Vicki obeyed wordlessly, for once, but was unable to look at him. Things seemed to be pressing painfully on her subconsciousness, as if waiting to be released, but as before, she didn't yet feel able to face them.
Unable to read her remote face, Wade let out a sigh of impatience as he left her. Five minutes later, however, just when the tearful feeling of being deserted was going, he surprised her by returning with a plate of soup.
'Out of a tin,' he told her, 'but none the worse for that. You could have mentioned that you hadn't had lunch.' After he had finally gone Vicki ate the soup, astonished to find she was hungry. Knowing this must be a sure sign of returning health, she felt slightly happier as she lay back against cool, clean pillows and drowsily watched transparent rays of glistening sunlight playing on the opposite wall. Seeing no curtains at the window, Wade hadn't offered to hang the pair which lay waiting, but he had draped a dark sheet half over the glass to keep out the worst of the burning sun. There was no wind, no sound her mind could contemplate in the soft silence around her. She tried to think about Graham but felt her thoughts clinging wholly to her husband. Uneasily she wondered Why he should suddenly be becoming more important to her than her son. j Wade had told her he had to go out again, although she wasn't sure why he had told her this. Even if things had been different between them she wouldn't have expected I him to stay in. The boss,-as the owner of a cattle station was usually known in the Outback, had to be a man with definite qualities, not least among them being a strong will to survive, a tough physique; iron nerves and a good knowledge of self-defence. In Wade McLeod there were all these qualities and more, but it was this hardness which still defeated her.
He had brought her tea and soup and, she supposed, in his way, been kind to her, but this must only disguise a disinclination to have another invalid on his hands. It must be up to her to prove she was far from sickly, but, with the feeling of his hands still on her, she found her thoughts growing wistful.
She dozed-then woke, to find her thoughts continuing exactly where they had left off. In Melbourne she had been usually too busy to do much thinking and, at night, too exhausted to do anything but fall into a dreamless sleep. Now, for the first time in years, it seemed she had time to reflect but was reluctant to do so. For all she tried to occupy herself with other things she always returned to Wade.
Being in the office that morning had somehow taken her sharply back to the evening he had asked her to marry him. She wondered if any girl had ever received a stranger proposal. It must certainly have been unusual, with Wade, her would-be fiancé, in a terrible temper, and she herself too frightened to be able to say no.
He had been slamming on the brakes of a Land-Rover when she had glanced up startled from the letter she had been typing. It was for the Old Man and she should have had it done earlier in the day, but she had been helping Mrs. Clover.
'Oh, hello,' she had said uncertainly, very young and very nervous as he had crashed in through the door. She didn't suppose she had ever looked plainer, with her hair only an hour ago sheared even shorter, in the vain hope that it would help her feel cooler, her face devoid of make-up and a shabby shirt clinging to over-thin shoulders.
He had towered above her, all six foot two of him, deeply tanned and lean with grey eyes and smooth dark hair, distinguished in a disturbing way. He hadn't asked if it was convenient, or if she was busy, which she obviously was. He had simply stood looking at her for some extremely long moments before ordering her to come with him.
'But why?' she had gathered enough courage to falter, already more aware of him than she cared to admit. She had been ever since he had kissed her, although she had tried to convince herself she had forgotten all about it.
'Don't argue, Vicki!' he had dismissed her nervous query ruthlessly as he had grasped her arm, the steely hardness of his voice and fingers conveying more than a hint of his inner fury.
Apprehensively she hadn't seemed able to prevent him from almost thrusting her into the waiting vehicle. She had shrunk into a corner but stayed silent as he had driven swiftly down across the creek, over plains and down gullies, up hillsides covered by what seemed to her dangerous loose pebbles until, at the edge of another dried up creek, he had stopped. As if he had managed to get rid of a little of his anger by such rough driving, he had pulled up in the shade of some trees which in turn were overshadowed by one of the huge red boulders which had once formed part of a mountain range.
There he had turned, after switching off the engine, and asked her to marry him. In the blank silence which followed she remembered thinking this must be something which happened every day, but nowhere, she guessed, could there have been a more businesslike proposal!
In the brief lead up to it, he asked abruptly if she liked living here. The question might have sounded casual, but as he had spoken to her he had stared at her closely, as if her answer was all-important. She had been glad to be able to say truthfully that she loved it. It was, she had sensed, what he wanted to hear, but she had had to search harder when he had asked her why. Eventually she had to confess that she wasn't sure. As she blinked at him doubtfully, wildly exaggerated reasons had flashed through her bewildered head, seeming all the more fanciful because they were true. In the end she had just shaken her head and said helplessly, 'Because I do.'
Somehow that short sentence, uttered so compulsively, had seemed to convince him more than a feverish flow of words might have done. He had apparently been satisfied, for it was then that he had asked her to marry him. Vicki could still recall the leashed impatience in his voice, the glitter in his eyes which had convinced her instinctively that he would rather have ordered than asked, if he had thought he could have got away with it.
Vicki had found herself trembling under his grim, waiting appraisal. It had been difficult at first to believe he could be serious. Wade McLeod, who could perhaps have his pick of the women in the Territory, proposing to Vicki Neilson who was, without doubt, a plain little nobody. Why, his grandfather would throw a fit, and she couldn't altogether blame him!
Wide-eyed, she gazed at him. 'Why me, of all people?'
she had whispered. 'You' she had found it difficult to go on but it had to be said, 'you don't love me, and you know so many really beautiful women.' Briefly, as a sudden pain struck her, she had closed her eyes.
'I'll tell you why I want you for my wife, Vicki,' Wade had said curtly, 'and you can open those huge blue eyes of yours and look as shocked as you like. It's because I'm sick to my very soul of the way my grandfather continually parades these women whom you consider so beautiful in front of me. Prospective wives to meet the future needs of Baccaroo. He knows I don't intend marrying because of the past, but he never lets up. I never know who's going to turn up next. He insists on disrupting my life unceasingly. Someone is coming tomorrow whom I've no particular fancy to entertain, and I'm determined to put an end to it. I believe marrying someone like you is the only possible way.'
Vicki had been struck speechless by that for a moment. Her poise, never very secure when this devastating man ' was around, deserted her. At last she had turned up her face to him, her eyes indeed enormous. 'Sometimes you seem to like talking to these women.' It was as good as admitting she watched him, but she had felt too strung up to care.
'I'm only human, Vicki,' he'd replied cynically. 'I find it difficult to be less than polite, and occasionally see no reason to deprive myself of what's often so freely offered, with no strings attached.'
She had frowned, not knowing quite what to make of that. 'One of these days you might feel .tempted to marry one of them, if you wait. You might' she hesitated, wondering why it should seem so ridiculous to suggest to Wade McLeod that he might possibly come to really care for somebody. 'You might fall in love.'
"Not a chance.' His mouth had twisted derisively. I don't believe in it, for one thing, and I'm determined to avoid any kind of warmer relationship for another. You must trust me to know what I'm doing, Vicki.'
Becau
se he was older and consequently vastly more experienced, she felt he must be right. Love was a thing for books, the imagination, not for everyday life. At best it might only be a strong physical attraction. A man as bitter and hard as Wade McLeod might not even set much store by that.
As she nodded silently to his last comment he spoke with such emphatic coldness she shrank. 'I'm going to marry you, Vicki, if only to see the look on the Old Man's face, not because I have any particular feelings for you.'
'Wade!' Vicki's face had paled before such a cold-blooded declaration, but she dared whisper, 'Mrs. Clover told me a little about your family history. Don't you think it's about time you forgave your grandfather? I don't say forget, but I think if you were to take a fresh look at what happened, through adult eyes, you might understand his anxiety. After all, you were very young when your father died, too young perhaps to appreciate that your grandfather's motives, through mistaken, were only human.'
'Shut up!' Wade retorted, very coldly and crisply. 'If you're quite finished! We won't talk of this again, if you don't mind. A man in his thirties doesn't have to listen to advice from foolish little girls. In future it will pay you to remember.'
She had laughed, then, on a note of rising hysteria, with anger bringing feverish waves of colour to her cheeks, giving her, had she bat known it, a kind of transient beauty which, for a moment, appeared to narrow his eyes warily. . 'This must be one of the strangest proposals a girl has ever had to listen to,' she had cried.- r '
It had been the wrong thing to say. If certainly hadn't disconcerted him. He had simply stared at her, as if she was the one being unreasonable. 'But this isn't an ordinary proposal. You realise, Vicki, ours wouldn't be a normal marriage?'
'Well, I won't marry you, either way.'
His mouth had merely curled in contempt. His hands had reached for her shoulders as if he wanted to shake sense into her—and quickly. In his eyes she had seen her own distress reflected clearly in the cold, icy grey. If you don't marry me, what have you to go back to?' he had asked harshly. "No job, no home, your nearest relations, if you have any, in England.'
'You've been checking!'
'Why not? An eye for detail has always given me what I wanted, in the end.'
Vicki stirred restlessly on the hard bed, wishing she could sleep, so she might black out the shameful memory of how easily she had capitulated. Eventually she hadn't been able to face a future as empty as he had pointed out and, in agreeing to marry him, she had managed to convince herself that her motives were no more selfish than his. Most of all, though, she hadn't been able to resist the temptation of being able to stay on at Baccaroo. And with Wade! Unhappily she acknowledged, now, that she had already been half in love with him, only she hadn't realised that until it was too late.
A week later they had been married. They had flown into Alice Springs and there, in the .Centre, as Alice was popularly known, she had become Mrs. Wade McLeod. It had been quick and painless—painless, perhaps, because she had been too numb to feel anything. Not even the brief, hard kiss Wade had planted on her surprised mouth after the short ceremony had made any difference. That might only have been for the sake of appearances—the one thing he was always so insistent about.
She had moved in a kind of dream, she had done ever since Wade had driven her back to Baccaroo, after she had accepted his proposal. He had ordered her not to say anything to anyone, which hadn't been a difficult order to obey, fear if nothing else having kept her lips sealed.
It had, she had thought at the time, been one of the most difficult weeks in her life. The lady visitor who had been indirectly responsible for Wade's engagement had arrived and Vicki had been subject to her charming intolerance—so much so that Vicki had occasionally been tempted almost beyond everything to tell her she was going to marry Wade. She had been forced to run after Miss Barrie hand and foot as the lady had no patience with the aborigine girls. Throughout it all Wade had remained so distant, Vicki decided he must be regretting the whole thing, and for days had alternated between unhappiness and relief. It hadn't been until he had told her, the night before, to be ready to leave for Alice in the morning that she had realised he had meant every word.
The actual ceremony had been brief and they had returned to Baccaroo that same evening. It had all been so easy in the end, but there had been moments Vicki still wanted to forget. Like when old Mr. McLeod had found her running downstairs and asked where she was going, dressed up like that'. She had only had on a plain little dress in blue, but she had thought she had looked very nice, yet under the Old Man's ruffled stare any self-confidence had faded guiltily and she hadn't been able to think of a thing to say.
It had been left to Wade to tell him curtly that he and Vicki were going to Alice for the day. And the astonishment on the Old Man's face had only been surpassed by the fury which had replaced it, when they had returned and he had discovered the true reason for their trip.
At the last minute, Vicki had suddenly come to her senses. She was attracted to Wade and sure she loved the life out here if nothing else, but what was there going to be in this marriage for Wade?. Wouldn't marriage to a girl he had no real feelings for only-increase the bitterness which seemed to consume him? It was little use trying to convince herself that because in every other way he was absolutely normal, this feud with his grandfather wasn't a big thing in his life. A wife who had to take second place to this, in a loveless marriage, might soon rue the day she had agreed to it.
She had stopped, pulling urgently on his arm as they had walked quickly down the main street. 'Wade,' she had said breathlessly, as he had halted to look down at her enquiringly, 'there's still time to change your mind. Somehow I'm beginning to wonder if this is such a good idea.'
'It's a bit late, isn't it?' Again, as he had done before leaving Baccaroo, he had surveyed her upraised face intently. 'I don't want to change my mind, but does this mean you've changed yours?'
'No, that is ... I just think ...'
'Come on, then!' His regard, which she had suddenly imagined to be tinged with a reluctant tenderness, had changed grimly. 'You'll get through the day better, Vicki, if you do no more thinking. All you need remember is one word, which I don't think should tax you too much.'
"You mean—yes?'
'Wonderful!' he had exclaimed sarcastically, and she had been glad when Doctor Evans had joined them.
Doctor Evans had been their only witness and even he had looked far from persuaded that he was witnessing a love match. Wade had obviously been in touch with him, but it was at Vicki the doctor had kept glancing, as if something about her pale young face bothered him. He had been kind; in fact Vicki very much doubted if she could have got through the service without him. She had found his kindly presence more reassuring than that of the dark, enigmatic man who became, with a few short sentences, her husband. After the ceremony the quiet of the afternoon had disintegrated suddenly as news of the wedding had broken out. In spite of all Wade's careful precautions, they had been surrounded by his friends and acquaintances, some of whom confessed frankly that they had flown in specially when they had heard over the radio network. Curiosity as well as smiles had etched their eager faces as they had looked Yield over, the girl who had captured one of the Territory's most eligible bachelors. If many of them had · been rather stunned by Yield's youth and plain appearance, there had been few who hadn't wished them well.
By direct contrast the row which had followed their immediate return to the station had never faded completely from Vicki's mind. For all she had realised the wrath Wade would incur by marrying a girl like herself, she had found herself terribly dismayed. Mercifully the Old Man hadn't heard over the transceiver, but when Wade had told him he and Vicki were married, she had feared he was about to have a stroke. She had heard of such things happening in the elderly, after a shock, and for a moment, knowing he had done this deliberately, she had hated Wade. It had come to her too late that the Old Man, whatever he had done, could not have deserved
this. His face had gone a horrible red and he had choked but, as she had started with alarm and remorse, he had told her he would never acknowledge her as Wade's wife.
It was then that Wade, with his grandfather spluttering and Mrs. Clover hovering anxiously in the background, had ordered her to leave them, to go upstairs and wait in his room. Vicki had never known exactly what took place between the two men after that. She hadn't dared ask and Wade never told her, but afterwards, although cold, the Old Man had been civil. She hadn't had to endure the acrimony she had feared, and for this she supposed she had Wade to thank. It was old Mr. McLeod's so transparent disappointment which had often almost caused her to break down:
She had expected Wade would want her to continue sleeping in her old room, but in this she found herself mistaken. He had told her at once to fetch her things and put them in his bedroom, that she could use his bed while he would sleep in the adjoining dressing-room. This way no one would realise they were not sleeping together.
Wade had dismissed her anxious enquiries about his grandfather with an indifferent shrug of his broad shoulders. 'He would have liked a big society wedding, to have seen me walking down the aisle with a beautiful, well-known bride. He's disappointed, that's all. But not as much as he's going to be when we don't produce the great-grandchildren he's waiting for.'
Vicki had found it impossible to hide her feelings any longer. Her abhorrence of the situation, her wounded pride and humiliation, had shown on her face. 'In a way, Wade, I'm beginning to think you're just as despicable as he is! I—I feel sorrier for him than you.'
Wade's eyes had glinted, but he had merely given another shrug. 'Calm down, girl. Your sympathy is misplaced. He'll recover, given time.'
Vicki had shuddered. She had stood staring at him, a slightly incongruous figure in her now crumpled blue dress. The sick feeling at the bottom of her stomach told her this was all wrong, but because she had married Wade willingly, for all the wrong reasons, it must be right that she should suffer. Frowning down on her cheap blue dress, she had seen herself instead in a long white bridal gown and veil, on the arm of a smiling, handsome bridegroom. She pictured a reception, an adoring husband by her side—had seen the clouds of confetti, later, as they had started out on their honeymoon. Then the children. Intuitively she had known she could love any number of them, if they belonged to Wade.
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