An Outback Affair/Runaway Wife/Outback Bridegroom/Outback Surrender/Home To Eden

by Margaret Way

  If it had been meant as a threat Mitch didn’t act as if he was worried.

  She blushed to think she had seriously considered going down to Mitch’s room last night. The only thing that had saved her was not maidenly concern about her provocative behaviour but the fact the homestead was full of guests. Besides, she didn’t actually know what Amanda was capable of. Word was, Amanda was a man-stealer—or such was her reputation. Apparently she had stolen her best friend’s boyfriend. That had to be some sort of an indication.

  Putting such thoughts out of her head, Christine rode through the radiant morning, letting the big gelding have its head in an exhilarating gallop before heading towards the nearby lagoon. There was music too in the running water, in the frilly white ripples as they ran swiftly around boulders and cascaded over rocks. She hitched the chestnut gelding to a branch, watching him bend his glistening neck to the green undergrowth, tearing at it with big strong teeth, chewing contentedly.

  With a feeling of relaxation Christine moved off, following the woody trail that cut a swathe down the slope to the sand. Wattles and paper barks draped their branches overhead, some of the trees festooned with the climbing wild passion-flower.

  A flight of ducks—teal and wood ducks and the scarlet-hooded, orange-breasted lotus birds, the “lily trotters”—had alighted on the emerald surface of the lagoon, floating in and out of the pink water lilies and the spears of aquatic grasses that thickly fringed the perimeter. The vivid green reeds were intermingled with tall, delicate white day lilies in flower that gave off an exquisitely sweet perfume. She breathed it in, thinking such a fragrance had never yet been matched in a bottle.

  It was such a peaceful scene it released all her pressures. Sometimes the beauty of nature was almost too much for her. She remembered as a child feeling joy to the point of welling tears at all the splendour, the sound and colour around her, the sweet and aromatic scents of the bush. She understood the wilderness. It was as though she’d never been away.

  The lilied stretch of shining water danced before her. The sun glinted off myriad birds’ feathers, throwing out flashes of iridescent greens, silvers and reds from neck and wing. There was an enormous concentration of water birds in her heartland, the Channel Country, a natural feature that made the vast area so compelling. The ducks were floating so smoothly the overhanging trees made clear-cut reflections in the water.

  Christine sat down quietly on a weathered grey boulder, staring in silent wonder at the scene before her. Moments like this were akin to having God place a calming hand on her shoulder. Bring order to your life, Christine, for life is a miracle. She knew it. These lagoons were precious sanctuaries in the vast arid isolation, and wonderful places to gain insight.

  Surely she’d had long enough to know what it took to make her happy? She’d enjoyed what often seemed to her a fantasy career, involving as it did living the so-called “good life”. But in recent times she had come to the full realization that she didn’t want to be a player. She wanted commitment. A much greater wholeness.

  As a girl she had been so deeply in love with Mitch and he with her it had seemed as if they were one. They had often spoken of their sense of oneness as being like two separate streams flowing into the one river. But at some stage of her under-development—as she thought of it—she had realized their relationship mightn’t work out unless she quelled all the undercurrents that threatened and overwhelmed her young life.

  Her grandmother Ruth, more than anyone, had thrown such a shadow over her. Even her mother had forever been trying to change her. There was a great deal of angst still inside her. It stirred the moment she and her mother were reunited. For all her success she was still vulnerable to her mother’s insensitive comments. She supposed she always would be. It was a fact of life that had to be accepted.

  Kyall wanted her at home. The homestead was a mansion by anyone’s standards—even her super-rich friends’—and there was plenty of room for all of them without invading anyone else’s privacy. But Kyall would soon be married. Sarah would be mistress of Wunnamurra, with all that entailed. Christine couldn’t think her mother would take all that easily to the big shift in her position. The fact of the matter was that Enid, though she would have denied it with her last breath, was relishing being Numero Uno now that her own mother, Ruth, was gone.

  Then there was her promise to Suzanne. Christine fully intended to live up to that. Suzanne had been dealt a rough hand, losing her parents at such an early age. It was her great hope—and she knew Kyall and Sarah felt the same—that Suzanne and Fiona would form a strong, loving relationship. McQueen blood ran in their veins.

  Kyall had offered to let Christine in on the business: McQueen Enterprises. She knew, especially in view of her own portfolio, that she had a good business brain—inherited, no doubt, but she also knew there was no real future without Mitch. He held her happiness in the palm of his hand. She had forced herself to leave him once. She couldn’t leave him again. Success had proved fragile. Loving Mitch had assumed central importance in her life. She couldn’t accept she had ruined their once wonderful relationship.

  She had a few loose ends to tie up before she could come home to roost. A fashion commitment in Sydney—a series of parades for a leading department store—a quick trip overseas, to say her goodbyes, then she could embark on the next, potentially the most exciting stage of her life.

  “Onward, Christine!” In her enthusiasm she spoke aloud, shocked out of her reverie as a figure detached itself from the scrub. She was on her feet instantly, every muscle alert.

  “Why, if it isn’t the posh Miss Reardon, talking to herself,” Jack Cody, the ex-overseer called in a slurred, sneering voice. “I hate rich, pampered women,” he muttered, half staggering down the slope.

  Christine flashed her eyes, indignant. Was he drunk at this hour of the morning? “What are you doing around here, Cody?” she challenged, wondering if he were dangerous. She would know soon enough. “You were sacked a week ago.”

  “Hell, I’m just takin’ my time,” he growled. “What did I do, anyway, that big-shot Claydon had to show me the door? I coulda taken care of that bloody brumby.”

  “Are you nuts? The brumby would have taken care of you—or any one of us.”

  “Typical female response!” Cody chortled. “Made no damn sense Claydon killed ’im.”

  “It was necessary.”

  “Guess you’re Claydon’s number one fan.”

  “Which is none of your business. If you want real trouble you won’t attempt to intimidate me. I advise you to get on your way.”

  “Problem is, you’ve seen me.”

  “I wouldn’t have seen you if you hadn’t broken cover. And you’re drunk.”

  “Wrong. I was drunk last night. It was pretty bloody cold, but I’m dead sober this mornin’. Anyone tell you you got the bluest eyes? Now look at you. Long hair in a braid, breasts shovin’ against that little T-shirt. I reckon you’re the best-lookin’ woman I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

  “Go away, Cody.” Fury and an element of primitive fear stuck in Christine’s throat. Cody was a big man, lean and fit, but there was real evidence he was still under the effects of alcohol. If he approached her she would make a break for it.

  His heavy steps grew nearer. “Don’t be scared. I’m not gonna hurt you. Steal a kiss, maybe. I’ve always been bold with the ladies. Nothin’ ventured, et cetera et cetera…”

  “Back off!” Her anger grew. “I’m Mitch Claydon’s friend, remember? We’re talking about a guy you should watch out for.”

  His grimace held an unnerving amount of resentment. “So what’s Claydon gonna do? Beat me to a pulp? It’d be worth it just to have a conversation with you.” He looked her up and down in a way that made her hands clench.

  “Sorry!” Her voice was cold and hard. “I’m not talking. Do what I say—back off.”

  He smiled, as though he was humouring her. “Keep it together, lady. Keep cool. It looks like you’re in for th
at kiss. After that, no problem.”

  Everything about him made her doubt that—the focus of his eyes, the stupid bombastic smile.

  She moved suddenly, kicking up sand and watching it spray against his chest and face, stinging his eyes.

  “Hey, you shouldn’t have done that.” He rubbed at his eyes, doing more damage, then reached out a long arm for her.

  Christine pulled away violently, kicking up more sand, grimly satisfied to see it find its mark. She had a few seconds to get past him, then tear up the slope. She had never been physically frightened by a man in her life, but she was now, her heart pounding in her ribs as she ran.

  Of course he followed her, bellowing that he wasn’t going to touch her. “Are you crazy? Stop—we can sort this out.”

  She didn’t think so. She had seen the excitement in his eyes. A woman was vulnerable all the time, and Cody was too turned on by her for his own good. Therefore he was very dangerous.

  Drunk or not, he was fast and agile. She increased her pace, stumbled twice. A low branch whipped her face but she felt no pain. Halfway up the slope he made a huge grab for her, but she turned, lashing him across the face with the open palm of her hand.

  “Are you sure you want to make a fight of it?” He was loving it, exuding cocky power, his eyes peeling the clothes off her.

  “You’re the one who’ll find yourself in trouble.” She was panting, sweat breaking out on her and flushing her cheeks. “I’m meeting up with Mitch. He’ll come looking.”

  “You don’t expect me to believe you, do yah?” This time he clamped a strong hand to her shoulder.

  His expression, unmistakably carnal, and the tone of his voice outraged her, momentarily overcoming her panic. “Stop now, Cody,” she warned, anger and revulsion ripping through her. “I’ll report this. You’ll never find work again.”

  “Hey, that’s a lot to lose.” He jerked her closer, staring at her mouth. “Listen, I told yah I have the solution. One kiss. Somethin’ tells me you’re a terrific kisser. One kiss and I swear I’ll back off. That’s if you want me to. A lotta women find me attractive.”

  The strange confidence in his voice nauseated her. Her whole body tensed, as though she were about to ward off a physical blow.

  “Not me.”

  She forced her breath to calm. She could scream her head off but no one would hear her. And as soon as she started screaming he would try to overpower her, clamping a hand across her mouth. Not that he would need to bother. The water birds, disturbed, would take to the air in great confusion, creating their own tumult of sound.

  His fingers were inside her T-shirt, pulling at her bra strap. “You’re stunning, you know that? I don’t mind a bit you’re so tall.” Smilingly he bent towards her, so she could smell the stale whisky on his breath. “Don’t worry, I’m not gonna hurt yah. I think you’re gonna like it. We’ll both like it.”

  Christine had resolved her actions. She brought up her knee so hard it was an explosion in his groin.

  He fell back with a yell so filled with pain he might have been tortured, but Christine didn’t stop to watch him go into a huddle as he tried to cope with that pain. With an abrupt burst of speed she took off, oblivious to his moans and obscenities.

  “Bitch! You’re not gonna be safe now.”

  “Don’t move.” A man was standing about ten feet away from Christine, emanating such menace there might have been danger flags flapping all around him. To Christine he said, very quietly but succinctly, “Get out of here.”

  Her relief was such it was excruciating. “I’m not going anywhere, Mitch. I’m too concerned about you.”

  “Ain’t nuthin’,” Cody called in a hoarse, urgent voice. “Just a bit of fun.” There was no question from his demeanour that he had been thoroughly intimidated from the moment Mitch stepped out of the thicket of trees.

  “The fun hasn’t started.” Mitch kept his eyes on Cody while he walked towards Christine.

  “I can explain!” Cody yelled, scrambling to stand straight.

  “Nothing happened, Mitch.” Christine gazed, perturbed, into Mitch’s taut face, alarmed by something in his manner. He had the look of a man about to pound Cody to pulp.

  “Get on your horse, Chris, and ride away,” he ordered, without looking at her. “This is between Cody and me.”

  “Dammit, the lady’s right!” Cody wheezed, still trying to cope with the pain in his groin. “I did nuthin’.”

  “That’s right, you didn’t—because you didn’t have time,” Mitch said, sounding almost friendly. “Now we’ve got all the time in the world.”

  Cody stared up at him, amazed to realise he was capable of being frightened. “Hold on, man! Wait one damn minute,” he appealed.

  Mitch glanced at Christine with sizzling blue eyes. “I won’t say it again, Christine. Go home. This has nothing to do with you now.”

  She shook her head hard. “Never! I’m not going to ride away while you’re in any sort of danger.”

  For a moment he almost laughed. “You’ve been away too long, Chrissy. There’s no need for your concern, but it’s nice to know it’s there. I know how to look after myself. I also know how to take care of a guy like Cody—who, incidentally has been stealing our stock with a few of his mates. The maximum penalty for stock theft is now ten years, Cody,” he called. “Why would you be fool enough to try it on Marjimba? Obviously you haven’t been with us long enough to know I organise plenty of checks. Especially when a character like you supposedly pulls out.”

  “Try to prove it.” Cody showed a flicker of bravado.

  “Already have. I’ve had a stock squad officer working the station for days now. He found your portable yard, your mates and our stock. It was easy to connect up the road train. Cattle theft is costing us station owners three million a year in this state alone. What a fool you were to get yourself involved.”

  Cody shook his head, held up a hand. “Weren’t substantial.”

  “Substantial enough. You know what you’ve done, Cody. You’ve mucked up your life. Especially since you decided to bother Miss Reardon. We have to come together on that.”

  Cody cleared his throat, his lean cheeks so sunken he looked like a stunned wolf. “Stay away from me, Claydon. Your girlfriend’s already nearly killed me with a knee in the groin. Hell, I wasn’t gonna hurt her. I just wasn’t. I don’t do rape. Just wanted to kiss her. Dammit, lady, tell him.” Cody appealed to Christine, who put her hand on Mitch’s arm, feeling the tight bunch of muscle.

  “Let him go, Mitch. He’s not worth it.”

  “Can’t say I can.” Mitch began to walk purposefully down the slope.

  “Go on—hit me. Go ahead and do it,” Cody invited, watching Mitch’s formidable approach, almost admiring it. “I don’t give a damn.”

  “No kidding?” Without wasting another minute Mitch rammed his fist into Cody’s jaw, stepping back fastidiously as Cody dropped like a stone not about to rise.

  “Oh, God!” Christine moved frantically, reaching Mitch’s side within seconds. “You’re not going to hit him again?”

  “Why bother? I think he’s out for the count.” His frosty eyes coolly swept her. “Do you ever do anything you’re told?”

  “Hey, don’t turn on me. I didn’t want to see you get hurt.”

  He shot her a mocking look. “No chance of that—but since you’re here you can do something. You can get me a rope. There’s one in the Jeep. It’s back through the trees. You can’t miss it. I have to tie Cody up.”

  She stooped over the prone man. “There’s blood drooling down his chin.”

  “Tough beans! Are you going to get the rope?”

  “You bet I am.” She started to move. “What are you going to do with him?”

  “Catapult him into the creek? Hang him? I’m open to suggestions. No, I think the stock police can take him away.”

  “I don’t think he would have hurt me,” she assured Mitch nervously.

  “Oh, hell, no!” He didn’
t sound convinced.

  “Besides, I’d almost managed to get away.”

  “You’re a smart woman.”

  “I am. I’m fairly sure he wouldn’t have made a serious move on me.”

  “Yeah, well, that’s not good enough,” said Mitch. “Because if he’d hurt you I’d have had to kill him.”

  By mid-afternoon most of the guests had gone home after a sumptuous al fresco brunch. The only ones remaining were Kyall and Sarah and the Logan sisters. The Saunderses who had arrived with Kyall, had cadged a ride on an earlier flight out.

  Cody’s arrest had caused a minor sensation. They had all watched him, pinned between two burly stock police and bundled into a four-wheel drive. Between them Christine and Mitch had agreed not to mention Christine’s brush with him at the lagoon—his man-handling of her or Cody’s panic-stricken reaction when Mitch had arrived.

  In the big airy bedroom—the very best guest room at Marjimba Homestead—Christine double-checked the wardrobe and drawers to see she hadn’t left anything behind. She was going home with Kyall. There was no point at all in Mitch making a separate trip.

  Though the Cody incident had upset her, it could have been much, much worse had Mitch not arrived. She was determined on putting it to the back of her mind. She had thoroughly enjoyed her stay on Marjimba. It had been a beautiful, liberating time. But now she had to go home to her mother, and their problematic relationship. She had so wanted to mend it, but she’d have to work harder to make it happen. Her mother was one difficult woman but Christine was determined to be cheerful in her outlook.

  There was one other dark cloud on the home front. Christine was unable to forget Kyall’s shocked revelation that their father might have formed a serious relationship with a woman in the town. Though he had certainly suffered a lack of tenderness and attention from his own wife.

  When a tap came at her door she went to it all smiles, expecting to see Julanne. Instead Mitch stood on the threshold. “May I come in?” he asked, his eyes licking at her sensitive flesh.