by Margaret Way
‘He’s very tough on you in his way, isn’t he? Why is that?’ He studied her, a beautiful, refined young woman any father would be proud of. He was quite unable to understand it.
Carrie suddenly picked up her glass and clinked it against his in a funny little gesture. ‘Our personalities are incompatible?’ she suggested, with a brittle little laugh. ‘There’s something about me he doesn’t like? I suppose it can happen.’
‘Leave home, Caroline,’ he advised. ‘It’s time you did.’
‘Victory Downs isn’t going to be mine, anyway,’ she sighed. She didn’t want the rest of her drink but she had it anyway.
‘How’s that?’ A vertical line appeared between his strongly marked brows. ‘You’re an only child. Who else can take over?’
‘My cousin, Alex, will inherit. He’s still a student.’
‘Good God!’ Clay found himself appalled. ‘So what’s your little lot?’
‘Did you think I was an heiress?’ she asked, outright challenge glimmering in her eyes. ‘Did you think you just could land an heiress? You didn’t put that in the ad.’
‘Caroline, I couldn’t care less if you were penniless,’ he said a little curtly. ‘It’s you, the woman, I’m interested in.’
‘That’s what they all say.’ He was quite right. She was just that tiny bit intoxicated. ‘I’ll be “well looked after” I’ve been told. Besides, I was to marry Bradley Harper’s heir. That was considered a compelling reason for matrimony.’
‘How very mercenary,’ he said with contempt.
‘Only I’m not marrying anyone,’ she said.
They took the lift to Carrie’s floor walking down the quiet, empty corridor to her room. There they paused while Carrie hunted up her keycard.
‘You seem to be taking an awfully long time,’ he said, an attractive wry note in his voice.
‘Damn, where is it?’ She knew she had it. ‘I know!’ She sank her hand into the deep hidden pocket in her skirt.
‘Here, give it to me.’ He took the keycard from her, opening up the door. ‘Good night, Caroline,’ he said.
‘Goodness, you sound as if you have a very pressing engagement elsewhere. Are you that anxious to get rid of me!’ She pushed past him and entered the comfortably furnished room, switching on more lights. Am I about to make a fool of myself? she thought. Why not? He already knows I am.
‘Come here,’ he said gently, standing just inside the door.
She spun about. ‘There’s nothing going to happen, Clay.’
‘What makes you suppose there was?’ His blue eyes gave off sparks.
‘The way you’re looking at me for one thing,’ she said, trying to keep her emotional equilibrium and losing the battle. ‘I’m a virgin. Did I mention that? It’s a joke these days.’
He stayed where he was. He wasn’t smiling. ‘Why wouldn’t a woman keep herself for the man she truly loves?’
‘For fear she mightn’t find him and life is flying by. I’m sorry, Clay. I’m trying to tell you I’m not a good judge.’
‘You’re tired,’ he said. ‘Exhausted.’
‘We both are. Do you want to sleep with me in this bed?’
He didn’t say anything for a moment. He just wanted to look at her. ‘I don’t think I’d be doing much sleeping,’ he said, finally. ‘I told you, Caroline. There’s no pressure.’
‘That’s something else!’ she said raggedly, doing a half spin. ‘Scott was ready to wait. Next thing he’s trying to rape me.’
Clay remembered that night very clearly; the way he had felt. ‘Don’t remind me! That would never happen to any woman with me, Caroline. You know that. Come on now, you’re tired and upset. You’ll get over all this. It’s been pretty full on, one thing after another.’
‘And another to face,’ she said, leaning wearily against an armchair.
‘I’m driving you back to Victory Downs tomorrow,’ he told her firmly. ‘We can get your 4WD picked up from the town and delivered to the station. I don’t want you pushing on home.’
She wasn’t looking forward to it, either. ‘There’d be fireworks, Clay,’ she warned.
He wasn’t worried for himself. ‘Your father’s temper wouldn’t bother me any more than Brad Harper’s. I didn’t think your father gave way to emotion anyway, he looks so darn buttoned up.’
For a moment Carrie looked quite lost. ‘I should have said iceworks, not fireworks. Dad freezes you out.’
‘I’m driving you home, Carrie,’ Clay repeated. ‘Right to your door. Now come here.’
Adrenaline shot into her bloodstream. All her senses lifted and began to soar. ‘What for?’
‘I want to kiss you,’ he said simply, not taking his eyes off her. ‘I want to take your kiss with me to bed.’
What else could she do? Every cell in her body demanded it. She walked towards him as if she couldn’t keep away.
His arms were around her, his hand at the back of her neck, taking the weight off her head. He was so much taller he was lifting her, enveloping her. He bore her weight so easily her feet were clear of the ground.
‘Caroline!’ he breathed, over her head.
Then his marvellous mouth came down on hers. She was so hungry, greedy to keep it there. What had happened to that absent part of her? The part Scott had never been able to reach? Did she only come alive through this man? The pleasure he gave her was so sensual, so limb melting, she thought as she collapsed against him. At any rate she relaxed into a posture of utter submission waiting for him to open her up like a flower.
All her defences were tumbling. She gathered nectar from his open mouth, kissing and nibbling at those cleanly defined, upraised edges as she went.
They were breathing as one.
It was an agony and an ecstasy to kiss and be kissed like this. The one counter-balancing the other. Agony. Ecstasy. But she wanted more. Much more. She realised now she was desperately in need of love. She wanted everything a man and a woman in love did together. It was impossible to resist longing such as this. Such was the nature of passion…
Next thing she knew she was lying on the bed, her eyelids closed tight. She was listening to the rapid-fire beating of her heart. It seemed to be shaking her entire being. She lifted a hand to contain her wild heart, slowly opening her eyes.
Only to discover Clay was gone.
CHAPTER SEVEN
CLAY’S big 4WD hummed along the highway, its shadow racing after them. A heat haze rose off the never ending black ribbon of road, shimmering in the air in front of the bonnet. The Great Dividing Range that stretched five thousand kilometres from the tropical tip of Cape York in Far North Queensland to the magnificent stone ramparts of the Grampian Ranges in Victoria, loomed to their left, a formidable barrier between the lush eastern seaboard and the vast Outback. The dry, dry, land that had taken the lives of early explorers and many an adventurer without trace. Today the Range looked spectacular, Clay thought, its rugged slopes hyacinth-blue in the blazing heat. It was another brilliantly fine day and the huge Spinifex plains were beginning to reveal themselves in wild golds and greens with broad domed, stunted trees dotted here and there over the countryside.
They had long since left the beautiful Darling Downs region with its wonderfully fertile agricultural land, travelling through the fruit and wine zones, the golden Granite Belt and the cotton fields with their high yielding quality crop, out past the gas and oil regions into the real Outback and the sheep and cattle stations.
‘Okay?’ Clay asked, glancing down at the blond head stirring on his shoulder.
‘Oh, I’m sorry!’ Carrie straightened abruptly. ‘I must have dozed off.’
‘You did,’ he smiled. ‘That’s okay. I liked it.’
‘I didn’t get much sleep last night,’ she explained, putting a hand to the thick plait at her nape. That was an understatement. Apart from an initial hour or two she hadn’t slept at all she was so overwrought.
‘You’re worrying about what’s going to happen when yo
u arrive home?’
Carrie nodded.
‘The authoritarian father,’ Clay sighed. ‘I’ll make sure I’m not like that. I hate to ask but doesn’t your mother ever take your side?’
‘Of course she does,’ Carrie protested. ‘She’s a wonderful mother.’
‘She makes up for your father’s distant kind of parenting?’
‘I’ve told you too much, Clay,’ she said.
‘You have to tell someone,’ he said. ‘Besides, I worked it out for myself.’
‘Why did you go off and leave me?’ she asked. ‘Last night, why did you leave me?’
‘Right now, Caroline, you’re immensely vulnerable,’ he said quietly. ‘You have an ex-fiancé who betrayed you— He is ex, by the way?’ He gave her a sidelong glance.
‘I told him this morning,’ she said. ‘I know I said I wasn’t going to until he was out of hospital, but I changed my mind after the events of last night. It was only the briefest visit to convince myself he was physically, at least, on the mend. And he is.’
‘What did he say?’
‘Nothing. He expected it. Why wouldn’t he?’ she said without bitterness.
‘Just checking,’ Clay replied. ‘I know what a tender heart you have. I left you, Caroline, because I just can’t bear to do anything to hurt you. By the same token it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done.’
‘I was beginning to think I was frigid,’ she said.
He laughed aloud. ‘Well, you got that wrong. You’re perfect to make love to.’
‘Maybe I never knew what making love meant,’ she said.
Just under an hour later they were driving over a grid beneath the huge sign supported by two massive posts that marked the entrance to the station. Victory Downs.
Carrie shifted uneasily in the passenger seat. She hated confrontations but she knew there was one coming up. As for Clay who drove so calmly and efficiently beside her, it was as he said—he was well able to take care of himself.
They swept along the wide driveway lined by magnificent she-oaks. Flocks of woolly white sheep were off in the distance. Kangaroos hopped leisurely towards the silver line of the creek. An eagle soared overhead. Station horses grazed in the home paddocks.
Home. But for how much longer? She didn’t understand why her father was leaving the station to her cousin Alex and she never would. It almost seemed as if he were telling her to get married or get thrown out! Her father’s delight in her engagement seemed to perfectly express his feelings.
After about a mile they came on the homestead.
The dominating double storeyed central section, the original house, was Georgian in style but single storey wings had been added on later. The whole effect was of order and serenity. The paint on the decorative shutters gleamed as it did on the white ornamental wrought iron. The homestead and the surrounding lawns and gardens, irrigated by bore water, were beautifully maintained—in sharp contrast to the tremendous neglect the once ‘Princess of the Western Plains’ Jimboorie House had suffered. Carrie loved her home, but in her eyes it lacked the sheer sweep and romance of Jimboorie.
‘Here we go!’ Clay said, laconically, bringing his 4WD to a halt in the shade of a spreading bauhinia.
Around the side of the east wing two splendid Scotch collies came flying, their long silky near orange coats streaming in the wind.
‘Here, boys!’ Carrie called, patting her knees.
Clay’s handsome face lit up. ‘What beautiful creatures!’
‘Prince and Blaze,’ Carrie told him proudly. ‘You won’t get better than them. They’re working dogs. They’ll be pleased to meet you.’
‘I’ll be pleased to meet them.’
Excitedly the dogs welcomed Carrie home, then turned to sniffing the newcomer who bent to scratch one then the other behind the ear. ‘Shake hands.’ Clay gave the order to the older dog, Prince.
‘He mightn’t do it. He doesn’t know you—’ Carrie broke off laughing, as Prince obediently presented Clay with a paw.
‘Good boy!’
Carrie looked past Clay to see her mother coming down the verandah steps towards them. ‘You’re home, darling,’ she called, her face wearing a welcoming smile. ‘Good trip? Clay, how nice to see you again.’ Smilingly Alicia put out her hand to this stunning young man who so recently had entered their lives like a comet.
‘How are you, Mrs McNevin?’ Clay responded, shaking hands and looking down into Alicia’s beautiful face, that scarcely bore a trace of ageing. Caroline was destined to look like this in maturity, he thought. He had been introduced to the McNevins briefly after he had won the Cup. Alicia had been gracious to him then, but he hadn’t expected the friendly greeting he was getting now.
‘I’m well, thank you, Clay,’ Alicia said. ‘I’m sure you’d like to come in and have something to eat after that long trip.’
Carrie’s eyes sought her mother’s. ‘Where’s Dad?’ she asked carefully.
Alicia was totally relaxed. ‘He and Harry Tennant have flown off to Longreach for a meeting. Your father won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon.’ In other words, the all clear. ‘Come into the house,’ she invited. ‘It’s hot standing in the sun. So how did you find Scott?’ she asked Carrie as they walked towards the homestead, the dogs trotting quietly by their side.
‘It’s all very upsetting, Mamma,’ Carrie said. ‘Didn’t Thea Cunningham get in touch with you?’
Alicia smiled tersely. ‘She certainly did. I’m not sure now if I didn’t tell her off, poor woman. She idolises that boy. In a way she’s ruined him. But enough of that. Come in and freshen up then we can sit and relax.’
Clay stayed on for an hour of conversation that skirted any difficult issues. Afterwards both women saw him off.
Alicia slipped an arm around her daughter’s waist as they walked back to the house. ‘Do you know, I can’t remember when I met such a charming young man. And so well spoken. I like him very, very much.’
‘You liked Scott, remember?’ Carrie pointed out with a touch of irony.
Alicia’s beautiful eyes clouded. ‘I had no idea he was so full of deceit.’
‘You haven’t heard the half of it, Mamma,’ Carrie said.
‘Good God there’s not more?’ Alicia asked in dismay. ‘Thea couldn’t wait to recount your meeting outside the restaurant in Toowoomba. She said Clay threatened to knock Bradley down. I must confess that shocked me though sometimes I think Brad Harper needs flattening.’
‘I didn’t think Mrs Harper told lies,’ Carrie said, angrily. ‘It was Mr Harper who threw a punch at Clay. He blocked it and told Mr Harper not to try it again. That was it!’
‘She seemed to think you were to blame. You’d let them all down.’
They had reached the verandah. Now both sank into planter’s chairs. Carrie looked straight ahead. ‘Natasha is carrying Scott’s child,’ she said baldly.
Alicia who had eased back into her chair sat bolt upright. ‘What are you saying?’ She stared at Carrie, a dazed look on her face.
‘Natasha’s pregnant. Believe it,’ Carrie repeated harshly.
A bewildered look passed across Alicia’s face. ‘What sort of an abject low life is he?’ she demanded to know.
Carrie sighed deeply. ‘I daresay Natasha contrived it. Needless to say with his help. She’s mad about him.’
‘Dear God!’ Alicia shook her head slowly from side to side. ‘I take it his parents don’t know?’
‘I wouldn’t like to be Scott when he tells them.’ Carrie bit on her lip hard. ‘Mr Harper would be a pretty violent sort of man once he gets going. He loves Scott, but he expects him to toe the line. Scott, by the way, told Natasha to have an abortion.’
‘That was his solution, was it?’ Alicia asked in utter disgust. ‘Get rid of his own child? God, haven’t you been lucky? And haven’t your father and I been colossally stupid? You’re well out of it.’
‘You think I don’t know that?’ Carrie said. ‘Dad thought Scott was perfect for
me. He’ll be shocked. Does he know Clay was with me in Toowoomba?’
‘No, and we won’t tell him,’ Alicia said.
‘Is that a good idea?’
‘It’s the best one I can think of at the moment.’
‘I should probably tell the truth. Dad runs too much of my life.’
‘He means well, Carrie,’ her mother said. ‘He’ll be really upset about the whole sorry business. But it’s Scott who’s the villain here, not Clay. Your father has to get over his misconceptions.’
Carrie considered. ‘He’s too rigid in his ways. I don’t think he’s ever going to approve of Clay. He’s set his mind against him.’
‘Not so different to how he treated Clay’s father,’ Alicia said in a tight voice. ‘But what the heck! You’re a woman now. You can do as you please.’
‘Maybe the day will come when you can, too, Mamma,’ Carrie said meaningfully and closed her fingers around her mother’s.
When Carrie returned to the homestead at noon for a bite of lunch—she had teamed up with the vet doing his morning rounds—her father had returned home. She could hear his voice upraised in anger as she mounted the front steps. Her father rarely raised his voice. It simply wasn’t necessary. Arguments with his wife were exceedingly rare, but they were having one humdinger of an argument now.
Carrie hesitated, uncertain whether to go back outside or find her way up to her bedroom through a side door.
‘How could he do this? How could he spoil everything,’ Bruce McNevin was asking in a rage. ‘Here you are able to wind any man—any man at all—around your little finger and Carrie can’t hold onto her own fiancé. I thought she’d be married in December. I thought we’d have our lives to ourselves.’
‘What a dreadful thing to say, Bruce,’ Carrie heard her mother reply, her voice full of pain.
‘All right I’m sorry. I’ve done my best, Alicia. God knows I’ve tried. But she’s not mine. How can you expect me to love her? I’ve tried all these years to love her but I can’t. She’s not my blood. Why do you think I’ve left the station to young Alex. He at least, is.’
