by Margaret Way
“Isn’t life amazing?” He spoke with great irony.
“Maybe that’s why it’s so interesting?” she said, staring up at him, soaking him in. From somewhere he had found a beautifully tailored black suit, pristine white business shirt, obligatory black tie. Probably one of his half sisters had organised it, getting it in from the city. It fitted perfectly. He looked extraordinarily handsome and strangely daunting. Almost another person. “How are you really?” she asked, striving not to feel rebuffed.
“Well, most importantly I’m rich. Even your mother and father are prepared to accept me. Let bygones be bygones and all the rest.” He glanced over her head to where Cal and Gina were standing at the centre of a small group. “Cal and his Gina make a beautiful couple. Where’s young Robbie?”
“He’s at home with Rosa and Uncle Ed. After ten years on his own, Uncle Ed looks set to remarry. Rosa has reminded him of all the lovely things he had forgotten.”
“Good. I like your uncle Ed. He deserves to rediscover some happiness. Cal and Gina working things out?” Gina, as if sensing she was being spoken about, suddenly turned to give them a little smile and a wave.
Meredith waved back. “They appear to be, yet I feel both of them are struggling with a lot of hurt. We’ve since found out there was a conspiracy going on to keep them apart. My mother and my aunt Lorinda, I’m sorry to say.”
“Why doesn’t that surprise me?”
His tone stung.
“You’ll be getting your invitation to the wedding,” Meredith continued, very uncomfortable beneath his searing gaze.
“I expect I will. Now.”
“I know how you must feel.” It was a great strain being with him in this mood.
“You don’t know how I feel, Meredith.” The sight of her was playing havoc with his nerves. He wanted to haul her into his arms and scream at her, as well. “How could you? You look lovely, by the way. Black suits you.” With her long arched neck and her hair pulled back into some sort of roll she was as graceful as a swan.
Meredith stared over to where her brother and Gina were standing. “Cal wants to take us home, Steven,” she said, aware of the flight plans. “I made a mistake coming here. The family is represented. I’m sorry.”
“You didn’t make a mistake, Meredith,” he said crisply, his manner changing. “We have to talk.”
She looked up at him, startled. “About what? You’re in a strange mood.”
“Why wouldn’t I be? I’ve had so many shocks this past week I scarcely know how to handle myself.”
“You look perfectly in command to me. Your half sisters genuinely care about you. I’ve spoken to both of them.”
“They’re lovely women.” His expression momentarily softened. “I’ll never forget it was they who approached me. Far too much of my life has been wasted.”
“You can change all that, Steven,” she said gently.
“Sure!” His tone was falsely expansive. “I have the solution to all my problems. I have money, position, the running of one of the country’s legendary cattle stations. I can even get the girl I want. I can’t buy her, of course. She’s got money of her own. But I’m pretty sure if I talk to her dad, he’ll give me the green light.”
Her hands were trembling. “Do you think that’s all you need, my father’s approval?” She threw up her gently determined chin.
“Meredith, did you think I was talking about you?” he asked suavely. “Wait and see if I don’t make the most eligible list like Cal. There won’t even be a scandal. The media will turn it all into a biblical tale. Prodigal son comes home. All anyone cares about is money and who’s got it!”
She pressed her palms together to steady her hands. “On the contrary, I don’t care about money, Steven. I don’t think I even care about you any more. You’re eaten up with bitterness.”
He shook his head at her, a demonic sparkle in his golden eyes. “While you’re a rich young woman who hasn’t yet learned to stand on her own two feet.”
Sparks rose into the air around them. “I’m surprised you saw anything in me in the first place,” she said. “I’ll say goodbye, Steven. I hope you have a good life. I mean that.”
“How sweet!” He surprised her by catching her wrist, locking his fingers about it. “You leave now and you’ll never see me again.” He bent to her, speaking very quietly.
The strangeness of his manner was undermining her. “Surely you can’t be asking me to stay?”
“I’m telling you to stay.” Now his voice was full of authority. “Did you really think you could get away from me as easily as that?” He drew her so close to his side, its significance couldn’t be lost on the room.
“You’re mad!” There was no way she could break away without causing a scene.
“That’s too ridiculous. I’m nothing of the kind. Pop along now and tell the family you’re going to stay over. Tell them I have lots to tell you. Tell them your new life begins now.”
* * *
It was inevitable at some point Cal and Gina would encounter Kym. Sad occasion or not Cal could see the simmering jealousy just below the surface of Kym’s murmured greetings, so civil and proper. Cal knew she took not the slightest pleasure in meeting Gina, but she was doing a fairly good job of hiding it. Though not from Gina, he fancied. Gina was extraordinarily intuitive. Kym was busy assessing her from head to toe, working very hard to find a flaw.
You won’t find one, Cal thought, wishing all the hurt would seep out of him, believing it would take time. His big question was, why when Gina had found herself pregnant, did she not try to contact him? Even had he been engaged to Kym—never mind that hadn’t happened—but even if—he would have broken his engagement and married her. He had put the question to her heavy heartedly and she had recoiled.
“My worst fear was you would take my baby from me.”
“How could you possibly have thought such a thing?”
“Because I was scared. Scared of you. Scared of your family. Why are you trying to blame me?”
The sad truth was, he did.
* * *
As for Kym, desperately unhappy after the break-up of her engagement to Cal, she now found herself desperately unhappy once more. It showed in her paleness which she hoped would be interpreted as sadness. She had truly believed—with Jocelyn’s encouragement—she only had to bide her time and Cal would come to his senses, accepting she was the best possible choice for him. Now he had presented them all with the object of his mad passion from years back. Not only that, a ready-made heir, who according to a besotted Jocelyn was “the image of Cal.” In one fell swoop Cal McKendrick, the man Kym had fixated on for so many good years of her life, was lost to her. She had ceased to exist for him. She could see it in his eyes as they rested on her, the outsider.
Even as she entertained such thoughts, Kym was murmuring to this woman who had stolen her heart’s desire from her. “I do hope we’re going to be friends, Gina. May I wish you both much joy.” It was a lovely little speech and it tripped sweetly off her tongue. She would hate it to be barred from Coronation Hill. Hate it still more not to retain Cal as her friend.
* * *
“So that was your ex-fiancée?” Gina remarked quietly as Kym drifted away. “She still loves you.” Her voice softened with pity. Gina knew all too well the pain of loss.
Cal couldn’t be drawn. He had caught sight of some people he wanted Gina to meet. “Kym will find the right guy to make her happy,” he said. “I certainly hope so. She’s wasted years of her life on me.” He began to steer Gina across the crowded room.
First, Kym has to forget you, Gina thought. She doubted she and Kym would ever become friends. Thank God for Meredith! It made Gina happy to know she had Meredith supporting her. Their friendship had progressed rapidly. Meredith was a lovely p
erson. She deserved happiness, a full life. Gina had the presentiment all roads led to Steven Lockhart, or Steven Lancaster as he was now known. She’d had to bite down hard on her lip when Cal’s parents had offered Steven their condolences. The acquisition of land and a proud pioneering name really did make extraordinary things happen, she thought.
CHAPTER EIGHT
BY MIDAFTERNOON the last of the mourners had left the station in their private planes, charter planes, helicopters, trucks, one bus and all manner of four-wheel drives. Catherine and Sarah were among them. The sisters had spent a few hours of the afternoon discussing Lancaster family matters with Steven, grief-stricken about the deaths of their father and brother, but enormously relieved, even jubilant at the back of their minds a Lancaster would take over the running of Euroka and its several outstations.
“Lord knows what would have happened had Fate not brought you into the family frame, Steven,” Catherine said.
Both women were anxious to return to their children; each had two girls, not present at the funerals, because the sisters hadn’t deemed it advisable to uproot them from school, and if the truth be known, their father and brother had shown little interest in any of them. Both sisters put that down to the fact they were all girls. It was a sad fact of life—one that Meredith could attest to—some fathers had little use for their girl children.
“Fortunately our girls’ fathers adore them,” Cate assured them.
Steve’s response was immediate and sincere. “Well, I want to meet them at the earliest opportunity.”
“Oh, they’ll love you!” Sarah had turned to him, blinking tears out of her golden-brown eyes.
Another prophecy that turned out perfectly true.
* * *
Meredith and Steve returned to the empty homestead in a near silence. Both of them had been treading around one another almost on tiptoe. It was amazing how greatly humans tortured themselves, suffering in silence, often unnecessarily, devising strategies for containing emotions, strangely frightened to reveal what was really in their hearts lest they be met by rejection. Love was such a terrible ache.
Meredith went to stand at the balustrade staring out at the horizon. The sky was piling higher, ever higher incandescent storm clouds, great plumes of purple, indigo, black, slivers of silver. Their depths shot through with the crimson rays of the sinking sun. It was a fantastic sight against the burning red of the pyramids of sand that lay to the north and the south-west of the station. The mirage was abroad, busy playing its usual tricks. Silhouettes of tall, slender trees stood out amid the wavy silver lines. Little stick people ran about in the somnolent heat and in the roughest driest areas blue lagoons glittered like polished mirrors, overshadowed by thickets of palms. These were the phantom pools and water holes the explorers of old had been tricked into trekking towards with no hope of ever reaching their destination. If only they had met up with some aboriginal tribe, Meredith thought. Aboriginals knew the exact location of wells and springs in the most forbidding country. She knew of many pioneer lives that had been saved by the kindness of the tribal people, including her own family.
The heat had increased not diminished with the closing hours of the day. It was difficult to believe such an extraordinary celestial display might not amount to a powerful electrical storm. At least it might clear the air, she thought.
Doug Winstone, the station overseer, was making his way towards the homestead. He had a curious rolling gait, the result of a serious injury some years back when an enraged bull had gored his leg.
“I’ll go and have a few words with him,” Steven called.
“Righto, and please tell him to thank Julie once again.” Meredith lifted a hand to Doug who doffed his dusty hat.
“Will do.”
It was Doug’s wife, Julie, who had cooked and cleaned for the homestead over a number of years, but she and Doug had never been asked to take up residence in any part of a very large house. Instead, Julie had gone back and forth from the overseer’s bungalow. It was she and the other station wives who had served at the funeral reception, although Cate had ordered in the mountain of sandwiches, biscuits and small cakes that had disappeared beneath the mourners’ famished onslaught.
She watched the two men talking earnestly, no doubt discussing job priorities. She, herself, had been greeted most respectfully as if everyone on the station expected that she and Steven would make a match of it after an appropriate period of mourning. They looked an odd couple, Steven and Doug. Steven so tall and young man lean, Doug short of stature, top heavy, with a bull neck, powerful shoulders and a barrel chest. He and Steven had reached an understanding right away. It showed in the body language. These were two men who already trusted each other.
She moved back from the balustrade that badly needed re-painting. The verandah wrapped the lower floor but not the top floor. She thought that a shame but it could easily be added on. The homestead was a mix of Regency and Victorian architecture. It had symmetry about it, but it was definitely not a welcoming place. All houses had an aura and this house badly needed its aura changing. It was an unremarkable building compared to Coronation’s homestead, but she was certain it could be turned into something far more impressive. The size was there. The interior rooms were all large, with high ceilings, and well proportioned. A lot of charm could be added to the exterior simply with adding some decorative details; certainly a repainting of the shutters on the large sash windows and all the timberwork, columns, balustrading, fretwork, etc. The broad, canopied verandah was very attractive, but the timber columns needed to be wreathed in flowering vines, maybe a beautiful violet-blue to go with the shutters that could be painted darkest green. She knew exactly what had to be done, even if she could see it would be a big ongoing job.
They had seen Cate and Sarah off at the airstrip. Neither sister had appeared the least bit surprised she should stay back with Steven. There was only one possible reason for that, Meredith thought. They believed what Doug and Julie Winstone believed; she and Steven were lovers. Her breath came sharp and jagged at the very thought. She felt herself on the very brink of a major turning point in her life, even if it looked as though the two of them were in retreat. It was a travesty of her true feelings.
The two men concluded their conversation. Doug tipped his hat to her once again. She responded with another wave, while Steven strode back to her. How she admired the wide line of his shoulders, the narrow waist, the lean hips.
“What exactly am I doing here?” she asked him as they moved into the unattractive entrance hall when such an area should always be inviting. It was long and fairly narrow with a timber staircase that led to the upper floor set just outside the drawing room. Something else that needed relocating.
“I would have thought that was obvious.” Steven spoke with a false nonchalance, thinking all this past week he had been moving in a dream. He, who had always been on the outside, was in overnight. “You’re keeping me company. Otherwise you would have gone home with your family.”
“I suppose!” She answered coolly enough, when she was all but delirious with anticipation. She was, after all, quite, quite alone with him and she had taken steps to ensure she was safe.
“So this is Euroka homestead,” Steve muttered, as they moved into the drawing room. “It’s rather a scary old place, isn’t it?” He lifted his handsome dark head, staring about him. “That was my dominant impression. It could even be haunted.”
Meredith couldn’t control a shiver. “It does seem to have a coldness at its heart.” She too began to look around her, making changes inside her head. It wouldn’t be all that hard to make the room look more natural and inviting simply by pulling down the heavy velvet curtains. Velvet in the Outback! She would introduce cool colours for a start. Maybe citron and white? The drawing room was furnished with a number of fine antique pieces—indeed, to Meredith’s eye it l
ooked like a drawing room of the Victorian period—but the spacious room had an air of neglect about it. It even looked dusty though there wasn’t a speck of actual dust in sight. Julie Winstone and her helpers had made sure of that. But a home was not complete without the woman at its heart.
Steven’s voice broke into her reverie. “No woman!” he said, echoing her own thoughts. “No woman’s touch! How long ago was it the girls’ mother died? They didn’t say and I didn’t like to ask.”
“Quite early I think. Cate and Sarah are in their early forties. I think their mother died when they were still in their twenties.” Meredith fingered the heavy velvet curtains, wanting to give them a good yank. They were stiff with age. “I know both of them married young.”
“Probably broke their necks to leave home,” Steve observed dryly. “Hell, this is a terrible place. It looks like it’s been caught in a time warp.”
“It’s your place now,” Meredith reminded him. “Men left alone generally let things slide. The house is shabby, but that can be easily fixed.”
“It’s not only shabby. It’s unnaturally quiet.”
Indeed, the only sound was the soft fall of their footsteps on the massive Persian rug. That at least was splendid, all jewelled medallions and floral arabesques. “It knows one era has ended and another has begun,” Meredith hazarded, into the deathly quiet.
“Maybe the house doesn’t approve of me.” Steven had caught sight of his reflection in a tall gilt-framed mirror. It seemed to him he had changed. Maybe it was the sombre funeral clothes Cate had flown in for him. He had never owned such clothes in his life. “Have I changed or is it just me?” He turned to Meredith, a strikingly handsome young man who now had a chance at achieving some measure of greatness.
She didn’t have to consider. “Yes, you have.”
“In what way?” He didn’t know if he liked the sound of that.
“You’re a cattle baron now and you’re behaving accordingly. Or to put it another way you’ve been given the opportunity to be your own man.”