Cattle Baron: Nanny Needed

by Margaret Way

  “Partners in error, you might say. Hindsight has made me think myself a fool.”

  “And that wouldn’t come easily to you. Never mind. Next time we have to lift our standards,” she told him briskly.

  “Next time?” His vibrant voice positively rasped.

  “No need to yell. You’re not going to throw me out, are you? I wouldn’t like to have to set out on foot.”

  “You wouldn’t get far,” he said, laughing.

  “So you say. Don’t underrate me.”

  “Never!” As a matter of fact, he was half convinced she’d make it.

  “I’ve been in dangerous spots before. Once in Thailand—” She broke off, stunned by the sight that swam into her line of vision. “What in the blue blazes is that? A komodo dragon?” A gigantic lizard, taller than a tall man, was standing on its hind legs and tail, calmly surveying their progress. Its skin, she saw in near horror, was black, strikingly marked with yellow spots. It looked almost as terrifying as a croc.

  “That, Ms Wyatt, is a perentie, second only to the komodo dragon in size.”

  “Thank you, that’s quite big enough.” She shuddered. “It must be well over six feet.”

  “Six and a half. That’s Yuku. Actually, you’re very lucky to see him. Possibly you deserved such a treat. Spotting him isn’t all that common. Especially first time out.”

  “So I’ve been blessed?”

  “Yep.” He smiled and her heart twisted that little bit more. In his own way, the Cattle Baron was dynamite. Not an easy man. Not at all. Not overly sympathetic, either. At least to his uncle’s wife. She was troubled by that. Frankly, she was trying to find flaws in the superhero.

  “You know, this is quite an experience for a city born, city bred girl,” she confided. “I’m finding it all very intoxicating.”

  “Me included?”

  “Nope,” she answered briskly. “I need to keep my wits about me. I wouldn’t like to be out for a stroll and run into Yuku. What does the name mean? No, don’t tell me. Aboriginal for Godzilla. You may not be around to protect me.”

  “And you couldn’t outrun him,” he pointed out. “Stand perfectly still. But don’t worry, Amber. I’ll keep an eye on you.”

  And lead me where? “That’s good to know. It must be an extraordinary feeling, knowing you’re master of all this.” With her hand she indicated the infinite open plains. “I never expected the landscape to be so dramatic, or so awe-inspiring. I love all the dry ochre colours. The mirage must be an endless source of fascination, the way it dances and throws up such extraordinary effects. I have to thank you, yet again, for inviting me out here. For the first time in my life, I’m filled with the sense I’m in the authentic Australia.”

  His lean hand reached out, fingers drumming a brief tattoo on her shoulder. “And so you are.” He could see her interest in everything she saw, everything she said, was totally un-feigned. He had given her an opportunity and it looked as if she was determined to take full advantage of it. That pleased him more than he cared to acknowledge. Ms Amber Wyatt was rewarding company. “You’re in the land of the great explorers,” he said. “The overlanders, the incredible brave pioneers, my own ancestors among them, who started up their huge cattle and sheep runs. They built their Outback castles and kept themselves, their families, their employees, stockmen and station hands, and their vast herds and flocks alive.”

  She could hear the pride in his voice. “And it’s a grand achievement to carve out a cattle kingdom in the wilderness.”

  That afternoon the Cattle Baron showed her life on a great Outback station. They parked on a rocky escarpment that glowed an unbelievable orange with charcoal and sapphire striations. The whole area was littered with curious white stones. Below them a mob of mixed steers, bullocks, cows and calves were being watered at a stream. The trample of so many hooves had churned the water to a rusty red. To Amber’s eyes, the cattle looked to be in prime condition. Stockmen on horseback, battered Akubras pulled down low on their foreheads, quietly sat in the saddle, watching on. Moments later, one of the men began to head a number of beasts away from the water. Obviously they had had enough to drink because they went without urging, trotting sedately up the bank, with the stockman harmlessly wielding a whip in the air. The men were all, so far as she could see, aboriginal or part aboriginal. Outback stations would owe a great vote of thanks to their indigenous workforce, she thought, which led her to believe that Mrs MacFarlane was making a huge mistake in not utilizing the skills of Dee’s house girls with baby Marcus. The one who had waited at lunch, young Mina, looked as if she would be very gentle and caring with the little fellow.

  As the afternoon wore on the glare became more intense. Once she was shocked into crying out in panic, “Look!” Her hand shot out to grasp his shoulder.

  “I’m looking,” he answered with a casualness that unnerved her.

  “We’re going to drive right into a lake. Look. Dead ahead.” Her anxiety was mounting to the extent she was braking hard and quite uselessly with her feet.

  “Give it a minute and it will disappear.”

  Just as he predicted, in under thirty seconds the lake disappeared.

  “So what was that?’ she asked in astonishment. “The mirage?”

  “Get used to it. You’re going to see it a lot. The mirage is what so cruelly tricked the early explorers time and time again. Tricked many a traveller. Tricked you.”

  “It sure did!” Amber had no trouble admitting. “It looked so cool and inviting, then again so oddly out of place in the middle of the spinifex. Makes me wonder if I’m going to be able to trust my eyes.”

  “Borrow mine.” He slanted her a smile.

  Her whole body received it like some wonderful benediction.

  Last on the agenda was a drive through the holding camps, men waving, calling out greetings to the boss. The Cattle Baron was popular with his workforce. “We won’t stop today. Just for now, I don’t want you agitating the men.”

  “Agitating the men?” she echoed in disbelief.

  “I’m sure none of them has seen a woman like you in their entire life,” he explained. “Another time you can meet them.”

  “Am I supposed to wear camouflage?”

  He laughed and let it go.

  Several times they forded creeks and branch creeks, the larger stretches of water afloat with waterlilies, magnificent blooms, pink in one place, lotus-blue in another, cream and ivory. How marvellous they would look in a vase! They bumped across a rushing, rock-strewn gully to get to one lagoon in particular, a huge open span of clear crystal water dotted with little islands covered in palms to rival the tropics.

  “A good place to swim,” the Cattle Baron told her casually. “You’ve brought a swimsuit?”

  “Sorry, I didn’t think. How could I when the rush was so great?”

  “Never mind. You can always dive in au naturel.”

  Normally self-assured, she found herself blushing. All over. “I wouldn’t consider it, even if I were on my own.”

  “So what would you be hiding?” He had to laugh at her expression—half embarrassment, half outrage. “It’s all right. Take it easy.” He was, in fact, mentally contemplating what Ms Wyatt would look like unclothed. Divine. He kept veering from powerful attraction to remanning his barricades and possibly saving himself a good deal of grief.

  Head things off at the pass, MacFarlane.

  When they arrived back at the homestead, the sun was setting in such splendour that Amber was reluctant to go indoors.

  “Let’s stay outside for a few minutes,” she begged. “I want to celebrate such beauty. You may be used to it but I’ve never seen a sky so awash with those breathtaking colours—fiery reds, gold, pinks, glorious apricots! And look at the long trails of pale green, silvery-blue and amethyst. How beautiful!”

  “It is that,” he agreed. Her responses were spontaneous. She really was soaking it all in. The remoteness that was so threatening to a lot of people, Ms Wyatt appeared
to be quite comfortable with.

  “The intensity of colour seems almost unreal,” she was saying, her eyes on the glory of the western sky. “I’ve witnessed countless beautiful sunsets before, but nothing like this.”

  “Now that cheers me, Ms Wyatt,” he said and he realised he meant it. “But wait until you see the stars tonight. No city pollution. I can guarantee you’ll never have seen a clearer Southern Cross.”

  How could he miss the heat reflected in her cheeks? If a man had sexual radiance it was he! Exposed to it at such close quarters, it was dazzling.

  Inside the great house, peace reigned. The Cattle Baron looked at her with a wry grin. “The world needs more women like you, Ms Wyatt.”

  “Let’s see what’s happening first.” Amber walked briskly into the informal living area where they had left Eliot MacFarlane and his baby son. Eliot had disappeared but, seated in the armchair, a tender smile on her face, one small brown sandal-shod foot rocking the bouncinette, was Mina. Baby Marcus was wide awake, staring up into Mina’s gentle face.

  As soon as Mina realised that Mr MacFarlane and his visitor—a bright spirit being, Mina thought—were behind her she jumped up, trembling, out of the chair, a look of guilt on her face. “Dee give me permission,” she wailed. “I would never hurt the baby. Never. I have little brothers and sisters of me own.”

  The Cattle Baron held up a hand. “Mina, we would never think for a moment you would harm the baby. Whatever gave you that idea?”

  Mina shot a look from the Cattle Baron to Amber, who smiled reassuringly at her. “Missus Eliot don’t want me anywhere near baby.”

  “That’s because she doesn’t understand how good and reliable you are, Mina,” Cal said, a vertical frown between his strongly marked brows. “You can go now. And thank you. What happened to Mr Eliot, by the way?”

  Mina relaxed into a big smile. “Mr Eliot, he fell fast asleep with baby. Dee told him to go an’ have a good lie down.”

  “Thank you, Mina,” Cal said. After Mina had hurried off, he turned his attention back to Amber. “So what now?”

  “Looks like we’re in charge,” she said a little wryly.

  “Eliot should never have pegged Janis for a full-time mum. He made a bad decision there.”

  “Now don’t go losing your jolly mood.” She bent to free baby Marcus from the bouncinette, swooping him into her arms. “Hello, sweetheart. How’s it going?”

  “I’m sure he can’t talk as yet.”

  “Do you want to hold him?” she asked pointedly.

  “This is blackmail, Ms Wyatt.”

  “You know, you need to get more in touch with your tender side.” She gave him a challenging look. “Take a crash course in how to handle babies. This is your little cousin. Say hello, Marcus. This is Cousin Cal, the big-shot Cattle Baron.”

  “Please do not condescend, Ms Wyatt. You’re entirely at my mercy.”

  The man could conjure up body heat at a glance. “I’m only having a joke.” She really felt that adrenalin jolt.

  “You joke a lot.”

  “What makes you think it’s not a good idea? God forbid I should make you angry. Look, Marcus is smiling.” Her tone carried surprise and delight.

  “Wind?” he suggested, mock polite.

  “Marcus is smiling,” she repeated.

  “So he is!” He came in close, an electric presence, letting the baby take hold of his finger. “You’re an angel, Ms Wyatt.”

  “I’m not an angel.” She was thrilled with the way Marcus and his powerful cousin were connecting. The gentleness of the Cattle Baron’s smile startled her. Maybe he had a lot of heart, after all.

  Then he messed up. “I know you’re not,” he said crisply. “But you are pretty darn special.”

  “Well, thanks for that.”

  “It’s the least I can say.” He bent nearer to the baby. “He’s looking at us like we’re the proud parents.” Marcus was still tightly gripping his finger.

  “I’ve been struck by the same thought. You want kids?”

  He gave her a long, cool, slow look. “Did I say I wanted kids?”

  “Who then shall inherit your kingdom? Seriously now, who? You must want kids. You need kids. You wouldn’t want me to think otherwise, would you?”

  “What if I confess I’m scared of women?”

  “You’re not scared of me.”

  “I swear to God I am.”

  At the devilry in his eyes, every pulse in Amber’s body ignited. It was as if she had swallowed a firecracker. “See how contented he is.” She lowered her head quickly. “I wonder when he had his last bottle. He’s not breastfed?”

  “Hell, what a question!’ He gave her a look that was positively unnerved for a superhero. “Not my place to go into the details.”

  “Just thought I’d run it by you.”

  “Well, I have no idea. I keep right out of the way with that stuff. Anyway, he loves your hair.”

  “The bright colour.” She bent and kissed the top of the baby’s head. “At which point do we find out?”

  “About what?” Myriad expressions flitted across his dynamic face.

  “Don’t snap. There are limits to my tolerance. And, just to get the record straight, I don’t intend to free up time for an affair.”

  “You wish!” he said witheringly.

  Her golden eyes sparkled. “Such arrogance!”

  “You’d do well to remember. Anyway, don’t let’s upset the baby.” He turned his dark head as footsteps sounded on the marble floor, which was inlaid with a grid of rosewood, in the central hall. “Here’s Dee,” he said. “I’m sure she can answer all your questions.”

  “Got it! But I don’t have to like it.”

  “Meaning what?” He shot her a glance. “No, don’t bother. You’re finding it too easy to push my buttons. Now I have to go. I have a hundred and one things I need to attend to.”

  “Well, you’re halfway to your office.” She gave him a sweet smile. “And thank you once again for your time.”

  “My pleasure.” He gave an exaggerated suave bow.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THEY all came together for dinner. In the interim, with Dee looking on, offering helpful suggestions, Amber had managed to bathe Marcus and give him his bottle—no, he wasn’t breastfed, Mrs MacFarlane hadn’t considered it an option. Next, she’d settled him once again in his bouncinette, where he’d immediately returned quite happily to napping.

  “The poor little soul is catching up on a whole lot of lost sleep,” said Dee. “He’s had the roughest time of the lot.”

  “Let’s hope he’s coming out of it.” Amber was grateful that she and Dee were getting on so well. “It could be time. Some little ones don’t settle for a few months, then overnight they’re okay.”

  “You hope! Ya know Mrs MacFarlane is her own worst enemy,” Dee half covered her mouth as she said it, as though Janis might be right behind her. “I suppose the poor girl can’t help her nature.”

  “It’s sad if she feels inadequate for the task.” Amber was still not persuaded that Janis MacFarlane wasn’t a victim of PND.

  But Dee harrumphed. “She’s confident enough to tell everyone off.”

  “Maybe it’s the isolation,” Amber suggested. “No support and no contact from another woman from her own family. Her mother.”

  “I think she has a very poor relationship with her mother,” Dee said, folding and refolding a clean bib. “Don’t tell her I sent young Mina to mind the child. That’ll set her off.”

  “Surely Eliot would tell her?” Amber’s eyes widened. “Why can’t he make her see she needs all the help she can get? Mina is only too willing to mind the baby.”

  “Little thing wouldn’t hurt a fly and she’s utterly trustworthy,” Dee said, very loyal to her staff. “All my girls are. I train them. They pay close attention. They were all born on the station. Went to the station school. They’re happiest here. This is their country. But it’s like I told you, Mrs MacFarlane has…issue
s.”

  “Now that is sad,” Amber said, her voice quiet. “Maybe she needs a little time to adjust to Outback life.”

  “Maybe.” Dee’s sceptical response hung in the air. “Might help if she tried to put on a happy face now and again. Not that I’d recognise it if I saw it. The lady has never wasted her charm on me. Unlike others,” she added cryptically. “I’ve seen a lot of people come and go, Amber. You either love the Outback—take to it like a whistling duck to a lagoon—or you never adapt. Cal’s mum didn’t, though a fair amount of time went by before she lit out. She loved her husband. Not that Jeff Rankin. Never married him anyway. She adored her son. I know he won’t have it, but she did. Big mess up there. Cal’s mum couldn’t cope with the life. Got to feel like a prisoner. City girl, ya see!”

  “Like me,” Amber had to point out.

  “Not like you.” Dee gave a quick shake of the head. “You came in from your trip with your eyes shinin’”

  “That’s a good sign?”

  “The best sign there is!” Dee pronounced, patting Amber’s arm.

  What to wear? The homestead was so splendid, the MacFarlanes so clearly used to the best, she picked out a dress she thought appropriate—a silk maxi. She could have worn it to a garden party. It had lovely full-blown roses, apricot, pink and yellow, printed on a white ground. She’d loved the fabric the minute she’d seen it. It swished delightfully around her ankles. She hoped Janis MacFarlane would join them. She wanted to get her own take on what was so badly troubling the woman. Restored to well-being, Janis MacFarlane could be beautiful. She had to take into account that trained professionals had ruled out PND as the cause of Janis MacFarlane’s distress. She wanted her own view. Offer support if permitted. Janis hadn’t come forward to object to her bathing and feeding baby Marcus, at any rate.

  They dined in yet another area on the east side of the house—a stone colonnaded terrace with a series of arches extending the full length of the rear exterior. The floor was tiled in mosaic form, turquoise, white and orange lifting the deep terracotta. A monumental hewn timber table was beautifully set, the table surrounded by the traditional heavy wicker chairs of South East Asia. It was a wonderfully inviting setting, very cool, lit by many hanging brass lanterns. Amber was able to look out and enjoy a section of the garden which was densely planted with bougainvilleas that thrived in the dry. They spilled and climbed everywhere—pink, orange, bronze and a lovely deep violet. The long flowering bracts simply blazed in the lights.