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by Barbara Hannay


  ‘Right.’

  As soon as Luke left Erin walked into Joey’s room and he rolled on to his back and smiled up at her, his smoky blue eyes shining from beneath sleep-heavy lids. ‘My dad’s the best, isn’t he, Mom?’

  Was she strong enough to face Joey’s rampant enthusiasm? ‘Your dad thinks you’re wonderful,’ she said and she kissed him and sat very still on the edge of his bed, stroking his short, soft hair, aware as she’d been so many times before of the astonishing strength of her love for him.

  Joey was the most important person, the most important anything in her life. Securing his happiness was her primary goal—for that she was risking this trip.

  But letting him go was so scary. Once he got to know his father, he might never love her as completely or as perfectly as he did now. And she had no idea how Luke was going to react. Her one terror was that he might assume he had a right to reclaim his son.

  But she couldn’t allow herself to dwell on that or she would lose the plot completely. She had to take this one step at a time. Most importantly, she had to try to stay calm.

  Forty-five minutes.

  Erin had been back in Luke’s life for less than an hour and he was a wreck.

  In his hotel room he tossed his keys with such force they skimmed across the glassy surface of the bedside table and fell to the floor. He didn’t bother to retrieve them.

  He felt like hell.

  His plan hadn’t worked.

  The plan had been to remain unmoved by the meeting with Erin and Joey. It should have been a cinch.

  For the past five years he’d kept his feelings for his wife—his ex-wife—and her son safely locked away, buried deep, impenetrable, behind a walled fortress. He’d known there was no hope of saving his marriage, so he’d sentenced himself to five years’ hard labour with no time off for good behaviour. He’d thrown himself into making Warrapinya the best cattle property in the north-west.

  By the time Erin’s letter had arrived, suggesting that he should meet his son, he had been sure he’d conquered his inner demons. He could handle a reunion without raising a sweat.

  But at the airport just now, all it had taken was the first glimpse of Erin’s bright autumn hair and her blue-as-heaven eyes and longing had ripped through him like a bullet.

  Damn.

  Luke marched to the window and stared grimly out without seeing the view. He had to get a grip. Surely he’d learned his lesson? How hard did a guy have to be slugged before he remembered that his marriage had been the biggest mistake of his life?

  His shoulders rose and fell as he released a sigh of frustration. Okay, maybe he was never going to stop desiring Erin Reilly, but he was never going to do anything about it either. Erin was a no-go zone. No way was he going to make the same mistakes as last time.

  As for the boy…

  Luke was less certain about Joey. He had no idea what Erin had told their son about his father, about their marriage, but he’d been expecting the kid to see him as the bad guy. Joey’s eagerness and excitement had knocked Luke for six. He didn’t deserve his son’s adoration, but it was there, shining in the boy’s eyes.

  Another very good reason to pull himself together.

  Luke turned and caught his reflection in the mirror. He looked a shocker—face like dropped meat pie.

  He forced a half-hearted smile. ‘Cheer up, mate. Your ex might find you as appealing as a black snake in a sleeping bag, but your son thinks you’re the duck’s pyjamas.’

  Erin should have been well prepared and calm when Luke strode back through her doorway an hour later, but she wasn’t any kind of calm, and she had no one but herself to blame.

  Too late, she’d realised that she’d spent far too long in the bath, and then she’d had to rush the business of blow-drying her hair and selecting something to wear.

  When she heard Luke’s knock, precisely on time, calmness wasn’t even in the ballpark. Her short dark red hair was still damp and spiky and she’d had no time for make-up. Damn. She hadn’t wanted to look dolled up, as if she was trying to impress the man, but she’d wanted, at the very least, to use some concealer to hide the traveller’s puffy shadows under her eyes.

  ‘Just a minute,’ she called, angry with herself for not being ready and angry with Luke for being exactly on time. She snatched up her perfume. And then smacked it down again. It was Lost, the deeply sweet and sensual scent she always wore. In the days of their courtship and marriage Luke had been crazy about it. Perhaps it wasn’t wise to wear it tonight.

  There was another sharp tattoo on her door. It sounded impatient. Bossy.

  Annoyed, Erin grabbed the bottle again and squirted the perfume at her neck, at her wrists and into the V of her sweater. And then, without bothering to hunt for her shoes, she hurried to answer the door.

  ‘I thought you must have fallen asleep,’ Luke said dryly.

  ‘Is that why you were banging so loudly?’

  ‘I wasn’t banging.’ A sudden flash of irritation sparked in his cool eyes.

  Oh, God. No doubt Luke was on edge too. And they were fighting. Already.

  Erin back-pedalled. ‘I almost nodded off in the bath, but I’d say I’m good for another hour, tops.’

  ‘I don’t suppose our business will take very long.’

  ‘No, I guess not.’ She waved a hand in the direction of the armchairs arranged around an elegant polished timber coffee table. ‘Would you like coffee?’

  ‘Not unless you’d like some.’

  ‘I’m fine.’

  They sat. Erin crossed her legs, but her bare feet and painted toenails seemed too—naked—and she wished she’d put shoes on. She uncrossed her legs again and tried, unsuccessfully, to tuck her feet out of sight. Luke settled comfortably with the ankle of one long leg balanced easily on the knee of the other.

  It was daunting to be alone with him again after five long years. Everything about him was so familiar, and yet strange. There were changes too. He’d lost a little weight and gained a few lines. Resistance and stealthy watchfulness had replaced his easy good humour and ready smile.

  His cool gaze slid over her, taking in her kitten-soft white cashmere sweater and sleek black Capri trousers—carelessly comfortable, elegant garments that she couldn’t have afforded when they’d met seven years ago.

  ‘No jewellery this evening,’ he commented.

  Surprised that he’d noticed, she lifted ringless hands to touch her bare throat and to finger her empty ear lobes. ‘Too close to bedtime to bother.’ Besides, there’s no one I need to impress.

  Watching her carefully, he hitched a casual arm over the back of his chair. ‘So, how are things, Erin? How’s your business?’

  ‘Things are fine. My business is doing really well.’

  ‘You’re still in partnership with your sister?’

  ‘Yes. And we’ve expanded. Angie and I still do all the designs, but we’ve taken on more staff to make most of our jewellery for us.’

  It felt good to tell Luke that, to let him see that although she’d made a mess of her personal life, she was proud of her business success. ‘Actually, we’ve just signed a contract with Candia Hart. Have you heard of her? She’s one of the new big stars in Australian fashion design. She loves our stuff, and I’m meeting her here in Sydney to plan accessories for her show in New York next spring.’

  Luke looked appropriately impressed. ‘You’ll be opening a shop on Fifth Avenue in no time.’

  ‘You never know. We just might.’

  ‘I had no idea there was such a high demand for coloured pencils threaded on string.’

  Schmuck. Erin narrowed her eyes and waited for him to redeem himself with even the hint of a smile. In the past Luke’s dry sense of humour had been one of his charms, but this evening there was no sign of it.

  ‘We’ve expanded our repertoire,’ she said tightly and then she lifted one hand in a sweeping flourish that took in the suite of rooms. ‘Looks like your cattle business is doing well too. You�
�re staying in five-star hotels these days, and buying twin-engine aeroplanes.’

  He nodded, but offered no further comment. Instead he said, ‘About these ground rules of yours.’

  ‘Right.’ Erin let out her breath with a nervous huff. ‘I don’t suppose they’re rules exactly. Mostly, I wanted to fill you in a little. It’s important we’re both on the same page with the way we handle Joey.’

  She paused then, hoping Luke might make a favourable comment about their son, about what a fine little guy he was, but he simply nodded grimly. His cool stare was a distinct challenge, but she was determined not to let him upset her.

  ‘Fire away,’ he said.

  ‘Okay.’ She pressed her lips together, and then released her breath again slowly. ‘You’ll get to know Joey better tomorrow, but I’m sure you’ve already noticed that he asks lots of questions.’

  He nodded without smiling.

  ‘You’ll need to be prepared for that. Once you take him to Warrapinya he’s bound to bombard you with questions—especially about—about us.’

  ‘What about us?’

  ‘About why we split up.’ Lowering her gaze, she traced the pattern of tapestry leaves on the upholstered arm of her chair. ‘I’m afraid he asks that question rather a lot—the same question over and over.’

  ‘Why would he need to do that?’ Luke asked sharply. ‘Haven’t you been able to give him a satisfactory answer?’

  ‘I—I believe I have. I’ve certainly done my best.’

  ‘But he keeps on asking—wanting to know why we spilt up?’

  ‘Yes. He does it partly to learn, I guess, to understand. But I think he’s also checking that the answer stays the same.’ She hurried on nervously. ‘He can ask the most difficult questions at the most inconvenient moments. It always seems to happen to me when I’m standing in the supermarket line, or when I’m dropping him off at school.’ And then, because Luke was looking at her with such clear dislike, she added, ‘Or just as I’m about to go out and my date’s standing on the doorstep.’

  Luke’s jaw stiffened and Erin felt a flicker of triumph, but then, as a dark stain tinged his neck, she almost wished she could take back that last cheap shot. She wanted her role in this meeting to be very mature, very civilised.

  Shifting his weight slightly, Luke sat a little straighter and crossed his arms over his chest. ‘Okay, so what is the answer, Erin?’ He asked this very quietly, but the question seemed to reverberate around the room. ‘What do you tell the boy about why we split up?’

  An uncomfortable pulse beat at the base of her throat. ‘I—I tell him the truth—that we weren’t able to live together.’

  ‘I see.’ He stared at her. ‘Is that all you’ve told him?’

  ‘Pretty much. I’ve been careful never to criticise you, Luke.’

  ‘Am I supposed to be grateful?’

  Her teeth ground together and she took a deep breath, trying for an impossible calm. ‘When Joey asks why we can’t be a family, I remind him about what his teacher told the class—about all the different kinds of families there are.’

  Luke frowned. ‘For example?’

  Was he being deliberately obtuse?

  ‘Come on, Luke, you know as well as I do how many single and blended families there are these days. In America there are more children in those kinds of families than there are in families with both biological parents.’

  ‘I’m sure that must be immensely reassuring for Joey.’

  Sighing loudly, Erin thumped the arm of her chair. ‘It’s a fact of life.’

  He sat very still, watching her.

  ‘The important thing to remember is that Joey needs reassurance from both of us that we love him, that we’re going to keep on loving him even though we’re separated—even though—’

  ‘Even though his parents don’t love each other,’ Luke said, finishing the sentence in a voice as dry as moon dust.

  Erin felt as if she couldn’t breathe. ‘Yes,’ she managed at last.

  There was another terrible silence while they both stared at the floor.

  ‘I suppose Joey must worry that you’ll leave him too.’

  Her head shot up. ‘No. He knows that’s impossible.’

  ‘Does he?’ Luke’s glance was sharp and hard. ‘We were a family once. Joey’s old enough to realise that you must have loved me once, but that didn’t stop you from leaving.’

  She leapt to her feet, needing to defend herself, to swipe that stony accusation from Luke’s eyes. But she was trapped by his ruthless gaze—like an escaping prisoner caught in a searchlight’s beam, her guilt exposed. ‘That’s unfair and you know it.’

  ‘It’s plain logic, Erin. You said Joey’s a smart kid. Smart kids worry. I’m just trying to see how the boy might view this.’

  ‘Okay, I’ll tell you how he views this. He loves me. I—I’ve been a good mom to him. I’ve been better than that. I’ve been great.’

  ‘I don’t think that’s in question.’

  ‘And he idolises you. I might be his mother, but you’re his hero, Luke. He’s got you on such a high pedestal you’ll need a parachute to get down.’

  Taken aback, Luke scratched the back of his neck. ‘How did that happen?’

  Erin shrugged. She was too tired and emotional to try to analyse the complexities of the absent father scenario now. ‘Look,’ she said. ‘I’ve never said a word against you to Joey, and I need you to promise that you won’t tell him things that will turn him against me.’

  ‘Of course. I promise you have my word on that.’

  She blinked hard as her eyes filled with sudden tears. ‘Joey knows he’ll be going back to New York with me at the end of this holiday.’

  Luke made no comment.

  ‘And—’ She gulped; her throat had constricted over a knot of pain. ‘I’ve made it very clear to him that there’s no chance of us becoming a family again.’

  ‘I see.’ Luke stood abruptly and looked down at her from his too impressive height.

  If only she’d put shoes on. Her bare feet were sinking into the deep pile of the carpet and, beside Luke, she felt too short. ‘There’s one last thing that’s very important,’ she said.

  The line of his mouth tightened. ‘What’s that?’

  ‘I want you to promise that you’ll take really good care of Joey.’

  Unexpected fury darkened his face. ‘Of course I’ll take bloody good care of him. How can you even ask that?’

  ‘Who’s going to look after Joey while you’re off mending fences or shifting cattle?’

  ‘I’ll be with him all the time.’

  ‘But—’

  ‘My cousin is managing Warrapinya these days.’

  ‘Really? I didn’t even know you had a cousin.’

  ‘Keith and his wife used to live on a station way out the back of Lake Nash, but these days Keith looks after the running of our place, so I’ll be free to spend time with Joey.’

  Erin stared at him, shocked. Luke’s prolonged absences while he attended to the thousand and one jobs needed to run Warrapinya had been a major cause of their break-up.

  When she’d lived on Warrapinya it hadn’t mattered how many employees Luke had—jackaroos, ringers or cooks—Luke had held himself responsible. He was the boss and the boss always went mustering, was always there for the tough work, the dirty work like fencing, dam building, branding, or breaking in horses. He’d maintained that he should take on the dangerous tasks rather than a worker.

  If there was a wild scrub bull to be caught, it was the boss who led the way. Once a windmill’s blades had gone berserk in a gale and the entire top threatened to tear off. Nails, the station handyman, had been going to climb up and disconnect the sails, but Luke had insisted on attending to it.

  He’d claimed that running Warrapinya was more than a hands-on job. It was a hearts-on job.

  Now it was beyond disconcerting to hear that in five short years Luke had delegated someone else to run Warrapinya for him. Joey would h
ave his father’s undivided attention. She should have been pleased, but instead she was fighting anger and hurt. ‘I—I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to Joey,’ she said quickly.

  ‘What’s going to happen? What the hell are you talking about?’

  ‘The Outback’s so dangerous.’

  With a groan, Luke flung back his head and stared at the ceiling. When he looked at her again, his eyes were blistering. ‘You haven’t filled Joey’s head with that kind of bull, have you?’

  ‘No.’

  ‘I suppose you’ve told him that’s why you left—because you were terrified of the Outback?’

  ‘No!’

  Jaw jutting belligerently, he stared at the toe of his riding boot and then flicked his gaze back to her. ‘But that was it, wasn’t it, Erin? It wasn’t so much that we couldn’t live together as that you couldn’t live in the bush.’

  There was no point in having this conversation. It was ancient history; their divorce was a fait accompli.

  When Erin refused to answer, Luke took an intimidating step towards her.

  With her shoulders braced, she said, ‘You know it wasn’t just that.’

  ‘Okay…just to refresh my memory…what exactly was our problem?’

  ‘For heaven’s sake, it’s not worth dragging that up now.’

  ‘Come on, Erin, you can do better than that.’

  ‘How can you ask now? It’s too late.’ Through clenched teeth, she added, ‘It’s five years too late.’

  ‘I couldn’t ask you five years ago. You ran away.’

  ‘You didn’t try to contact me after I left, Luke. You could have asked questions then.’ Shaking with a deluge of anger and despair, she felt tears stand in her eyes. ‘When I left Warrapinya, you yelled after me to go to hell. ‘Good riddance’, you yelled. And then, you never once tried to telephone me. There wasn’t a word, Luke. You knew Joey was sick, but you never rang to find out how he was. Not once. You didn’t want to know.’

  Until she’d written to Luke to request a meeting with Joey he’d been silent. For five years he’d worn his stubborn pride like a badge of courage. The only contact had been via his lawyer and his accountant who supervised the regular deposits into her bank account for Joey’s maintenance.

 

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