by Valerie Parv
Tom had heard later that his father had torn his cell apart, raging until he collapsed from exhaustion. Unfortunately, knowing he couldn’t change history didn’t stop Tom from wanting to.
He could, however, change the present.
“Where are we going?” Shara demanded. “This isn’t the way to Diamond Downs.”
“I’m taking you to the airport.”
“Excellent. We can get our hands on the tape incriminating Jamal.”
He shook his head. “Not we, me. After you tell me where you hid the tape, I’m putting you on a plane to Derby. I have friends there who’ll take care of you. I’ll contact you as soon as I have what you need.”
“I’m not a parcel to be consigned wherever you wish.”
At her imperious tone, he almost smiled. Once a princess, he thought. “You can’t stay here. That getup won’t fool anyone for long.”
“It fooled Max Horvath.”
“We can’t be sure. He could be on his way to report to Jamal right now.”
The thought shook her, Tom noticed. Good. He didn’t want to add to her difficulties, but sometimes shock tactics were the only way to get results.
“Are you so anxious to be rid of me?” she asked in a lowered tone.
“Good grief, no.” The answer was wrung from him before he could debate the wisdom of it. After what she’d learned she might not want to be around him, but it didn’t mean he felt the same way.
Despite his strict rule against getting emotionally involved, he wanted to keep her with him. All the more reason to put her on the next plane out.
“Stop the car now,” she insisted.
He slammed on the brake, almost slewing into a parked car. “What’s the matter?”
She said the first thing that came into her head. “I need clothes.”
“What?”
“If I’m leaving, I need a change of clothes. I can’t go anywhere dressed like this.”
His anger swelled. She could practically hear him thinking. He was trying to protect her, and she was worried about how she looked? But she couldn’t let him send her away while he put himself in danger to get the evidence against Jamal, and she couldn’t be much use from a safe haven, hundreds of miles from Halls Creek. Wanting to stay at Tom’s side had nothing to do with her reluctance to leave.
“You look good enough to me,” Tom said. He didn’t think she’d appreciate hearing exactly how good. The too-large man’s shirt only hinted at luscious curves, and the hat concealed her wonderful hair, leaving his imagination working overtime.
Her mouth remained taut. “But not for me. The things Judy lent me are still at the cottage.”
“I’ll send them to you.”
She didn’t miss a beat. “In the meantime, I’ll need toiletries and undergarments.”
“You’re going to get some interesting looks, buying women’s things dressed like that.”
“The alternative is for you to buy them for me.”
He lifted his hands. “Oh, no you don’t.”
Her chin came up. “Then I’m not going anywhere.”
Before he could summon a fresh argument, a battered utility pulled up alongside them. Judy leaned out the window. “That open space up ahead is a car park,” she said helpfully.
Tom shot his foster sister a wry look. He was well aware that they were still double parked. “Very funny,” he said to Judy, then had another idea. “Hey, you can do me a favor.”
Which was how both cars ended up pulling up outside a cottage on the edge of town ten minutes later. “This is Tracey Blair’s place,” Judy said when they got out. “The shop isn’t open yet, but wait until you see her hand-painted T-shirts and swimwear.”
Tom made an effort not to roll his eyes. “I can hardly wait.”
He’d gone along with this craziness because it was safer than taking Shara into one of the local shops. Or doing the deed himself. On the other hand, the princess didn’t look too pleased by Judy’s offer of help. “If I was a suspicious type, I’d think your sudden passion for new clothes is a stalling tactic,” he told Shara as they got out of the car.
Her face remained impassive. “What would I have to gain?”
“You’d remain in town longer. Well, it isn’t going to work. I’m putting you on a plane as soon as we’re done here.”
“We can’t be done here. You’re forgetting I have little available cash, and my credit cards can be too easily traced to use safely.”
“So you are stalling. Too late now. We’ll use my card, and don’t argue,” he said when she opened her mouth to do just that. “Your safety is what matters now.”
According to Judy, she’d known Tracey Blair for some time although the woman had only recently moved into town. This explained why, in a town where everyone knew everyone, he hadn’t met her yet. Judy performed the introductions and Tracey invited them into her residence, adjoining what would be her shop. They dodged the packing cases littering the hallway as they were shown into her living room. “Forgive the mess, I’m still getting organized,” Tracey said.
The woman was in her early sixties, Tom judged. Small and round and simply dressed in a cream dress with a narrow red belt at the waist, she had brunette hair peppered with white, and her deeply tanned face was creased with laughter lines. Her eyes, the green of a shady river, invited trust.
She didn’t so much as blink when Shara removed the ranger’s hat, revealing her long, dark hair. “Judy tells me you make and sell clothes,” the princess said.
Tracey inclined her head. “I do it to raise money for my mission.”
“You’re a missionary?” Tom hadn’t meant to blurt out the question but he was taken by surprise. As Judy had intended, he saw from her impish smile. Later for you, his expression warned her.
“I used to be,” Tracey said. “I was teaching at a mission in the desert until I was diagnosed with diabetes, and was advised to move into town to be closer to medical treatment.”
“Tracey and I met when I flew one of her colleagues to Derby,” Judy contributed. “Before we left, she showed me some of your handiwork. I told Shara, and she’d like to buy some of your work before she leaves.”
The woman smiled. “No problem. I don’t have much stock unpacked yet.” She sized Shara up with a practiced eye. “But I’m sure I can find some choices for you. What are you mainly looking for?”
“A couple of bikinis and some T-shirts, maybe a dress,” Judy volunteered when Shara hesitated. To Shara, she said in a low voice, “The bikinis can double as underwear for the time being.”
At any other time Tom would have made an excuse to escape the female business of buying clothes. He’d never understood why they couldn’t take the first garment that fit and did the job. But the chance to see Shara in the lovely things the older woman brought out was irresistible. He settled his long frame into an overstuffed armchair and waited.
When Shara came into the room wearing a dress like a long T-shirt, his breath was taken away. The knee-length dress was perfectly plain and virginal white, skimming her figure like a dream. Down the front Tracey had painted a spray of red and green kangaroo paw, the floral emblem of Western Australia.
The crimson flowers studded with black throats wound between Shara’s breasts, starting at her waist and ending at the neckline. They looked ripe enough to pick. The flowers, he reminded himself hastily, the flowers.
He tugged at the open neck of his shirt. Was it getting hot in here suddenly? After the camouflage of the man’s shirt, she seemed to be wearing nothing at all. It was no more or less than many women wore in the outback heat, but on Shara the effect was unsettling.
“You can wear that over the jeans,” Judy suggested.
Sacrilege to hide those incredible legs, he thought. To him, Shara looked fantastic just as she was.
“Good idea,” Shara agreed.
Judy turned back to Tracey. “If you have another in a different design, we’ll take that as well. And two of your bikinis in Sha
ra’s size.”
“Is that all right?” Shara asked, looking to Tom.
Judy was ahead of both of them. “Of course it’s all right. You need these. Before you go, I’ll lend you my credit card. That way Jamal won’t be able to track your movements,” she added, her expression daring Tom to disagree.
Shara’s eyes filled. “You’re all so kind. I won’t forget this.”
Kindness had little to do with it, Tom thought. He wanted her to have the dresses. Giving her the moon had a lot of appeal.
He was still dealing with the fact that she knew the worst secret he possessed, and still looked at him as if he had a right to walk the earth. The thought of her leaving made him feel hollow inside. He should be glad she was going, before she made him do something stupid, like forget his own rules of engagement. He couldn’t make himself believe it.
While he was busy with his thoughts, Shara had changed out of the dress and back into the shirt and jeans. The ghost of the bare-legged creature in the T-shirt dress hovered around her. He would give a lot to see her like that again—preferably without Judy and a missionary in tow.
Now Shara was picking books out of an open carton. “I see you have an interest in ancient civilizations, Miss Blair.”
“Call me Tracey, please. We don’t stand on ceremony in the Kimberley. I’ve been interested in cave art for most of my life. Some of those books were left at the mission by my predecessors.”
Shara flipped through pages. “I have some of these titles. I’ve made a study of the Uru people.”
Tracey’s eyebrows lifted. “You’re Shara Najran who published an article in Ancient Art?”
Color sprang to Shara’s face. “You read my article?”
“I saw some similarities between the art near the mission and the work attributed to the Uru. But I understood that the author was—”
“Not anxious to be recognized,” Tom cut in before Shara could admit anything. As a missionary, Tracey had to be trustworthy, but it paid to be cautious.
Tracey began to fold the T-shirt dresses. “After reading the article, I followed the author’s activities with some interest. On the Internet recently, there was something about an arranged marriage. But the bride had disappeared and there was concern for her well-being. I do hope she’s safe.”
“She’s safe enough for now,” Tom said shortly.
“If there’s anything I can do to help—with your studies—you can call on me,” Tracey offered, her tone making it clear she meant more than with Shara’s work. Then she brightened. “Now I’m living in town, I hope to get out to Diamond Downs again and compare some of the cave art there.”
Judy looked surprised. “You’ve visited the property before?”
Tracey smiled. “Many years ago, before I took up missionary work. Your grandfather had discovered some new cave systems on Diamond Downs, and your father was kind enough to show them to me. I didn’t know much about rock art then, but thinking back. I’m sure the work I saw was in the Uru style.”
A softening of Tracey’s tone when she talked about Judy’s father made Tom wonder if she’d been attracted to Des Logan. Tom pushed away the romantic notion. Shara was making him see hearts and flowers where, probably, none had existed.
“Would you be able to find those caves again?” he asked on a sudden impulse.
Tracey looked doubtful. “We’re talking forty or more years ago. But I remember noting some distinctive landmarks.” She lapsed into silence, thinking. “There was a rocky outcrop that looked like the heads of horses. At least I thought it did. And a grove of ancient trees, cycads, that was it. Your grandfather said they’d been growing in the area since the days of the dinosaurs.”
Shara looked to Tom. “Do you know this place?”
“It could fit several cave systems I’ve been to on Diamond Downs. They may have nothing to do with Great-grandfather Logan.”
“Some of those systems are deep and complex. It would be easy to lose your way in them,” Tracey agreed. “It’s sad that he was never found.”
Judy nodded. “One day we’ll find him and bring him home.”
Provided Horvath’s men didn’t find him first, Tom thought. Their reasons for looking were a lot less sentimental than Judy’s. The chances were high that Great-grandfather Logan’s final resting place was close to his legendary diamond find. Assuming it existed at all, and Tom was far from convinced. But as long as Horvath believed it, greed would drive him to search, and that could only mean trouble for Tom’s family.
“Are you interested in the caves for your research?” Tracey asked Shara.
The princess looked at Tom and he gave a slight shake of his head. “Something like that.”
“Then I’ll try to remember anything else that might be useful.”
She wrapped the dresses in tissue paper and gave them to Shara. “I hope everything works out for you, dear.”
Outside, Shara glared at Tom. “How could you lie to a missionary?”
“I didn’t lie to her.”
“You let her think you want to find those caves because of my research. But you think the diamonds are there, don’t you?”
“That’s not a lie. It’s a sin of omission. Besides, if she knows the real reason, she could tell Max Horvath.”
“She wouldn’t do such a thing, would she?”
His gaze became shuttered. “Not willingly.”
She looked horrified. “You make Horvath’s people seem capable of anything.”
“With what’s at stake, I wouldn’t put anything past him.”
Judy frowned at them both. “It didn’t take Tracey long to work out who Shara is. Doesn’t that put her in danger, too?”
“Not for long. Before I got dragged into this shopping expedition, I was about to put her on the first plane to Derby. Whatever else you need, you can buy there,” he said with a quelling look at the princess.
“I should go with you,” Judy suggested, sounding worried.
Shara shook her head. “You can’t leave your father. I’ll be okay.”
Judy looked unconvinced. “What will you do if Jamal follows you? From what you’ve told us, he isn’t a man to give up easily, and he has a lot at stake.”
“At least he’d be after me, not your family and friends. Enough people have taken risks on my account. I made a mistake staying in the Kimberley. I should have left as soon as I got away from Jamal.”
Tom went cold inside. “Because of what you found out today?”
Judy looked puzzled, but Shara gave an emphatic shake of her head. “Never think that, Tom. No, my mistake was remaining in a small place where I stand out. In a bigger place, I can lose myself more readily until I can convince my father that Jamal is a traitor.”
She would stand out wherever she went, Tom thought. He wasn’t convinced that learning about his past hadn’t changed her attitude toward him. It did for most people. But for now he was more worried about her. “What will you do if you never convince him?” he asked, emotion roughening his tone.
Judy gave him a speculative glance, but he wasn’t about to enlighten her. Some things were not open to sisterly teasing.
“Then I may have to make a new life for myself here, under a different identity. Having an Australian grandmother entitles me to remain here if it comes to that.”
Shara lifted herself on tiptoe and kissed Tom. She had intended to kiss his cheek but at the last second he turned his head and their lips met. Heat coiled through her. She battled down the rising desire. The regret.
She knew he thought she’d been turned off by what she’d learned about his parents. He expected people to judge him and find him wanting. Couldn’t he see how similar their situations were? Her father, the king, may not be violent, but he was so used to his word being law that he couldn’t conceive of Shara having a will of her own.
To her father, children were instruments of his will, just as Tom had been of his father’s. The only difference was that Tom’s father had used a real we
apon, whereas King Awad used the power of his position to control other people.
A shiver shook her. She was not going to look back, remember? The thought of losing herself in yet another foreign place was terrifying, and she hoped it wouldn’t come to that. But as long as she depended on others, she put them at risk from Jamal. It was time she stood on her own two feet.
She turned away from Tom and hugged Judy. “Thanks for introducing me to Tracey. Whenever I wear her handiwork, I’ll think of your generosity.”
Judy looked choked, and fumbled in her bag. “Here, take my cell phone so you can let me know you’re okay.”
By now Shara knew better than to argue with Judy. She tucked the compact phone into her satchel. “I’ll call as soon as I get to Derby,” she promised. “Give your father and Blake my love.” She had hoped to meet their other foster brothers, Cade and Ryan, but it was not to be.
Forward, not back, she told herself. “What time does the flight to Derby leave?” she asked Tom, proud that her voice shook only a little. She didn’t tell him she had no intention of contacting his friends once she was on her own.
He consulted his watch. “There’s a flight in an hour. We’d better make tracks.”
Back at the car, she stowed the T-shirt dresses in her satchel, intending to change after she landed at Derby. Her possessions were getting more meager by the day, she thought. Refusing to give in to self-pity, she squared her shoulders. “I’m ready.”
He said nothing as he drove the short distance to the airport. Like most outback centers, the airport was barely worthy of the name, but the main terminal building was blissfully cool when they entered. People were milling around, most seemingly belonging to a tour group that a harried man with a clipboard was trying to organize.
She smiled at the chaos. No matter what their size or location, airports felt the same the world over. She looked around for a ticket counter, preparing to give Judy’s credit card its first workout.
Beside her, she saw Tom’s expression change. “What is it?” she asked.
He pulled her so the dozen or so people in the tour group were between them and the ticket counter. “Max Horvath is over there talking to another man.”
