'The thing is, we don't know,' Mary replied tautly. 'We only heard he was with a rescue team and got hurt.'
'Oh, no!' The room whirled and Sherry reeled. From a great distance she heard Mary saying urgently, 'Is there any brandy, do you think?'
Sherry fought her way back through the darkness enclosing her, trying to get a grip on herself. 'I'm all right,' she said faintly.
Simon returned with some brandy which Mary insisted she swallowed. Then she sent Simon off again to make some tea. 'Good and strong!' she called after him.
The brandy helped, but Sherry wished she hadn't fainted as she must have given too much away. She bit her lip hard to stop crying as she thought of the pain Scott might be in, but she failed to hide her distress from Mary.
Mary, as Sherry had suspected, knew more about her feelings for Scott than she had revealed. 'Stop worrying, Sherry,' she said with gentle asperity. 'You don't have to pretend to be brave with me. I guessed a long time ago that you're in love with him.'
After they had gone, Sherry went through another little hell with her conscience. Scott might have died, he must still be in danger. He had risked his life, been prepared to give it that others might live. He might just be one of those who had shown extreme courage and disregard for their own safety, in the present crisis, but it didn't make her feel any better that he had been prepared to give so much while she had been willing to give so little. When he had needed her, she had only thought of herself, and now she must be prepared to live with the knowledge of her own selfishness. The hours, maybe days, of waiting before it was discovered whether he was alive or dead, might be just punishment.
It was another twenty-four hours before Simon managed to discover where Scott was and learnt something of his condition. He had had an amazing escape, though he was suffering from concussion and burns and might be in hospital for a while.
Sherry would have given all she possessed to have been able to visit him. When Simon rang she almost wept. 'There must be some possibility of seeing him!' she cried desperately, but Simon was adamant. Scott, he said, absolutely forbade it.
If Scott hadn't arrived home at the end of the week, Sherry had been going to disregard such orders and go to Melbourne to see him, no matter how difficult it might prove to be. She was actually getting ready when Mary rang and said he was back.
'At—Coomarlee?' whispered Sherry, her throat so tight she could hardly speak.
'At Coomarlee,' Mary assured her gently.
The truck couldn't go fast enough. It was late evening and she had showered and put on a light robe before starting to get together a few things for the journey she had intended making in the morning. It was only necessary to put on a pair of clean jeans and she was ready.
Darkness was falling as she reached Coomarlee. Mrs Fox answered the door herself, a much kinder light in her eyes than Sherry had ever seen, as she quietly asked Sherry to come in.
'Scott…?' Sherry spoke his name, discovering painfully that it was all she could manage.
'Don't worry,' Mrs Fox spoke with unexpected gentleness, 'we've all been anxious, but he was hoping you would call. I'm just off to my own quarters, but he said, if you did come, to send you straight up.' As Sherry swayed, she added with concern, 'Can I make you some coffee or get you a drink?'
Numbly Sherry shook her head. 'Oh, no. No, thank you.'
'It's the door at the far end of the corridor,' Mrs Fox smiled. 'He's almost recovered—just a bit tired, I think.'
Sherry scarcely heard as she ran up the stairs. In the distance a door opened and closed, beyond the kitchen, as Mrs Fox left, but Sherry never paused.
Finding Scott's room, she thought vaguely that Mrs Fox wouldn't know she had been here before. She was hurrying straight in when she hesitated, flushed with doubt. Despite Mrs Fox's assurance, Scott might not be pleased to see her at this hour. He might not like it, anyway, if she barged straight in.
It was about her last coherent thought. Taking a deep breath, she knocked and received an order to enter. When she did and found him sitting in his bathrobe, reading some mail, she swayed dizzily.
'Sherry!' As she stood staring helplessly, he sprang to his feet, scattering letters carelessly on the floor. His face swam above her, pale, but as forceful as ever, then she was in his arms.
For a long moment they didn't speak, just held on to each other, as if just being near each other was enough. But instead of dissipating the desperate feeling between them, proximity increased it. Scott had been ill, but she forgot as the savage cruelty of his embrace crushed her with a fervour that mounted to a kind of mindless ferocity.
It was as if their bodies craved each other and had been too long apart. There was no room for tenderness and Sherry didn't even think of it. Scott's hand touched her throat, lifting her chin, his mouth finding hers with a driving force that made her whimper. She trembled at his burning need for satisfaction and felt him shaking against her.
'Do you love me?' he whispered hoarsely, and she groaned, 'Yes, I do,' knowing, whatever else happened, she could no longer deny the truth.
A moment later she was flung across the bed, his body following hers as they kissed urgently, both full of explosive desire. Sherry's one wish was to belong to him, and unconsciously she did everything to prove it. She wound her arms round his neck, clinging to him convulsively, mouth open, shuddering.
Scott began pulling off their clothes, hers first, then his. Within minutes their bodies were glazed with heat, their skin moist with perspiration. Sherry heard the harsh intake of his breath as his head burrowed between her breasts and she twisted restlessly, pressing herself closer. She was like a flame in his arms, her heart beating wildly under the heavier thunder of his. She heard him mutter something as his hands slid intimately over her and she felt her whole body leaping in hungry response.
His fingers circled her navel, then swept down her stomach, teasing unbearably. Giddily, when the sensation he was arousing grew too much to bear, she tried to break free of the sensuous web he was spinning so skilfully around her, but she was already trapped by the wild desire brought on by his touch. His other hand slid under her hips and she heard him groan as she melted against him, then coherent thought fled as he moved in ruthlessly to possess her.
She was helpless against his invasion and, for a brief moment, stunned by the pain of it, but as his mouth found hers again, her lips became soft and responsive as she was consumed by the demands of his powerful male body. Fiercely her hands gripped his bare brown shoulders and it was as though she had been taken over by some creature alien to herself. Feeling her surrender, Scott swept her along on an irresistible rush of sensation. She cried out as their bodies finally exploded in a volume of rapture so intense that she was rendered almost mindless by the force of it.
She must have fallen from a state of extreme reaction to a kind of drugged sleep, for when she woke, until she saw Scott lying beside her, she had no clear idea where she was. She remembered then how, after he had made love to her, he had started saying something but had seemed overwhelmed by a strange exhaustion. They must both have fallen asleep and slept soundly, although she didn't know for how long. For a moment she watched him, gazing intently at his beloved face. He looked tired but more relaxed than she had seen him, the lines about his eyes and mouth much erased.
She felt slow tears sting her eyes as she thought of the danger he had been in. A pang of remorse shook her that she hadn't even asked him how he was. Half dazed as she was with a complexity of emotions, it seemed she had again let him down. Mrs Fox had said he had hoped she would call, but instead of behaving in a proper manner and remembering how ill he had been— perhaps still was, she had rushed in here, thrown herself at him, and now, because of what had happened, he might easily have a relapse.
It appeared to Sherry that there wasn't a situation she could cope with at all well. She had assumed Scott would still want her, but now she would never know for sure. He had asked if she loved him and accepted her assurances that she did w
ithout giving any indication of his own feelings. He had been fighting fires and, apart from the injuries he had sustained, must be suffering from a certain amount of exhaustion and shock. Making love to someone had probably offered a kind of release which, in his weakened state, he had found impossible to resist.
Her cheeks hot, Sherry's head drooped. She had given in to him, met him more than halfway, even urged him on. Where were her high romantic principles now? She had offered herself to him shamefully, with a complete disregard of the consequences. She must have asked for all she got, and suddenly she couldn't bear to stay and witness his embarrassment when he woke up.
Stealthily she crept from his bed, refusing to allow herself to think any more of the ecstasy she had experienced there. She didn't take her clothes to the bathroom this time to put on, but dressed where she stood, trying, despite the clumsiness of her fingers, not to make a sound. She dared not kiss him, but forced herself to be content with a last yearning glance before hurrying from the house.
Outside it was dark and she paused briefly, lifting her taut face to a drift of stars, before, with a sigh, she got slowly into her truck and drove home.
At Googon, the next day trailed like a week. Most of it Sherry spent outside with the men, getting through her usual share of work. Scott never came near, nor did he ring, although when she got in that evening, Leda told her that Mrs Armstrong had rung twice.
'How is Scott?' asked Mary, without preamble, when Sherry rang back.
Sherry swallowed in an attempt to speak normally. 'I saw him last night and he—he doesn't seem too bad.'
'Oh.' Mary paused, sounding disappointed when Sherry didn't add anything, 'I—well, I did think you'd have more to tell me than that!'
Such as what? Sherry wondered bleakly. 'Why don't you go and see him yourself?' she suggested.
Again Mary hesitated. 'Simon and I thought of it, but when I rang, Mrs Fox said Dulcie Easten was visiting and would probably be there all day, and a little of Dulcie goes a long way!'
'As long as Scott's happy,' Sherry said flatly.
'Somehow,' Mary answered caustically, 'I can't see him improving much with her around!'
Going slowly to shower, before beginning to help Leda with dinner, Sherry felt increasingly chilled, the only sensation left in her breast that of pain. So Dulcie was with him after all. Oh, it was tempting to believe she could have called without being invited, as Sherry had done herself, last night, but only Scott could have asked her to stay all day. He hadn't been in touch with Googon and he wasn't sick enough to be unable to pick up a phone. This must be his way of letting her know that what had happened between them had meant nothing to him and it was Dulcie who really held a firm place in his affections. Sherry knew she had behaved foolishly and indiscreetly, but it was a lesson well learned. How horrified Mary would have been if she had said to her, 'I gave myself to him and now he doesn't want me.'
Late the following afternoon, she received a short missive from Kim. As she recognised his handwriting, Sherry's frozen heart warmed. She had been feeling curiously deserted. A letter from Kim, no matter how brief, reminded her that she wasn't entirely alone in the world.
She had opened it and was halfway through it before she realised she was slowly freezing again. 'It can't be true!' she gasped aloud, and began to re-read, but it seemed worse the second time. Numbly she wondered how she could have imagined it might be better. Blinking her burning eyes, she tried to take it in.
Kim was selling Googon. He had met this girl—he referred to her as a high-class bird—who didn't go for men who lived in shabby bed-sitters. Harold Gibson, he went on, was fair but stingy. On his present salary it might be years before he could afford anything decent in the way of accommodation, and, he declared, apart from anything else, he had had enough discomfort in Australia to last him a lifetime. After Googon was sold, he concluded, Sherry should be able to find work in either Sydney or Melbourne. He was still of the opinion that there was nothing for her in London, but if she did get stuck, she was to let him know.
Sherry felt so shaken that when Leda came to find her in the living-room, she asked anxiously if there was anything wrong. Sherry didn't answer directly. Wiping a tear from her cheek, she shook her head hastily. 'I'm going out again, Leda, I don't know for how long.'
Taking the truck, she turned in the direction of the river, driving blindly towards a favourite spot. She found it with the ease of long practice, a deep ravine, a few miles from the house. She pulled up beside some stunted trees and left the truck to sit under their leafy branches. Quite often it was beautiful here, but, today, everything was brown and withered in the terrifying heat. The grass was so dry that the wind blowing through it made it crackle, and Sherry wondered how long it might be before the devastating flames arrived from the south to swallow it up.
She watched the dull flow of the Darling with lustreless eyes, forcing herself painfully to consider the unenviable situation she was in. She felt terribly let down, both by Scott and Kim, though she had to admit what had happened at Coomarlee had been her own fault. Scott hadn't tried to get in touch with her and Dulcie had moved in. He must now consider her an embarrassment, if he ever thought of her at all, and no doubt would be relieved to hear she was leaving Googon.
The thing was, where could she go? She supposed she could stay for a while with Mary and Simon, but that wouldn't really solve anything. It might be better to do as Kim suggested and find something farther afield. Kim didn't mention money but she was sure he would leave her enough to see her through until she found a job? As a sob escaped her, she told herself severely not to be so self-pitying. She must be a lot better off than those who had lost everything in the terrible fires. The future might look grey and grim, but there must be a niche for her somewhere. Hadn't the idea of caring for people always appealed to her? Perhaps she could train as a nurse?
Despite trying to convince herself, with false humour, that all was not lost, another sob rose in her throat. This time she didn't try to fight it but flung herself wearily on the hard, baked ground and cried until she fell asleep. Her last vague thoughts were that she might feel better if she let some of the grief wash out of her system, instead of bottling it up.
It was like this that Scott found her, curled in a small, pathetic ball, her face still hot and damp with tears. He had followed her tracks with comparative ease, yet there was grim relief in his eyes as he stood looking down on her and several bitter curses on his lips. Then, sinking to her side with a smothered exclamation, he drew her carefully into his arms and gently shook her awake.
Sherry thought she must still be dreaming when she lifted heavy lashes and found herself gazing straight in Scott's eyes, 'Scott,' she whispered uncertainly, 'what are you doing here?'
His mouth tightened as her soft lips trembled. 'I came to find you.'
'It's not that,' she swallowed in an effort to speak clearly, to try to come to terms with the shock of wakening up and finding herself in his arms. 'I've been so dreadfully worried. You were hurt, you might have been killed. I never even asked how you were, and I've had the most terrible dreams…'
'Hush!' he broke through her feverish incoherence huskily, his arms drawing her protectively closer. 'I'm all right now, so are you, and from now on I'll keep you safe.'
'Safe?' His words penetrated oddly. 'How can you?'
'We're going to be married,' he said firmly, 'in a few days' time. I'll have every right to look after you then.'
Sherry's eyes filled with agonising tears. Scott wasn't asking if she would marry him; he was giving her no choice! She had always realised he wasn't a man to plead and argue, and in this respect he would never change. He had a lot of pride, though, and would never consider marriage lightly. It must be because of what had happened that he felt forced to ask a girl like her to be his wife. He would believe he must do the honourable thing.
'You—you can't marry me, Scott,' she stammered, her cheeks hot, 'Wh-what happened was as much my fault as yo
urs.'
Grimly his brows rose. 'You mean when we made love?'
Clenching taut hands, she nodded. 'I wanted you as much as you wanted me.'
His eyes darkened for a moment, as if he remembered. 'That has nothing to do with my proposal of marriage,' he said softly. 'That merely convinced me of what I'd already suspected, that I'll be getting a very responsive wife.'
Torn by shame, Sherry tried to push him away. 'I'll never know, will I? If I agreed to be your wife, I'd always feel you married me because you felt it was the right thing to do.'
'Sherry!' he exclaimed impatiently, still holding her in the circle of his powerful arms. 'If I told you I loved you, cared for you as I've never cared for anyone else, would you believe me?'
Her eyes, a troubled, clouded blue, cleared with a transparent kind of wonder. She knew he would never lie over something like that. 'Yes,' she breathed, 'I would.'
'Yes,' he said. 'Well, I do.'
She stared at him, realising incredulously that it was love she saw stamped on that proud, hard face. A strong, wholly encompassing, demanding love that might never change. And yet—'I still find it difficult to believe you intended marrying me,' she gulped.
Scott lifted his head, his eyes holding a compelling gleam of triumph. 'What would you say if I told you that I wanted to marry you long before I went away? If I could offer proof?'
'Proof?' she whispered.
'Yes, my little doubting Thomasina!' he growled, regarding her arrogantly. 'Simon Armstrong wouldn't tell you, because I asked him not to, but when the fires broke out in the south, I rang and asked him to look after you. I told him you were the girl I hoped to marry and exactly what I would do to him should he let anything happen to my future wife.'
Sherry felt a tremor run right through her. 'Oh, Scott!' she moaned, but suddenly, as though hungry for the touch of her lips, he pulled her tightly against him and began kissing her deeply, cutting off further words. Lacing his hands through her hair, he tilted her head back so his mouth could part hers, at first almost fiercely, then with a relentless gentleness that was equally ravishing. And all the time Sherry clung to him, feeling at peace but unbearably stirred and excited.
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