The Outback Engagement

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The Outback Engagement Page 12

by Margaret Way


  “It was for the best, Darcy,” Doctor McQueen had smiled at her with such sympathy and held her hand. “Nature’s way of telling you. There’s no reason whatever you can’t have other children but next time, Darcy, you must remember to take it easy. No long strenuous hours in the saddle. You know that.”

  Curt came home to a very different Darcy. A changed woman. Nothing seemed important other than she had lost their baby. Lost their baby when the man she adored was running around with another woman. No, not a woman. Just a girl with a lovely coltish body. How it all started she didn’t know but while she waited and shrank from the inevitable Curt didn’t act on his big city romance. And all the while her father drove her crazy telling her she’d done the right thing.

  Why if you married him you’d have to cope with his infidelities for the rest of your life.

  Darcy slid the photographs she had lived with into the manila folder and shoved it to the back of the drawer. Even now they had the power to devastate her. She had fretted terribly in the days before her miscarriage, trying to lose herself in hard work. Of course she hadn’t been aware she was pregnant so she needed no forgiveness nevertheless she couldn’t forgive herself. She constantly thought about their child. How it would have looked had it lived. She envisaged a beautiful healthy child. She had no one outside Doctor Sarah to help her over it and she had to keep her inner devastation from her father. It had been a terrible time. How could it have been otherwise? She couldn’t forgive herself. Curt mightn’t forgive her either.

  Her mind fled away to what she was going to do about the will. It wasn’t the money. There was far more of it than she had ever imagined. Probably her frugal way of life had helped. In view of the tremendous amount of money her father had left, it seemed clear he’d been nothing short of a miser. The fact he had overlooked her contribution and unswerving loyalty was the really killing thing. It had pushed her to a new level of thought. She had expected to be highly suspicious of Courtney but her feelings of suspicion and hostility had been at most fleeting. All she could see was her little sister, the one she had loved and protected. Hating was a terrible way of life.

  She was drawn back to the radiant beauty of the night. There was movement in the garden. Someone was out there watching her. Instantly she came out of her troubled reverie. She moved to the balustrade, staring towards the shadowy pockets of the garden. Her heart was thumping, not with fright—no one could hurt her here on her own land—but a wayward excitement so powerful it almost paralysed her.

  She knew every inch of the extensive grounds, the massive date palms, the desert oaks, the low growing colonies of drought tolerant shrubs with their silver and sage foliage, the raised beds of perennials that smelled so sweetly, pervading the area with their unforgettable scents.

  There near the giant panicles of bell flowers! She saw him clearly now. The outline of a tall, rangy man, the gleam of his pale shirt. He raised his hand in salute.

  “Curt,” she whispered, intent on tracking his progress.

  He was making for the rear stairs which led to the side verandah and her bedroom. Courtney had her mother’s old room which faced the front of the homestead. Adam was in the west wing where Curt was supposed to be. She had several rooms of the east wing to herself. Her own choice. Her own haven.

  He was coming! It seemed like a miracle.

  She heard a timber floorboard creak as she rushed down the verandah, her freshly shampooed hair a cloud of scented softness all around her. She felt flooded with adrenalin, a great surge of it, desire mixed with extreme nervousness. What was it he really wanted of her? A woman for all seasons? A wife, a mother for his children? Had he decided he really needed her? That’s what it was all about. She had to be needed. She had never been needed in her whole life.

  He was there at the top of the stairs before her, darkly handsome sculpted features, eyes shining, reaching for her with such purpose, such strength and hunger she felt faint.

  “You didn’t really think you were going to escape, did you?” he asked, low-voiced. His mouth moved down over her cheek to her throat, revelling in her woman’s softness against his hard frame, the fragrance of her hair and her skin, her body naked beneath the seductive satin, begging to be touched. An avalanche of pleasure!

  She knew from the look in his eyes and his lovely harsh breathing he was going to spend the night in her bed, the two of them going off into their own world, marvelling at its richness.

  The time she had spent on herself had been done to please him. Now she felt incandescent. Desire for him danced in her head and her blood. She wasn’t as naïve as she’d been in those long-ago days. She knew how to protect herself.

  “I’m glad you’re wearing that nightdress,” he murmured so softly, she could barely hear him. “I’ll let you keep it on for a little while.”

  Without another word he lifted her high in his arms, carrying her along the verandah to the moon drenched bedroom that was waiting for them.

  She reached for him, but her hand clutched at air.

  What time was it?

  Darcy opened her eyes. Sunlight was flooding the room. Curt wasn’t there, but every detail of his splendid body was imprinted on her flesh. She had fallen off to sleep with his arms encircling her, her body curled into his like a fern’s frond. For as long as she lived she would never forget what had happened within these very walls. The magic of returning his loving without restraint.

  Now she was shocked at how late it was. Eight-thirty. She had developed a ritual of waking at dawn. How Curt had managed to get himself up and away was proof of his vastly superior strength. She would have thought they had exhausted all their energy making love through the night. She was still basking in the wondrous after-effects. She stretched luxuriously like a cat beneath the sheet he must have thrown over her. She still felt abuzz. Her nightgown-—a wicked indulgence that had paid off—was lying in a lustrous pool on the rug. Hadn’t she subconsciously foreseen the night she would be wearing it? Curt had made her feel dazzlingly beautiful, womanly. He had melted her very skin.

  For a fleeting second she considered staying in bed all day. Revelling in the sheer decadence. The past was the past. Mightn’t it be preferable to let it lie? Make a fresh start? Doctor Sarah would never divulge her secret. Was that the way to handle it? Or was it wrong? There she was again, taking two steps forward and two steps back. But last night had been a triumph. No one could rob her of that.

  She found Courtney in the kitchen, comforted by the sweet smile that hadn’t an ounce of speculation in it.

  “You look like you’re floating,” Courtney smiled. “The men have gone.”

  “Damn, I slept in.” Darcy sat down at the kitchen table. “The first time since I can’t remember when.”

  “It did you good,” Courtney said with approval. “You look radiant. What would you like for breakfast? I’ve squeezed some orange juice. There’s one of the Bowen mangoes left. They were lovely. Some scrambled eggs, maybe?”

  Darcy gave her sister her first truly uncomplicated smile. “That would be a feast! Dad and I got into the way of having a light breakfast then taking off on the job. Not the way to do it, I know, but it was easier to placate him. One had to tread very carefully with Dad.”

  “You must have had a rotten time,” Courtney said, pouring a glass of orange juice and placing it before her sister.

  “Thanks.” Darcy picked up the glass. “It’s weird, but I never saw it then. Everything I did I did for love. It wasn’t until you turned up and Dad bundled me into the background I got the message. I suppose if he hadn’t died I could have gone on sacrificing my life. For a little while longer anyway. What time did they leave?”

  “Well before seven. Curt was anxious to get away.” She shook off thoughts of Adam and the way he had looked at her before he left. Dark eyes on hers the whole time. Challenging, knowing, mocking. Intimate. As though they had crossed some boundary together. It shook her, stripping her of her customary poise. She had never see
n such a look in another man’s eyes. “Curt has some stock agent coming,” she added belatedly. “Ted something…” Courtney searched her memory bank for the name, but the only name that stuck was Adam.

  “Jensen,” Darcy supplied, downing her orange juice, cold and delicious.

  “That’s it!” Courtney began to whip up the eggs and cream.

  “Did you fix them breakfast like me?” Darcy smiled.

  “I did. Curt’s so easy to be around, but I can’t say the same for Adam. He really puts me on the defensive.”

  “He’s a lawyer, dear.” Darcy smiled. “By the way, I’m not going to contest the will.”

  Courtney gazed back, almost desperately. “It wasn’t fair. We all know it wasn’t. I don’t need all that money, Darcy. I’d probably be happier without it.”

  “Nevertheless we’ll share it,” Darcy said, with genuine acceptance. “The one thing I don’t want you doing is interfering in the affairs of the station. You simply don’t know anything about it.”

  Courtney’s expression was rueful. She set the mixing bowl down on the table. “But I want to, Darcy. Surely you can appreciate that? It’s my heritage too, but I promise I’ll defer to your judgment. As far as I’m concerned, you’re the Boss.”

  “You mean Curt’s the Boss,” Darcy answered wryly, a little taken aback by her sister’s fervour. “I’m absolutely certain Adam will have his say as well. Let’s face it, he’s the legal eagle.”

  “And doesn’t he act it,” Courtney said, with uncharacteristic waspishness. “But obviously we need one.” She resumed what she was doing. “I just hate it the way he looks at me.” Her smooth cheeks turned pink. “It spooks me.” And excites. “I don’t see trust there.”

  “Lawyers are like that. Suspicious,” Darcy soothed, enjoying the delicious flavour of the mango. “So you want to be part of the action?”

  “I certainly do. I’ll do my very best to learn.”

  “There’s a lot you can learn,” Darcy said, feeling a sense of pleasure in her sister. “I’m all for female empowerment, but running a station this size needs a man. It’s just too tough. A farm we could handle. A big cattle station, no. You’ve met Dad’s overseer, Tom McLaren. He’s a good man. Dad depended on him a lot but Tom wouldn’t want full responsibility for running the station. He took orders. Like me. Dad was like a battle ship, and we all followed in his wake. Then there are his other business affairs. He was masterly at business if not as a husband and father. It’s going to be a big job.”

  “I’m well aware of that,” Courtney said, turning over the situation in her mind.

  “But we’ve got help,” Darcy said briskly. “McIvor brought in the top guns, which isn’t to say they’re going to run everything their way, damn it. That I’m not prepared to take lying down.”

  “I see no reason why we should. I do think Dad put a lot on Curt, knowing what a big job he has already.”

  “He’s up to it,” Darcy said. “My impression of Adam is he’s a straight shooter. I can’t see him acting unethically in any circumstances. Curt went into bat for him. Dad was antagonistic towards Adam probably because Adam wasn’t in awe of him. Dad expected that and mostly he got it. Dad liked people to cringe a little.”

  “Even I remember that.” Courtney turned away to the refrigerator for some butter. “Are you sure you’re okay with my doing up the homestead?”

  “Good grief, yes. It desperately needs doing up. I wasn’t able to do much. Dad always said he couldn’t tolerate change. What he really couldn’t tolerate was handing over money. It’s not uncommon with rich men.”

  “Mum must have had the right people working for her to have managed such a good divorce settlement,” Courtney said wryly.

  “And how he hated it! I used to think I would never marry hearing Dad rave on about infidelity and divorce. Come to that I’m not married.”

  “You will be,” Courtney said as though nothing on earth could prevent it.

  Darcy could feel herself flush. To cover it she made a business of tucking a long strand of hair back. “Though I’m tempted to laze about all day, I thought when we’re finished here, we might step into Dad’s study. I seldom got invited in. I used to do a lot of accounting work for him in the evening but in my own study. There was lots of stuff he wouldn’t let me in on. I wouldn’t be surprised if all his chickens came home to roost one day and we’ll have to sort it out. Know much about book keeping?”

  “I have a degree in Business Administration,” Courtney said modestly, pouring the egg mixture into the pan.

  “Gosh, what a master stroke!” Darcy burst out laughing.

  “I’m absolutely certain I can help you,” Courtney waited patiently for the eggs to set before she began stirring.

  “What about your own job?” Darcy asked after a minute. “You must enjoy it?” She realized with a decided pang she would miss Courtney dreadfully when she went away. Only so much a girl should be expected to bear.

  Courtney removed the eggs from the heat, then ladled them onto a warm plate.

  “You make me want to start thumbing through cook books.” Darcy looked at the creamy pile with approval. “So what about the job?”

  Courtney sat down at the huge kitchen table. “I enjoy it of course, but I want you to know.” Her voice broke a little. “I don’t enjoy anything as much as being here with you.”

  Darcy was quiet for a moment, fighting the old demons that weren’t ready to give in. “That’s lovely, Courtney, but is it the truth?” She had to protect herself against future shocks.

  For answer, Courtney reached out and seized hold of her sister’s hand. “Yes, it is the truth. Don’t you start seeing me as someone you can’t trust. For all the years we’ve been apart I would have thought you’d know the essential me better than that?”

  “But you’ll go away.” Darcy’s jewel coloured eyes looked into the middle distance. “You’ll get a kick out of doing up the house—I will too—then your old, glamorous life will beckon.”

  “What glamorous life?” Courtney scoffed. “It’s a nice life, sure, but I definitely want more than I’m getting. I want my sister back. I want my family back. I want to work on something that’s my own. I never left Murraree because I wanted to, Darcy. I left because I was forced to go with Mum. I love Murraree too. I’m damned sure I can learn to ride a horse.”

  “Of course you can,” Darcy harrumphed. “Dad perfected the art of frightening the hell out of you. What are you trying to say?”

  “What I’m trying to say.” Courtney leaned across the table, her big blue eyes earnest. “I’d like to stay. We always were terrifically compatible. You remember that don’t you?”

  “You were the sweetest little thing,” Darcy said gently. She remembered all the nights after they’d gone when she eventually fell off to sleep with her pillow wet with tears.

  Courtney said nothing for a moment, overcome. “So I can help you, Darcy. You need help. Together we can achieve a lot more than if we stood alone. I love you. You’re very special to me.”

  So eager to please! Darcy found it nigh impossible to keep her distance. When she looked up, the light of fire was in her eyes. “For one thing, we could show the men the calibre of the women they’re dealing with,” she said decisively.

  “Show them our true worth,” Courtney seconded.

  “Even Dad said I was as sharp as a tack,” Darcy reminisced. “You know, I think I’ve got goose bumps.” She rubbed her hands up and down her bare arms.

  “I have too,” Courtney laughed. “If it suits you, I’d love to make Murraree my home. We’d be together. I’d have to go back to Brisbane to finalise my affairs but I’d be back as soon as I could. There are plenty standing in line for my job so my boss wouldn’t be too upset. You shouldn’t be here alone, anyway.”

  Darcy felt it necessary to issue the warning. “It’s not an easy life, Courtney,” she said, looking at her sister hard. “Don’t burn all your bridges. It would break my heart to see you wilt o
ut here. Mum did.” It was the first time she had been able to manage that one precious word. Mum.

  “Yes, she did, but I’m not our mother. I’m a stronger person, Darcy. Like you I didn’t break under the deprivation we both suffered. I’m a serious woman with serious ideas. Murraree is our inheritance. Let’s make it work.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  AND make it work they did. As a team Darcy discovered with her sister taking over the domestic duties and most of the paper work she was freed up to supervise the on going work on the station. Without really waiting for Curt’s approval—she certainly made sure she told him—she had hired another couple of station hands and taken on a jackeroo, an adventurous young man who wanted an action packed year on an Outback station before taking up his University studies. All three new employees were settling in quickly enough though Tom McLaren, a highly proficient bushman, had to keep an eye on the new jackeroo who had more than a touch of derring-do for his own good.

  The excitement of restoration was well underway. It had began the same week Courtney had returned from cutting her ties in Brisbane. Hugh De Lisle, a designer who had begun his career as an architect, and who had masterminded restorations for several well-known pastoral families had taken on the job. It was Kath Berenger who had acted as go-between having availed herself of De Lisle’s services some years before.

  He and his assistant Harriet Gibson had arrived by charter flight. De Lisle, in his late forties, came across as a charming affable man who understood how to get on with clients, listened to their likes and dislikes, allowed them input at the same time knowing exactly what he intended to do. Harriet, an elegant Madonna-like creature had surprisingly little to say, leaving it to her boss but obviously she too knew what she was about.

 

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