by Margaret Way
“You’re afraid of hurt?”
“Not hurt. Desolation,” he said quietly. “Aren’t you?”
Her expression changed as her spirit opened wider. She let out a sigh. “I’m sorry, Troy. I know we have to talk this out, but I’m getting ruled by my emotions. You’ve touched me like nobody else can. You’re worried my career will become more important to me as time goes by?”
“It scares me,” he said succinctly. “Your music is so much a part of you.”
“It is. But what you seem to be talking about is performances. Going away on tour?”
“Heck yes!” He nodded his head sharply. “I’m absolutely certain that’s what Gardiner has in mind. I hear on all sides you’ve got a big future. I firmly believe it. What hope would I have, Casey, girl, keeping you down on the farm?”
“You could keep me pregnant,” she suggested, not bothering to rein in her emotion. “I’d like four kids.”
“Casey, honey, be serious,” he begged, grasping a thick knot of her hair and holding her beautiful face up to him.
“You don’t want kids?” She pressed her lips together.
He gave in to his helpless desire to kiss her, taking his time about it. “We could start tonight seeing you’re in such a hurry,” he muttered, desperate to leave his imprint on her. “I want kids nearly as much as I want you!”
“Well I want kids so much it hurts,” she moaned. “I’ve already planned on your being the father. Of course if you reckon a strong woman is too much to handle—”
He gave a harsh guffaw. “I’d be happy to tame you, McGuire.”
“That’s good!” she sighed voluptuously, her breasts swelling, “because I’m desperate to be made love to.”
Sensual heat was in his hands. “I can help you with that, too.” Isn’t that what love was? he thought. Laying himself open to everything, including pain?
She brushed a tear from her lashes. “Your father’s dead, yet we go on with life.”
“We have to,” he said, his heart jolted with fresh pain.
“Your dad didn’t like me much,” she said in a melancholy voice.
“So how come he described you as a glorious creature?”
She stared up at him, her eyebrows rising in disbelief. “I’m amazed to hear that.” Clifford Connellan could not have said it the way he’d looked at her.
“It’s true all the same.” Troy laughed strangely. “That was Dad. He couldn’t seem to say anything good to your face.” He stood, bringing her with him. “I’ve waited for you forever! You’re like the light at the end of a long dark tunnel.”
“I like that!” she sighed. “It’s true for me, too. I’m here now, Troy,” she soothed him, revelling in the love he communicated just holding her in his arms. “And I won’t be gone in the morning, either. We’re going to wake up together. It’ll be wonderful! You said you loved my song. Think what I was saying. It was about us. Not just another song for an album. I love you, Troy. I want to share my life with you. That’s my ambition.”
Elation fell on him like gold dust. He drew back a moment to rest his hands on her shoulders. “The world lost for love, Casey?” His eyes touched her lovely mouth. “As long as you’re very, very sure?”
“You are my fulfilment, Connellan,” she said huskily. “None of it matters but you.”
His body, which had been knotted with tension, relaxed. “Truly?”
“You bet!” She shaped the words fiercely lest he doubt her. “Though I’m disappointed you couldn’t trust me a little. As for my career! I don’t long for success in that way. Besides.” She shrugged. “There’s nothing stopping me from continuing to write songs.”
He smiled crookedly. “I’d thought that myself.” How many times had he thought it? He’d even tried to steer her towards it. But would it be enough?
Her heart melted at the hope in his eyes. “Have you forgotten I’ll have other things occupying my time? I’ve thought about this, Troy, just the way you have. No matter what Glenn has in mind I never intended to jump on the merry-go-round. I’ve made a lot of useful contacts. I know people in the business. There’s no reason why I can’t get my songs out there without making a career the entire focus of my life. It’s not a big deal cutting albums, either. Maybe a personal appearance now and again. I’m sure it could be worked out and if it can’t? I’ll still be okay. I’ll have you!”
“You sure will.” His arms closed around her. “I’m your man. But you can’t just drop everything, can you?” Troy was desperate to make this work. “You signed a contract.”
“Yes and Adam vetted it. He made sure he looked after my interests. I haven’t signed my life away. Be sure of that.”
Troy clung to that. He had been offered this one chance at heaven. He wasn’t about to let it slip out of reach. “Then the sooner I get a ring on your finger the better,” he said.
If it pleased her he would love her to wear his mother’s ring. Sapphire for the colour of her eyes. Diamonds for the sparkle. The earrings. The necklace. Surely his father must have known?
Ring! For some incredibly strange reason Casey hadn’t reckoned on rings. Her mother didn’t have any engagement ring. Wedding ring, either. Destiny had robbed her of that.
Almost in a trance Casey allowed him to lead her into his bedroom where he suddenly swooped her up into his arms like a doll and laid her on the bed. The look on his face, the passion and the vibrancy almost knocked her out.
Never had she been more aware of herself as a woman. A woman loved. Every nerve in her body had electricity running through it. Tears pricked in her eyes, gathered. Transforming tears that came from the deepest depths of her being. No wonder he was filled with fear she might leave him. Her only wish now was never to leave his side. She was quite clear in her mind what her goal was. He was bigger, better, more generous, more compassionate than any man she had ever known. And he was hers! This wasn’t some impossible dream. It was a living experience and it was happening now.
Troy! A lion among men with his unblinking golden gaze.
It was trained on her, so desirous, so tender, devout! How beautiful, how humbling. In utter silence he undressed her, unravelling and peeling her like a peach, running his hands lingeringly up and down the trembling length of her body, hands vibrating over her breasts, her stomach, her mound, his callused fingertips so erotic. Pleasure and excitement rippled across her face. Her eyelids were fluttering. She strained upward towards him and he swooped, kissing her.
Then swiftly he turned away shucking his clothes to reveal his own superb body, his skin many many shades deeper than hers. Bronze velvet, white satin.
She called to him in an excited whisper and he went to her, all his senses ablaze, his throat crowded with words of love but too dry to say them. The two of them melted into each other like wax melts in flames. It was a meeting not just of the physical, but the emotional and the spiritual. It was a declaration of love that was to prove as constant as a rock.
They were alone. Perfectly alone, each striving to hold on to the solemnity of this night. Something that could be forever recalled. Casey had no other name for her rapture than perfection.
How to hold on to it?
She knew how.
Grasp it with both hands.
EPILOGUE
Murraree Station
The Once in a Lifetime Wedding
Of Darcy McIvor & Curt Berenger
ON THIS day of all days the bride looked exquisite, lit from within. The love she felt for her husband shimmered in her remarkable aquamarine eyes. Joy radiated from her to him, spilling over onto their families and their many happy guests. The elegant simplicity of her bridal gown, a rich duchesse satin, set off Darcy’s own natural beauty and her regal air.
She was attended by four bridesmaids, her sisters, Courtney and Casey and her friends from childhood Fiona Kinsella and Lisa Sanders. The bridesmaids, too, wore duchesse satin. But whereas the bride favoured a high neck and fitted sleeves, the bridesmaids’ gowns
were strapless, form fitting with a removable train. The colours were lovely; harmonising shades of violet, jacaranda, cerise and rose-pink. Each colour suited the wearer perfectly. Around their young throats they wore a lustrous necklet of Broome pearls, the finest in the world, each pearl perfectly matched to its neighbour. Gifts from the bridegroom to be treasured forever.
The searing heat of the Dry was over. The tropical North had received weeks of torrential rain, causing the flood waters to rush down every drought ravaged river and stream. A thousand miles away the vast flat bed of interlocking waterways that was the Channel Country became the catchment area for the life giving rains.
After the water abated there was rich fattening pasture for the cattle, the Outback animals and the great legions of birds, particularly the nomadic water birds that flocked in to the brimming swamps and billabongs to breed. The paper-dry red earth seemingly overnight became a monumental carpet of everlastings, white, gold, pink and purple. The scarlet Sturt Desert Pea spread for miles like a luxuriant rampant vine. Native orchids made their brief, ravishing appearance, the sun orchids, the slipper orchids and the enamel orchids with their glossy petals.
Prostrate desert plants flowered in vast patches, the Carpet of Snow, the Firebush, the Saltbush and the yellow poppies while on the hill country bank after bank of green pussytails and lilac. Lambs’ tails smothered the ancient rubble and waved in the breeze. A breeze that was scented with a billion wildflowers, with the lovely top note, the sweetly fragrant native boronia.
Everyone celebrating on Murraree that day had prayed for rain. No one more so than the bride. Darcy wanted the miracle of the wildflowers for her wedding day. It was the most fortuitous omen. She wanted her sisters, Courtney and Casey to experience the short lived, but unforgettable glory. She wanted the wedding party to have their photos taken amid the desert splendour. It seemed like a fairy tale to Darcy her sisters were well on their way to experiencing the swelling joy, the utter bliss that came with marriage to the man one loved with all one’s heart.
Courtney wore Adam’s ring with pride. Casey more happy than she ever dreamed, wore Troy’s. Both were already planning their weddings. Courtney first. Casey next.
But first they have to recover from mine! cried Darcy’s inner voice in an explosion of joy.
The reception was held in great marquees in the grounds. A veritable feast! It was all just so perfect no one wanted it to end. But of course it had to end. There was always tomorrow. Darcy McIvor-Berenger was embarking on a new life. There were speeches, lots of speeches, some that brought laughter, some that brought a tear. More luminous tears when the time came for bride and groom to make their departure. Six weeks had been set aside for the honeymoon. Two on a very beautiful Great Barrier Reef island, a secluded paradise, that attracted people who sought privacy. The month after they were to fly to Paris, the most romantic city in the world. The city for lovers.
It was Casey, gloriously statuesque in violet who caught the bridal bouquet simply by raising her arm. She couldn’t see for a moment how gorgeous it was because her sapphire eyes were blurred with tears.
“You know what that means, don’t you?” Troy murmured in her ear, secretly thrilled they could be next.
“Yes!” She gulped for air. “I’m the tallest bridesmaid.”
And the most beautiful Troy thought, encircling her narrow waist and drawing her back into his warm embrace. His eyes locked momentarily with Adam’s. Adam was a nice guy. They got on well. Both young men exchanged happy smiles.
Courtney, like a porcelain figurine in her rose-pink satin dress stood just in front of Adam, as high as his heart. Her tears were melting into laughter at something he had said. The other bridesmaids in high spirits were laughing with guests, their slender arms aloft. One after the other the bridesmaids had all embraced Darcy. Now everyone was waving at the station vehicle that was taking bride and groom to the airstrip where Curt’s Beech Baron was waiting to fly them to Brisbane, the State capital, the first leg of their trip. Curt’s best man was running beside the vehicle but gradually he had to fall back, still waving.
Marian in yellow silk and an amazingly pretty hat looked every inch the proud mother of the bride. She stood a little distance away with her second husband, Peter, who had brought her into a calm harbour with a tranquillity she had never had.
There you are, Jock. See what you missed. Three beautiful daughters.
Darcy, Courtney, Casey. Father to each. Darcy who you caused to remain at your side in isolation. Courtney who you allowed to go with me, the wife you betrayed. Casey, child of a forbidden love, who lost her own tragic mother and was imprisoned in an orphanage.
Well Jock, they’ve all triumphed. Their lives have come together.
Marian had the unshakable certainty the bond was unbreakable.
They were all in their way, McIvor Women.
ISBN: 978-1-4268-8216-6
MARRIAGE AT MURRAREE
First North American Publication 2005.
Copyright © 2005 by Margaret Way, Pty., Ltd.
All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including xerography, photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, is forbidden without the written permission of the publisher, Harlequin Enterprises Limited, 225 Duncan Mill Road, Don Mills, Ontario, Canada M3B 3K9.
All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.
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*Koomera Crossing miniseries
†The McIvor Sisters
