‘Yes.’
Something flickered in his eyes and he took her hand and turned her towards the back door as Merlene strode in.
‘Morning, boss! Morning, Chattie! Just went down to get the milk. Tell you what, it’s a pleasure to have the place to ourselves, well, more…or…less,’ Merlene wound down with a frown as she took in the picture Steve and Chattie made, only to demand then, ‘Is this what I think it is?’
‘Depends,’ Steve replied. ‘We’re getting married.’
‘I knew that!’
‘How?’ Chattie asked incredulously.
‘What I mean to say is,’ Merlene amended herself, ‘I knew he’d do things by the book. Well, well, well! I don’t think I could have done better for you if I’d chosen her myself.’
‘Thank you,’ Steve said gravely.
‘OK! When? And where?’
‘Here, of course—’ He stopped. ‘Actually, we haven’t discussed that yet, Merlene.’ He looked humorous.
‘If the things I’ve been hearing are true,’ Merlene said, ‘the sooner you do, the better.’
Chattie blushed, Steve looked briefly irritated, then shrugged. ‘The bush telegraph at its worst.’
‘You shouldn’t go around kissing her in public, then,’ Merlene retorted, but came up to Chattie and shook her hand. ‘You done good, kid. I have to tell you even Slim would approve and there’s a hard man to please.’
Steve had to leave shortly after that but he promised he’d be back for lunch and had the afternoon free so they could make some plans.
‘One thing,’ he said just before he departed. ‘What does Bridget know about all this?’
‘She has no idea I’m—’ She stopped abruptly as she wondered how to phrase it. Doing it all for her—was what she’d been about to say. But even if she was being pressured into marrying Steve, was that completely true?
‘Chattie?’
She looked up at him at last. ‘She doesn’t know what precipitated it,’ she said carefully.
‘I see. Doesn’t know that you’re going to be a martyr on her behalf?’ he suggested softly.
She stared into his dark eyes. ‘I didn’t say that.’
‘No. But something’s bothering you,’ he countered. ‘How many times do I have to kiss you and hold you to get you to believe—?’
‘Don’t say any more, Steve,’ she advised. ‘You’ve made that point and I accept it. I can’t help feeling a little shell-shocked, though.’ She gestured helplessly. ‘We’ve only known each other for little more than a week.’
‘Interesting you should make that point. Nadine and I knew each other for nine months before we got married.’
Chattie blinked. ‘That long? So why…?’
‘Why didn’t it last?’ he drawled. ‘We didn’t have enough in common. Why don’t you reflect on that until I get back?’ He turned to go but turned back. ‘And this.’ He pulled her into his arms and kissed her until she was breathless. Then he left without another word.
‘So you’re going to do it?’
Chattie had brought a breakfast tray for Bridget and her sister was sitting propped up in bed with the tray on her knees. She had immediately noticed the engagement ring on Chattie’s left hand.
‘Yes.’ Chattie sat down in an armchair with the coffee she’d brought for herself, and added honestly, ‘I don’t know if I’m on my head or my heels.’
‘That’s just how I felt with Mark,’ Bridget said reminiscently and began to look tearful, but she battled it resolutely and started to eat her boiled egg. ‘Isn’t it funny, though,’ she said, ‘that the two people I love most should have such differing views of Steve Kinane?’
Do we? Chattie wondered. I’m not so sure…
‘Steve explained about the problems he and Mark have, Bridge,’ she said, however. And she went on to tell Bridget what Steve had said.
‘I guess that makes sense.’ Bridget pushed her egg away and reached for her coffee. ‘You know what he’d really like to do?’
‘Mark? Something artistic?’ Chattie hazarded.
Bridget shook her head. ‘Apparently he’s very good with horses.’
Chattie grimaced. ‘Must run in the family, so is Steve. Go on.’
‘Well, he’d love to be a racehorse trainer.’
‘Why doesn’t he?’ Chattie asked slowly.
‘I think it only came to him recently that the artistic side he inherited from his mother wasn’t strong enough for any career in it. And, from what you’ve told me, I can’t help wondering if he felt he would be letting his mother down somehow if he didn’t go that way.’
‘Perhaps,’ Chattie conceded.
‘It would be enough to make you a bit mixed-up, wouldn’t it?’ Bridget said.
‘Yes.’ Chattie drained her coffee.
‘Still and all…’ Bridget stretched ‘…that’s enough of Mark. I’ve got to stop thinking about it, somehow. I will,’ she assured Chattie.
Chattie got up. ‘Have a shower and get dressed and I’ll show you around a bit more.’ But as she left the room she couldn’t help wondering if Bridget might be growing up at last, and quite fast.
Steve didn’t make it for lunch—Bill delivered the message to the homestead, adding that Chattie’s presence was required at the bunkhouse at two o’clock.
‘What for?’ Chattie asked him.
He shrugged. ‘Search me, I’m only the messenger. But the boss said wear jeans and boots if you’ve got any.’
Chattie frowned. ‘A cross-country hike?’
‘Dunno.’
At two o’clock Chattie and Bridget presented themselves at the bunkhouse, to find Harriet in attendance.
‘You must be Chattie’s sister,’ Harriet said and shook Bridget’s hand. ‘I’m Mark and Steve’s cousin—which will make me your baby’s second cousin or something like that.’
Chattie took an unexpected breath, not sure whether to be angry or relieved that the news had been broken so summarily.
But Harriet turned to her with an engaging grin. ‘And I guess we’ll be cousins-in-law. Congratulations! Just don’t forget what I told you,’ she added in an undertone. ‘OK, Steve’s got plans for you and I’ve got plans for Bridget.’
Chattie opened her mouth but Steve came round the corner of the bunkhouse leading two saddled horses.
Half an hour later, Chattie was mounted on one of the horses, alongside Steve mounted on the other and connected by a leading rein. Bridget and Harriet had stayed to witness the initiation lesson Chattie had received—with some hilarity—then Harriet had shepherded Bridget towards her Range Rover.
‘I don’t know,’ Chattie started to say anxiously.
‘It’ll be all right,’ Steve assured her quietly. ‘Harriet has pledged to be on her best behaviour. She’s taking her home with her for coffee and a chat, that’s all. Harriet’s as bad as Lucy Cook when it comes to fashion and I thought the sooner we get all the awkwardness out of the way, the better it will be for Bridget.’
‘Harriet can be staggeringly undiplomatic, though,’ Chattie pointed out.
‘Harriet will do exactly as I told her.’ He folded his arms and regarded her gravely. ‘Did you not once tell me, only yesterday as it happens, that you would love to ride a horse?’
‘Well, yes, but—’
‘Good. She’s yours.’ He indicated the chestnut one of the two horses.
Chattie’s mouth fell open.
‘She’s a four-year-old mare, a stock horse with a lovely nature, and I’d already decided to turn her into a hack. Shall we give it a try?’
As a recipe for having the wind taken completely out of one’s sails, being given your own horse and then to receive a riding lesson on it was unparalleled Chattie discovered.
Hard as she tried to bear in mind Steve’s autocratic ways, she couldn’t hold onto her resentment. Nor could she stifle the thought that he was right, the sooner the awkwardness of it all was banished, the better for, not only Bridget, but also all concerne
d. Finally, the pleasure in what she was doing took over completely.
‘You could be a natural,’ he told her as she gained the confidence to break into a slow canter. ‘Don’t forget the angle to have your feet in the stirrups—heels down, toes up.’
‘Why is that?’
‘Should you ever have to get off in hurry, you can just slip your feet out. Shall we have a bit of a break?’ He indicated a patch of gum-trees beside a dam.
She nodded, and when they dismounted they gave the horses a drink and he showed her how to tie them to trees on a long rein so they could crop the grass.
‘What’s her name?’ she asked as she stroked the mare’s nose.
‘Would you believe Cathy Freeman?’
Chattie looked amused. ‘That’s an odd name for a stock horse!’
‘I know, but Bill names all the stock horse foals and he uses sportsmen and women. We have a Tiger Woods, a Pete Sampras and a Venus Williams.’
Chattie laughed delightedly, and when Steve sank down onto the grass she followed suit. ‘Could we bring Rich along the next time we do this?’
‘Sure. Rich is another one to take to this place almost as if he was born to it. Chattie, tell me about your parents?’
She pulled a stalk of grass, chewed it and looked at him questioningly.
‘I just wondered what there might be in your background to account for…’ he spread an arm ‘…the way you could almost have been born to this.’
A spark of interest lit her grey eyes. ‘You could be right. My father was a stock and station agent. He said it was the next best thing to owning a station, which he couldn’t afford. We lived in Toowoomba on what was really a hobby farm but, when they died, had to move to Brisbane to my mother’s sister.’
‘No other relations? Is she still alive?’
‘No other relations and she passed away a year ago.’
‘I see,’ he said slowly. ‘What about friends?’
‘Oh, I’ve got plenty of those—is this conversation leading somewhere, Mr Kinane?’ she asked with a glint of humour.
‘Yep. Where to hold the wedding.’
Chattie sobered.
‘Still shell-socked?’ he queried.
She glanced across at him. He wore his usual jeans and bush shirt and as he lazily waved away some bush flies she was literally assaulted by everything that was fine, strong but also determined about him. A hard man to cross, it popped into her mind, a hard man to say no to…
She plucked another stalk of grass and was dismayed to find that her hand was trembling beneath all the things Steve Kinane did to her. I’ll be a basket case shortly, it occurred to her, if I go on wanting him yet resenting him at times, like this.
‘I have given it some thought,’ she said cautiously. ‘For Bridget’s sake, something low key would be best.’
‘Why?’
The way he said it told her she was in for a fight, and she took a deep breath. ‘She’s the one who was hoping to be married. A big wedding couldn’t help but—well, make her think of what might have been for her.’
‘Your devotion to your sister is commendable, Chattie, but there has to be a limit. No, listen to me,’ he said quietly as she made a sudden move, and he put a hand over hers. ‘There’s going to be enormous curiosity in the district about this marriage as it is. For your sake, the best way to deal with it is not to be low-key or—hole-in-the-corner.’
‘But—’
‘I’m not,’ he overrode her, ‘suggesting anything flamboyant or over-the-top. But the ceremony and reception here at Helena should satisfy the district and, even more importantly—if we’re going to do this, it would give me the reassurance that it’s not all going to be hard labour for you.’
Their eyes met.
‘We could fly in as many of your friends as you’d like,’ he added. ‘You could be the bride—of your choice.’
Chattie fixed her gaze on Cathy Freeman for a long moment, and commanded herself to think straight. What good would it do for any of them if she was giving off ‘hard labour’ vibes?
‘OK,’ she said. ‘But I’ll have to go back to Brisbane to wind up my—our lives there, first.’
‘Your job?’ he queried.
‘I have two months’ untaken leave up my sleeve,’ she said slowly. ‘I worked on preparation programs right through the last Christmas holidays, so I can use that as notice.’ She gestured. ‘Not how I would like to do it, but the best I can come up with.’
‘Why don’t we combine that trip to Brisbane with some shopping?’ he suggested. ‘We could fly down.’
‘Bridget,’ Chattie began.
‘Bridget could come with us, if she’s game to fly again.’
Chattie subsided. Then she asked, ‘When—should we do it? Get married, I mean?’
‘How about—three weeks from today?’
‘Make it four and you’ve got a deal,’ she said with another glint of humour.
He raised a wry eyebrow. ‘Think we can last out that long?’
A tinge of pink entered her cheeks. ‘We’ll have to,’ she said, however. ‘I always wanted to design and make my own wedding dress, and, if we’re going to satisfy the district and come up with a suitable wedding for them, and me, I’ll need a month.’ She got up and added gently, ‘That’s my last offer, incidentally, but you won’t regret it.’
He rose to his feet. ‘Talk about being caught by the short and curlies—my apologies—’
But Chattie started to laugh, she just couldn’t help—as he looked extremely rueful.
He laughed with her. Then he helped her back on her horse, and they rode home with Chattie, mysteriously, feeling better than she had for a while.
CHAPTER TEN
MYSTERIOUSLY, also, Bridget had enjoyed her session with Harriet, Chattie discovered. Had Steve put the fear of God into his wayward cousin? Chattie wondered.
‘She treated me as if I was one of the family,’ Bridget said, wonderingly. ‘I really thought they’d all hate me. And she gave me some tips about being pregnant, what to expect and so on. Apparently, the middle three months are best. Harriet got over all her morning sickness by then and she glowed!’
‘That is good news!’ Chattie responded wryly. ‘Have you felt sick at all today?’
‘Not really. Just a bit queasy after breakfast.’
‘OK—I need to take a shower. Could you peel some potatoes for me?’
‘Sure! What’s for dinner?’
‘Pork chops.’
‘Would you like me to make that potato casserole with onions and tomatoes?’
‘You’re a honey, yes, please!’ And Chattie closed herself into her bedroom to shower and change for dinner—and to think about the forthcoming expedition to Brisbane.
In the event, it wasn’t Steve who took her to Brisbane, it was Joan Jackson.
While Chattie was showering she rang in to say that John had insisted she visit a specialist about her migraines, and he was flying her down the next morning and leaving her there for a couple of days, so was there anything they needed from the Big Smoke?
Steve took the call, hesitated then asked her if he could call her back. And he went on to first find Bridget, then Chattie.
As he knocked then opened her bedroom door her head and arms emerged through the neckline and sleeves of a slate-blue dress that floated around her before subsiding against her figure.
‘Sorry.’ He leant back against the door.
‘That’s OK. I’m decent now,’ she answered, although she looked faintly flustered. ‘What can I do you for?’
He told her about Joan Jackson’s call, and finished by saying, ‘The thing is, I wondered if you’d like to go down with Joan rather than me.’
Chattie’s lips parted. ‘Why?’
‘Because there’s rain on the way, according to the weather forecast I’ve just heard, and there’s a mob of cattle I’m particularly keen to muster before it gets here. The more hands I can muster, the better.’
Chattie smiled and was just about to comment on the joys of being a cattleman’s wife, but something stopped her. ‘Uh, well, but what about Bridget?’
‘Nothing would induce Bridget to set foot on a light plane at the moment.’
‘You’ve already checked with her?’ Chattie looked surprised.
‘Yep. I also rang Harriet and she’d be happy to have Bridget stay with her while you’re away.’
‘How on earth did you get Harriet to be so…so…compliant and helpful?’ she couldn’t help asking.
His lips twisted. ‘I told her what you told me—this has happened and we need to make the best of it rather than indulge in an orgy of recriminations. But, it so happens, Harriet is rather taken with your sister.’
‘Most people are,’ Chattie commented.
‘Point taken.’ Their gazes caught and held and he straightened and came towards her. ‘Are you happy to go with Joan, then? She’d probably be a lot more helpful than I would be with the wedding preparations. She’s married three daughters off.’
‘All right,’ Chattie said slowly.
‘You don’t sound convinced.’
‘The speed with which you organize things takes my breath away at times, that’s all.’ She half smiled.
He hesitated, then, ‘Sorry, but anyway, shouldn’t most of the preparations be a surprise for the groom?’
‘Traditionally, I guess so.’
‘Why don’t we opt for all tradition, then?’ He suggested. ‘After all, we’re being very traditional in one area.’
She looked up at him with a question in her eyes, but comprehension came to them as his dark gaze slipped down her figure.
She stirred and drew an unsteady breath. Her dress was loose but its silky material clung to her breasts and she felt very much on display to Steve Kinane with all the attendant sensations that brought. And she was drawn, in her mind, to a vision of them preparing to make love. Of them kissing and discarding their clothes with sensual serenity as they gloried in each other’s bodies.
It came to her that to be unclothed against the strong, hard planes of his body and to have his hands explore her nakedness might draw more from her than serenity—it might be a soul-liberating experience at the same time…
The Australians Convenient Bride Page 13