“Whoa, I feel like I could sleep for another week. What time is it?”
“Early, very early. If you want to see this you have to get up.”
“See what?” she yawned.
“A remarkable sunrise,” he purred.
“Ooooh, yes, I do,” she yawned again, “definitely.”
Emma was accustomed to rising early or having very late nights to photograph something unique or spectacular, and she immediately crawled out of bed, stretching laboriously.
“There’s a cuppa on the nightstand,” Derrick smiled, pointing to a large steaming mug. “I’m ready to shoot through when you are.”
“Huh?” she frowned.
“I’m ready to get moving,”
“Ah, right,” she yawned again. “Give me ten minutes.”
A short time later they were climbing into the Land Rover. It was still dark, though a slight hint of midnight blue seeping into the darkness promised dawn was approaching.
“There’s something a bit creepy about this,” she remarked as he drove through the inky blackness.
“I know. It’s weird,” he nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ve done this a thousand times, and believe me, it’s worth it.”
“I’m not worried,” she replied. “I’m with Superman.”
“And if anything happens I’m with Lois Lane, the ultimate photojournalist, and you can capture any drama on film.”
“It’s just so dark,” she commented.
“No moon, doesn’t help,” he agreed. “We’ll be there soon.”
As the cabin slipped further away, and Derrick drove closer to his destination, the early morning light began illuminating the changing landscape.
“There’s so much more life here,” she exclaimed as Derrick drove the car up a small hill.
“Much more. It’s all about the water,” he declared.
As they crested the rise, Derrick drove a few more minutes, then came to a stop. The horizon was lightening, and Emma saw they were parked above a narrow river, spindly trees flanking its side. Grabbing her camera she climbed out of the car, finding the air still and chilly, a few whistling birds announcing the day. Moments later Derrick joined her, carrying a blanket.
“I can hear some birds, and what’s that sound?” she whispered.
“Amazing, isn’t it?” he whispered back as he spread the blanket. “It’s a kookaburra.”
Tilting her head, she listened intently.
“You’re right, it’s like fanatical laughing,” she grinned, but a moment later a cacophony of birdsong began to rise around her. “Oh, my God, this is incredible.”
“There are some magpies, and if you listen carefully, you’ll swear you can hear a human whistle?”
“I can, and everything’s getting louder,” she declared. “It’s like an orchestra.”
“Believe it or not, it’s just starting, and look over there,” he said, pointing to the horizon.
Shifting her gaze to the left, she saw the sky was changing from a smoky blue to a bright yellowy-orange.
“Wow,” she declared, lifting her camera.
As the minutes ticked by, surrounded by the growing song of the endless variety of birds, the sky rained a multitude of colors from yellow and orange, to red and purple, creating an ever-changing painting for her camera to capture.
“Never seen anything like this,” she sighed. “The sky is just radiating color, and the way it’s bouncing off the river, it’s breathtaking.”
But Derrick wasn’t watching the sunrise, his gaze was focused on the water. Though they were somewhat elevated, they were also relatively close, and he knew crocodiles were active in the early hours.
“I’m almost finished with a book called Sunrise-Sunset, these pictures are going to be the highlight. I’ve got some great shots from all over the world, but these are stunning,” she declared.
“Sounds great,” Derrick replied, his eyes peeled.
“You sound distracted,” she remarked, lowering her camera.
“Just keeping watch,” he replied.
“For what?” she asked, walking a few yards away.
“Crocs,” he replied.
She brought her camera back up, shooting the branches of a tree silhouetted against the backdrop of a burnt red sky.
“Really? This early?”
“Yes, and if you drop your eye down to the water, you’ll see a very gentle ripple.”
Her pulse quickened as she stared down at the formerly still waters; she could see the faintest ripple, and the suggestion of movement beneath the surface.
“Better get back here sweet thing,” he said calmly. “We should get in the car.”
“We’re a decent distance away aren’t we?” she asked, moving back towards him.
“A croc could cover that area in seconds,” he remarked, quickly standing up and grabbing the rug.
“Are you sure it’s a croc?”
“No, but I’m not taking any chances,” he said firmly, gesturing for her to hurry.
“Do they attack for no reason?” she asked, finally reaching him.
“We’re food, we’re a reason,” he exclaimed, opening the car door and hurrying her along, then moving hastily around the vehicle he jumped in.
“And there it is,” Derrick proclaimed, staring through the windshield.
“Holy crap,” she gasped.
The large greyish green creature was slowly pulling itself out of the water, and as it lumbered on to the riverbank, Emma leaned forward, snapping pictures.
“Wish I could get of the car for these,” she muttered.
“Don’t even think about it,” Derrick said abruptly.
“How about if I lean out the window?”
“You stay right where are,” he ordered. “I was hoping we could take a wander, but we can’t if there are crocs around. Far too dangerous.”
He started the car, and carefully turning it around, he headed back from where they came.
“That was intense,” Emma declared.
“It was, but I can’t say I’m surprised. I’ve seen crocs there before, but that one showed up just for you, I’m sure of it.”
“We are we going now?”
“I’m going to head over to the rocks.”
As the car picked up speed she settled back, running through the photographs she’d just snapped.
“Every one of these is incredible,” she sighed. “It’s going to be tough picking the best.”
“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” he smiled.
The further he drove the more barren the landscape became, and the brighter the day. They chatted comfortably until Emma pointed ahead.
“What’s that?” she asked excitedly.
“That’s a rock,” he grinned.
“It’s not! My gosh, it looks as if it’s grown out of the earth.”
A tall, rectangular, lone boulder was standing erect, looking completely incongruous.
“I have to snap that. How bizarre.”
“The further we go, the more there’ll be,” he declared, pulling the car to a stop, “but I call this one, The Sentry.”
“It fits,” she agreed, stepping from the car.
“Remember, keep your eyes open for snakes.” he warned.
“Right, thanks, I will.”
As Emma neared, she guessed the rock to be at least eighteen feet high, and she laid on the ground, her angle making it appear even larger, as though it was reaching for the sky.
“This is going to be fantastic,” she exclaimed, jumping to her feet.
“You done?” Derrick asked.
“Yep.”
He was about to get back in the car when he paused, looking around.
“What is it?” she asked. “You look worried.”
“You feel that?”
“What?”
“That breeze, it’s getting breezy,” he said somberly.
“Is that a problem?”
“It could be, doesn’t have to be, but it could be,”
he answered, scanning the horizon in all directions.
They climbed back in the car and started forward, but Emma could sense his mood had changed; he was on edge.
“Can you tell me what’s bothering you?” she asked softly.
“I’ve been coming here my whole life, and I get a sense of things.”
“Okay, so what are you sensing?” she pressed.
“I think there might be a dust storm brewing,” he frowned.
“Is that bad?”
“Very. Call me paranoid, but I think we should head back to the house and do this trip again later today or tomorrow. We don’t want to be caught in a dust storm,” he said vehemently.
“Whatever you think,” she nodded.
Turning the Land Rover around, he gunned the engine, driving much faster than he had been, and as Emma stared at his face she could see he was very worried indeed. As the landscape whizzed by, she packed away her camera, pulled out a water bottle from her bag, and feeling a bit weary from having been woken so early, and the excitement of the morning, she leaned back her head and closed her eyes.
“Thank, God, we’re almost there,” he announced, and as she stirred she realized she’d been dozing. Yawning and opening her eyes, she wasn’t prepared for what she saw.
A towering wall was headed straight for them.
“What the hell…?” she exclaimed.
“That’s a dust storm,” he said, controlling the panic in his voice, “but don’t worry, we’ll make it.”
But Emma wasn’t listening; all she could think about was getting the photo of a lifetime.
“This is, holy smokes, this is it, this will be the shot of the trip, nothing will top this,” she uttered excitedly, pulling out her camera.
Staring through the windshield, the towering wall of dust seemed to be a fair distance away, and she was sure she’d have plenty of time to capture the extraordinary sight on film. It was only moments later they arrived at the cabin, and as Derrick slowed the car to park it in the garage, Emma jumped out.
“Get inside,” he yelled, driving slowly forward.
Emma, awestruck by the sight, raised her camera and began snapping her photographs. Yanking the heavy garage door shut, Derrick knew the storm was virtually upon them, and there was no time for anything except to dive into the safety of the house.
“Emma!” he called. “Come on, right now!”
Camera in hand, she turned and stared at him but didn’t move.
“Just a couple more,” she yelled. “You can’t believe how amazing these shots are.”
Derrick stared up at the wall about to engulf her, and racing forward, covering the ground in seconds, scooped her up and dashed back to the cabin. He was opening the door when the swirling wind started to engulf them, hurtling her forward, he managed to the wrestle the door shut, securing it with a wood bar that crossed its width. She was panting, leaning against the wall, but he rushed past her into the kitchen, returning with a wet towel, hurriedly stuffing it against the thin crack between the bottom of the door and the floor.
Then, to Emma’s shock, everything went black.
“Holy C-Crap,” she stammered.
“It’s okay, the generator’s in a safe place,” he replied, and switched on the lights.
“I’m scared,” she suddenly confessed. “I don’t know why, but I am. The noise…the dark…”
Debris was banging against the house, and the sound of the blowing wind surrounding them sounded eerie, the whistling almost otherworldly.
“It’s not much fun,” he remarked moving across to her, “but you’ll be fine. They generally don’t last long.”
He pulled her into his arms and held her, then walked her over to the couch where she curled up in his lap.
“Man, that was wild,” she sighed, “I feel like I’m ten years old, and afraid of a thunderstorm.”
“Hmmm, and you acted like a ten-year old,” he commented.
“Sorry. I was like a deer in headlights.”
“No, you weren’t, you were taking pictures, and you have no idea how close you came to a very unpleasant experience,” he scolded.
“You saved me,” she whispered. “Thank you.”
He didn’t respond, and in spite of his comforting arms, she could feel his ire.
“Are you mad?”
“What do you think?” he replied.
“I think, maybe you are.”
“Sorry,” she whimpered.
“Sorry isn’t going to cut it this time, sweet thing, and you’re not leaving this cabin again, not until we come to a much deeper understanding.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
The dust storm was ferocious, and he held her quietly as it wrecked its havoc. When it finally passed he gently released her, announcing he’d make them a cup of tea. Emma didn’t frighten easily but she was shaken, and rising unsteadily she followed him into the kitchen.
“How did you know?” she asked, sitting in one of the chairs at the table.
“I didn’t, I just had a feeling,” he replied, pouring the water into the kettle, “and to be honest I thought it was stirring where we were. I didn’t expect to meet it back here, but it’s the time of year for them, and they spring up out of nowhere.”
“Now I understand why you have the hangar and the garage,” she remarked, “but if we hadn’t make it back we would have been safe in the car, wouldn’t we?”
“Probably, but it would have sandblasted the paint, and if the dust had worked its way under the bonnet somehow…it’s unlikely, but I don’t like to take those kinds of chances, not like other folks I know,” he sighed.
“The sound it made, it was so eerie, not like a tornado,” she remarked, pretending she hadn’t heard his quip. “I’ve chased tornadoes and they’re terrifying, but they’re not a giant wall like that. Standing out there taking the pictures, the feeling was indescribable.”
“The few seconds I was forced to watch you take those pictures was indescribable,” he said soberly, and I’m still not sure how to handle this.
“I’m really sorry if I scared you,” she murmured. “Are you still mad?”
“Yep,” he said brusquely, sitting down opposite her.
“What can I do to make it up to you?” she asked, the look on his face scaring her almost as much as the dust storm had.
“I don’t know,” he replied, shaking his head. “You swore to me that you’d listen, that you’d do as I said, and those few seconds…” his voice trailed off as he recalled the fear he’d felt. “The storm was a bad one,” he continued. “Anything could have happened. If I’d fallen rushing you in here it would have been on top of us. That dust is like sandpaper on your skin, and everything, as you now know, turns pitch black. A large piece of debris could have hit us. Don’t you care about what happens to you, or to me for that matter?”
He had delivered his scolding in a low, controlled voice, but it had sliced through her, and the last question had hit home; she felt her face flush, and dropping her eyes, stared at the table.
“I do,” she said meekly. “It’s just, when I have a camera in my hand the photograph becomes the most important thing.”
“I’m not sure that’s true,” he mumbled, rising to the sound of the kettle boiling.
“But it is,” she protested, lifting her gaze.
He didn’t respond as he made their tea, but as he set the cups on the table he let out a long sigh.
“You didn’t have a camera in your hand the night you stole the key and broke into the swimming pool, and you didn’t care then,” he pointed out.
“That was different,” she frowned.
“Certainly different circumstances, but you didn’t care if you got caught, or that you could slip on the tile and hurt yourself, or get into trouble in the water. The consequences of those things held no concern for you.”
“I guess I didn’t think it was any big deal,” she muttered.
“So, rules are for everyone else? What would happen if e
very guest in the hotel thought that way? You’re a successful, accomplished, dynamic woman. Where’s the disconnect?”
“I don’t feel like successful, accomplished, dynamic woman right now,” she mumbled. “I feel like a stupid girl.”
“That’s no surprise, that’s exactly how you act sometimes, how you acted when I told you to get inside after you jumped out of the car.”
Spooning some sugar into his tea, he dropped his eyes and stirred absently.
“Can we go back to the rocks?” she asked sheepishly, hoping to change the subject.
“Oh, no, Emma, we’re not going anywhere. I can’t trust you. You could take it into you head to clamber up a group of boulders when my back is turned, then lean over to take a picture and end up falling off and breaking your neck.”
“I won’t-”
“Stop right there,” he interrupted. “We’re not leaving this cabin until I can get a grip on this, a grip on us.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, an unexpected panic bouncing in her heart.
“Just what I said. Perhaps you’ve been alone too long. Perhaps you need to be completely independent, perhaps you need to simply do what you want, and to hell with everything and everyone else. That might be bonzer for some people,” he exclaimed, “but it’s not for me.”
His heart was aching, and the thought of losing her after having just found her, felt like a cold, ruthless hand squeezing the life out of him, but he didn’t know how he could be with a woman who held so little regard for her own safety, let alone those around her.
“No, that’s not true,” she retorted. “Please, I care about you so much, Derrick. I know we’ve just met, but I haven’t ever felt this way, not ever. Punish me, I don’t know, do whatever you think, but please don’t give up on me,” she begged.
He could see her sincerity, and the promise of tears in her eyes, and it caused the cold hand to squeeze even more tightly.
“I haven’t given up on you,” he said quietly. “At least, not yet, but I need to noodle this.”
“Noodle?” she asked, a slight smile crossing her face.
“Yes,” he smiled back. “Noodle. Stay here.”
Rising from the table he walked into the bedroom, returning moments later carrying his satellite phone.
The Cowboy From Down Under (Cowboys After Dark: Book 2) Page 11