  “That’s right.” Charlie scooped the loose soil into a sieve and started shaking it until the soil fell through and the rocks and other hard matter remained. “What we’re doing here today is going over the remains left by other miners. We can’t do any puddling because we don’t want to waste water, but if you’re lucky, you’ll find some traces of color in these dirt heaps.”

  He ran his fingers through the small chunks of rock in the sieve, picking up a dark, rounded stone that he handed to Gili. “See that? An opal nobby. That’s an opal formed naturally in the rock, rather than part of an opal seam.”

  Morgan took the stone from her and balanced it on another, larger rock. He took his pick and tapped at it until the nobby split in two. Then he handed the two halves back to her, a grin on his face. “Your opal, Ma’am.”

  Vivid blue with flashes of green, bordered by solid black, filled the center of the stone. The harsh sunlight enhanced the depth of color in the opal. Gili was entranced. The bright hues called to her, but not as much as the kaleidoscope of colors that had appeared to her within the mine.

  “You have a go, Missy Gili. Who knows what you might find.” Charlie handed her the sieve and a small shovel.

  Gili scooped the loose soil up and dumped it in the sieve. Using both hands, she tilted it on one side and then the other, trying to make the fine soil drop through the wire mesh. All she managed to do was to dump half the contents back on the ground.

  Morgan laughed and scooted in behind her. He spread his legs either side so Gili sat cradled in the juncture of his thighs. Reaching his arms around her, he covered her hands with his.

  “Don’t tilt it,” he said. “Just rock it from side to side. Little shakes.”

  He showed her how to do it and then took his hands away, but remained where he was. “Now you try.”

  Gili fought to concentrate, but all she could think about was the warmth of Morgan’s body seeping into hers. His muscled thighs and the hard ridge of flesh nestled against her backside. Hormones went into a meltdown and fire spiked through her veins.

  She gave a startled gasp at how quickly he’d turned her on. She wanted to face him. Wrap her arms about his neck and twine her legs about his hips. She hungered to rip their clothes off so there was nothing separating them.

  She gulped. Concentrate, Gili, concentrate. She had to remind herself there were children present. “Ah, okay, let’s try this again.”

  Shaking the sieve, she watched as the soil disappeared, exposing the stones and pebbles. She couldn’t see one speck of color amid the browns and near-blacks of the ironstone and sandstone. She held the pan out so Morgan could check it out.

  He trailed one long finger through the offering. “Sorry, nothing there. Have another shot. Try for some of the soil higher up.”

  Gili grabbed the pick and reach above her head, chipping away at the mound of mullock. The recent rains had compacted the earth and it took more effort than she’d thought it would.

  The first of the dirt tumbled down and then the pick dug in, refusing to give way to her tug. She yanked on it and the clump of earth came free with a rush. She lurched backwards, coming to a stop against Morgan’s firm chest. The soil cascaded down, spraying both Gili and Morgan, and Charlie on the other side.

  “Hey, Missy Gili, my skin’s already brown enough,” Charlie quipped, a grin flashing across his face. “Don’t need no more.”

  Gili burst out laughing as Charlie brushed the dirt from his face and hair. “Sorry.”

  She flicked a grin over her shoulder at Morgan. “Good thing I was already sitting or I would have ended up on my fanny in the dust.”

  There was dead silence for an instant. Then Charlie and Morgan roared with laughter. Narri giggled behind her hand. Even the children were covering their faces and sniggering.

  “Ooh, Missy Gili, you baad,” Narri said.

  “Miss said a rude word,” Jen lisped.

  “I did?”

  Morgan draped his arms over her shoulders and pressed his cheek against hers. “Here’s a short lesson in Australian slang. I know in the States that fanny is your rear end, right?”

  Gili nodded, still trying to work out what she’s said wrong.

  “Well, over here in Australia, use the word fanny and you’re not referring to your butt. Think about, ah, something else…um, same general location, but a little more towards the front of the body.”

  It took a minute for that to filter through Gili’s brain. When it did, she gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth. She twisted to stare at Morgan, a flush of heat climbing her face. “You mean—”

  He nodded, the grin still fixed to his face. “Have to be careful with the local lingo here.”

  “Oh, dear.”

  Charlie reached across and patted her hand. “It’s okay. I won’t wash your mouth out this time.”

  He turned back to the children. “Now come on, kids, who’s gonna find the next opal?”

  Gili’s faux pas forgotten, the children set about fossicking for any precious traces of opal. Gili joined in, but she couldn’t focus on the task. All she could think about was the feel of Morgan’s hands on her hips. His heat reaching out to her. The intoxicating scent of man and spicy aftershave. And constantly, on the fringes of her mind, the worry about Whitey and Jeremy.

  Lunchtime came and Gili joined the children in the center of the village. The women set to work cooking hamburgers and filling rolls with salad and the cooked patties. Gili had finished her burger and was wiping her hands on a paper towel when Morgan appeared by her side.

  “Ready for a walk to work off lunch?” He passed her a bottle of water and took her hand, guiding her away from the campsite.

  “What about the kids?”

  “The parents are supervising them for the afternoon. They’re going to learn about making gunyahs and weaving grasses into things the Aborigines used in the old days.”

  “Such as?” Gili asked as Morgan walked her through the mullock heaps closest to the mine entrance.

  “Baskets for storing food and other items, baby carriers, kind of like those backpack things women use today, a whole range of useful items. The Aborigines lived off the land so nothing was wasted.”

  Morgan retained hold of Gili’s hand as he raced them down the side of the mullock heap to the bottom of the gully. At the base, he pulled her to a halt. “Want to sit for a moment?”

  Gili lowered herself to the red soil and used the mullock heap as a
backrest. Morgan squatted down in front of her.

  “Time to talk, I guess,” she said, looking over Morgan’s shoulder instead of at his face. She wasn’t certain she wanted to see his anger when she told him about Whitey and Jeremy.

  “Why don’t I make it easier for you?” He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to speak. “When you first turned up, I was seriously pissed off. You figured you could waltz in here and take off with the Dreamtime Fire, and for Jeremy Grissom of all people. I mean, what’s wrong with this picture? You say you can’t stand the man, but you’re working for him?”

  “Morgan, it—”

  He cut her off with a sweep of his hand. “No, hear me out. I was stupid enough to believe his bullshit about you being the one who set up the sting in Iran. It took a while for the truth to filter through this thick brain of mine even after you told me you weren’t responsible. But I still couldn’t get past the fact you were actually working for him.”

  “I didn’t have a choice,” she murmured, looking anywhere but at Morgan.

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m beginning to think. Every time Grissom’s name was mentioned, you’d get this look on your face. The same type of look you have right now.”

  He slid his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up to him. “Worried. More than that, scared stiff. What’s he holding over you, Gili?”

  “I told you the truth. I’m doing this for my dad. His last commission, and then the Grissoms are out of his life for good. What I didn’t tell you is that Dad tried to get out of this commission, but Jeremy wouldn’t let him walk away. Hell, he made certain Dad couldn’t walk at all.”

  Morgan frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  Gili pushed herself to her feet and started to pace. “I took this on because Dad had fallen into the path of a car and busted his leg. What I didn’t know until I saw Dad and Mom at the hospital is that Whitey pushed Dad under that vehicle’s wheels. Dad’s lucky he wasn’t killed.”

  “Bloody hell, woman,” Morgan roared. “Why the heck didn’t you tell me all this in the beginning?”