Heart Of The Outback, Volume 2

by Margaret Way

  Sandra couldn’t fail to pick up the vibes. Anxiety for Chris’s job begin to gnaw at her. Not that Chris didn’t need his comeuppance given the reckless way he had handled the powerful machine. Showing off, of course, but they had taken quite a spill. “I’m fine,” she said, when she was feeling anything but fine.

  Daniel’s eyes flashed like coins in the sunlight. “Well you can thank your lucky stars for that,” he said crisply, turning his attention to the ashen face Chris who was doing his best not to faint from the pain. “How’s it going?”

  “Bloody awful,” Chris murmured in a hollow voice, aware of Daniel’s contained anger.

  “Why don’t we shed a tear?” Berne chimed in sarcastically.

  “Ah, shut up, Bernie.” Sandra gave her cousin a weary glance before addressing Daniel. “I’ve made him as comfortable as I can.”

  “Good.” Daniel had already noted with approval she had padded Chris’s lap with their hats and her rolled up cotton shirt to support the injured limb. Now she was left wearing a blue cotton singlet that showed off her delicate breasts.

  “It was the best I could do with what was at hand,” she offered apologetically, thinking it a miracle she had escaped more serious injury. Fortunately she had been thrown off onto the sand whereas Chris’s body balanced the other way had fallen on heavier ground with the bike half on top of him.

  “That’s fine.” Daniel spoke quietly though he felt a mad urge to let off steam. “We’ll have to get you to hospital, Chris,” he said. “What about the chest area, your ribs? Have you any difficulty breathing?”

  “No,” Chris gasped. “Look I’m sorry, Daniel.”

  “Forget that now.” Daniel rose to his feet. “You’ll need an X-ray to be sure there’s no other damage.” He looked at Berne. “Give me a hand to get him into the back seat, will you, Berne? We’ll try to limit as much movement to your arm as we can, Chris, but be prepared for some pain.”

  “I deserve it,” Chris mumbled, blinking several times to shake off the faintness. “I was pretty well showing off.”

  “I figured as much.” Daniel nodded curtly before turning back to Sandra. “Sit there until I come back for you, Sandra,” he said. “You’ve had a shock and there’s a gash above your elbow.”

  “It’s nothing,” she said, twisting her arm around to look at something she scarcely felt. “Just bleeding a bit.”

  “Using up a fair bit of your luck, aren’t you?” Berne asked her. “A bloke over on Gregory Downs was killed only the other day when he came off his bike. Broke his neck.”

  “Would you mind holding those stories for now, Berne,” Daniel said, his sculpted features drawn taut.

  “I doubt if she’d take any notice anyway,” Berne said. “And Chris here is just a big-time show-off.”

  It was hard to argue with that.

  Chris was airlifted to hospital where the fracture to his arm was confirmed.

  “Why did you do it?” Daniel asked Sandra who was slumped tiredly into a planter’s chair on the verandah. He picked up the cold beer Meg had brought him and downed it. It was a short while after sunset. The world was for a short time enveloped in a beautiful mauve mantle. The evening star was out. Soon it was joined by a million diamond pinpricks that quickly turned into blazing stars.

  “Maybe I have a problem with authority figures?” Sandra suggested, very much on the defensive.

  “You mean me.”

  “Yes, you, Daniel. I can see you’re angry with me for breaking the rules.”

  “I’m angrier with Chris,” he answered. “I told him not to take you on.”

  “Surely that’s a lot to ask?” There was a slight quiver in her voice.

  “No it isn’t,” Daniel said. “I’m in charge of the men, Sandra. I’m running this station for you until you’re ready to run it yourself. Maintaining authority is important. I told Chris not to offer you a ride because I’ve learned a lot about him since he’s been here. He’s careless, he’s cocky and I can’t trust him. It’s imperative to wear a helmet yet neither of you had one on. This is rough country, not a country lane. What if you’d sustained a head injury? What if he had? His mother was upset enough when I called her about his broken arm.”

  Sandra was mortified. “Okay we made a mistake, Daniel I’m sorry. We won’t do it again.”

  “No, you won’t,” he said with emphasis. “When Chris is well enough he’s going home. He’s fired.”

  Sandra sat forward, aghast. “Who do you think you are?”

  He drained his beer and set down the glass. “Sandra, I have to have my say out here unless you want to fire me!”

  “Is that an ultimatum?” Her blue eyes started to blaze. She hated falling out with Daniel.

  “It is,” he said without hesitation. “It’s for me to call the shots, Sandra. I’m responsible for the safety of the men and consider how many more times I feel responsible for your safety. I’m not objecting to your getting on the back of a motorbike with your helmet on. I’m objecting to your doing so with Chris Barrett who thinks he can do as he pleases because he’s only fooling around for a time before he goes home to work for his rich old man. I’m not at all sympathetic to the way he acted even if I’m sorry he broke his arm. And you didn’t answer my question?”

  “What was it?” She sighed, resting back again. How could she possibly fire Daniel. He was everything in the world to her.

  “Are you going to let me run things as I see fit?” he asked. “Next question?”

  “How do you feel?” His voice changed and a different light came into his eyes.

  “Like a bad, bad, girl. I don’t like it when you’re disappointed in me, Daniel.”

  “I don’t like it when you give me a fright,” he pointed out, remembering the force of his reactions. “The damned fool could have killed you and himself. Berne is quite right. There was a fatal accident on Gregory Downs. All the poor guy did was hit a pothole. His helmet wasn’t on properly … it rolled off. Life on the land has its hazards, Sandra. I don’t have to tell you that.”

  “As long as you still love me.” She pulled a face at him. “And if you say you don’t, you’re fired!”

  A look of amusement crossed his mouth. He allowed his eyes to rest on her as she lay back in the high backed peacock chair. One slender, silky fleshed arm was thrown lazily over the side, the injured arm he had cleaned and bandaged for her resting quietly in her lap. The glow from the exterior lamp mounted on the wall behind her, turned her hair to a glittering aureole. Her skin had the translucence of a South Sea peal. He could never tire of looking at her. Never!

  “That’s blackmail, wouldn’t you say?” he asked, managing to sound casual.

  “Whatever it takes, Daniel,” she answered.

  CHAPTER TEN

  LLOYD KINGSTON had to seek his niece’s permission to have either Daniel or Berne fly him to Perth, the capital of the adjoining vast State of Western Australia where he would be staying with a long-time friend, the well-known botanist, Professor Erik Steiner who was going to accompany him on his expedition. Daniel couldn’t afford the time, so it was decided Berne would fly the Beech Baron into Perth.

  “I wouldn’t mind staying on for a week,” Berne remarked to his cousin rather tentatively for him, “that’s if you can spare the Baron. I know you can spare me. I’ve always liked Perth. I’ve got quite a few friends there.”

  “You’ll have to check with Daniel, Berne,” Sandra said in a calm, helpful way. “If it’s okay with him it’s okay with me. A week mind. We’ve got the helicopter but one never knows when the plane might be needed.”

  “True,” Berne acknowledged. “Daniel’s got to be very important around here, hasn’t he?” he added, almost sadly.

  “Well he is running the place, Berne.” Sandra was careful to answer reasonably. “You don’t want the job.”

  “No way!” Berne threw up his hands as if to show that was way beyond his ambitions.

  “What would you like to do?” Sandra as
ked, sounding like she really wanted to know and perhaps help him.

  For once he saw her sincerity. “Something to do with aircraft,” he said. “I’m a good pilot. Ask Daniel. Maybe not as good as him but good all the same. I love flying. I’d love to captain a jumbo jet flying all around the world.”

  “Can’t you train for that?” she asked, surprised he wasn’t already doing it if that was his ambition. “Heavens, you’re young enough. You have the money to support yourself through your training. Seize the moment, Berne. Make enquiries in Perth. Jumbo jets aside, you could start your own charter business if you wanted to. Elsa could help you there. Surely she and her first husband were among the first to pioneer Outback charter flights?”

  “Yeah.” Berne thought for a minute. “She can fly, did you know? She’s let her licence slip for years now but she can fly a plane. In fact she knows a hell of a lot about aircraft. She’s very secretive, Elsa. She likes to act the dotty old lady. God knows why. I was trying to think the other day when it started. Dad reckons after Uncle Trevor was killed.”

  Sandra stared at him. “Of course I knew about the charter company, but she never flew the Cessna that I remember.”

  “Maybe not, but she could. There are a lot of things you don’t know, cousin. Why would you? You were only a kid when you left. Your sweet mother did everything she could to paint Dad in the worst possible light. You can’t imagine what it did to him, her claiming he sent his own brother to his death. If your mother could have had Dad convicted she would have. No wonder he hates her.”

  Sandra could see that would be the case. “I’m sorry about that, Berne,” she said, all sorts of emotions swirling around inside her. “In many ways you, me, Uncle Lloyd and Elsa too have had a tough time. Elsa must have gone into marriage with Grandad thinking she was going to get something out of it. I don’t mean material things, but whatever she craved, she didn’t get it. Looking back I’m sure it wasn’t all Grandad’s fault. I’ve never acknowledged that before but I can see now it might have been true. What happened to Elsa is a mystery. But I want you to know if you’ll let me I’ll be your friend.”

  Berne had a sudden overpowering need to believe her. “You really want that? We never got on. I was jealous of course. You got all the attention.”

  “Didn’t last long Berne,” she sighed. “We were both deprived kids. Neither of us got enough love or attention. We suffered in our own way. But there’s no need to be jealous of me any more. You can have your own life. A different life, one that suits you. Spend all your energies on becoming an airline pilot, as that’s what you want. Shake on it, reconciliation?”

  “Sure.” Berne gripped her outstretched hand, drawing a deep, shaky breath. “I guess it is better to have you onside, Sandra.”

  “You bet it is.” Sandra smiled.

  They were on their own! Sandra couldn’t believe her good fortune. Elsa and Meg were in the house of course, but essentially they were on their own. It was a sumptuous feeling and she was determined to take full advantage of it. During the day she joined Daniel as often as she wanted. The evenings were spent over a leisurely dinner, a short walk around the grounds afterwards, then they retired to the study where the intensive but stimulating learning sessions continued. There was so much to learn about the business and Sandra was anxious to make her contribution.

  Midweek something strange happened. Sandra awoke with the unnerving feeling someone was in or had just left her room. Not only that there was a faint rattling noise. She sat up quickly in the bed, her eyes trying to pierce the gloom. There was no moon to send its illuminating rays across the verandah and into her room. She desperately needed light.

  “Who’s there?” The words were on her lips before she even got to flick a switch.

  She stared around the room, her body trembling though she wasn’t cold. Not the slightest sign of disorder. She was a naturally tidy person. Everything was in its place. Just a bad moment she thought. Some lingering dream. She’d had a full day joining in on a muster for clean skins the men knew they had missed in dense scrub. She’d enjoyed the experience but in the end the heat and the physical exertion had gotten to her. Before bed she’d been forced to take a couple of painkillers for her headache. Elsa had rustled them up from her stockpile.

  Her accelerated heartbeats were slowing. She breathed deeply, punching her pillows a few times to get them into the right shape. A glance at her bedside clock told her it was 3:00 a.m., the witching hour. The temptation to get out of bed and go across the hallway to Daniel was so acute she groaned with the pain of it. She could tip toe across his room, rest her hand upon his sleeping shoulder.

  “Daniel, it’s me!”

  He’d awaken; recognise the scent of her, draw her wonderingly down onto the bed. He would gather her into him, his body against hers, telling her he wanted her urgently. His beautiful mouth would unerringly find hers. She would open it to him. His hand was on her breast. She’s holding on to him, clutching him. One of her arms is locked around him, the other is buried in the raven thickness of his hair. Delicious shudders are passing through her. She’s guiding his hand, wanting his fingers to slip inside her. God, she’s been thinking about it all the time, wicked girl!

  Only it wouldn’t happen like that at all. She sobered abruptly, ashamed of the illicit pleasure she was taking. Daniel would bundle her up and escort her back to her room. No seduction scenes for Daniel. If it were ever going to happen he wouldn’t let it happen in her own house. Daniel had huge problems with making love to her. She knew that. It was almost as if he were up against a serious taboo or he was heeding lots of signs tacked up everywhere saying, Keep Off. It is just stupid, she thought, when we both want it. She wasn’t such a fool she didn’t know how he watched her.

  Better check the door.

  She knew perfectly well it was locked. She had gotten into the habit of locking it even with Daniel in the house. If it looked like she didn’t trust her family, she didn’t care though these days her anxieties seemed absurd. Her mother’s perspective had been warped. She slipped out of bed and padded across the room, listening for noises in the house. Not that she would hear them. The old homestead had been built of stout timbers, mahogany and cedar.

  She was halfway across the spacious room when she paused, staring at the floor. There was something on the rug. Little beads. Sandra crouched down to pick them up. The beads were scattered, six in all. Jade beads. The fact someone really had been in her room hit her like a punch in the stomach. She turned on the chandelier flooding the bedroom with light. She found one more bead closer to the door. They had poured off a necklace. Sandra reached for the brass doorknob. The door was still locked. So how then had someone come to stand in the deep shadows watching her?

  She started to think of an intruder coming by way of the verandah. There was a white lattice door at the end of the wing, usually locked. The other day she’d found a tiny scrap of fabric impaled on it but hadn’t thought much of it. It could have come off one of Meg’s dresses or even one of the house girls’ Meg was training.

  When a dingo’s mournful howl carried on the desert air her nerve broke. Sandra unlocked her door and fled across the hallway to Daniel’s room, assuming it too would be locked but it wasn’t. She burst in. She couldn’t help it, not doing anything appalling like screaming but rushing towards the bed, calling his name.

  “Daniel, Daniel, wake up!”

  Something huge was in her way. Hell, a damned chair! She swore fiercely, holding a hand to her throbbing shin.

  “Daniel!”

  “Sandra, what the hell!” Daniel sprang to his feet, straight as a lance. He had thought that voice belonged in his dream. But no, she was there, in his bedroom swearing her head off.

  “Where’s the light?” she was yelling. “I don’t want to run into another great hulking chair. What’s it doing in the middle of the room anyway?”

  Immediately he switched on the bedside lamp seeing her standing in the centre of his room irradiat
ed. She was wearing the flimsiest little nightdress he could ever imagine. No concealing robe. Not even slippers on her feet. She was clutching something in her hand.

  “Sandra, what are you doing here?” he asked, all his senses instantly raised to the nth power. “Do you know what time it is?”

  “What’s time got to do with it, Daniel?” She looked at him with highly critical blue eyes. Not that there was anything to criticise. He could have posed for a Calvin Klein ad for boxer shorts for that’s all he was wearing. Brief navy boxer shorts with a white stripe down the side.

  “It’s the only few hours I get to sleep,” he explained.

  “When you promised me you’d be on call.” She moved to close the distance between them and he sprang back.

  “What’s the matter with you?” She eyed him sternly. “Anyone would think I was going to give you an electric shock.”

  “Allow me to put some clothes on would you, Sandra?” he asked tightly, circling a finger so she would turn away.

  “If you must.” She gritted her small teeth.

  “I must.” Swiftly he pulled on a pair of jeans and zipped them up. “I don’t mean to criticise your behaviour in any way—you are after all my boss—but is there something you want?” They faced one another again, Daniel’s dark polished skin gleaming in the light.

  He had a light V shaped mat of dark hair on his chest that disappeared into his low slung jeans.

  “Well it’s not sex if that’s what’s worrying you,” she snapped. “I mean would I do anything so crass as to jeopardize our friendship?” she added caustically. “No, the thing is, Daniel, someone was in my room just now.”

  “You’re kidding!” He was in something of a daze. This was happening, wasn’t it? She was in his bedroom in a sheer little nightie with her tousled cap of buttery curls and her eyes blazing like sapphires.

  “I found these beads on the floor. Look.”