“I don’t know,” Helen answered, her voice hesitating. “You’re a sweet man, Paul. Anyone can see that. The entire region is madly in love with you, for Pete’s sake.”
“All the more reason to let me be your friend.”
“But what if you don’t want to be my friend? What then?”
“Why wouldn’t I?”
She lifted one eyebrow and canted her head to one side.
“Oh, I see. If I want to be more than friends, and you don’t.” He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “I suppose I’ll have to cry into my grog and make the best of it, won’t I? So what do you say? Truce? I won’t try to kiss you again until you say I can, and you’ll be my friend.”
She considered his words like a general considers his enemy. After a moment, she extended her right hand. He wanted more than that. At the very least, he wanted to bend down like some bloody knight and kiss her knuckles, but he took her slender fingers in a gentle grip instead.
The touch was like magic. Strong enough to make him weak in the knees. He hoped he could live up to his promise not kiss her again. Everything about her tempted him worse than a little boy in front of Bully’s candy shelf.
“Friends,” she whispered in a barely audible voice. Still, somewhere inside the halting tone, there was a bit of hope. A little consideration.
It was something.
Could he keep his word? The way she fired his blood and made him see past his own selfish wants made him somewhat doubtful. But it was a start.
With effort, he dropped her hand. “I’m going riding with Dale. When I get back, I have something for you that might cheer you up a little. Until then, just don’t go running off again. It’s a big desert.”
She grinned, her mouth parting enough to make his blood run hot. “I won’t.”
9
Blue had watched the young doctor run from the back of Dale’s house into the barn. A few seconds later, Paul had followed her. From his perch on Tower Rock, Blue could see everything. The sheep, grazing in the short grasses of their pastures, moved like a great cloud against the muted green. In a paddock close to the barn, Apache, Emily Winter’s huge black racer, drank from a water trough. In yet another enclosure, roughly half the station’s herd of forty whalers grazed quietly. The other horses were in use while the Jackaroos, and their female counterparts, the Jillaroos, watched over the flock.
Emily and Dale didn’t know Blue had returned early from the gathering. As much as he’d wanted to stay, the Ancestors had other plans for him. Or perhaps they didn’t, and he was guilty of his son’s accusations—that he spent too much time worrying over the lives of others. Not that he could help it. He’d seen young Helen’s path in the Dreaming, had known she would come to the great land of his birth and suffer through a painful emotional journey. What part he needed to play in the adventure, he wasn’t sure.
He would let the Ancestors guide him, as he always had. With that in mind, he descended the huge pinnacle and made his way to the barn. When he’d come within a few feet of the doors, Paul left and went back to the house.
Blue waited for him to pass before entering the barn. Inside, Helen stood in front of Jezebel’s stall, her arms on the top board and her chin resting on her hands. Apparently deep in thought, she hadn’t heard him enter.
“The path to happiness is often winding,” he announced. “You have made many turns.”
Helen jumped, one hand moving to her heart. “I didn’t see you.”
“I know,” Blue replied. “You’re sad again.”
She kept her gaze fastened on his, the brown glistening in the moisture of her tears. “Am I so easily read? Or is it true what they say about you?”
He gestured to her face. “You’ve been crying.”
“The horses kicked up dust, that’s all. I’m fine, really.”
“If you say so.” He shrugged. She was very much like Djuru, refusing to admit to anyone that he was as much a human as anyone else. What made it so difficult for some people to show their frailties? Helen had been hurt, greatly so, before she’d come to Australia. Yet she insisted upon ignoring it, afraid to make the same mistakes. That was the main reason the Ancestors had brought her here, he suspected. To face the worst of the challenges in her young life and rise above as a champion of her own destiny.
“I do say so, if that’s quite all right with you.” She squared her shoulders, once again armored against whatever it was she feared most.
He couldn’t figure out exactly what that was, yet. Was she afraid of someone else, or herself? “Of course.”
An uncomfortable silence filled the shadowed interior of the barn until Helen whispered something to the horse. Jezebel raised her head into Helen’s outstretched palm, gently nudging while the young woman brushed her fingers over its nose.
“She likes you.”
“I like her.”
“What made you run away?”
She dropped her hand quickly. “I didn’t run away.”
“You did. I saw you run from the house a little while ago. Did something happen to make you afraid?”
“Oh, that. It was nothing. I just needed some fresh air, that’s all.”
“So you came to a barn?”
Helen’s cheeks darkened, and she refused to meet his gaze. “It’s complicated.”
“Not so complicated. Whatever it was, running helps nothing.”
“I only run when I’m weak. That doesn’t happen very often.”
“Why did you come to Australia?”
“To be a doctor, of course.”
The barn door opened, and Emily moved from the bright sunlight into the shadowed interior. “Blue! You’re back.” She lit the barn with her smile, hurrying to clasp him in a welcoming embrace. “We missed you.”
“It’s nice to be missed,” he answered, returning the hug but keeping his eyes trained on Helen. She looked away, her discomfort at the affection Emily showed him apparent in the set of her shoulders and her entwined fingers.
“Did you bring Djuru with you?”
“I tried. He said he might come later, but Nanara is here, so I don’t think he will.”
“No. She’s moved to Port Hedland. She’s nursing for Dr. Stanwood now.”
“I’ll tell him, and maybe he’ll come visit.”
“He should stop fighting it, you know. She adores him, and what’s past is past.” As if she suddenly remembered why she’d come to the barn, she released him and faced Helen. “Are you all right, dear?”
“Fine.”
“I wanted to come sooner, but Paul said you needed to be alone.”
The color drained from Helen’s cheeks, leaving them pale around her slightly widened eyes. “What else did he say?”
“Only that you hadn’t been feeling well. Are you ill? The one time I’ve flown with Paul, I was sick for hours.”
“I’m just tired, that’s all. I’m all right now. Should we go back to the house? Are the children back?”
“They are. And the baby woke just a few minutes ago. I think we’re ready for whatever vile mixtures you have for us,” Emily replied, laughing.
The two women headed for the door. As Helen passed, Blue caught her arm. She looked first at his hand, then lifted her gaze to his eyes. “Did you need something?”
“No.”
“Then what is it?”
“Embrace the winding path, Miss Helen, and don’t be afraid of the turns.”
Three hours later, Helen returned the last of her equipment to her medical bag and placed it by the front door. “Everyone is perfectly healthy, Emily. You have a wonderful family.”
“Thank you, Helen. It’s so nice to have you come and do this for us. Taking the children into Port Hedland to see Doc Mallory,” she answered, rubbing her belly, “isn’t exactly feasible right now.”
“That’s what I’m here for.”
“Let’s sit outside where it’s cooler. The front porch has lovely shade this time of day, and we can watch for the boys when the
y come back.”
“It’s getting dark. They should be back soon, I hope.”
“I’m sure they will be.” Emily sat in the rocking chair closest to the front door and indicated that Helen should take the other. “Though, when the two of them get together, one never knows.”
An evening breeze had begun to sweep across the pastures, bending the tallest of the brush with a gentle hand. Helen scanned the horizon looking for a sign of Dale or Paul. Only because they needed to head back to Port Hedland soon, if they were to reach home before dark. It had nothing to do with the fact they’d been gone for more than the time it had taken for her to examine all five children and Emily.
“So, Helen, tell me. How long do you think you’ll be staying in Australia?”
“Forever, I imagine.” She shrugged. “I thought that was understood.”
“Really? I thought you were here on a temporary basis. There isn’t much here for an independent, modern woman like you. At least, not outside the cities.”
“So I’ve realized. But it shouldn’t matter where someone lives. I can be just as independent here as I could at home.” Hopefully, more so. She didn’t have her mother to contend with, and having left her heart in a million shattered pieces on the docks of San Francisco, she hadn’t thought she would have any troubles at all.
How wrong she’d been about that.
“What about marriage?”
“No, thank you!” Helen nearly shouted, holding both hands in front of her like a shield.
“You don’t want to get married?”
“I have nothing against marriage,” she lied. The truth was, she had everything against marriage. She had seen far more unhappy unions that happy ones, and she had no desire to throw herself into the pits of misery for the sake of antiquated conventions. She knew all too well what could come of such an arrangement. “You and Dale seem about as happy as any two people I’ve ever known. I’m just not in any position to share my life with anyone.”
“I wish you the best of luck with that.” She shook her head gently, a rueful smile on her lips.
“You don’t think a woman can be independent of a man?”
“Not at all. It’s just that you’re not in California anymore. Women are like gold in the bush. We don’t stay unclaimed for long. There was a time I thought as you did.”
“But you see, Dale loves you, and you love him. I don’t love anyone, and no one loves me.”
“Posh. You can’t possibly mean no one. What about your parents?”
Helen sighed. “They were rather happy to see their wayward daughter leave the country, I think.”
“Wayward is a matter of opinion, for the most part, isn’t it?”
Emily had a point. But in Helen’s case, events had proven her parents correct, and as much as it galled her to admit it, she’d had no other choice but to leave. Leave, or continue her banishment in embarrassed silence.
“We got a bit carried away. Sorry.”
Dale and Paul sauntered into the parlor, both wearing sheepish grins that would have been more at home on one of Dale’s children than two grown men.
Paul’s cheeks were reddened from too much time in the sun, his ruddy complexion practically glowing. The seriousness of their conversation in the barn was gone, replaced with the happy-go-lucky, vagabondesque quality she’d been attracted to from their first meeting.
Of course, none of that mattered, considering the last of the sunlight had faded more than an hour ago and it was now quite impossible to fly anywhere.
Helen leaned back on the settee beneath the front window, her arms crossed and her eyes trained on Paul. When he finally turned that amazing smile on her, she tried to ignore the persistent flutter somewhere in the region of her heart.
Tried to. And failed.
“Don’t be angry with me, Helen. You work too hard, anyway. Think of this as a forced respite.”
“What if something happens?” she huffed. “What if I’m needed in Port Hedland and I’m not there, hmmm?” She tapped her foot. “What about little Marla?”
“Believe it or not, we got on quite fine before you came to town, and I’m sure that everyone will survive without you for just one night.”
“Paul, don’t scold her. She’s only concerned about her duties.” Emily patted Helen’s knee gently. “Everything will be fine. You’ll spend the night here, and go home first thing in the morning.”
It wasn’t spending the night away from her office that worried her. Her concern had a great deal more to do with spending the night under the same roof as Paul Campbell.
That’s how she’d fallen so ungraciously last year, wasn’t it? A simple, innocent convenience. Spend the night in a strange place, and wake up…
She couldn’t bear to think of it.
She had been a fool, but that was a long time ago. She had grown much since then, and as a grown woman she could certainly protect herself. She would face temptation and be stronger for the winning.
“Thank you, Emily,” she answered with a smile. “I’m feeling a little tired already. Would you mind terribly if I skipped dinner and went to bed early?”
Emily frowned. “Do you feel well?”
“Yes, I’m fine. Only tired.”
“Let me have Candice prepare a room for you, and I’ll be back presently.”
Emily lumbered out of the parlor, catching Dale’s hand and leading him along behind her.
Paul leaned against the wall, crossing his arms casually while he cast a gaze that seemed to see right through her. At least through her outer defenses and directly into her heart. Why did he have to do that? Why did she have to respond?
Why was she so incredibly weak, no matter how had she tried to convince herself otherwise?
“I wonder, what would you do right now if I kissed you?” he asked.
“You promised you would stop this nonsense,” she commented dryly.
“I said I would stop trying to kiss you. I never said I’d stop talking about it.”
“You’ve been drinking,” she mused. “I should have known.”
“A taste or two perhaps, but that has nothing to do with my wanting to kiss you.”
“Then what?”
“I haven’t the foggiest notion, to tell the truth. Perhaps I’m a glutton for punishment,” he quipped, leaning forward slightly to emphasize his point.
“You’re a masochist, I think.” She couldn’t help but smile. No matter how badly she wished she didn’t feel this way, sitting here with him was … nice.
Pleasant.
Was that so horrible?
And he was a man of his word. So long as he kept his promise, remained safely ensconced in his position on the far side of the room, a little simple flirting wouldn’t harm anyone.
“Are you homesick?”
“Why would you ask that?”
“Anyone would be. But I have something I think might cheer you up. Doc gave them to me before we left Port Hedland to give to you, but it… slipped my mind before we left.”
He was being polite. Before they’d left, she hadn’t been willing to even speak with him. She’d barely looked at him.
Paul vanished around the corner for a moment, and returned with a small package wrapped in muslin cloth and tied with twine. “I think they might be letters from home.”
She took the package from him and set it on her lap. Just the thought of another letter from Reginald turned her stomach into ashes. She couldn’t even bring herself to meet Paul’s steady, friendly gaze. “Did you look at them?”
“Of course not. What kind of whanker do you take me for?”
“No, I don’t mean that you read the letters.” She forced herself to face him. “I mean, do you know who they’re from?”
“No. I didn’t open the wrapping a bit, of course. They’re yours.”
She nodded. “Thank you. For delivering them.”
Emily appeared on the staircase and waved at Helen. “Your room is ready, Helen.”
&nbs
p; “I have to go,” she explained, though she wasn’t certain why.
“Sleep well, love.”
By the time Helen disrobed and climbed between the soft sheets of a high, four-poster bed, she thought her entire body might fail her. Weak joints teamed with a wretched stomach to make her want nothing more than to fall into blissful slumber.
But the letters called to her. What if one of them was from Reginald? There hadn’t been time for a letter to him to travel to San Francisco, not that she had any intention of writing him. Perhaps it was cruel of her, but after their last meeting, when he’d refused to marry her, she owed him nothing—least of all a letter. Even if she had replied to his letter last week, given him a piece of her mind in the form of a verbal kick to his backside, he still would have already posted another letter to her.
If he had.
What if he hadn’t?
She didn’t know which was worse … that he pursue her when she no longer wanted him to, or that he not pursue her at all.
She lifted the letter bundle from the bedside table and pulled on the twine. Anyone watching might have thought she was opening a box with a venomous snake inside.
The first letter was from her schoolmate, Maria Martinez. The next came from another mate of hers from medical school, Brian Parsons. The next four letters all bore the same lethal strokes in the return address, the same name she’d hoped never to see again. Four letters from Reginald, each one posted a day apart.
When Paul opened his eyes, moonlight shifted through the sheer curtains of his borrowed bedroom. The room had once been Joel Winters’ bedroom, but had been given to one of the children. Toys lined one wall, neatly arranged from the tallest to the smallest. Tiny clothing hung on pegs above them. Little strides. Little shirts. Little boots tucked neatly by the door.
The first time he’d ever been in this room, it had looked similar, only the items had belonged Joel. Joel had been a rambunctious boy, always finding something dangerous to do. Dale had saved him more times than either of them could remember.
The Flyer Page 15