Argentinian in the Outback & Cattle Rancher, Secret Son: Argentinian in the OutbackCattle Rancher, Secret Son

by Margaret Way

  He had followed the Argentine revolutionary Che Guevara’s journey on his own motorcycle, half believing in the Curse of Che. It was well documented that the Bolivian politicians and generals who had shared responsibility for his death had later met with violent accidental deaths themselves. He had visited all the wonders North and South America could offer. He had seen the great awe-inspiring desert monuments of Central Australia.

  But he had never before made passionate love to a woman while lying on the velvety sand of an ancient cavern with fantastic pre-historic formations gazing down at them. It was an experience that had great meaning for him, because he knew the passion he felt for Ava was true.

  Luke Selwyn’s voice jolted him out of his lingering euphoria. “Almost there,” he announced, with a sidelong grin. “He looks a cantankerous old bugger, Malyah Man. I know Ava was always frightened of him. But then Ava has phobias.” He paused for a moment, gnawing his lip. “I love her, you know.”

  “Love her or want to hold on to her?” Varo asked bluntly, glancing across at Ava’s husband.

  “Of course I want to hold on to her,” Luke freely admitted, almost banging his fist on the wheel. “What man wouldn’t? She’s so beautiful.”

  “She is. But she has many other qualities to be greatly admired,” Varo clipped off.

  “Of course, of course,” Luke agreed at once. “She’s the loveliest person in many ways. But it broke my heart that she didn’t want children. I know what was at the bottom of it, of course,” he said with deep regret. “For all the fact she was a Langdon, she had a miserable childhood. She was terrified of her grandfather. He was an immensely powerful, tyrannical man.”

  Varo felt his heart flip over in his chest. Ava didn’t want children? Could Selwyn, who appeared genuinely broken-hearted, possibly lie about something like that?

  He suddenly remembered how his eldest sister, Sophia, had sworn she would never go through the experience of childbirth again after Alvaro, his nephew, had been born after a prolonged and difficult labour. Sophia, however, had changed her mind. She had brought adorable little Isabella into the world, with none of the trauma associated with Alvaro’s birth. Maybe his beautiful Ava felt threatened by the pain of childbirth? Men couldn’t totally understand. He had friends who had been overwhelmed by their wives’ first pregnancy. Over-protective, over-anxious—living the pregnancy. He felt he might be like that too. One’s wife would be the most important woman in the world.

  “Are you okay?” Luke was asking with concern. “You’ve gone quiet on me.”

  “Have I? I was thinking about my sister, actually,” he said, choosing his words. “You were telling me Ava doesn’t want children?”

  Luke took a deep breath before continuing—a man trying to calm himself. “I was. It blew me away. There was never a hint of it before we were married. I naturally assumed Ava would want children as much as I do. My parents were longing for a grandchild. But Ava’s attitude firmed with every passing day. I wanted her to have counselling about it, but she flatly refused. Please don’t think I didn’t try to calm her, Varo. I believe she really fears childbirth. Some women do. It got to the point where I was getting a bit paranoid myself. And then we discovered she was pregnant. My God!” he said quietly. “I was the enemy from that moment. Something must have gone wrong with her contraception method. It happens. I have to confess when she told me I couldn’t help but be thrilled. The longed-for child! I promised Ava I would do anything—everything—to support her, that we would get her safely through pregnancy together—” He broke off, overcome by emotion.

  The towering figure of Malyah Man loomed ahead, but Varo was seeing it through a blinding haze. He had to grit his teeth. Even his breathing was constricted. Out of the clear blue he was abruptly unsure of anything. He might just as well have stepped off a cliff. Ava was in his bloodstream. He had come to think of her as part of his destiny. But what did he really know of her? Indeed, what did she know of him? The two of them had been swept away by the force of their feelings. It was a classic case of the heart ruling the head, the fatal coup de foudre. Still, a big part of him was highly suspicious of Selwyn, the self-styled wronged husband.

  “Let’s park the Jeep first,” Selwyn suggested, like a man trying to buy time. “I can’t go on for the moment. I get too damned upset. Ava was the centre of my world. A child would have made us complete. I was absolutely certain Ava would come around. I really felt that her peculiar fears would pass. A kind of phobia, I suppose. Not all women long to have a child. Many elect to go childless these days. Some don’t even want a man as soon as they become financially independent. Sorry if I’m drawing you into this, Varo,” he said, with an apologetic half-smile. “But it’s good to be able to talk to someone. You know—like strangers on a train. I can’t talk to my parents. I wouldn’t dream of talking to our friends—”

  “But surely you have Karen Devereaux’s ear?” Varo broke in, feeling the heat of anger but fighting it down. He wanted to grab hold of Sewlyn, drag him out of the vehicle, beat the truth out of him. Yet his question was asked suavely, with a touch of sarcasm.

  Selwyn responded at once, as though anxious to clear that point up. “As though I’d talk to Karen about Ava!” he exclaimed, lifting one hand off the wheel and throwing it up for emphasis. “Poor old Karen has been competing with my wife all her life. She is horrendously jealous of Ava. She has every reason to be. No, I couldn’t confide in Karen,” he said ruefully, shaking his head, “although she likes to keep in touch. She rings me from time to time. Karen doesn’t trust many people, but she trusts me.”

  Varo kept silent. His nerves were drawing tighter every second. He could see Selwyn wanted to tell him more. He wasn’t at all sure how he would react. He would never have thought for a moment Ava might not want children. He had assumed she was a woman who loved children as he did. Now he was no longer sure of anything. He would bide his time, hear Selwyn out.

  Like the vast desert monuments Uluru and Kata Tjuta, rising as they did out of the featureless plains, so too did Malyah Man. The striking sandstone pillar was set in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by grassy flats that were thickly sewn with some pink flowering succulent he later learned was parakeelya—an aboriginal word. The stock liked to feed on it.

  “Fantastic, isn’t it?” Selwyn commented, as they stepped out of the Jeep. “Ava never would come here alone.”

  “So you said.” Varo walked to the foot of the ancient formation—probably the only remaining relic of some prehistoric plateau. He tried to keep his mind focused on the natural formation. It reminded him strongly of tribal sculpture. African or Toltec-Mayan. There was a great dignity to the extraordinary “human” head. Certainly it wasn’t a welcoming figure. It was a guardian figure. He was sure of it.

  Selwyn was somewhere behind him, obviously keeping his distance.

  Varo turned around. “It seems you suffer your own apprehension?” he said with a vague taunt.

  “Well, he is a scary-looking guy.” Selwyn tried a laugh that didn’t quite come off. But to prove himself he moved over to where Varo was standing. “I hope I haven’t upset you?” he asked, studying the Argentine’s handsome profile. It was set in stern lines.

  “In what way?” Varo glanced sideways, stared the other man down.

  “A man would have to be blind not to notice you’re attracted to my wife,” Luke offered, holding up his hands in peace.

  “I would think any man that laid eyes on her would be attracted,” Varo returned. He rested a reverent hand against the sandstone folds of Malyah Man’s “cloak”.

  Luke sighed. “I just wanted you to get things right,” he said. “There’s so much I could tell you.”

  “Go right ahead,” Varo invited, covering the deep stabs of anger.

  Luke lowered his voice, as though talking to himself. “I have to get this off
my chest, Varo. It’s been killing me. You have no idea how lost and wretched I feel. I’m a man who believes in marriage. I believed in my marriage. I love Ava with everything I am. Body, heart and soul.”

  “Apparently you weren’t able to convey your deep feelings to her?” Varo said, shooting his companion a derisive look.

  “You don’t understand.” Luke rubbed fiercely at the nape of his neck. Something had stung him, dammit! “The pregnancy ended in catastrophe.” His voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “Ava—my beautiful Ava, who looks like an angel—aborted our child.”

  This time Varo couldn’t control himself. He lashed out on instinct, grabbing hold of Selwyn by his smarting neck. “You’re lying,” he rasped.

  He looked so daunting Luke Selwyn moaned aloud. “Please…” Luke struggled to get free, but the Argentine held him fast. He was inches taller, fitter, stronger, and his black eyes were glittering with rage. “You don’t want to believe it. I understand. I have to tell you. I refused to believe it too. Only it’s too true. Ava aborted our child. She confided in Karen. At least Karen was always there for her. Her family don’t know. I know it sounds appalling. It is appalling. I realise now I shouldn’t have told you. This is something I should have kept to myself. Forgive me, but I thought you deserved to know. I’m sorry.”

  Varo didn’t loosen his grip. On the contrary, he strengthened it, knowing he was spinning out of control. Selwyn was lying. It couldn’t possibly be true. Ava had aborted a child? Unthinkable. He loved her. He knew now he had never fallen in love before. How could he not be shaken to his very core?

  “Varo?” Luke Selwyn’s voice quaked. He had taken a risk and now it looked as if his desperate ploy had backfired. His heart started to thump. He had never felt so exposed. For all he knew the Argentine was going to kill him.

  Out of nowhere a hot, gusting wind suddenly blew up. It was so fierce Luke felt a kind of desperation to find shelter. Not so the Argentine, who seemed to be part of it all. Was a desert storm about to roll over them? The Outback was such a dangerous, unpredictable place.

  Even as he wondered, de Montalvo thrust him away as if he was beneath contempt.

  How dared he?

  Luke fell heavily, wondering if something terribly untoward was on its way. His wife’s lover, of all people, intended to beat the living daylights out of him. And in the middle of a dust storm. They might have been in the Sahara. He could taste red dust in his mouth, clogging it, preventing speech. He looked up, as if impelled. It was a mistake. At that precise moment a fist-sized rock broke away from the towering sandstone formation, sending him into a cowering position. The rock appeared to hang for a split second in mid-air, before it fell with a clunk on his head—although he was covering it, and his ears.

  Hell and damnation!

  He felt the throb. There was probably a horrible amount of blood.

  For a second even Varo was transfixed. The wind that had gusted up so violently in the next minute had fallen away. It was a perfectly clear day. Not a cloud in the densely blue sky. He looked to Selwyn, huddled on the ground. “Are you okay?” He wasn’t going to offer comfort, but he had to check on the man.

  “I’m not right at all!” Selwyn yelled, spluttering and muttering invectives. “The blasted rock hit me.” He staggered to his feet, holding a hand to the side of his head.

  “I assure you, I didn’t throw it,” Varo said, turning to stare up at the regal desert monument. “Maybe Malyah Man didn’t like what you were saying?” he said, with a hard, cutting laugh.

  “Don’t be ridiculous!” Luke examined his right hand. It was streaked with blood. He would have thought the blood would be more copious…

  “Better get it cleaned up,” Varo suggested with no trace of sympathy. “I’ll drive.”

  “It’s hurting, I tell you.” Selwyn was now holding his head with two hands. He kept moaning, a continuing stream of colourful expletives flowing from his lips.

  “Could have been worse,” said Varo, giving Malyah Man a parting salute. He had seen many strange things at different times, but nothing the likes of that.

  Selwyn was already sprinting away to the Jeep, obviously fearing a barrage of rocks.

  I can’t—won’t—believe what he has told me.

  Yet how could he ask her? If it were the truth she would be mortally wounded, exposed. A lie and she would be furious with him for even giving it a moment’s credence. Either way, he was compelled to find out.

  But what if it is true? It will change everything.

  He couldn’t begin to go there. There were life-changing moments along the way.

  * * *

  Selwyn was still moaning as they made their way into Kooraki’s homestead. Ava, on trigger alert pretty well the whole time they had been away, was on hand to meet them in the Great Hall.

  She wore a smile that faded the moment they entered the front door. “What on earth has happened?” She looked from Varo to her husband. She hardly recognised him. Luke stared back glassy eyed, his fair hair standing up in tufts, streaks of red dust all over his face.

  “I’ll tell you what happened.” He drew a harsh, rasping breath. “Montalvo here seems to find it a joke. A big rock fell off that pillar. Size of a meteor, it was. It hit me on the side of the head. It could have killed me.” Real tears glinted in his eyes.

  Varo didn’t mean to, but he laughed. “Actually, I really and truly believe it was Malyah Man who pitched it at you,” he said, with no trace of humour. Indeed his temper was rising.

  “You’re saying a piece of sandstone fell off the monument? Is that it?” Ava asked, feeling sorry for the usually impeccable Luke. He looked such a mess he might have gone through a turbulent experience.

  “Not fell off,” Luke gritted. “The bastard aimed it right at me,” he said, setting about putting his hair to rights. “Don’t look so surprised, darling. You were always frightened of the thing.”

  “In awe of, Luke,” Ava corrected, seeing Varo visibly tauten at the “darling”. “I didn’t think Malyah Man was threatening. Well, not to me. But I wouldn’t have offended him for the world.” Ava’s eyes met Varo’s. “You okay?” she asked.

  Something more had happened out there. She could tell. There was something different about Varo. She couldn’t place it. But it was in the quality of his brilliant black gaze. It was as if he was looking at her with fresh eyes. Luke would do anything to sully her good name. The possibility he had attempted to do so was real. She didn’t have an inkling what he might have said.

  “I keep on the right side of the Ancients too,” Varo said.

  Ava was having trouble even thinking about Luke and his cracked head. Up until the time they had left, Luke had been playing the good guy. That alone made her stomach contract with nerves. Luke simply wasn’t a good guy. He was a man who liked to get square. A man who would always seek revenge for the slightest hurt or word out of place. What had he said to Varo that made him look at her differently? What was there to say, for God’s sake? She had always been gentle, respectful, restrained. She had never looked sideways at another man, even when she’d known plenty of men looked at her.

  Finally she threw out an impatient hand. “Let’s get you cleaned up, Luke, shall we? Is it painful?” God knew, Luke was no super-hero. He had always made a terrible patient, even with a head cold. “Do you think it might need a few stitches?”

  “Of course it doesn’t,” Varo broke in, sounding incredulous. “It was more in the nature of a shot across the bows. Let’s hope it worked.”

  Ava’s eyes swept Varo. She dearly wanted to know exactly what Varo had meant by that, but she couldn’t ask him there and then. It would have to wait for later. Or maybe she would never find out?

  Luke was complaining wanly that he needed “peace and quiet”. He could have his peace and quiet
. He could stay the night, but she had organised the first leg of his trip back to Sydney for the following day. Station supplies were being flown in mid-morning. Luke could fly out with the freight plane. He could take care of himself after that. She still didn’t know why he had come. They had discussed nothing. No doubt he was biding his time.

  Luke was. He moved off in the direction of the first-aid room, comforted by the fact his ploy was actually working. He’d got the bandwagon rolling. All he had to do was sit back and watch proceedings. Innocent or guilty, it was a well-documented fact mud stuck. He could see how upset the Argentine was, even if he was doing a great job of keeping his feelings under wraps. Particular lies had a huge advantage. How could Ava ever prove her innocence? She could protest, sure. But would de Montalvo believe her? Would anyone believe her? He knew he had Karen on side. Karen would back him. Uphold his lie. You had to understand Karen’s powerful jealousy of her cousin. He did. It had worked for him in the past. Lies could and did ruin affairs of the heart.

  Luke felt no pang of guilt. Ava was his wife. She would take her punishment and then they could get on with life. The Argentine was a man who would want children. Probably a dozen or more. De Montalvo’s perceptions of his angelic Ava had already shifted. He had almost heard the crash as Ava had fallen off her pedestal.

  Serve her right!

  He also blamed her for that whack on the head. People liked to pretend there were no such things as spirits and guardian figures. They should visit the Outback. He would swear he’d heard old Malyah Man make a deep throaty sound like yahggh as the rock began to fall. Weren’t the old Kadaitcha Men supposed to have hissed that over their dying victims?