by Shirley Wine
‘Pat is a bitch!’ Brooke’s hand clenched, her fingernails biting into her palm.
‘You won’t get any argument from me.’ Molly splayed her hands palm down on the table top. ‘I overheard McLellan telling Pat that Luke’s sister wasn’t in her right mind when she named him as guardian.’
Brooke sucked in a hissing breath. ‘Luke won’t like that.’
Molly glanced over her shoulder then leaned across the table and, lowering her voice, said, ‘Brooke, I suspect they’re working together to hatch some real mischief.’
Brooke’s tapping fingertips betrayed her disquiet. ‘Do you think Luke needs to know?’
‘Would you like to be blind-sided by anything that pair were plotting?’
Brooke shook her head. She wouldn’t, and from what she’d learned about Luke, she knew that he too would prefer to know exactly what he needed to deal with.
‘And speak of the devil,’ Molly muttered. ‘Don’t look now, but old man McLellan has just walked in.’
Moving slowly, Brooke turned slightly in her chair, wanting to see the man who was giving Luke such grief.
The children’s grandfather was tall; straight shouldered with iron-grey hair. He possessed the air of a very proper, dignified gentleman, an impression reinforced by his stern, patrician features and deep-set eyes beneath bushy grey eyebrows.
He paused just inside the cafe door; his gaze skimmed across the crowded tables, pausing when he saw Molly, and with a brief nod of recognition, he looked directly at Brooke.
His stern-lipped mouth thinned to a white line.
Impaled on that piercing stare, Brooke found it a struggle to breathe, and was possessed of the uncanny sensation that Ian McLellan had come here for the sole intention of seeking her out. When he threaded his way through the crowded cafe towards them, Brooke knew she wasn’t mistaken.
Is he intending to create a scene? Here?
The thought was enough to make Brooke cringe. The last thing she needed was to be subjected to more gossip. His determined approach drew the attention of the lunch crowd, and by the time he reached their table, an expectant silence had fallen.
Brooke was far too aware of being the centre of attention. Her mouth went dry and her uneven heartbeat thundered in her ears.
‘Ms Cardno.’ He inclined his head in the arrogant assumption that he was entitled to interrupt their lunch and private conversation. His piercing gaze flicked from Molly to Brooke as he said in a clear, carrying voice, ‘Would you care to introduce me to your companion?’
Molly leaned back in her chair, her face blank as she stared myopically up at McLellan towering over their table. The man’s stance oozed confidence, and it was obvious that he fully expected Molly to accede to this request.
‘Actually, no I don’t care to,’ Molly said clearly and with deliberate emphasis. ‘I’m on my lunch break and entitled to my privacy, and so is my friend.’
The man sucked in an audible breath.
A titter of muffled laughter rippled through the cafe and Brooke bit the inside of her cheek to prevent giving in to an overwhelming urge to join in.
Molly glanced at her watch. ‘I will be back at the library in half an hour, come and see me then.’ She turned to Brooke, dismissing the man as if he didn’t exist. ‘You were saying when we were so very rudely interrupted?’
Colour flooded up Duncan McLellan’s neck.
It was so patently obvious that he was not used to being rebuffed. Brooke was sure she could hear his teeth grinding. Surprised by Molly’s response, Brooke looked at her friend with renewed respect.
‘Very funny, Ms Cardno,’ he said tight-lipped. ‘I won’t forget such insolence.’
As Duncan McLellan turned on his heel and walked away, the buzz of conversation resumed around them. Brooke leaned across the table and laid her hand on top of Molly’s. ‘Do you think that was wise?’
‘Probably not,’ Molly said, pulling a face, ‘but I’m damned if I’m going to pander to that old goat.’
‘Did Pat send him here do you think?’
‘For sure,’ Molly said with unfettered bitterness, her eyes bright with anger, ‘but this time she’s gone a step too far.’
Brooke caught her lower lip between her teeth. ‘Don’t do anything rash on my behalf.’
‘It’s nothing to do with you. This confrontation between Pat and me has been one hell of a long time in the brewing.’ Molly glanced at her watch and rose from the table. ‘I need to go; I have a few things still to do in my lunchbreak.’
Brooke rose too and they left the cafe together. Outside on the pavement she turned to Molly. ‘If you hear anything that you think we should know about, could I ask you to keep us informed?’
‘For sure.’ Molly gripped Brooke’s arm a moment before she turned and strode away up the street.
Brooke watched until her friend disappeared into the hardware store and then walked in the opposite direction. She needed to collect her father’s prescription from the pharmacy. As she completed the rest of her errands, Brooke mulled over their conversation.
Should she tell Luke?
In his shoes, would I want to know?
The answer was a resounding yes.
Later that evening she sought out Luke. The moment he’d stepped into the house at the end of the day, she sensed he was in a dark and dangerous mood. Instinct made her suspect that something bad had gone down since he’d left the homestead this morning.
Sure, he’d been attentive to Rose and Otto when they talked to him, but there was no spark of animation. When he’d picked at his food, Brooke was sure that something weighed heavily on his mind.
While she didn’t know what was troubling him, she sure as heck knew that what she’d learned today would do nothing to lighten his mood.
After the children were in bed, Luke retreated to his den. Now that they were assured of privacy, she rapped on the door.
‘Enter.’
The terse command was enough to make her courage falter, but she opened the door and walked in. Now that she was here, she found herself at a loss for words.
Luke went to stand up.
‘Don’t,’ she said, relieved to break eye contact with him as she took her time and sat in the chair opposite.
‘Would you like one?’ He lifted his glass of whisky as he leaned back, legs crossed at the ankles. Despite his indolent posture, tension radiated off him in waves.
‘No. I’m good.’
‘You need something?’
The abrupt question, the way he watched her and his dour expression were enough for her to know Luke wasn’t about to make this easy. This did little to quell her anxiety. The strange fire in his eyes as he watched her above the rim of his whisky glass strangled what was left of her nerves.
‘Dad needed his prescriptions renewed and I drove into Sweetwater this morning.’ She threaded her hands together in her lap. Too late, she wished she’d accepted a whisky, suddenly feeling the need for a little Dutch courage.
‘And that’s important enough to burst in on me?’
‘Sorry.’ Brooke decided this was a mistake, that she’d tell him another time, and stood up to leave.
‘Don’t.’ He leaned across the space and caught her wrist, preventing her impulsive flight. ‘Sit down. I’m the one who’s sorry. You’re not responsible for my foul mood.’
The brusque apology caught her by surprise.
She pulled her hand free, sat back down, crossed her arms and tucked her hands under her elbows. ‘Did something happen on the station today?’
He sighed heavily, leaned his head back in the chair and rubbed a hand across his eyes.
‘You could say that.’ Weariness underscored his bleak tone. ‘But that’s not important. What happened in Sweetwater that has you in a tizzy?’
‘I had lunch with Molly Cardno at Cherry’s Cafe.’
‘The short-sighted blonde from the library?’
‘Yeah.’ She hugged her midriff a little tighter.
‘There’s a lot of talk.’
‘Cherry’s is always a hotbed of gossip,’ he muttered, scowling. ‘So why go there? I had the impression that you avoided the place like the plague.’
His attitude wasn’t all that surprising, but Brooke bristled with indignation. ‘That’s rich coming from you.’
‘Come again?’
‘Wasn’t it you who took pains to tell me that I had every right to live and work in Sweetwater?’
‘Touché,’ he acknowledged, holding up a hand.
‘Besides, Cherry has always been good to me.’ She hesitated, and then said in a rush, ‘Molly isn’t a gossip, Luke, but she informed me of the talk doing the rounds. She thinks you should know, and so do I.’
‘Idle talk doesn’t interest me.’ His scowl darkened and his expression grew wary.
‘Me either.’ She unfolded her arms and threaded her hands together in her lap before glancing up at him. ‘But in this case I think that you do need to know.’
He tossed back the rest of his whisky and put the glass down on the side table with a decided bang. ‘So cut to the chase, or leave me in peace.’
Brooke didn’t know Duncan McLellan, but after that brief encounter today, she knew Luke was right to be wary of the man. ‘Duncan McLellan accosted us in the cafe today.’
‘The hell you say!’ Luke jerked bolt upright, demanding, ‘What was he doing there and what did he want with you?’
‘He demanded that Molly introduce me, but she flat out refused.’ Brooke grinned, shaking her head. ‘I strongly suspect that’s never happened to him before.’
‘That young woman’s got grit,’ he said slowly. ‘And McLellan has never been short on nerve.’
Brooke bit on her lower lip, gathering courage. ‘Molly is of the opinion that you should know about the man’s activities in Sweetwater.’
Luke leaned forward in his chair and Brooke knew she now had his undivided attention. ‘What is that bastard up to?’
‘He’s spreading some pretty awful rumours about your sister.’
‘The hell you say! What’s he saying?’
‘Molly overheard him telling Pat that your sister was mentally unstable, that he had medical records to prove that Jenn was not in her right mind when she named you as Rose and Otto’s guardian.’
‘The bastard! That is so wrong.’ Luke expelled a hissing breath as he rose in one fluid movement, eyes glittering, and punched a fist into his other palm. ‘It’s so damn easy to start rumours, a word here, a veiled comment there and stories grow legs. People always assume that where there’s smoke, there’s fire.’
‘Too true.’ Brooke winced; she knew this only too well. After all, she was still dealing with the fallout from Thornton’s actions.
‘I’d like nothing better than to smash his smarmy, self-righteous face right back inside his skull.’ Luke glared at her, his stance that of a pugilist.
‘I’ll forget I heard that,’ she said, shaking her head in dismay. ‘Wild talk has a way of coming back to bite you in the backside. What you do need to do is decide how you’re going to counteract the rumours McLellan is busy spreading.’
‘And how am I meant to do this? You tell me.’
His snide antagonism made her nervous; she didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking.
So, I guessed Luke wouldn’t take kindly to me being the messenger.
She moistened dry lips with the tip of her tongue as Luke paced across the room and stood at the darkened windows, his back to her. The brittle silence stretched to the point of discomfort before he spun around and faced her.
‘Did you know that at Jenn’s and Ian’s funeral, McLellan never so much as spared me or Rose a single word of condolence; he simply laid down the law according to Duncan McLellan.’ Luke turned away and began pacing again in short, agitated steps.
He turned and she sucked in a shaky, uneven breath. Luke’s expression was little short of savage and the glint in his vivid eyes was frightening.
‘McLellan informed me at the funeral that he intends to contest my custody.’ Luke gave a harsh bark of laughter. ‘Not because he loves Rose and Otto, oh no, he wants custody so he can erase their mother’s influence from their lives.’
Horrified, Brooke clutched a hand to her throat. ‘He said that? In front of Rose?’
Luke nodded and turned away.
‘That’s wicked,’ she whispered. ‘How could he say something so callous to a grieving, orphaned child?’
Luke’s lips curled in a sneer. He lifted his hands and let them fall. ‘He not only said it, he was practically rubbing his hands in glee.’
Brooke needed to swallow several times before her voice worked. ‘What did you say? How did you react?’
Luke laughed mirthlessly. The sound raised the hairs on the back of her neck. He shrugged and thrust his hand deep in the pockets of his jeans, the gesture eloquent with disgust.
‘I told the unctuous prick that I’d see him in hell first. And what’s more, I’d like nothing better than to personally ensure him an immediate, first-class, one-way ticket.’
Brooke, for once in her life, was rendered speechless. The lump lodged dead centre of her chest refused to budge. Luke spun away again, strode to the darkened window and stood with his hands pressed hard against the window frame.
The silence stretched.
He never moved. Tension radiated from him in waves.
As she stared at his rigid back, Brooke knew that this encounter had to have been festering in Luke, like a wound gone bad. His antipathy to the children’s grandparents was more understandable.
‘Why didn’t you tell me this earlier?’ she asked, her voice trembling.
‘And burst your bubble?’ he snarled, rounding on her and snapping his fingers. ‘So much for your naive belief that I would do better to build bridges.’
Instinctively, Brooke knew that now was not the time to back down.
Luke’s reaction was not personal. It was a knee-jerk reaction to a gratuitous insult and she happened to be the person closest to hand when he needed to vent.
While she understood Luke’s antipathy, one undisputed fact remained. The McLellans were Rose’s and Otto’s grandparents.
This tie of blood could never be severed.
And therein lay the crux of Luke’s dilemma.
‘Call me naive if you want,’ she said slowly, ‘but I still think it’s in your best interests, and the children’s, to try to open a dialogue with their grandparents rather than engage in a hostile custody battle.’
‘I wish I possessed one tenth of your faith in human nature.’
The fire drained from him as he slumped down into his chair and rubbed a hand across his eyes. Her heart ached, but there were no easy words of comfort she could offer.
‘After today, I have serious doubts about the human race.’ His defeated air tugged at her heartstrings.
So I was right, something bad has gone down on the station today.
What had happened to put Luke in such a foul, confrontational mood? Without pausing to think it over, Brooke rose and sat on the arm of his chair, resting a hand on his shoulder.
‘What happened out there today?’
He glanced up and she winced at the bleak emptiness she saw in his eyes. He shook his head and looked away. With gentle fingers Brooke massaged the tense muscles of his shoulder, but stayed silent. After several minutes, she felt his tension ease.
‘I had to sack two promising young farmhands today,’ he said at last, his voice low and troubled.
Her grip on his shoulder firmed, but she didn’t ask the questions flitting through her mind, instead giving him the option of continuing, or not. He sighed. It was a heavy, despondent sound; she continued to massage his shoulder. He lifted a hand and rested it briefly over hers before letting his drop back into his lap.
‘One of those young men is the sole bread winner for his family.’
‘Do you want to tell me what happened?’
The question hung between them. Luke flexed his hand and slowly clenched it into a fist, repeating the action several times. Would he answer? She didn’t push, still giving him the option of confiding in her or not. He glanced up at her before dropping his gaze once more.
‘They crossed a boundary no decent person will tolerate,’ he said at last, his voice quiet and without inflection. ‘On a station as big as Whitby Downs it’s a given that there will always be animal casualties. We were mustering a herd of breeding cows when one of the cows bolted. The poor bitch got caught in a fence and smashed a hind leg. There was nothing we could do for it except end the animal’s misery.’
‘It was an accident?’
‘Yeah, and none of us were carrying a rifle.’ He glanced up at her. ‘When we got the herd into the holding paddock, I sent the two hands to get the station rifle and ordered them to go back to shoot the cow.’
Luke shook his head and clenched his hand until the knuckles gleamed white, his eyes dark with residual anger.
Brooke flinched, her grip on his shoulder tightened, but she remained silent.
‘I heard a volley of shots, a second volley then a third.’ His voice shook. ‘I thought something had gone horribly wrong. I grabbed my horse and galloped out to where we’d left the down cow—I was running on blind panic.’
‘I can imagine.’ And she could.
As foreman of this huge enterprise, Luke was responsible for the safety of the men who worked under him, and he was also responsible for millions of dollars’ worth of livestock. Faced with the same situation she would be terrified. He lifted a hand and covered hers; she returned his grip, threading her fingers through his.
‘They were using that poor bloody beast for target practice,’ he said, his voice laced with quiet fury. ‘It’s one thing to put an animal down, another thing entirely to deliberately torture an injured animal.’ He broke off, shaking his head. ‘Those two little piss-heads were taking pot shots at that injured beast and definitely not aiming to kill.’
Bile stung Brooke’s throat. ‘That’s disgusting.’
‘You won’t get any argument from me,’ he said grimly. ‘Needless to say, neither of them is still on the Whitby Downs payroll.’