Deadly Intent

by Valerie Parv

“I’m admitting nothing. Not even giving in. Have you seen the clouds out there? We’re in for a doozy of a rainstorm.”

  She said a small prayer of thanks for inclement weather. “The wet season is fast approaching, in case you hadn’t noticed.”

  “I’d noticed. I’ve been hoping the serious rains hold off just a little longer.”

  “Nothing we can do about it either way,” she said with the outback person’s stoicism when it came to the weather. Drought or flood, you accepted what came without complaint.

  “Has Blake already gone home?” she asked now.

  Ryan nodded. “He left at first light to beat the rain and get back to his crocodiles. He knew you would understand.”

  She cupped her hands around her coffee mug. “I do. Lately, he’s given more time to Diamond Downs than we have a right to ask. You all have.”

  “No more than this place has given to us.”

  “To us all, me included.” As she drank her coffee, she wondered if a sense of obligation was behind Ryan’s single-minded drive to find the mine. He’d denied owing her father anything for changing the course of his life, but even Ryan had admitted he couldn’t have gone on as he was. He might not have welcomed Des’s intervention, but if it hadn’t been her father, someone else would have stepped in.

  She thought of her older foster brother Blake’s experience. Abandoned as a new baby, he’d gone through a string of un-loving homes before arriving at Diamond Downs with a huge chip on his shoulder. Judy’s parents had gradually whittled the chip down to a splinter. More recently, Jo Francis’s love had completed the process.

  Tom’s chip had been bigger still. Coming from a violent home, he’d seen his father kill his mother, breaking his son’s arm in the process. As an adult, Tom had avoided relationships, fearing he’d inherited his father’s violent streak. Meeting and falling in love with Shara Najran had finally shown him that blood didn’t have to will out.

  Cade’s motivation was still a mystery to her. He was devoted to the family, she knew. He’d kept in touch while traveling the world with his camera. But he didn’t readily share his feelings. Not surprising, since he’d been a street kid before her parents took him in, living rough in ways Judy hated to imagine. As an adult, he’d had adventures, traveling across Australia by camel train, for instance. But Cade was still an open book compared to Ryan.

  There was so much she didn’t know about him—what drove him, what he was passionate about. Yet last night, she’d been prepared to make love with him. Was she glad or relieved that he’d been the strong one? She wished she knew.

  She carried her breakfast things to the dishwasher. Ryan took them out of her hands and placed them in the machine. The briefest meeting of hands was enough to set her heart fluttering. “We should take a look at your photos of my great-grandfather’s journal,” she said to cover the moment. Keeping Ryan occupied was the one sure way to get him to rest, and she was anxious to read the pages.

  He nodded. “There’s another photo of Jack in the camera as well. I didn’t have time to examine in closely, so I’m hoping something in the photo might suggest more clues to the mine’s location.”

  She glanced at the chaotic state of the room. Since Des’s illness, she never seemed to be up-to-date with anything any more. This was one thing she could do. “Let’s go to the office. If you hook your camera up to the computer, we can both see what you’ve got.”

  He was working at the computer while she studied a printout of the journal pages, when she heard the rain start. What began as a patter of droplets on the iron roof soon became a thunderous roar as the rain sheeted down. Beyond the window, she could see the leaves of plants bounce and recoil from the impact.

  “According to the forecast, this won’t last beyond the morning,” Ryan informed her, lifting his voice over the noise.

  Even so, the downpour was the heaviest they’d seen so far this season, a foretaste of the monsoon rains that would soon set in every day until mid-March next year. Already, the red landscape was looking greener, for the early rains that had fallen after months of aridity.

  Judy was surprised to hear the sound of a car engine cutting through the steady thrumming of the rain. “Expecting someone?” The questioning glance she gave Ryan earned a shake of his head.

  “Could it be Horvath?” she asked, her pulse jumping.

  He stood up and went to the door. “He didn’t see you or Blake in the dark last night, so I don’t think he’ll have connected me to you as yet. Only one way we’ll find out.”

  If Horvath had been up to no good, he was hardly likely to drive boldly up to their front door, she reminded herself. She stood at Ryan’s shoulder as a mud-streaked minivan pulled up. “It’s Tracey Blair.”

  “She should be driving a more suitable vehicle for these conditions,” he said with a frown.

  “The rain probably hadn’t started when she set off from Halls Creek.” Tracey was lucky not to have become bogged down. Sudden heavy downpours like this morning’s rain could quickly make the roads muddy and impassable.

  She stepped out into the rain to hug her friend and introduce Tracey to Ryan. From his expression, Judy could see that Tracey had surprised him, but then he’d probably pictured the missionary as a starch-collared, iron-haired martinet. Many people did, and were taken aback to meet the small, round woman with short, curly brown hair peppered with white. Laugh lines radiated from eyes as green as a shady creek, giving the impression of someone in love with life.

  Now Tracey stepped onto the veranda and shook raindrops off her hair. “I’m sorry to land on you like this. We were on a picnic and by the time the rain set in, we were closer to you than town, so it seemed safer to come here.”

  “You’re welcome,” Judy said, “But who is we?”

  Tracey opened the van’s side door and Judy’s jaw dropped as six brown-skinned children between the ages of six and eight tumbled out of the van. They had the bright-eyed, long-limbed look of children who spent long hours out-of-doors. Seeing Judy and Ryan, they hung back, waiting for Tracey to take the lead.

  “Come on team, let’s get out of this rain,” Tracey ordered, gesturing toward the sheltering veranda. The children surged up the wooden steps and two of them immediately jumped onto a rocking chair, making it rock furiously and laughing in delight.

  “These are some of my former pupils from Lake Argyle,” Tracey explained. “I’m showing them around this area.”

  Judy nodded. “We met Heather Wilton when she was at the hospital with her son, Daniel. She told us what a nice thing you’re doing for the kids. I suggested getting in touch with Blake to arrange a tour of the crocodile farm.”

  “If they don’t quiet down, we’ll make it sooner rather than later, say at feeding time,” Tracey reproved, a smile taking any sting out of her threat.

  “Heather used to help out at the school where I taught before I moved down here,” she went on. “She had to take Daniel to the hospital for a checkup this morning so I decided to take the kids on a picnic, not realizing the rain would mean she couldn’t follow us as we’d planned. That’s Mike and Essie destroying your chair. This is Matilda, her brother John and their cousin, Lockie. What happened to Sunny? He was here a second ago.”

  Judy looked around. The smallest child, Sunny, had spotted Ryan. Immediately his eyes lit up and his smile broadened. He flung himself at the tall man, wrapping his arms around Ryan’s long legs. “Ryan!”

  For a second, Judy felt her world tilt on its axis until common sense came to her aid. The tall man and the dusky outback child were a study in contrasts. Her heart twisted as she watched him swing the little boy high into the air. He looked to be around six years old with huge dark eyes, stick-thin limbs, and hands and feet that looked as if he were still growing into them.

  “Look what the cat dragged in,” Ryan said as the child laughed delightedly.

  From his high vantage point, the little boy giggled. “I came with Miss Tracey. She doesn’t have a cat.”r />
  “Funny, I could swear I heard a cat just seconds before you arrived.”

  “There’s no cat. You’re silly,” the child reproved.

  Set on his feet, the child planted himself at Ryan’s side, the small brown hand curled into the man’s larger one. The sight caused a clutching sensation around Judy’s womb. This was exactly how she could imagine Ryan behaving toward a real son. The little girl, Matilda, moved quietly to his other side and clasped his hand, completing the heartwarming picture.

  Judy looked away, caught off guard by the strength of her own emotions. He’d make a good father, she realized, and found she didn’t like thinking of him in a relationship that would lead to this scenario.

  Dark fury rose inside her. She hadn’t liked Ryan talking about a future she didn’t want. Yet thinking of him with someone else set off warning flares inside her. What in blazes would satisfy her? To have him as an occasional lover, leaving her free to live her life her way? Instinctively, she knew Ryan would never settle for so little; to her surprise, the idea appealed less to her than she expected.

  Tracey was watching Ryan and the children with interest. “Hello, Ryan, I didn’t expect to run into you here.”

  “Oh, you never know where I’ll turn up next,” he said. To Judy, he added, “I sponsor Sunny’s education through a charity group based in Broome. We don’t see each other nearly often enough, do we, champ?”

  The little boy giggled. “You know it’s my birthday next month?”

  “Have I ever forgotten?”

  “Last year, I got a big truck,” Sunny told Judy solemnly. “The back tipped up and you could put sand in it, like the ones at Lake Argyle.”

  The rain was blowing onto the veranda. “Why don’t we go inside for milk and cookies,” Judy suggested.

  The magic words had the desired effect. The children surged into the main room, pulling Ryan with them. Judy and Tracey followed more sedately. “I’m sorry I couldn’t call ahead and warn you,” Tracey said. “My phone battery died right after I called Heather and explained where we were heading. But at least she knows where we are. I was afraid we’d get stuck somewhere between here and Halls Creek, so I kept driving.”

  “You did the right thing. If the rain doesn’t let up, you can all sleep in the bunkhouse until it’s safe to head back.”

  “Bless you. I’ll telephone Heather later, and tell her we’re staying the night. She’s had a rough time with Daniel being ill, so she’ll probably welcome a break.”

  “And we’re happy to have you,” Judy assured her. “There’s not much we can do outside in this weather anyway. Ryan and I were catching up on some work in the office.”

  Tracey’s gaze went to the man handing out plastic tumblers of milk and cookies to the excited children. “I met Tom and Blake in town, and Cade last night over dinner at the crocodile park. I had no idea Ryan was one of your foster brothers.”

  “Ryan isn’t related to us,” Judy said, not sure why she felt the need to clarify the point. “He only stayed with us a short time, then went his own way.” She was aware of Tracey giving her a measuring look, but the other woman made no comment.

  “Luckily, the barbecue is under cover so we can fire that up for dinner,” Judy went on in a rush.

  Tracey laughed. “I don’t know any child who doesn’t like sausages. This will be one of the highlights of their holiday.”

  After Ryan organized the children’s snacks, he put on the player a DVD of cartoons that Tracey had in her vehicle. They settled in a semicircle in front of the television, their laughter soon echoing around the room.

  “That ought to keep them happy for a while,” he said as he rejoined Judy and Tracey.

  Judy put a mug of coffee in front of him and another in front of Tracey, setting milk and sugar within arm’s reach. “Why do I get the feeling you’re an old hand at this? And how did you meet Sunny in the first place?”

  Stirring sugar into his coffee, he looked a little sheepish. “I was working at Heather and Jeff’s place where Sunny’s mother is the cook. He got a kick out of hanging around me, watching me work and helping with the simple jobs I gave him. When I heard about the sponsorship deal on the radio, I asked if I could sponsor him. They told me they don’t normally allow you to choose where your money goes, but by then we’d bonded, so they made an exception. After I moved on from that job, I kept in touch with my little mate, although I don’t get to see him as often as I’d like to.”

  The affection in his voice was unmistakable. “And you help out a few of his cousins, too, I’ll bet,” Judy guessed.

  “A lot of kids need the help,” he said, answering her question even as he dodged it. “Your dad sets a good example.”

  And his own had set the opposite, she concluded. Working out that Ryan saw a lot of himself in the needy children wasn’t difficult. He seemed determined to give them a better start than he’d had. And from the closeness she’d witnessed between him and Sunny, he was doing a good job.

  “You’re a good man, Ryan,” Tracey said. “We could use more people like you.”

  “What about you?” he asked, conspicuously changing the subject. “How do you like living in Halls Creek?”

  “I miss the quiet and the grandeur of the bush,” she admitted. “Moving wasn’t my choice. But after I developed diabetes, I was advised to live closer to medical help. I daresay the reasons will be made clear to me in time.”

  Her simple faith touched Judy. “My father wouldn’t be one of those reasons?” she asked, letting her tone show she wouldn’t mind.

  The older woman actually blushed and directed her gaze to her coffee cup. “Des is another good man. We got to know each other quite well while I was in and out of the hospital getting my diabetes under control and he was there having treatment for his heart. I’d like to pray that a donor heart becomes available to him soon, but…”

  “But that means hoping someone else will lose their life,” Ryan put in. “Exactly what Des says himself.”

  “I’ve made up my mind to let go of the question for now,” Tracey explained. “He is in good hands.”

  Judy was sure her friend didn’t mean medically and felt encouraged. With someone like Tracey praying for him, how could her father help but be all right?

  With six boisterous children confined to the house by the rain, the rest of the day provided little more time for reflection. Keeping them occupied with games and a story after lunch took the ingenuity of the three adults combined. They sighed with relief when the children settled down to watch another DVD in the afternoon.

  “Typical,” Judy groused, looking out the front door at the steaming landscape. “They’re quiet at last, and the rain finally decides to let up.”

  “Perhaps we can drive back to town today after all,” Tracey speculated.

  The idea was vetoed by Cade, who arrived in his Jeep as they watched. The heavy vehicle was mud-caked, and he admitted to almost getting bogged down on the way back from Halls Creek. Tracey’s minivan would never make it until the road dried out more, Cade assured them.

  After greeting Tracey, Cade took Judy aside. “Blake told me what happened to Ryan last night. We kept it from Des,” he added in response to her look of alarm. “We didn’t want the two of you here alone in case Horvath decides to cause more trouble. Seeing the houseful you’ve got, I’m glad I took the risk.”

  She hugged him. “You shouldn’t have worried, but I’m glad you did. Ryan is keeping his pain to himself, but he’s in no shape to handle any more battles for a while.”

  “Let’s hope it won’t come to that.” Cade shot a glance at the churned-up road leading to the homestead, as if expecting Horvath and his men to show up at any moment. “I don’t know why, but I have a bad feeling about tonight.”

  She gave an involuntary shudder. “We’re arranging a barbecue for Tracey and the kids, so I hope to goodness your feeling turns out to be wrong.”

  His mouth tightened into a grim line. “We’ll soon find
out, won’t we?”

  Chapter 9

  Mountains of cumulus cloud banked up from the east and thunder rolled in the distance, but the rain didn’t return that evening, although the humidity was high enough for Judy to wish the heavens would open up. The grassed area in front of the homestead quickly dried out to allow them to dine outside. Under Tracey’s direction, the children pitched in and helped set up folding tables and chairs, while Judy made bowls of salad to accompany the barbecue Cade, having appointed himself chef, was getting ready.

  Like all the Kimberley cattle stations, they relied on meat raised on their own land and stored in a commercial-sized freezer. Judy had been making sausages since she was old enough to operate the small machine that stuffed the bought skins with delicious mixtures of meat and herbs. Now she took strings of the homemade sausages out of the freezer ready for Cade to cook. The pantry held several weeks’ supply of groceries, so there was no shortage of food.

  Ryan and little Sunny, who’d barely left his mentor’s side during the preparations, disappeared into the office together.

  “Wonder what they’re up to,” Judy said as she placed a basket of bread on a serving table.

  Tracey, her hands filled with jugs of ice water, smiled. “Secret men’s business, no doubt. They’ll let us in on the whatever it is when they’re ready.”

  Judy unfolded an umbrella-like gauze cover and placed it over the bread to deter the flies who were already showing an interest. “Sunny follows him around like a puppy.”

  “I knew Ryan was involved in the sponsorship scheme. But until we came here and Sunny spotted Ryan, I had no idea he was involved with your family. Most of the people who support these schemes are women. We’re grateful for their help, of course, but the program could use a lot more men like Ryan.”

  “As role models, you mean?”

  “Yes. The kids are surrounded by males at the cattle stations, of course, but so many are hard-drinking, tough-talking stockmen that they’re hardly a helpful influence.”

  “Ryan is a stockman,” she said, mentally adding when he isn’t undercover on an assignment. No reason for Tracey to know that he was more than he seemed. She seemed happy enough with his cover persona, Judy noted.