She, Tammy McCauley, was being ravished and she gloried in it.
Inch by inch, Travis slowly and methodically worshipped her nakedness, evocatively plundering until she couldn’t take any more. ‘Trav. Enough. Please,’ she begged.
A soft laugh came from somewhere near her feet. She had had no idea her toes could be so sensually exquisite.
And then he was there. Right above her. Finally. The firm flesh of his chest meeting her sensitive swollen breasts, flattening them as he delved for her lips, rendering kisses on her mouth with a passion that, after his adoration of the rest of her, nearly drove Tammy over the edge.
Until suddenly he drew back.
Hovering, his intense and roving gaze took in her flushed cheeks, the want and need in her gaze, the feelings and passion laid bare in them for him to see. Myriad expressions flitted with the lightness of butterfly wings across his face, until finally wonder settled in.
‘Oh, Tammy,’ he whispered. ‘I think I’m in love with you.’
Tammy smiled. A soft smile. She drank in the sight of the man above her, the love beaming from his eyes. Here was a man who’d never thought it would happen again for him. She treasured this moment. For Hunter would never carry his heart on his sleeve like she did, but she could deal with that.
With Travis Hunter by her side, she could deal with anything.
And now they had some serious loving to do . . .
Sometime later, after Tammy had fallen asleep, her hair splayed across the pillow, face soft with slumber, Travis Hunter lay and watched her. He couldn’t remember his heart feeling as full as it did right now. Looking down on this beautiful, incredible woman. And he’d nearly lost her. Just like he’d nearly lost the other most important thing in his life. Billy. He still had to sort that one out, but with this woman beside him, he felt as though he could conquer the world. They’d do it together, but right now . . .
He slipped from the bed. Pulled on his jeans, padded out through the old house, onto the verandah, into the kitchen. Found the phone, picked up the handset and was rewarded with a dial tone.
He immediately rang Joe.
‘McCauley.’
‘Joe, it’s Trav. Where’s Billy?’
‘I’m fine too, thanks, how are you?’ said Joe, a chuckle to his voice.
‘Joe!’
‘Argh, can’t an old man have some fun? Billy’s fine, he’s here with me.’
Trav sagged with relief.
‘We’re tryin’ to set another rabbit trap. This one’s a bit rusty. Been up in the shed rafters for a time; that’ll do it to a fine piece of machinery.’
‘So he’s with you?’ repeated Trav, just to make sure.
‘That’s what I said, isn’t it?’ Joe’s tone was kind but gruff. ‘It’s a long story but he’s come home and that’s what counts.’
Trav couldn’t speak for a few moments.
‘You still there?’ asked the old man.
Trav took a few deep breaths to get a hold of himself. ‘Yeah, I’m still here,’ he said.
‘Hunter. He’s fine. Now if you don’t mind, we’ve got some serious things to be doin’. A man’s gotta do what a man’s gotta do. Might pay you to remember that.’
Trav leaned back against a nearby wall and chuckled. ‘No worries, McCauley. Take care of him for me, won’t you? Until I can get there, that is.’
‘I’ll take as good a care of him as I would me own grandson. That do ya? Now piss off. We got work to do and I’m guessing you’ve got a bit to be doing yourself.’ The old man’s laugh was wicked.
‘You spying on us?’
‘Me? Nooo. I’d never do that. Might take a bit of a look now and then, but I’d never spy. Leave all that mumbo-jumbo to young Billy.’
‘Thanks, Joe.’
‘For what?’
‘You know,’ said Trav, trying to find the words. ‘Everything.’
‘Piss off, Hunter.’
‘I’m going.’
‘Good.’ And the phone clunked in his ear.
So Billy was safe, and what’s more he was still up there on McCauley’s Hill, right where he was supposed to be. Travis didn’t have to go searching high and low for Katrina and his son. He slid to the floor and closed his eyes. Sat there for a while, just breathing and thanking God it had all turned out all right.
It took a little time but another thought struck him. Something said on a night around a fire drum. Forever is a long time to live with regret. Wasn’t that what old Joe said?
He stood up, stared hard at the phone. Thinking. Would the bloody thing work again, and did he remember the number to dial?
He picked up the receiver and breathed a sigh of relief when he heard the dial tone. He allowed his fingers to walk across the numbers of their own accord, trusting instinct and memory wouldn’t send him wrong.
At the other end of the line a phone started to ring.
He counted under his breath.
One, two, three . . . He’d give it to ten and if no one answered he’d hang up.
On number eight, someone picked up the call.
Travis Hunter sucked in a breath.
‘Homeview Station,’ said the deep male voice.
‘Danny? It’s Travis . . .’
Epilogue
Six months later . . .
They were all gathered on McCauley’s Hill. Deano and Cin had just arrived, the new dog they’d brought creating havoc with the party decorations Billy had put up. Streamers and balloons fastened at an ten-year-old’s level were bliss for a four-month-old kelpie-cross. Joe could hear Billy’s screams of laughter and knew disaster had struck without even looking along the verandah. The bang of a balloon confirmed it.
The occasion was Joe’s ninetieth birthday. And they were having a barbecue to celebrate the occasion, much to the old man’s feigned disgust and displeasure. But underneath it he was as happy as a pig in shit. He had them all together again. Over the last six months this group had spent time helping Tammy put Montmorency back to rights after the big flood. It was worth celebrating his birthday just to say thank you, especially since now he had a vested financial interest in the property. It was only right.
He rocked back in his chair and glanced across at Tammy, who was laughing at something Lucy had said to Alice. When had Lucy not had something ridiculous to say? But his niece was also sneaking glances down at Trav, who, ably assisted by Billy, was cooking the meat for lunch on a hotplate over a campfire. The girl was happy and that meant a lot to Joe. Ever since she’d accepted his offer of a financial partnership to save Montmorency, they’d been working hard to pull the old place back together. It had given him an inordinate amount of pleasure to see the old boundaries reinstated, with his place and Tammy’s now rejoined as one working property.
The girl was doing a good job managing the lot. With Hunter’s help of course. The former boundary rider had cut his dog trapping hours back to part-time in order to be a better father and farmer. He worked side by side with Tammy now and practically lived at Montmorency Downs. The ute was often there overnight. Billy was on his way to getting the whole Big Mac.
Funny how he’d mellowed in this last little while. Maybe it was turning nine decades old. But then, he admitted to himself, maybe it was his newfound partnership with Tammy. It’d helped him to let go of all the old hurts and feelings of betrayal and pain. He was happy to see the back of them really. They’d never done him much good anyway. And he couldn’t help but quietly hope Tom was looking down approving of it all.
He gazed out across at his kingdom, his eyes lingering near the front fence on a small white cross emblazoned with the word BOOTS, before skipping across to the blue, hunched line of rugged mountains. They staggered drunkenly across the horizon, immense and solid in their intent to boundary this part of Gippsland from the rest of Australia. He took in the mid-af
ternoon blaze of sunlight that was spreading its rays out across Mount Cullen and the ranges beyond. It was dazzling when the sky did this. Like God was beaming down on his magnificent creation, saying, ‘Gee, look at this. See what I did, isn’t it beautiful?’
His eyes then drifted out across the irrigated valley of Narree. After the flood receded, the open plains had slowly returned to their patchwork quilt of brilliant emerald green and rich brown. The river, like silver thread, winding through properties, made its way down to the sea. Joe sighed. Things were as they should be. Everything was in order. He felt . . . What? His thoughts fumbled for the word. He felt, well, content. He didn’t think he’d ever experienced that feeling in his long life before.
His gaze then slipped back to the world that was Montmorency Downs – both the irrigated flats and McCauley’s Hill now. And he could see the gate that led across the paddocks and down the hill to his old home, Tammy’s place. The gate which, like many others on the hill, had for so long hung open, leaning sideways and naked. It was now standing proudly straight, closed and latched.
But hang on, someone was coming through it. Joe squinted his eyes, trying to see through what looked like a swirl of grey mist. It was a woman. He could see the outline of her dress. She undid the latch, let herself through. Closed it again. Then she turned and Joe caught his breath.
It was Nellie. A glint of white to the left and there was Boots, gambolling around at her feet just like in the old days, when she’d dig in the vegie garden beside the house.
And behind her came . . . Mae.
Walking towards him, through the long grass. She was smiling. Laughing. And there . . . Oh my Lord, there was Tom, his elder brother, like Joe had never seen him before. Tall, strong and erect, walking free of the shackles of responsibility. A smile on his face, striding hand in hand with his wife.
They were all still coming towards him as he sat in his chair. Not realising what he was doing, Joe got up and left the verandah, drawn by what, he didn’t know. Maybe it was their smiles? Their beckoning arms? He walked easily down the steps and across the yard, through the paddock of long spring grass flowing like a river in the wind.
Nellie was now holding hands with Mae. They’d left Tom and Boots behind, waiting near a solid old fence post. Tom was throwing a stick to the dog and Boots was loving it, running backwards and forwards, bouncing and yapping. Only thing was, Joe couldn’t hear the dog. Maybe he was too far away?
The women kept coming. Closer and closer, swinging their arms in an exaggerated way, giggling, hips swinging in perfect concerto, moving towards him. Then they were right there, in front of him. Smiling. Laughing. Nodding. Beckoning him to come.
‘Joe?’ said Mae, in her beautiful, lyrical voice. ‘Joe!’
Then, ‘Travis! Luce! It’s Joe, come quick!’
Joe looked around. Travis and Lucy weren’t anywhere to be seen. What was Mae talking about? He looked back at the women. Gazed questioningly at Nellie. She was smiling. His wife indicated he should take Mae’s offered hand while she took his other one and turned it over. Felt for his pulse.
‘Oh, Joe . . .’ Mae said again.
It really was her, Joe thought in amazement. The voice rang with the seductive and unmistakeable tones of Mae Rouget. And it really was Nellie. His Nellie.
‘Oh Joe . . . Joe . . .’ said Mae, repeating his name over and over. Like she couldn’t believe he was really there. She smiled, held out her hand like he was a child. He looked to Nellie. She smiled too, her solid, wonderful, all-encompassing smile. She looked good. Happy. He held on to both women and the three of them turned and walked back across the grass towards Tom and Boots.
Tom grasped Joe around the shoulders and held him tight. Joe could feel his brother’s weight against his chest. His brother’s heartbeat strong against his body. There was no need to say a word. They stayed like that for a while and then Tom let him go. And finally the weight on his chest eased.
Joe stood back, rocked on his heels and looked around at all the people he had known and loved. He glanced down at Boots barking silently at his feet. Found his hand was still in Mae’s. He studied hers for a moment. It looked a little different from the one he remembered, more tanned and firm and strong. She looked like she’d been working, wherever she’d been.
But Mae wasn’t his wife, as much as, years before, he’d wished she’d been. She wasn’t the woman who had shared his bed, put up with his cranky ways, made him the one true love of her life.
He glanced across at his Nellie . . . and his focus drifted back to the other hand still held in his. He gave the beautiful fingers of Mae Rouget one last gentle squeeze.
Then he let her go.
And felt something release from deep within.
If you enjoyed HOPE’S ROAD, look out for Margareta’s new novel
MOUNTAIN ASH
After years of struggling as a single mother, Jodie Ashton has given up on love and passion. What she craves now is security for herself and her beloved daughter Milly. And marriage to widower Alex McGregor, the owner of the prosperous Glenevelyn cattle station in East Gippsland, will certainly offer that. If only he wasn’t so much older and so controlling.
Needing space to decide her future, Jodie reluctantly agrees to a girls-only weekend at the Riverton rodeo …
Meanwhile, cowboy Nate McGregor vows off women, after his latest one-night stand costs him his job in the Northern Territory. Perhaps it’s time to head back to his family home, Glenevelyn, to check out for himself the ‘gold-digger’ his father seems determined to marry.
But first, on his way through Riverton, he plans to stop off at a rodeo.
Two lives are about to collide in one passionate moment - with devastating results…
Read on for a taster.
Prologue
The bride was enveloped in an ethereal glow. She was beautiful and held herself with grace. A wedding dress of chiffon, caught at the bust, flowed like a river down elegant legs. Long golden hair was caught at the nape of her neck with a cream ribbon. Her face was chalk-white, her eyes downcast. She swayed on the arm of a much older man, who had her caught in a firm but gentle grip. Down the path they came, stepping away from the double-storey house quarried from local stone, towards a civil celebrant waiting under the ancient rose arbour.
Guided by her escort, the bride moved over stepping stones wrought from brown river rock, past a scattering of guests, some of whom looked askance and some envious. It wasn’t until the couple reached the place where the celebrant indicated they should halt that the girl finally looked up. Past the arbour with its bending canes of blush-pink blooms, past the blue-grey eucalyptus trees and manuka scrub that had been pushed back to make way for the lush garden and manicured lawns. Past the high hills that were looming a dark brown on the lee side of a nearby mountain in the late afternoon light.
The bride stared off into the heavens, where the sun shot beams of silver through the clouds. Her eyes closed momentarily, as if in prayer, and she whispered something unfathomable under her breath. The man beside her leaned in to try to catch it, but the words were gone as quickly as they had come.
Whatever the bride saw in the sky, or heard on the wisps of wind that had come to toy with her hair, seemed to give her strength. She took a deep breath. Straightened her shoulders. And, with the older man still beside her, stepped forwards.
The celebrant smiled and opened her arms. ‘We are gathered here today to witness the joining in matrimony of this man and this woman…’
Chapter 1
Parnassus shone like burnished copper. In the slight breeze on this glorious mountain day, his long mane and tail flicked like wisps of thick cotton. At the judge’s crack of the stock-whip, Jodie Ashton urged her gelding forwards. Parnie picked up his hooves with confidence and jig-jogged through the gate into the camp.
The small yard contained seven Hereford cattle all milling in the back corner. Jodie looked s
hrewdly across the mob. She was searching for a beast with a kind eye that moved away from her nicely, not like the last one she’d picked in the ladies’ event. Head up, square-on to both her and her horse, that steer had eyeballed her with arrogance. Anyone would think she was a raw beginner, choosing him, rather than someone coming back to campdrafting after a few years’ break. She’d spent the last hour asking herself what she’d been thinking!
Alex: that’s what she’d been thinking. Alex and the argument over getting her a new horse. A horse she didn’t need, didn’t want and certainly didn’t require him to buy for her.
A voice came over the loudspeaker: ‘And next up is number twenty-four, Jodie Ashton on Parnassus.’
Focus, woman!
Jodie pulled her mind away from Alex and walked Parnie through the cattle, taking particular note of the ‘freshies’, the new stock brought into the yard after the last competitor. Eyeing them over, mentally sizing each up and then discounting one after the other. She could hear her father’s voice in her head, reminding her to sit strong in the saddle, to tilt her pelvis, push her feet forwards – ‘Get her boots on the dashboard’ as Robert Ashton used to say with a smile. Oh God, her dad. She didn’t need to be remembering him any more than she needed to be thinking about Alex just now.
A voice came from her right. ‘Ready,’ said the judge.
From the loudspeaker: ‘And for those of you who don’t know what this event is, it’s a maiden draft. That does not refer to the sexual experience of the rider – although with a body like that I’d have Jodie in my bed any day!’ Raucous laughter erupted from the grandstand. The announcer, Richard Muldeen, was a womaniser of the first degree. ‘A maiden draft means the horse is just starting out and hasn’t won a draft yet.’
Like Parnie, thought Jodie, as her eyes locked onto a beast. She moved Parnie forwards, aiming to cut the steer from the rest of the mob. The horse signed onto the steer, cutting and weaving, trying to force the beast away from its mates, until there were only two steers left in front of them. Muscles and sinew moved like quicksilver, powerful hindleg muscles hunching as Parnie blocked the cattle from heading back where they’d come from. Together rider and horse pushed the remaining beasts towards the double gates at the far end of the yard. Two men wearing broad Akubra hats waited, hands on the rails, ready to jump into action and swing the gates wide open at Jodie’s call. She just had to get her chosen steer away from his mate.
Hope's Road Page 32