by Miranda Lee
Cassie groaned. This was ridiculous! She was letting her mind run away with her. Dan wouldn't be so cruel, so ruthless! He wouldn't!
Would he?
She threw back the covers and leapt from the bed, refusing to allow herself to lie there and wallow in such imaginings. That was all they were, she berated herself savagely. Silly, stupid, sick imaginings!
She dragged in a deep breath and determined to do something. Anything to stop her mind churning away!
A walk! That was it! She would get dressed and go for a walk. That should clear her head. She would go down to the river and watch the sun rise. She might even wander over and take a last look at Rosie. It wouldn't take long, and at least it would eliminate that worry for the rest of the day.
Ten minutes later Cassie was showered and dressed in jeans and sloppy Joe. She made the bed then tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen. There she quietly got herself a glass of milk and was about to leave when she spied a notice-board on the wall near the back door. She hesitated, then dashed off a quick message, telling Dan where she'd gone.
The sun had already risen by the time she reached the centre of the bridge, splashing a red gold into the grey waters. But it was cold just standing there, so Cassie kept on walking across, her eyes automatically scanning the horse paddocks in the distance. As her gaze swept over Rosie's field, a prickle of fear clutched at her heart. She couldn't see Rosie. Of course, she could be resting in the shed, but...
Cassie quickened her step, almost stumbling down the steps on to the far riverbank. She broke into a run, covering the distance along the path to the makeshift stables in record time, launching herself on to the fence surrounding Rosie's paddock. Where was she? Cassie's head swivelled this way and that. The paddock looked empty.
Suddenly Cassie saw her, lying prone in the far corner beneath the old fig tree.
Never had Cassie felt such panic. It tore into her belly, churning, painful, blinding. Oh, dear God, she prayed, pulse pounding, tears threatening. Don't let anything happen to my Rosie!
Cassie was through the fence and at the distressed animal's side in a flash.
'There, there, Rosie,' she cried, sinking down into the dirt on trembling knees and stroking the horse's quivering flanks. 'I'm here, old love. I'm here. Everything will be all right.'
But everything was not all right. The foal was not turned right in the birth canal, and Cassie needed all of her skill and patience to rectify the matter. By the time she had, Rosie seemed almost exhausted. The horse was old and tiring quickly. Cassie felt helpless, but she kept the growing panic out of her voice and talked to Rosie in calm, reassuring tones. 'You're doing splendidly, old girl. Have a rest for a while.' Cassie cradled the horse's head in her lap, letting her long, stroking hands and soothing words give the mare a much needed respite.
Another contraction started. Rosie stiffened. Her head jerked up in pain before wearily dropping back. Cassie felt like crying, but she didn't. Yet the effort to stay calm and supportive was tremendous.
Time ticked away and Cassie's worry increased. She wished she had her bag with her. An injection to strengthen the contractions might have helped. But there again, maybe not. Rosie was not young. Cassie resumed praying.
'Come on, old love,' she encouraged verbally. 'You can do it. Now here comes another contraction. Push!'
And to her surprise Rosie responded magnificently. She gave a great heave, then another and another. And out popped a slithering mass, the protective bag peeling back to reveal a healthy, though very messy foal.
'Fantastic!' Cassie praised, tears of relief and joy finally gushing over. With the pain gone Rosie was a different horse, scrambling to her feet and immediately attending to her foal. It had been many years since the old mare had given birth, but animals never forgot. Her long motherly tongue began the tedious task of cleaning and drying without any hesitation.
Cassie retreated to the fence, climbing through to wash her hands under the tank tap, then returning to lean against the railings and watch Rosie's meticulous work. The mare did not stop till her baby's coat was dry, after which she began the even slower job of nudging the foal up on to unsteady feet. When finally the filly—Cassie had craned her neck like a rubber man to acquire this knowledge—made it up on to those spindly long limbs, Rosie began directing her gently towards her teat, swinging her rump around every time her wayward charge headed in the wrong direction. It was a slow, frustrating process, but Rosie was patient and kept repeating the manoeuvre. Success was difficult because the foal, being a fraction premature, was frailer than some and kept falling over.
Cassie clapped her hands when the filly finally remained standing long enough to clamp on and suck. Her chest felt like it would burst with pride. For this was her triumph as well as Rosie's. She had single-handedly brought the mare back from certain death to this miraculous moment. More tears poured from her eyes as another well of emotion spilled over.
'So there you are!'
Cassie swung round to see Dan striding angrily towards her. He ground to a halt beside her, his anger disintegrating into exasperation when he looked into her eyes. 'Oh, God, no,' he muttered, 'not tears again.' His head shook from side to side in utter frustration. His sigh was weary. 'Even I can't cope with this.'
Taken aback, Cassie blinked up at him.
'And I certainly can't cope with any more of those goddamned confused innocent looks!' he exploded. 'You agreed to this marriage, Cassie. Admittedly, I forced your hand, but you know it's for Jason's good. You could at least give it a chance instead of... Oh, hell!' He ran an agitated hand through his hair and his eyes mirrored a type of desperation. 'What else could I do?' he cried in anguish.
Cassie was stunned by his tortured outburst, but the implications of the emotional words slowly penetrated. Could this be a ruthless man talking? A man without feeling...cold and callous? Impossible!
'Goddamn it, Cassie,' he burst out again, 'I'm not a saint and my patience is fast drawing to an end. I tried to be a considerate husband last night, didn't I? I put your feelings first, though, damn it all, walking away from you was the hardest thing I have ever done.'
Cassie's heart contracted. He had wanted her. He had!
'And what happens?' he raged on, grabbing her by the shoulders and shaking her. 'I get up this morning, only to find your bed neatly made and you gone! I've been looking for you for over an hour...worrying...not knowing... And when I find you, you're in tears again. What am I supposed to do, dammit? Or don't you care what I do ‑?'
'Oh, Dan,' she broke in breathlessly, 'I'm so sorry... I... Didn't you see my note?'
His hands dropped to his side in surprise. 'Note?'
'I left a message in the kitchen telling you I was walking over to check on Rosie... Obviously you didn't see it. And my crying has nothing to do with you or our marriage. I was crying from happiness.'
She grabbed his arm and turned his stiff, resistant body towards the fence. 'See? Rosie's had her foal. A lovely filly... That's why I was so long. She was in labour when I arrived and she needed some help. .
Cassie pointed to the mare and foal, who were obviously doing well, the filly standing contentedly in her mother's shadow, Rosie continually checking to see if her little miracle was still there.
'See?' Cassie looked up at Dan, her eyes shining with tears. 'See?' she repeated anxiously when he again said nothing.
He looked long and hard at her. 'I see,' he said at last in a thick voice.
A surge of intense relief swamped Cassie. He understood... She had reached him.
'Thank God,' she sighed.
Cassie knew now, beyond any shadow of doubt, that she wanted Dan as her husband—on any terms. She loved him to distraction. And now that he'd shown that his consideration had been based on true caring, that he genuinely wanted their marriage to work... Well... Cassie was prepared to more than meet him half-way.
'So you weren't thinking of leaving me?' he asked, still frowning.
'No!'
/> His face remained guarded. 'The tears were really for the horse?'
'I swear.'
Gradually the tautness left his features, but he did not smile. His eyes flicked over Rosie's way. 'This horse—Rosie... She means a lot to you?'
'Oh, yes.'
'Why is she so special?'
Cassie proceeded to tell him all about Rosie, talking with the enthusiasm of a true animal lover. 'I couldn't let her become dog food, could I?' she finished, flushed with pleasure at Dan's showing interest.
He gave her a slightly sardonic look. 'No...of course not. What about all these other horses?' he went on, dry amusement settling on his face. 'Are they refugees as well?'
'Most of them. But Rosie's special. The others I will sell or give away once they're in good condition. Rosie I could never part with.'
They had begun walking along the path as they talked.
'Why don't you move them over to the island?' Dan suggested. 'There's plenty of good pasture.'
'That would be wonderful, but...'
'But what?'
'They'd have to have stables, or a barn. It gets pretty nippy up here in the winter. And they like shelter when it rains.'
'Stables it is, then.'
Cassie frowned. 'Good stables run into a lot of money. Perhaps ‑'
'Cassie!' Dan stopped. He took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him. 'I can afford stables. I can afford anything you want. Anything! All you have to do is ask and I'll buy it for you.'
Cassie's heart squeezed tight as she stared up into his beautiful, serious face. You can't buy me what I want most, Dan, came the destructive thought, but she firmly pushed it aside. He was trying hard to please her. And he did care. Maybe it was just for Jason's sake, but why quibble about that? Everything was looking a lot brighter than it had when she'd woken up that morning.
She smiled. A marriage where only one partner loved would always be a lop-sided compromise. Better that she begin compromising right now. 'I might take you up on that,' she said with feigned lightness.
'Just name it!'
Cassie could see that he wanted to buy her something, needed to buy her something. Perhaps it was his way of making up for forcing her into the marriage. But really, she didn't need anything, and had to rack her brains to come up with a suggestion.
'I...I could do with some new tyres on my jeep.'
'Tyres?' He grimaced. 'I offer my new bride anything she wants in the world and she says tyres!'
Cassie could see that he was really quite pleased.
'Dan,' she murmured, her voice catching in her throat.
'Yes?' Wariness again showed in his eyes.
'Good morning,' she said. And kissed him.
There was no doubting that she shocked him. He jerked back from her lips as though they were coated in poison. 'And what was that for?' he said, after regathering his composure.
'Nothing. I just felt like doing it.'
He lifted a single eyebrow. 'Did you, now?'
'Yes.'
'Impulsive, are you?'
'Sometimes...'
He gave her the oddest look, part sensual, part sad. 'You know... I've been thinking... We don't know each other very well, do we?'
Cassie stiffened, then turned to walk on. Dan moved with her. She hoped his remark wasn't another lead into his telling her about his previous marriage. Perhaps it was irrational, but she still didn't want to know the whys and wherefores of the relationship that had drawn Dan away from her. Maybe at the back of her mind a few questions niggled. Maybe she would like to know what kind of woman Roberta had been, whether she'd been wealthy or beautiful, and how she had died. And maybe in time she would ask... But not now! Her sense of compromise did not extend that far as yet.
'We know enough,' she said tautly.
She kept on walking, but she could feel him looking at her. 'That's a matter of opinion,' he said quietly, but the words carried hurt.
Cassie's regret was instant. They had actually been breaking down the barriers between them. Now, with her stupid jealousy, she had sent them back to square one.
'I'll have to ring Roger later.' she went on.
changing the subject in an effort to smooth over the sudden tension. 'He'll need to check on Rosie and the foal while I'm away. I hope nothing goes wrong.' Her eyebrows scrunched up in a burst of new worry. 'Perhaps we could...?' She turned sharply towards Dan.
'No, Cassie,' he said firmly, taking her elbow as they began climbing the steps up on to the suspension bridge. 'We can't. We are going to Sydney this afternoon and that's that. Roger will look after the foal. We need time alone together, away from here, away from everyone. We need privacy.'
Privacy... A knot formed in Cassie's stomach as she dwelt on that word and all its connotations. Privacy... As they crossed the bridge she darted a surreptitious glance down the river to the point, and the studio. Privacy with Dan meant only one thing...
Cassie stopped abruptly in the centre of the bridge. 'Dan...'
'Yes, Cassie?'
'Do you still paint?' she blurted out.
'No.'
She frowned.
Dan's mouth curved back into an ironic smile. 'I don't mind telling you why not,' he said, answering her unspoken question. 'Truth is, I haven't had much time for painting over the last few years. I've been too busy making money.'
'Oh.'
'You know, you've never even asked me what business I'm in. I could very well be a drug smuggler, for all you know.'
Cassie was taken aback by Dan's remark, more because of her reaction than the comment itself. She instinctively and immediately rejected any possibility of his being a criminal. Dan might be a typically selfish male, he might even have been an unfaithful husband, but he was basically good. Despite what had happened between them, she felt sure that he didn't deliberately set out to hurt people. He did seem to have a conscience. Somewhere. And criminals didn't.
'I wouldn't believe that for a second,' she stated truthfully.
'That's a relief to know.' His voice was dry. 'I thought you'd believe anything of me.'
'Of course I wouldn't.' She turned smiling eyes up to him and took pleasure in his surprise. 'Well? Are you going to tell me what business you're in, or do I have to drag it out of you?'
He laughed, then frowned. 'It's not that easy to explain.'
'See? Now you know why I didn't ask.'
He laughed again. Cassie liked the sound. In fact, she liked this relaxed, smiling Dan a lot. He seemed so different from the man who had callously told her that he didn't give a damn for her feelings. This was more like the warm, loving Dan of nine years ago, a Dan she could live with.
'How about import and export, property development, rental properties and blue-chip stocks?'
She pursed her lips. 'Sounds impressive.'
'And are you?'
'Am I what?'
'Impressed.'
It was her turn to laugh. 'Sorry. Money's not my thing.'
He sighed, but not unhappily so. 'I guessed as much. By the way, why did you ask me about my painting?'
Cassie swallowed and thought quickly. 'I...er...was just wondering what you intend doing with the studio,' she improvised, nodding down the river. Initially she had wanted to ask him about her portrait. Whether he had finished it or thrown it away. It had been only half-done when he'd left. But once again such a question felt too close to the bone for their fragile relationship. Better to keep the conversation light. She could handle that.
Dan stared down at the studio. Cassie was perturbed to see his features tighten. 'I intend doing nothing!' His tone was brusque.
'Nothing?'
'That's right. It's there and it can stay there. But I don't plan on using it. Come along.' He took Cassie's arm and propelled her forwards.
'Mrs Bertram always cooks breakfast for eight o'clock and there's nothing she hates more than cooking for absent mouths. She'll be having a pink fit.'
Mrs Bertram was doing no such thing. S
he was a very efficient woman and had everything under control. Cassie and Dan settled down in the morning-room to a delicious breakfast of freshly blended fruit juices, potato cakes and cheese-flavoured scrambled eggs, along with toast and coffee.
'This is simply delicious,' Cassie complimented, and the housekeeper beamed. 'I think I'm going to become very spoilt.'
'You'll have to tell me what Jason likes to eat, Mrs McKay,' the other woman said. 'Perhaps you could make a list and I can get in supplies while you're away.'
Dan looked up from where he'd been sitting, silently forking eggs into his mouth. Cassie was aware that his mood had changed since she'd mentioned the studio, and, while it bothered her underneath, she was determined to ignore it.
'You don't let Jason eat junk food, do you, Cassie?' Dan said. 'I don't agree with children eating rubbish all the time.'
Cassie prickled with resentment at what seemed like Dan interfering before she remembered her resolution. Compromise was the name of the game. 'Jason has always had a healthy, balanced diet, Dan, but the occasional ice-cream and sweet doesn't do any harm, does it, Mrs Bertram?'
'Of course not! Life would be pretty boring without some luxuries.'
A dry smile pulled at Dan's mouth. 'That's what I keep telling my wife... Speaking of diet, Mrs B., you won't forget to feed Hugo, will you?'
'Forget to feed that animal?' The housekeeper made a horrified sound. 'If I did I might end up on the menu myself. That dog eats like a lion!'
'Hugo's a lamb,' Dan countered in mock disagreement.
'More like a wolf in sheep's clothing,' Cassie joined in.
Mrs Bertram cackled. 'Oh, I like that one!'
'Are you women ganging up on me already? Watch it, Mrs B.—I could always hire a male housekeeper.'
Mrs Bertram laughed some more. 'I don't think you will, Mr McKay,' she said, glancing back at Cassie as she walked from the room. 'Not with that lovely bride of yours.'
Cassie blushed as Dan's eyes swung on to hers, their black depths engulfing her with a sudden, hot intimacy. 'She might be right there,' he drawled. 'Maybe I should even hire a woman pilot. What do you think?'
'Your bride might object to that,' Cassie retorted without thinking.