Sarah stood and quietly conversed with Carla before she backed Tabitha into the centre of the arena. Sarah turned back to Luke. “Watch Carla and see how she guides Tabitha.”
Carla rode the mare through a walk, a trot, and a couple of changes of direction. When she pulled up a little way short, she dropped her hat. Caleb half-stood before Sarah’s hand gripped his arm.
“Wait.”
Caleb took his seat again.
Carla backed the mare. “Tabitha, fetch.”
Tabitha lowered her head, retrieved the hat and turned her head. Carla took the hat and patted the mare’s neck.
“Wow, neat trick!” Luke and his family applauded and Tabitha nodded her head like an actor taking a bow.
“Please call us when the horse is ready to take Luke.” The boy’s father shook Sarah’s hand and gave her a business card before herding his family out of the arena. Luke left with a backward glance and a grin fit to split his face.
Finally, Caleb rested his elbows on his knees and shook his head. “I thought I’d seen it all but you two are full of surprises. Why didn’t you tell me what you had planned, Mum?”
“Because sometimes, it’s easier to show you, darling. The look on your face before I mounted Tabitha told me I was right. You wanted to save me from danger but what I really need is the challenge. Sarah’s offered me a part time coaching job.”
“Coaching? Whoa. You two are going too fast for me.” Carla was spreading her wings and he was happy for her. And it was Sarah’s doing. He met her amused violet-blue eyes. How could he thank her for this precious gift?
“Carla, I’ll put the kettle on, unless you want to finish your session with Tabitha now?”
“Tea would be nice, thanks, Sarah. And a few more minutes with this beautiful girl will be enough for me today.”
Sarah slipped out of the arena, and Caleb looked up at his mother.
“Sarah has given me the means to heal myself. Now go help her make something more interesting than tea.” With a click and a flick of the reins, she set Tabitha into a trot.
Whistling as he strode into the tinder block kitchen, Caleb thought of the partnerships Sarah forged with the horses she helped. They began with earning trust, and learning to accept a human’s touch. Much like Sarah. Did she trust him enough to move into the next stage?
Sarah stood with her back to the door, a teapot in one hand and three large mugs in the other. She glanced over her shoulder as he entered the kitchen. “Still waiting for the water to boil. Is Carla okay?”
“Carla is more than okay. You’ve made her deliriously happy.”
“I’m glad I was able to help. But—what’s wrong, Caleb? Aren’t you happy your mum has rediscovered her love of horses?”
“It’s wonderful. I couldn’t be happier for her but all of a sudden I’m feeling redundant. Do you have a remedy for me?”
She handed him the mugs and teapot. “You can help make the tea. The caddy is in the cupboard on your right.”
He put the mugs on the bench and set the aluminium teapot down beside them. Turning to Sarah, he placed his hands on the bench top. “I don’t think tea will help me.”
Her violet-blue eyes widened and her chin rose and for the longest moment in his life, Sarah stood without moving.
“Sarah, I trust you. The question is, do you trust me?”
Her gaze shifted and she clasped her hands across her waist.
He held his breath, waiting for her to decide. Happiness—hers and his—hung in the balance.
“You do realise that all herds have a dominant female looking after them? The stallion protects his herd but he doesn’t get to make all the decisions.”
“Perfect role for me. Didn’t you tell me that’s what I do best?”
“How are you at letting the women in your life take charge some of the time?”
“Hey, hasn’t today shown you anything? I can do it—sometimes. I may need help to take off the blinkers once in a while.”
“Maybe I can help you with that.” Slowly, Sarah covered the short distance between them and raised her hand. She stroked his cheek, softly and without a tremor in her fingers, and he leaned into her touch and dropped a kiss into her palm.
“I think we could make this partnership work.” And then Sarah wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him on the mouth. Her lips were soft and warm, and slightly salty.
“Caleb?”
“Yes, sweetheart?”
“I think I’m falling in love with you.”
“In that case, take all the time you want to be sure. I’m already head over heels with you.”
He let her set the pace, knowing her healing had begun out on the track. Knowing that her longest ride was done and they’d travel the rest of the way, together.
Book 4-Hearts of the Outback
Winds of Change
Chapter One
Winds of Change
Willa Raynolds dragged her suitcase from the taxi and dashed towards the Townsville airport terminal. Rain blew under the wide roof, peppering her with heavy drops that plastered her pink cotton shirt to her back. The weight of her thick braid pulled her scalp painfully tight and a headache lurked beneath her left temple.
A tropical low heading for the Queensland coast had developed into a category three cyclone and was moving more quickly than originally forecast. Departure any time today would be a miracle but her agent, Charlie Abernathy, wouldn’t be thrilled if she missed her own news conference.
She rushed through the automatic doors and slid on polished concrete into a khaki-covered chest. The young Aussie soldier grabbed her elbow and prevented her collapsing in a sodden heap.
“I’m so sorry.” She pushed her currently-blonde hair out of her eyes and realised her hand still rested on a solid chest. Snatching it back, she stepped away.
“No worries. Not every soldier can say he’s held Willa Raynolds in his arms. Reckon that makes it cool.”
Damn. So much for the change of hair colour and nondescript clothes to escape detection. “Please don’t breathe a word until I’m gone. What gave me away?”
He grinned and his gaze bored into hers. “Your eyes. On screen, I thought you wore coloured lenses or something but they really are purple. Unless—” he trailed off, his question hovering unspoken as good manners reasserted themselves.
She’d never disappoint a fan, especially not one in the Services. The boys in khaki would always have her full support. She smiled and offered the truth. “The eyes are one hundred per cent me but the hair? A mistake, obviously.”
“Dunno about that. Blondes are supposed to have more fun. Um, can I get a photo with you, Miss Raynolds? The guys won’t believe me unless I show them.”
Inwardly Willa groaned. Not that she minded the notoriety that came with headlining an international crime hit series, but the quick trip home to visit her parents in Mt. Isa was meant to be low-key. Charlie would hit the roof if she were spotted before the news broke about her new outback series.
Containment. That’s all I need. “Sure. How about we move away from the doors? What’s your name, soldier?”
“Private David Preston.” He grabbed her suitcase handle and led her to a quiet spot beside a column. Phone in hand, he draped an arm over her shoulders. Many of her co-stars met her eye-to-eye; standing at five foot ten in bare feet, she expected that. But the freckle-faced redhead towered over her. It had been a long time since she’d stood beside a man as tall as soldier boy.
“Smile.” He extended his arm and pressed the button.
On impulse, she turned her head and kissed his cheek. A burst of soft clicks captured the moment and she hoped she’d made his day. As he released her, she noticed pink lipstick on his cheek. Reaching up, she said, “Let me wipe that off for you.”
“Not on your life. I’m keeping Willa’s lips on my cheek as long as I can.”
“Won’t you get in trouble? I thought—”
“Aw, heck, Miss Raynolds, it would be w
orth it. Say, can I shout you a coffee?”
“Thanks, Private Dave Preston, but I better check in. Great meeting you and thanks for the save.”
Leaving him with a Willa-special, Jax’s name for her big smiles, she headed to check-in. The queue was long and tension showed on many faces. The clock above the counter showed ten past nine.
Why had she agreed to fly today? Instinct had urged her to leave yesterday but Charlie wanted her arrival to coincide with the announcement of the television series and she’d agreed to his planning strategy. He doesn’t know how quickly our late summer cyclones can move.
Willa dragged her suitcase along the cattle run of the queue to the turnaround point—one more turn to go—and gazed through the windows.
Blurry images of palm trees whipped backwards and forwards and rain drove horizontally into the panoramic windows. The weather had definitely worsened and she questioned her judgment in letting Charlie override her local knowledge. Ahead of her, harried counter staff checked off passenger names and allocated seating. Departure was going to be a close thing before the airport and city shut down to ride out the cyclone.
At last, Willa stood in front of a young attendant. He looked at her driver’s licence, and peered at her face and grinned. “Welcome, Miss Raynolds. Can I have your autograph please?”
“Sure, but please, I’m trying to stay incognito. Don’t let my secret out, will you?” She launched another Willa-special his way and scrawled, Love, Willa xx across the back of a postcard of the airport.
An ABC weather update appeared on the television next to the clock and her ears pricked up as the screen changed to show a map of the central coast. The presenter stood to one side and indicated a whirl of white cloud above the expanse of blue sea.
. . . as Tropical Cyclone Sasha moves towards the Central Queensland coast. It is expected to make landfall around mid afternoon . . .
Three dings over the public announcement system were followed by an announcement, most of which she couldn’t make out. The one thing that stood out loud and clear—“ . . . all flights have been grounded . . .”—drew a collective groan from those nearest to her.
Half-expecting the cancellation, Willa shrugged and pulled out her phone. Charlie would be unhappy about her non-appearance in Mt. Isa but Mother Nature had other plans. And right now, a category three tropical cyclone was more of a worry than her agent’s wrath.
Breakfast was a distant memory and it looked as though she was in for a lengthy wait. Towing her suitcase she headed for the airport café and joined another queue as she placated her agent. “You’ll just have to tell them I’m blown away to be heading up the new series, pun intended, and I’ll get there for promo shots as soon as I can, Charlie. It’s not like I can do anything about the weather. They’ll understand.”
“Is there a news crew at the airport? If you can grab even a few seconds of air time—”
“Forget it, Charlie. There’s more important stuff happening outside. I’m here for the duration. Besides, you’re the one who wanted me to arrive without any fanfare and I have. Look, I need to get off the phone now. Talk later.” She disconnected the call and shoved her phone into her pocket as she reached the counter and placed an order.
Juggling a packet of sandwiches and a cup of strong coffee with her suitcase, she looked around. All the tables were taken. She headed towards a patch of carpet behind a support column with the attraction of a wall to lean against. With luck, she might sit quietly behind it and doze. Almost grateful for the chance of quiet time, she drew her suitcase in to form a small barricade and slid down the wall.
She slipped a pearl-pink manicured nail under the sticky tape on the plastic sandwich container and flicked it open. Fresh, hard-boiled egg and lettuce nestled between two slices of soft, white bread cut into two triangles. She took a big bite and shut her eyes, all but groaning as the buttery mix hit her tongue.
“Still like the simple things in life then.”
That voice. Deep and smooth with an underlying bite like her favourite Bundy rum and dry. Tingles of awareness thrummed down her spine and her heart stuttered at the sound.
How long had it been since she’d last heard it?
Since he walked away from me. How could she respond to his voice like the teenager she’d been, after all these years? Damn the man, there were so many memories between them but she would not let him know just the sound of his voice could still affect her. She would not allow it.
She reached deep for her snarky self. Reluctantly, she opened her eyes and looked up.
Six foot-four of straight-backed, broad-shouldered, buzz-cut, granite-jawed deliciousness met her gaze. “Jax. Returning like the proverbial bad penny, I see.”
“Heading home. Are you travelling alone?” He looked around then dropped his khaki duffle bag against the wall and joined her in her corner.
“Oh, where are my manners? Please do join me.” Sarcasm dripped from her lips, which was a helluva lot better than drool. Damn, why did Jax have to look so good in his khakis?
She dabbed the paper serviette over her mouth and surreptitiously ran her tongue across her teeth. It was ten years since she’d seen Jax and she didn’t want to be wearing parsley on her teeth the first time she saw him again. Not that he meant anything to her now, but a woman had her pride. “So a flying visit?”
“Home from deployment. I plan to visit Mum.”
Mum. Not Mum and Dad. She’d heard his parents had divorced, and not amicably, soon after she and Jax broke up. “How is she?”
“Loving life. She has an exhibition of her new series of paintings.”
“How wonderful. Your mum is such a gifted artist. I’m glad she’s doing so well. And—your dad? Is he—?”
“He was posted to Canberra and then had a couple of stints overseas. I heard he’s in Germany now.” Jax’s tone dismissed further questions about his father. She took the hint. His father had never been an easy topic of conversation. But then, back in their teens they’d been more interested in making out than talking. Perhaps that had been one of their failings as a couple. That, and we were too young to settle down.
“A lot of water has gone under the bridge since those days. So, where have you been?”
“Here and there. You?”
“Mostly LA.” Time at home was a rare treat and perhaps the reason she’d let Charlie convince her to fly in today. Combined with bone-deep fatigue she hadn’t realised existed after two full-on seasons of the top-rating crime show.
“Ah, yes, LA Lawless. Did you get time off for good behaviour?”
“Funny guy. I have family living here too. And an event in Mt. Isa which Sasha is making me miss.”
“I imagine dust and desert will make a change from your usual glitterati affairs.” There was a rough edge in the way he drew out the words. As though he still hadn’t overcome his dislike of the fakery of her chosen profession.
Stupid as it was, an ache in her chest suggested his opinion still mattered. But it didn’t. How could it when he’d been the one to walk away? “You think that’s all I do? That my work is unimportant?”
“It’s entertainment, not necessity.”
“Unlike your defender of the country. Yet you support your mum’s art, don’t you?”
“I cheer her on in her artistic endeavours.”
“But not mine? Forget it. There’s no point rehashing old arguments.”
He slugged back half his coffee and sat staring into the cardboard cup. “I didn’t say what you do isn’t important, Willa.”
“Let’s leave it, shall we?” Reopening old wounds was counterproductive, especially if they had to pass hours waiting out the storm. Better to behave as old friends than ex-lovers.
“Like we always did. We never really talked about it.”
“It’s not like we’ll see one another after the cyclone has blown itself out. Why not just remember the good times? We had plenty of them.”
He shrugged. “Hard things have to be addr
essed for people to move forward.”
“Like you cutting off discussion about your dad? He left but you don’t want to talk about that.”
A muscle worked in his jaw and he stared out the window. The sky had grown darker as they sat in their corner and the wind lashed the trees until Willa thought they would be uprooted before the eye of the storm hit.
“Okay.” For such a small word, he struggled to release it. “Let’s talk—about us.”
About the Author
Born and raised in Toowoomba, Susanne is an Australian author of contemporary and suspense romances set in exciting and often exotic locations, and rural romance set in Australia. She adores travel with her husband, both at home and overseas, and weaves stories around the settings and people she encounters.
Her heroes have to be pretty special to live up to her real life hero. He saved her life then married her.
Susanne is a member of the RWA and was a finalist in their 2011 Emerald Award. She placed third in the 2015 Pan Macmillan short story competition with Chez Romeo. Mentoring aspiring writers, and working as a freelance editor keeps her off the street! She loves connecting with readers and fellow writers.
More Books by Susanne Bellamy
Heartbreak Homestead (Hearts of the Outback Book 2) amzn.to/1nqc9hc
Just One Kiss- (Hearts of the Outback Book 1) bit.ly/1Oq3KAX
Second Chance Love (Amazon Australia store) amzn.to/1FEJyx4
Second Chance Love (A Bindarra Creek Romance) bit.ly/1O5ngaN
Second Chance Café – Four Short Stories by Susanne Bellamy, Elizabeth Ellen Carter, Noelle Clark and Abbie Jackson bit.ly/1QlViZl
Sunny with a Chance of Romance amzn.to/1Cmy9jM
One Night in Tuscany amzn.to/1dKLyX6
One Night in Sorrento amzn.to/1brE2Jp
Winning the Heiress' Heart (The Emerald Quest) amzn.to/1B9TVUJ
Long Way Home (Hearts of the Outback Book 3) Page 14