Return to Riversleigh

by Anne Ashby

  Jase had been true to his word. He’d said he’d be in touch if he heard of anything. Could this be the chance I’ve been praying for?

  Despite the chilly temperatures, Shannon rolled down the window as her old car chugged along the main street, across the river, and up to the resort car park.

  Her gaze darted along the windows of the resort as she got out of the car, only just remembering to grab her CV. Is this prospective employer up there somewhere watching me?

  She straightened her shoulders and lifted her head, displaying an oozing confidence. Only when she was tucked in beside a row of huge flax bushes did she straighten her skirt and jacket, and run her hand—whoops, she’d forgotten to undo the handkerchief—through her hair.

  She huffed out a huge breath. The running red on her knuckles had eased. She risked shoving the blood-stained cloth into her pocket.

  Catching a glimpse of herself in the large glass doors as they slid open, Shannon swallowed a groan. Her short hair stood on end, in every compass direction. Oh God! I resemble a scarecrow in a suit.

  Why didn’t I take the few minutes to at least put some product in my hair to make it look like it was spiked on purpose? Instead she looked hideous. I can hope he wants someone to work in his cow shed or something. Somewhere where tidiness doesn’t count. Cows wouldn’t be bothered if I have uncontrollable hair, would they?

  She didn’t actually know anything much about cows. The dairy industry hadn’t been the be-all-and-end-all of the New Zealand economy when she’d last lived in Southland. Most of the farms around had been sheep or crops. Not that she knew anything much about sheep or arable farming either. She did know it was too early for lambing, so he wasn’t a sheep farmer needing an extra hand during the busiest season of the year.

  The rapidity of Shannon’s thoughts as she followed a trim receptionist across the foyer to a door marked “Conference Room One” ground to an abrupt halt as the door swung open and she stared at the dread-head from the other day. Heat streamed from somewhere down her body, up her neck, and into her face. It was the guy who’d been standing in her front garden—well not an actual garden, more a weed incubator—when she’d had yet another screaming match with Thomas. She could do nothing but stare.

  He rose to his feet and patiently waited for her to operate her lower limbs and come into the room. He had to wait for some moments. The receptionist’s attempt to close the door forced Shannon’s legs to shift her forward.

  “Hi.”

  So he wasn’t into formal. A little sigh escaped. He definitely wasn’t dressed for formal. In fact his slacks and polo shirt, while classy, were decidedly casual, although a quality leather jacket hung on the back of his seat.

  He was probably knocking forty and had an arresting face—not classically handsome like a billboard cutout or anything but strong, tanned, full of character. A bump on the bridge of his nose and a couple of little scars—one down the side of his mouth and the other slashed across one eyebrow—suggested he might have had his share of adventures.

  But what man his age still wore his hair in dreads? Someone who cared nothing for other people’s opinions of them? If so, he probably didn’t care how she looked either.

  A sad sigh escaped her lips. Shannon had resorted to chopping her own hair when Thomas was about eight. The pressures of parenting—habitually single parenting—as well as holding down a fulltime job hadn’t allowed much time for personal grooming.

  “Hi.” She managed the single word through dry lips as she sank into the seat he indicated.

  Relieved when he sank onto an adjacent chair and stopped looming over her—being tall herself she wasn’t accustomed to men hovering twenty centimeters over her—Shannon unsuccessfully tried to relax.

  “I’m not sure if you remember me—Luke Prescott. I think I was a couple of years ahead of you at school, in Johnny’s class.” She barely suppressed the wince as his hand tightened around her grazed knuckles but she was sure he noticed. She quickly hid her hand on her knee, under her other one.

  Luke Prescott, Luke Prescott? Her mind was a blank for moments as she tried to put a face to the vague memory swimming around in the fog of her brain. Suddenly her eyes bulged. Luke Prescott! Of course, she remembered him now.

  “Weren’t you the idi…”—she stopped to substitute another word—“the guy who one night tried swinging off the bridge and ended up being rushed to Kew Hospital in the ambulance?”

  Luke threw back his head and burst out laughing. “Oh yeah, my first bridge swing. Man, that was a long time ago.”

  The words and his expression told her all she needed to know. Her lips tightened as every muscle in her body tensed. He was an adrenaline junkie.

  Any hope she’d had for a positive outcome this morning disappeared. She didn’t want near another adrenaline junkie, not now, not ever. She didn’t want to work for him even if he did offer her a job. She’d put up with enough reckless behavior to last her a lifetime.

  “I do remember the carry-on about that night. We were lined up in assembly next day and warned of the dangers of such stupidity.”

  Luke laughed again. “I guess I managed to miss that, although I remember Mum and Dad weren’t too happy with me.”

  “With good cause, I’d suggest.”

  As soon as the words popped out of her mouth, Shannon grimaced. Her opinions weren’t relevant to the conversation. They best be kept deep inside her, although Luke’s smile suggested he wasn’t taking offense.

  Words rushed from Shannon. “I remember Lindsay better, he was in my class.” The youngest of the Prescott boys had been quiet and stable. Shannon remembered having a little crush on him for a while. He’d been nothing like his two brothers who’d been real hellions as they were growing up.

  “He lives in Dunedin now. He’s an accountant, married with four kids.”

  Luke’s tone mocked. He doesn’t relish such a lifestyle for himself then.

  “I heard about Gordon, I’m so sorry.”

  Luke turned his head aside, attempting to hide his expression with the few dreads that fell from over his shoulder. “Yeah, so am I.”

  Shannon frowned at his harsh tone, delivered not from pain or loss, she suspected, but something else entirely.

  An awkward silence developed. Shannon wasn’t sure whether she should break it or not. Instead she wriggled in her seat. Her movement dragged him away from wherever he’d been…back into the room with her.

  “Jase tells me you might need a job?”

  Shannon bit her lip, her need for work warring with her need to distance herself from any recklessness. Desperation forced her to nod her head and reluctantly hold out the folder containing her CV.

  He placed it on the table beside him, not opening it. Instead his long fingers ran across the cover while he appeared deep in thought. “Do you know anything about business?”

  Shannon frowned at the loose question. How am I supposed to reply to that? What about business? When he looked across she allowed her eyebrows to rise, but her lips remained firmly closed. She wasn’t responding without a better idea of what she was responding to.

  Luke jumped to his feet and stalked across the room. “Jase’s wife just told me I need a business plan and I have no idea how to set about getting one.” He swung around to face her. “Do you know? Could you draw up some sort of business plan for me?”

  She nearly laughed as the air rushed out of her. This big, strong adrenaline junkie needed regular, normal help—nothing dangerous, nothing reckless, nothing leading him to killing himself or others. Just ordinary business assistance.

  Shannon smothered the excitement gathering in her stomach. It was too soon to get excited, or hopeful. Don’t start dreaming of a better life for us yet. Her fingers clenched. Even the twinge of discomfort from her grazed knuckles couldn’t dampen her rising anticipation.

  “Perhaps if you read my CV?” she suggested.

  He wandered back to the table, flipping open her folder and flicking throu
gh the pages so quickly she doubted he read anything.

  “I don’t hold too much with this sort of thing.” He shoved the folder aside and sat down opposite her. He slid his seat closer and leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I see you’ve worked in offices. Could you draw up a credible business plan? I have an accountant in Canada who could lend some guidance, but…?”

  Shannon’s mouth dried, her brain whizzed at the speed of sound.

  “I need to show I’m serious about what I intend to do. According to Debra McEwan a business plan will do that for me.”

  Her lips twitched at the frustration in his voice. However reluctant, it appeared he’d accepted the advice he’d been given by Jase’s wife.

  She hadn’t met the high-flying Debra McEwan, but the whole town had been buzzing with the news of their hometown boy marrying such a dominant figure in New Zealand’s business world. That she would take the time to advise Luke suggested he might be onto something interesting. And his acceptance of that advice deserved an enormous bonus point in his favor in Shannon’s eyes. Eric hadn’t been open to advice from anyone, much less a woman.

  “I guess that depends on what sort of business you’re considering and who you’re preparing the plan for. I would need to understand your goals and objectives, your products, intended customers, cash flow, the growth strategies you intend to use, marketing tactics.”

  She leaned back, as he crowded her personal space. “There’s a lot involved with business planning, particularly with a business starting from scratch, which I assume is the case here?”

  He nodded, relaxing back into his seat, a little smile playing around his lips. “This could be right up your alley, I hope, if your early interest in the outdoors remains?”

  She gave a half-hearted shrug. Marriage to Eric had dulled her enthusiasm for the outdoor pursuits she’d studied at university. He’d always taken everything to the extreme. They could never go for a quiet walk in the bush, or kayak down a gentle river. There had to be risks and excitement and danger attached to everything.

  “I’m going to build an adventure park on the back of our farm.” He gave a twisted grin. “Debra suggested without some business nous, I’d be building a playground for our family.”

  Shannon’s heart slammed against her chest. Her mouth fell open for a second before she regained control of her jaw and jammed it shut.

  Luke frowned. “What?”

  Shannon shook her head, hardly believing what Luke had just said.

  “Do you think I’m crazy or something?”

  Shannon smiled at the belligerence in his voice and knew she had to share the reason for her reaction. “When I was a kid we lived next door to a family with a Down’s Syndrome son.”

  Shannon’s voice softened as she allowed herself to remember the happy and fun-loving Gareth. Even though Riversleigh wasn’t a large town, she doubted Luke would have known Gareth existed, little alone remembered him. “He was such a great kid. We had a basketball hoop on our driveway, he loved playing donkey.”

  She chuckled. “He’d beat me every time—I wouldn’t let him win—he’d just land those shots from anywhere. We’d go swimming together, too. He was keen to try new things…” Her throat tightened. “He died in a car accident when he was fourteen.”

  Luke made no attempt to speak, but his gaze locked on her face, a face she knew was tinged with sadness.

  “I recognized there were many other physical things he could have experienced, if they’d been available. That’s why I did an outdoor pursuits degree. I dreamed I’d set up a park for disabled kids one day.”

  “What stopped you?”

  Shannon gave a disheartened shrug. “There wasn’t too much interest in the idea, nor any philanthropists around at the time.”

  “So you gave up?”

  Nails dug into her palms. Her grazed knuckles protested at the sudden pressure they were subjected to. He didn’t need to know why she’d shelved this particular dream long ago—along with so many others.

  “I’ll be getting onto it real soon. I’m just waiting for my next major lottery win,” she snapped. “I guess I must have squandered my last million or two.”

  Instead of rising to her taunt, Luke sat silently tugging at one of his dreads, frowning thoughtfully across at her.

  When she could tolerate the silence no longer, she clenched her eyes shut for a second and stood, guessing the interview was over. My big mouth. I’ve blown it.

  Damn! She wanted to kick something, punch something. She needed a job, any job. Hadn’t she learned to keep her emotions locked away inside her? She’d had enough practice.

  This guy wasn’t interested in her social conscience. She should have kept her mouth shut. But it had been such a shock to hear his plans. To hear someone else—

  “I’m afraid my plans are about as far away from your ideas as they could possibly be, but if you’d be willing to take the job, it’s yours.”

  Chapter Five

  This woman failed to compare with the image Luke had dredged up from school. Oh, her spiked hair still had a suggestion of red, but not the carrot color he had associated with the former Shannon McFarlane. His gaze dropped to survey her slender body before he grasped his actions and averted his eyes.

  Luke smiled at the shocked expression on the face in front of him. She’d given up hope of being offered a job when she stood, which hastened his decision.

  The abject disappointment—and he suspected a hefty dose of chagrin—he’d witnessed on her face slowly changed into a wondrous smile transforming her in a way he’d never suspected possible. Her dark eyes sparkled, her skin fairly glowed, and the slightly misaligned teeth were ringed by the most luscious lips.

  He jerked his gaze away from those lips before his imagination took him places he didn’t intend going. He needed a long-term business associate, something not easy to find in this town. To allow any physical reaction to endanger this singular prospect was crazy.

  He jumped to his feet and circled the conference table on the pretension of retrieving the tube with his plans. Without looking at her again, he shook out the roll of drawings and spread them out, swinging them around for her to study from her side of the desk.

  He sucked a deep breath in through clenched teeth as she bent over the drawings. The gaping of her top allowed him ample opportunity to glimpse the hidden delights beneath.

  “What I have in mind isn’t what you envisioned all those years ago.” His tone came out harsh. He wasn’t some philanthropist. He needed to mentally distance himself from the woman. Making her understand he wasn’t building his park for the disabled would be a start. Far from it, he aimed for the opposite end of the market, extreme adventurers like himself.

  “This is quite a venture.” She moved along the table, studying the drawings. “You must have been planning it for some time.”

  Luke didn’t answer. She needn’t know acute boredom had forced him to reassess the life he now endured.

  “Have you settled on where you’ll start?”

  “You mean after I have a business plan?”

  She smiled again with only half the mega wattage of before, but it was a smile.

  Talking in depth about his drawings set aside the ridiculous thoughts he’d had for a moment. Delighted when Shannon tentatively offered a couple of comments—one to slightly alter the layout of the confidence course—any hesitation he had about employing her disappeared.

  “Can you come and see the place now?” Sharing the venture with someone interested had hiked his enthusiasm. He wanted to start right away. “The farm’s a few minutes’ drive up the Murihuku Valley. We can grab some lunch there and I’ll have you back in Riversleigh well before school’s out.”

  A blush colored her cheeks as she retrieved her CV folder and waited for him to roll away his drawings. Is she remembering our last encounter? Probably.

  Luke phoned Marcia, asking if she could stretch lunch for one more.

  They walked ac
ross the hotel foyer. Outside a cold wind had blown up. Shannon turned up the collar of her jacket and hurried across to the car he indicated.

  “You might have difficulty enticing people to enjoy these adventures during the winter months.”

  “I know.” He backed the car around and drove out onto the road. “There will without a doubt be a few summer-only pursuits.”

  “Like the mud slides?”

  He grinned and nodded. Some of the starch had leaked but she still displayed a tightly-controlled reserve. Somehow he had to change that. He needed a relaxed working relationship. He needed her to offer ideas or argue if she disagreed. He needed a partner, not a mindless robot.

  On the drive through the Longwood range he set about telling her exactly that. “Once you see the working environment and know what you’re taking on, you can decide whether you want the job.”

  A loud sigh rattled beside him. “I need a job, Luke. I’d given up finding anything in Riversleigh.” He could feel her gaze locked on him, but the windy road allowed him nothing more than a quick glance toward her. “At the risk of putting me at a disadvantage with my employer, I’m grabbing this with both hands. It sounds more interesting than scrubbing floors, and I was preparing myself to do that.”

  Luke frowned. “Didn’t your husband leave you well cared-for?” He knew the money needed to finance some of the adventures Eric Turner had gained fame—or infamy—for undertaking. Surely he had made adequate provision for his wife and child before lavishing huge amounts of money on himself and his ego-building?

  Wary accusation sounded in her voice. “Did you know Eric?”

  “I met him a couple of times.”

  Something in his own tone probably alerted her to his impression of the man. Eric Turner had been a first-class idiot, reckless, and uncaring for the safety of others. Luke wouldn’t have accompanied him down a street, let alone on any trek. It had been no surprise to hear that, after ignoring the advice of his guides, he’d died in a storm on K2.

  Luke glanced at Shannon when the road allowed a moment of inattention. She didn’t say any more, didn’t answer his question. Not that it mattered. Luke already had his answer. He’d known before he asked. Eric Turner had left nothing for his family but heartache.