Australian Odyssey

by Pauline Saull

  The air was crisp and clear. The sky, lit by the pale orange glow of dawn looked vast, endless, a small crescent of the moon still visible. All around, birds sang, shrieked, and cackled for the joy of a new day.

  How I love this country, Ella thought.

  Out of town the carriage made good progress and the driver swung around onto the wide main track. She looked at the ruts and holes Dorothy had spoken of, filled with stones in an attempt to level it, the reason she lost so much juice. About to take the left turn down to Woomba, the driver pulled over as a rider approached. A man on horseback cantered toward them, the sun behind him, but full in Ella’s face.

  Shading her eyes as the horse slowed down to pass, Ella looked up. The man’s craggy chiseled face was almost hidden beneath the wide brimmed hat, which he slowly tipped back. Deep, intense blue eyes locked on hers and Ella felt a jolt course through her, unlike anything she’d ever experienced before. Deep inside her, something seemed to melt and run.

  Unnerved, she shivered, averted her face, and the man quickly rode on.

  “Who-who was that?” She asked the driver, though there was really no need. She knew.

  “Lucas Helm. He has the reputation of being a hard nut.” The man chuckled. “He’s your neighbor. Glad he’s not mine.”

  Lucas Helm, her neighbor.

  Ella had not expected him to look like that! Somehow, she’d imagined a coarse, ugly ruffian. A man of excesses who would be pockmarked and fat, yet he was as far away from that image as was possible. And he’d caused a frisson of something approaching fear in her. Unnerving. She resolved to be on her guard should she meet up with him in the future.

  They drove up to the house where the last of Dorothy’s chattels were being loaded.

  She came out to meet them. “What a beautiful day to move into Woomba, Ella. Oh, my dear.” She kissed her warmly. “I do hope you’ll be happy here. It truly is a magical place which I shall be sad to leave.”

  “I know I will be happy. And you must promise to visit me. I shall be making changes which I’m sure will interest you. I have, by the way,” she added, “just had sight of my neighbor, Mr. Helm.”

  Dorothy raised her eyebrows. “Your beautiful face is flushed, dear. Has he affected you already?”

  “Not at all, though he is an unusually attractive man.”

  “Mm. I never thought to mention it, I suppose I have become used to him! And you, Ella are of course very difficult for any man to ignore! Seeing you through Lucas’ eyes…well, with his well-known ability to woo and win any woman he sets his sights on, I wonder how you will cope with him, for he’ll definitely be more than a little interested in you.”

  Ella laughed nervously. “Men are of no interest to me whatsoever. Especially his type, handsome and arrogant who rely on their looks and do not have a very good opinion of females. No, no interest at all.”

  Dorothy laughed and clapped her hands. Her lined face creased with delight. “Oh, Ella, you have described him exactly! But I have to add, he may not as you said, consider women worthy, they do however hang around him like bees near a honey pot without its lid. How I wish I could be around to watch you put him in his rightful place, which I can see you will surely do.”

  Ella smiled lightly. After her encounter with him, she wasn’t sure at all.

  If a man could make her feel like that with just a look, heaven help her. She’d seen his hands, one resting on his muscled thigh, tanned, slim, with straight clean nails—and daren’t imagine how they would feel on her bare skin—couldn’t even begin to imagine where that thought had come from, for heaven’s sake!

  “Well, it’s time I was off, dear Ella,” Dorothy said. “When you’ve settled in and next come into town, call in and see me. There’s my address.”

  Chapter Five

  Once he’d passed the carriage, Lucas turned, watching it roll into Woomba’s track. He pulled the horse to a steady walk. He needed to think.

  Who the hell was she?

  He had never seen such beauty. Golden eyes, black hair, creamy skin and a full sensual mouth, so perfectly shaped. He could imagine the feeling as those lips parted against his own, and he shifted uncomfortably in the saddle. He was behaving like a darn schoolboy!

  For Pete’s sake, what is wrong with me?

  Still, it was difficult to remove the vision of her from his mind. And why was she driving into Mrs. Kettler’s with luggage? Unlikely to be a relative. With that creamy skin, someone from overseas? But who?

  Lucas shrugged, told himself it wasn’t any business of his. All the same, he’d noted the carriage came from the Railway Hotel, so there would be nothing lost by making a few enquiries.

  He nudged the horse into a gallop. Suddenly it seemed imperative he found out.

  Friday was always the busiest day of the week in town, due to the many cargo ships which docked early in the morning, and it seemed to Lucas to be even more so today. He watched with interest as a massive cart drawn by six horses lumbered up the main street, laden with furniture of a type from a past Lucas wanted to forget.

  Rich man’s furnishings!

  Mahogany chests, spindly-legged tables, mirrors, fancy upholstered chairs. Who in their right mind would want to bring such stuff to a country known for its termites? The thought made him smile. He could imagine them chewing their way through the hard dark wood with ease. Reining in to let the cart pass, he saw the name, Thomas Bickerstaff, on a trunk.

  So there was a new man in town, and clearly from the old country.

  Lucas’ jaw tightened. If he never saw anyone from that place again it would be too soon. Riding into the hotel yard, he dismounted, tied the horse, and went in search of Kenneth.

  The delicious smell of frying bacon hit him as he peered into the already full dining room. Kenneth spotted him immediately and came to shake his hand.

  “Good to see you, Lucas. Good trip. Mary said you were away buying beasts.”

  “Aye. It was worth the journey. Gee, I’m hungry. I can never resist the aroma in here. Make it a big plate, Ken.”

  “Mary?” Kenneth called. “Get Lucas a big breakfast and coffee, please.”

  Mary appeared immediately, looking up provocatively, pushing her blonde curly hair back. “Of course, Lucas can have whatever he wants.” She walked away with an elaborate wiggle of her hips.

  Kenneth turned to Lucas with a wide grin. “That girl couldn’t make her feelings for you any clearer if she tried! Never considered taking her on?”

  Lucas shook his head. “No way, Ken. Women are all right in their place…the kitchen and bedroom, but I’ll never have one in my life. I don’t trust ’em. Ken, I just saw your carriage on the way to Woomba…”

  “Aye. That’s right. It’s your new neighbor, Widow Bickerstaff. She stayed here awhile until she bought the place. I have to say…” Kenneth said as he looked over his shoulder for his wife’s presence, “she’s a beauty, Lucas, a real stunner. I don’t get carried away by pretty women, but this one…Are you all right, mate? You’ve gone a shocking color.”

  “Did you say, neighbor? Bickerstaff? She’s bought Woomba?”

  “I did. And I tell you, folk were damn surprised when they heard Ma had sold to her. Seems it was over and done with before anyone knew about it. I know you’ve had your eye on the place, Lucas, but I reckon Ma’s just been waiting for such an opportunity. It was a cash sale by all accounts. And the woman’s going to run the juice business on her own! Mighty strange if you ask me, apparently her husband only died a few days before she landed, but you’d never have known it from the way she dressed when she stayed here. My Clara thought it was disgraceful, though I enjoyed it!”

  “Ken, if you’ll excuse me.” Lucas took coins out, laid them on the table. “I won’t be eating after all, I’ve just remembered something.”

  “Sure. No worries. Take care now.”

  “Lucas!” Mary ran out onto the porch after him. “You forgot your hat.” She held it out and as he reached for it, put it
behind her back, a mischievous glint in her eye.

  “Come on now, Mary. I’m in a hurry.”

  “I only want to ask you to the dance here tomorrow night?”

  “I’m a farmer, Mary. I don’t dance.”

  “Oh, you old stick in the mud.” Mary pouted prettily. “Please say you’ll come. I love to dance but Mother won’t let me go alone. It starts at seven.”

  Lucas studied the cute face gazing at him. A strange woman had him stirred up like a crazy thing and he needed to take his mind off her. He smiled. “Okay, Mary, you win. I’ll see you tomorrow at seven.”

  “I’ll be wearing my prettiest dress, Lucas Helm,” Mary called after him.

  But Lucas hadn’t heard. His head had started to pound. He strode off to the lumber yard, and after ordering the fencing he needed, made straight for the bank where he asked to see Tom Walton.

  “Lucas.” Tom came from his office. “Come through. I don’t need to ask why you’re here. I can tell from the look on your face you’ve heard the news. I’m sorry, but it all happened so quickly. The young widow had the cash and Mrs. Kettler wanted her to have the place. I said I’d been instructed to offer more than was being paid on behalf of a client, but Mrs. Kettler refused outright. Obviously she knew it was you.” He shrugged. “What can I say?”

  Lucas shook his head. “I can’t believe it. I feel as though I’ve been kicked in the guts by a mule.” He sighed. “I had the strangest feeling something wasn’t right when I arrived home, but had no idea…perhaps, I wonder, do you think this Mrs. Bickerstaff will be easier to deal with than Ma? I suppose I could offer a really good price for the one acre with the lake on it, a good bid never goes amiss, does it?”

  Tom pursed his lips and shook his head. “I don’t think she’ll sell any part of it. From what she said it’s clear she intends increasing the juice business. Citrus require a lot of water as you know.”

  Lucas frowned. “I do, though not as much as thirsty cattle need it. Hell, Tom, I can’t get this through my head. What’s that saying about the best laid plans?”

  “You said it!”

  “Well, mine sure as hell have gone adrift. Though there’s that old saying…”

  Tom looked at him.

  “There’s more than one way to skin a cat. I won’t give up, Tom. One woman beat me, another won’t.”

  »»•««

  On the way back to his farm, Lucas took the left hand turn to Woomba Orchard without thinking about it. A mix of anger and resentment, along with a cold hard slug of excitement, rushed through him as he approached the house.

  He felt certain he could talk this young widow round, get his hands on Woomba, one way or another. The front door and all the windows were wide open, so he clearly heard the melodic singing coming from deep within. Pulling in his horse he dismounted, tied the rein loosely over the veranda rail, and took his hat off. After smoothing back his hair, he stepped onto the porch and knocked loudly on the open door. The singing stopped at once. Hurried footsteps sounded on wooden boards and she came out into the sunlight.

  “Oh!” Ella put a hand to her throat. She glanced over his shoulder. “I’m sorry, but I was expecting my furniture.”

  “I believe I saw the cart in town. It’s on its way. Lucas Helm, your neighbor, we met briefly this morning, though I suppose met is the wrong word. I passed you on the lane.” He held his hand out.

  “Ah, yes. Ella. Ella Bickerstaff. I’m pleased to meet you, Mr. Helm.”

  “And I to meet you, Ella. Please, may I suggest that as we are to be close neighbors, you call me Lucas?” He saw her swallow, the slight flush in her cheeks, and as her hand slid into his, he had an overwhelming longing to hold onto it. So small and cool—abruptly, she pulled it away.

  “Um…Lucas. I should offer you a drink, but I have nothing.”

  “What! No juice?” He smiled.

  “There’s plenty of that in the barn, I simply do not have anything to pour it in.” She glanced again over his shoulder. “As I mentioned, my goods have not arrived yet.”

  Lucas nodded and stroked his chin, pondering the best approach for his next question. He was finding it hard to tear his gaze away from the exquisite creature. Her eyes, he thought, were stunning. They were aimed at him now, waiting, as she dragged the loose tendrils of hair off her neck to secure it in the clip on top of her head, and his gaze was drawn to the slender arch of that neck as she tipped her head to one side. He saw that she’d noticed his attention. Her lips tightened slightly.

  Lucas gave himself a mental shake. What did her looks matter? That wasn’t the reason for his interest in her.

  “You appear…uncertain,” Ella said.

  “I—um, yeah. Sorry, but I was just thinking. I saw your cart in town and judging by the load on it, bet it will take most of the day for the men to offload everything. I expect you’ll be tired and hungry by the time they’ve finished. So may I make a suggestion?”

  “A suggestion?”

  Her hand rested lightly on the swell of her bosom. Tiny beads of perspiration had gathered in the sweet valley between them. Her finger rubbed across the skin and Lucas groaned inwardly.

  ∙•∙

  Ella swallowed, touched the dampness on her skin, waiting for him to speak, and felt it again as those deep blue eyes looked into hers, the jolt piercing deeply through her body, that melting, a longing for something she’d never known before. Her pulse quickened. He was the most incredibly handsome man she had ever met. He had knowing eyes, experienced eyes, she thought, and such attractive long wavy blond hair resting on his shirt collar. He stood a good four inches taller than her, and Ella found her own gaze drawn to the opening at the neck of his blue check shirt and the smattering of fair hair on his smooth tanned skin.

  “Yeah, a neighborly one,” Lucas said. “You’ll have had a busy day unpacking, so why not come over and eat at my place? You can cut through the woodland there,” he said, pointing with his hat, “the fence is low in places, easy to step over, and I’ll make supper. I cook a real mean steak over the fire.”

  “Well, I…I may be very tired by then.” Ella folded her arms.

  “Shucks!” Lucas laughed, his craggy face creased in a wide smile. “All the more reason to let someone else do the cooking. Shall we say six o’clock?”

  Lordy!

  Ella licked her dry lips. Women love him, Dorothy had said, flocked around him. She stood straighter, lifted her chin, and nodded. “Thank you,” she said.

  “Good.” He grinned, showing white straight teeth. “I’ll look forward to it.”

  With a nonchalant backward wave he strolled to his horse, and her gaze slid to his slim hips in the tight leather trousers. Ella hurried inside, into the parlor where she watched from behind the net curtain as he jumped with ease onto the large steed and rode off her property.

  Am I mad, she asked herself?

  Why hadn’t she politely refused his invitation? She stomped through to the kitchen, annoyed with herself. He’d think she was like the rest, flitting and buzzing around him for attention.

  “I think not!” She picked up the broom Dorothy had left and furiously brushed the already clean wooden floor.

  But the thought lingered. In the two short encounters she’d had with him, he had managed to leave her feeling out of control, and Ella was not comfortable with that.

  Not one little bit. Nor did she understand it. Were women supposed to feel that way when a man looked at them?

  Certainly nothing like it had ever happened with Thomas.

  She sensed danger in that she could become unwillingly drawn in, involved, with a man who had the ability to easily make a woman feel powerless, helpless. Ella walked out onto the back porch and sat on the step. The short encounter had left her feeling restless and drained.

  She gazed across to the distant hills, her thoughts swinging back to what Dorothy had said about his lineage. Having now conversed with Lucas, this puzzled her, for she’d definitely heard a faint hint—po
ssibly only discernible to another Briton—of an English accent.

  What was that about, she wondered?

  The rumble of cartwheels brought her to her feet.

  Thankfully the arrival of the furniture took her mind off him. It took hours for the men to offload everything.

  “Heavens!” She said to one. “I hadn’t realized there was so much!”

  Hands on hips, she looked at the large, heavy, dark cabinets and tables, so out of place in her bright cottage. The man removed his cap, scratched his head.

  “Aye. A lot,” he said.

  Ella nodded. “I think the rest of it will have to go in the barn over there. I’ll just have my bed and dressing table please.” She’d walked to the front door and found her gaze travelling along the fence line dividing the properties. Where had he said it was low?

  She stepped back as the men struggled through with her large bed. When it was in place, she unpacked her linens and pillows and began singing softly. The bedlinens were newly bought just after the wedding, but never before used. Prettily embroidered, crisp and white, she relished the thought of climbing between those sheets later, alone.

  But her thoughts swung to Lucas. She ran a hand over the pillow.

  How would it feel, she wondered, to be held by strong arms such as his? That muscled chest, hard and smooth—she could imagine her hands running over it.

  Ella wafted her face. Ridiculous notions!

  “Stop it Ella!”

  In the neat kitchen she stored the kitchenware in clean cupboards, placed her china in the glass-fronted dresser, and found a cloth for the table where she’d decided she would take her meals. The large window with views out over the orchard toward the lake seemed to her to be the most wonderful place to eat. How different from the house in London, which though large, still looked out on the brick wall of the house next door.