Her Outback Protector

by Margaret Way

  Yes, yes! She craved those strong arms around her, those tanned hands holding her, his hard muscled chest against her cheek.

  “Catch me!” she invited, joyous as a child. She threw out her own arms launching her feather light body at him.

  But it wasn’t a child who landed in his arms. It was a woman who was growing more lovely, more sexually exciting by the day. Just holding her was dangerous. Her skin was perfection even in the strong sunlight. Her buttery curls swept up from her graceful neck. Her full tender lips were curved in a smile but it was her eyes that drew Daniel in. So deep and so sparkling a blue he wanted to drown in their lagoon-like depths.

  A woman’s beauty and sexual allure was a powerful weapon to render a man helpless. A weapon he couldn’t risk putting into her hands. There was no way he could reverse their station in life. She was the Kingston heiress; he was the overseer. He had to hold tight to his pride though he realised had they been on their own and stockmen weren’t around, all it would have taken was to tighten his hold on her and lower his head.

  Desire swept through Daniel’s body like a dark rushing river. He couldn’t step back from it. It was on him. All of his senses were astonishingly keen. Sight. Sound. Smell. Touch. They were far too close, their heads bent to one another, both of them seemingly fearing to speak. He could savour the fresh scent of her; feel the heat off her body. She was the very essence of femininity. He could almost taste her on his palate.

  For one long precious moment he allowed himself to be held in thrall. He couldn’t even think straight; just standing there, holding her, drenched in a yearning so powerful, so evocative of something just beyond his reach, it was causing him pain. He wondered with an unfamiliar surge of panic what more lay in store for him. What could happen from this point on? This was no fleeting attraction. It was something over which he was losing control. Yet getting her to fall in love with him wouldn’t be so difficult. He had enough experience to recognise that. He could see the little electric flame in her eyes. What burned her burned him.

  Only it wasn’t right. This was far more than a momentary indiscretion; it was as good as forbidden. She was quite alone. Her family wasn’t much use to her. She relied on him; she trusted him. Sometimes she seemed so terrifyingly young and innocent. He couldn’t possibly hurt her or betray that innocence which he knew instinctively she retained for all that predatory stepfather who deserved to be pummelled into the ground.

  Daniel made his decision. Falling in love was not only a powerful emotion, it could come as a body blow. One false move could spoil everything. They were friends. They could never be lovers. He stepped back abruptly, dropping his arms.

  “I do believe you’ve put on six or seven kilos?” He rallied sufficiently to make a joke.

  “I’ll be a butterball in no time,” she said, herself faring quite well in regaining her balance. As he turned away she called, “Do you think you could spare me a full hour tomorrow, Daniel?”

  “Sure, what for?” He stood in a characteristic pose with his two hands on his lean hips, long fingers pointing down.

  She took immense pleasure in his dynamic male aura. “I want to learn how to ride a motorbike,” she told him with feigned casualness.

  His expression was comical. She might just as well have said she wanted to learn to drive the bulldozer and start ripping up new tracks for the road trains. “Is that a good idea?” He couldn’t bear the idea of her coming off a bike, even a minor spill could break bones though he knew her look of fragility was deceptive. She was actually quite strong.

  “Heck, Daniel, we’re in the middle of nowhere,” she protested. “You can show me, can’t you or will I get Chris to show me?” She knew she was provoking him. Chris Barrett was a good-looking, full of himself, young jackeroo who was doing a year’s stint on the station before taking up a position in the family engineering firm in Brisbane. Hugely enjoying his gap year Chris flirted openly with her though the older stockmen were at pains to make clear to him he was crossing the line.

  “Just let’s forget Chris,” Daniel said dryly. “As a rider I don’t regard him very highly, let alone as a teacher. Your grandfather only took him on as a favour to his family. He’ll never make a cattleman not that he was ever meant to. Please don’t give him any encouragement. He’s impudent enough as it is.” But harmless, Daniel knew, otherwise he’d have been told to pack up his gear and leave.

  “I’ve forgotten him already,” Sandra said airily. “So I can count on an hour tomorrow?”

  “Okay,” he nodded briskly.

  “I’d like to be able to handle the dozer.” She kept a perfectly straight face as she said it.

  “Forget the dozer,” he said, firmly. “It’s by no means easy to operate, weighing in as it does at around thirty-eight tons. There’s a small tractor I’ll let you have a go on one of these days.”

  “Thank you, Daniel.” She gave him a radiant smile. “I’ve got a lot of learning in front of me. I want to be able to fly the Beech Baron and the helicopter in time.”

  His answer was serious which greatly pleased her. “Flying lessons can be arranged,” he said. “I thought you hated flying?”

  “So I do and why wouldn’t I?” she retorted. “But it was wonderful up there with you in the chopper before we crashed. The best way to get over my fears might well be to learn how to fly. Don’t you think?” She tipped her head to one side, staring at him, trying to understand this momentous thing that was happening between them.

  He nodded his agreement. “It’s the only way to get around. I know a very patient and competent teacher.”

  “You?” she asked hopefully.

  He shook his head. “Not me. I’d find that too nerve-racking.” He softened it with a smile. “This guy, Paddy Hyland runs the Hyland School of Aviation at the Alice. He’s very good, gently spoken and he has the patience of Job.”

  “So what are you saying, females need to be mollycoddled?”

  “Well gentleness makes women feel better, Sandra.”

  “Plus females need instructors with the patience of Job?”

  “Now you’re starting to get the hang of it.” That engaging dimple flickered in his cheek.

  “Have you failed to notice how smart I am, Daniel?”

  “Sandra, I haven’t failed to notice every last little thing about you,” he said with such a note in his voice it turned her insides out. “Have a nice day now!” He sketched a salute. “I’ll see you tonight.”

  Make that every night of our lives!

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  SANDRA had been going steadily through paperwork since around nine o’clock that morning. It was now eleven and Meg came to the door with a cup of coffee and a freshly baked apple and cinnamon muffin. She stopped for a while chatting—Meg was always cheerful—then went on her way. Sandra had insisted Meg get more help in running the house—it was so big. Elsa did nothing to lend a hand so far as Sandra could see—so Meg had taken two young aboriginal girls under her wing for training. Sandra often heard their infectious laughter issuing from the kitchen and around the house. It brightened up the atmosphere and she was glad of it.

  Elsa kept mostly to her suite of rooms—she had not shared a bedroom with Sandra’s grandfather for many years—or she took her long rambling walks. The family cemetery was one of her haunts though she hadn’t taken to laying flowering branches on her husband’s grave as Sandra often did at the grave of her father. In fact Sandra had given instructions for a number of advanced white bauhinias to be planted around the perimeter which was guarded by a tall wrought iron fence. Immensely hardy the bauhinias would lend shade and their loveliness to that desolate place. It had been kept in perfect order but an aura of melancholy hung over it. She finished what she was doing, put her signature to the crosses Daniel had marked for her, then decided on the spur of the moment to ride out to the family plot to check on the new plantings. The worst of the heat was over and the desert days sparkled.

  On her way she stopped to break
off several long branches of the fluffy flowered pink mulla-mulla, a desert ephemeral that threw a blushing veil over the landscape. Some of the branches stood as tall as herself as did the desert grevillea which was one of the most spectacular flowering trees of the Red Centre.

  Most of her friends from her student days thought the desert extremely arid, a terrifying, life threatening place, which of course it was under certain circumstances. What they didn’t appear to know or had never seen was the desert after the rains; a wonderland on such a scale it made the most beautiful of city gardens, even the botanical gardens, look pocket handkerchief-sized by comparison. What large country garden for that matter ran to the horizon? Where else were there carpets of white, yellow and pink everlastings covering fifty square miles? Her home, Moondai, was a world apart. She had already resolved to hold on to it. Her ancestors lay buried in the lava-red earth.

  When she reached the cemetery she slipped off her horse, a highly responsive mare, and tethered it to a branch of an old gum. The gum was almost a sculpture, gnarled and twisted in its endless struggle against the harshness of sun and wind. A short distance away was the iron fenced enclosure with its marble and granite headstones. No one to disturb you here, she thought a melancholy shiver running down her spine.

  A great flock of budgerigar, the phenomenon of the Inland, winged overhead drawing her eyes. They were flying in their curious V formation seeking out the nearest water which was maybe half a mile off at Jirra Jarra Creek, its banks graced by a magnificent corridor of red river gums. She took a few moments to watch the squadron of little birds flame across the sky, emerald green and gold, the colours of the nation, then she gathered the mass of pink flowers Outback people called “lamb’s tails” and strode off. Once inside the massive gate she noted with satisfaction the bauhinias had responded well to their new home. She had expected to see one or two wilting but they showed their toughness holding their silvery green foliage aloft. Their seasonal flowering was over but come September-October they should be out in all their shining white glory. She had always loved the bauhinias as a child; the pink, the white, the purple, cerise. The aboriginals believed they were spirit people. It was a good idea to have them encircle this place where the bones of so many generations of Kingstons lay.

  Carefully Sandra paid her respects to her grandfather and the grandmother, Catherine, she had never known, then moved on to the grave of her father, speaking aloud to him as she had as a child. His had been a bittersweet marriage—her mother had never settled in her desert home—but she had always understood her father had deeply loved her, his only child. The happiness and security of her childhood had been destroyed by his death. Her mother, even now, had not apologised for saying her husband’s own brother had had something to do with it. She stuck to her claim that Lloyd Kingston was evil but though Sandra kept her uncle under constant close observation she couldn’t see it. In fact it was starting to seem unthinkable. Perhaps her mother had wanted revenge for her brother-in-law’s harsh criticism of her own lifestyle? Whatever the reason her uncle should never have used her, a child, as a weapon in their war. That had been truly unforgivable even if at some stage he’d believed his claim she wasn’t a Kingston. It had only recently struck her, her uncle and her cousin had laboured all their lives for her grandfather’s love and approval without ever getting it. Small wonder it had caused such bitterness and driven a wedge between them and her. The great irony was the grandfather who had banished her had made her his heir. Should anything happen to her, her uncle Lloyd would inherit the entire estate.

  Daniel found her an hour later, sitting in solitude on a stone bench. He tethered his horse beside the mare, watching the animals acknowledge each other with companionable whinnies, before walking towards the enclosure.

  “Sandra,” he called gently.

  She lifted her sunny head that always reminded him of a lovely flower on a stalk, holding up a hand.

  How do I withstand her? he asked himself, unnerved at the speed with which she had gotten not only under his skin but right into the deepest cavern of his heart. Sandra Kingston was a dream he had been hankering after all his life. She was also, like a dream, out of reach.

  Close to, he could see the track of tears on her satin cheeks. He was deeply moved, thinking he would always hold that little picture of her sitting here, weeping gentle tears.

  “Hi, come sit beside me,” she invited, moving along the bench a little so he would have room.

  “I feel I’m intruding,” he commented, his eyes on her poignant profile.

  “No, you’re not.” She gave him a reassuring smile. “I was talking to Dad.”

  “Does he ever answer?” He yanked off his hat, relishing the cooling breeze on his head.

  “Sometimes.” She dashed the back of her hand over her eyes. “There’s so much I’m desperate to know, Daniel. Living with my unhappy family these past months I just can’t believe Uncle Lloyd had anything to do with Dad’s death.”

  “I’ve never believed it.” Daniel’s eyes rested on her floral offering, his own wounded heart contracting. “Apart from anything else, he just doesn’t have it in him to take any sort of violent action. As I see it, your mother was expelled from the family home in disgrace. She retaliated by accusing your uncle of a heinous crime. She would have been shattered at the time. Your uncle had poured endless scorn on her. There’s a limit to what people can take.”

  “So it was an accident?” she asked with a profound sigh.

  “That was the result of the inquiry.”

  “So I’ve spent more than half my life believing a terrible lie?” Her blue eyes sought his.

  “Some people use up all their life believing lies, Sandra.”

  “And our accident in the chopper? You had your suspicions, Daniel?” she reminded him. These moments they spent alone were becoming oddly intense as though it wasn’t permitted for them to become too intimate.

  He shrugged, not wanting to increase her sense of hidden threat. “It just seemed like one accident too many. I jumped to conclusions.”

  “You don’t sound too sure?” She watched his face, wanting to turn his chin a little towards her so she could stare into his eyes.

  “Money creates an environment of suspicion, Sandra. In your case a great deal of money.”

  I’ve got money for both of us, she cried out inside but couldn’t possibly say it aloud. Daniel was fiercely independent and proud.

  “Money and passions coexist,” he continued. “Anger, bitterness, resentment, shameful, violent thoughts.”

  “So it would serve my family’s ambitions if I didn’t get to celebrate my twenty-first birthday?” she asked bleakly.

  “Which is fast approaching.” He traced the perfect oval of her face with his eyes. She had put a little weight on her fragile frame. It was immensely becoming, the woman emerging clearly from the young girl. “I’ll have to start thinking of a present. By the way I have to fly to Darwin, this coming Friday. Joel Moreland wants to meet me.”

  That name beat against Sandra’s brain. “Joel Moreland, the man with the Midas touch? You’re not going to leave me for him, are you?” she asked, reduced to near panic.

  “Hey, he only wants to meet me, Sandra.” For a breathless second he almost pulled her into his arms to comfort her. “A man called Bill Morrissey set it up. He’s a member of the Northern Territory Administration.”

  “Yes, I know. I’ve read about him,” Sandra said, dismissing Morrissey. “So why does a man like Moreland want to meet you, Daniel, unless it’s to offer you a job?” Her voice was unsteady with emotion.

  “If he does, he does.” Daniel shook his head, struggling to retain his own role of employee, friend and mentor. “I have to think of my future, Sandra. Let’s face it by the time my year’s up, you could either decide to sell Moondai or find yourself engaged to one of the drove of guys who’ve been calling. Don’t for a moment think they haven’t got their eye on Moondai as well as the fair maiden.”


  “Thank you, Daniel,” she said crisply, tilting her delicately determined chin.

  “Sandra, I’ve no wish to offend you. As lovable as you undoubtedly are, your rich inheritance would only make them love you more.”

  “You’ve made your point,” she said acidly. “Or am I supposed to feel flattered they might want me at all?”

  His mobile mouth twisted. “I just want you to be fully aware of the disadvantages of being an heiress.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll have the lucky man vetted by you.”

  It distressed him just to hear her say it even in mockery. He locked his strong muscular arms behind his head. “What I started out to say was would you like to come along for the ride? I don’t expect to be more than a couple of hours over lunch. You could do some shopping; visit an art gallery. We could meet up later. Actually I’d like you to meet Moreland. It’s very handy to know a man like that. He could be a big help to you in the future.”

  “Well I’ll need it, won’t I with you planning to pack up and leave,” Sandra burst out, startled by her impulse to throw herself into his arms and beg him to stay.

  “What did you think was going to happen?” He turned on her, on the surface calm, underneath battling his own complicated needs and wants. Sandra Kingston coming into his life had exposed him to new and overwhelming emotions. Falling in love was the last thing he had seen coming.

  “Oh, I don’t know,” she said. “The two of us surviving that crash entrenched you in my mind as a friend and protector, not just Moondai’s overseer which you’re determined to be.”

  “Well that’s my job, Sandra,” he said tersely. “We’re both aware of that. We inhabit different worlds.”

  “We inhabit the same world!” She levelled him with an electric blue stare.

  “Don’t, Sandra,” he said, deliberately using his position as employee as a shield.

  Her cheeks flushed with anger. “Don’t what?”

  “Don’t go where you’re going.”