Outback Surrender

by Margaret Way

  This love of mine! he thought, filled with tenderness and desire. So precious. How had he got through life without loving Shelley? From this day forth there were new worlds to conquer. The prospect was tremendously exciting. He knew he could accomplish anything with Shelley by his side.

  EPILOGUE

  Mulgaree Station, four months later

  ACROSS the huge bedroom Shelley caught her reflection in the free-standing cheval mirror. She looked beautiful, more beautiful than she had ever hoped to look in her life. Her wedding dress was gold-tinged ivory silk, with a strapless bodice hand-sewn with exquisite crystals, tiny pearls and beads. The skirt, tightly waisted, was similarly decorated, billowing in a wonderfully romantic fashion to the floor.

  She wore a three-quarter veil, the tulle bordered for some inches in the same ivory-gold shot silk as her gown, held in place by a diadem of roses fashioned from ivory and gold silk. It curved around her head, the colour and lustre accenting the red-gold of her hair, which she'd left flowing because that was the way Brock liked it. That he loved her so deeply she still found astonishing. Brock was her future, her dream, her heart.

  Around her neck and in her ears she wore his gift to her.

  "With your skin, it just has to be pearls," he'd told her, bending to kiss her cheeks, her mouth, her throat.

  And what pearls they were! The finest in the world. They had flown to Broome in the Northern Territory, the headquarters of the Australian pearling industry, to select them. They were perfectly matched, their lustre unique.

  "I want nothing less for my bride!" Brock had declared proudly.

  Today she and Brock were drawing a line between their past life and their future. The past, with alll its traumas, pain and uncertainties, had found closure. Their future they faced together. Happiness in place of grief.

  She had two bridesmaids. One was her childhood friend, Nicole Cavanagh, a redhead like herself, but so much more beautiful, Shelley privately thought. Nicole had recently returned to her illustrious family home, Mara Station, after several years abroad, living and working in Paris and New York. Nicole had her own dramatic story to tell. Traumas she hadn't yet said goodbye to. Shelley realized with a feeling of accomplishment that Nicole had gained comfort from renewing their friendship over the last few weeks.

  Her other bridesmaid was her sister, Amanda. Shutting Amanda and the family out of her big day would have been more than she could deal with.

  Philip was Brock's groomsman. His best man was Drake McClelland. A name to contend with. It had bothered Shelley immensely at the beginning, bringing Nicole and Drake together in the bridal party, but Brock had convinced her it might be a good thing. The Cavanaghs and the McClellands, once the greatest friends, had been turned into mortal enemies for over a decade because of one terrible event that had destroyed the relationship. Shelley didn't want to dwell on it on this day of days, when happiness reigned.

  Brock might have banished Philip's mother from Mulgaree for ever, but these past hectic months had forged a bond between the cousins. They had reached a private agreement whereby Philip had a substantial stake in Kingsley Holdings with Brock holding the reins. Philip, with the help of an excellent overseer, now lived and worked on Strathdownie Station, a central link in the chain. These days he was a different man. He'd been able to move on, though Shelley suspected he would always have a soft spot for her.

  Although he had been in the ideal position to, Brock had not pressed charges against Philip's mother and her lover Gerald Maitland. Not a decision taken easily or lightly, it had all been designed to protect the family. Frances had received an allowance from her son and a dire warning to stay away; Gerald Maitland had been made to retire from his prestigious firm, citing a need to "wind down". The decree was absolute. Both obeyed. In many families some things were kept secret. Nevertheless, private justice had to be served.

  In preparation for the wedding Mulgaree homestead had been transformed. A small army of decorators had been brought in, working closely with Shelley who had carried with her innumerable sketches to influence the designers. In a way it had been like realizing a dream, especially when the team had taken her creativity seriously. There wasn't one fabric or wall-covering she hadn't picked.

  "We could give you a job any time!" she had been told constantly, and this was not flattery but genuine admiration.

  Her job, her life's work, was to become Brock's perfect partner. Wife, mother, best friend. She always consulted him, but he was kept very busy indeed with Kingsley affairs.

  "I want what you want. It's that simple," he'd told her. "I couldn't say that to too many people," he'd added dryly, hugging her to his side. Indeed, he had been very critical of the gloomy old mansion, asking that light and fresh air should be brought in.

  And from the old Kingsley mansion a new house had been born.

  At precisely three p.m., as the lovely processional music began in the grand formal drawing room, Shelley put her hand over her father's. Today he looked so much better than he had looked in a very long time, and even her mother's face was soft and pretty with pleasure. Since she'd woken up Shelley had had a sensation of being very close to her twin, Sean. In her heart she knew he would always be there.

  Her father's hand tightened on hers. Strong hands. There were no whispered words. No talk of love. No plea for forgiveness. But still he tried to communicate through his hand. She would have to accept this as enough.

  They paused on the threshhold.

  Everything came into vivid focus.

  Up ahead was her wonderful bridegroom with his attendants. All of them six footers plus. All of them cattlemen from family dynasties. Pioneers of the industry and descendants of some of the first settlers to open up the vast Outback. They were standing in front of great banks of beautiful, fragrant white flowers-orchids, lilies, roses, clouds and clouds of white baby's breath.

  Each step would take Shelley closer to Brock. She knew from the set of his tall lean body, so marvellously elegant in his wedding finery, that he was struggling not to turn round and look back at her.

  A smile bloomed radiantly across Shelley's face. A wonderful light lit her eyes.

  Let life begin! She was ready for the challenge.