by Margaret Way
She didn’t love her husband. Love hadn’t come into it. It had seemed like a great career move at the time. She wanted to be pampered. She wanted to be rich. She wanted to establish herself in society. It wasn’t as though she could actually say that she had ever loved anyone. She had thought herself incapable of it and wasn’t by any means desperate about it. Some people were natural born loners.
Until she’d laid eyes on Cal MacFarlane.
Cal, her husband’s nephew, with his enormous charisma and those glittering green eyes!
It was lunacy. But for a while it was glorious! To feel as she did! It was so extravagant, so real that she didn’t have a single moment of remorse, or shame, much less guilt. She was always on the verge of telling him. Later she would spend endless time thanking God she hadn’t. The humiliation would have crushed her. But back then! Finally, at the age of thirty-four, she had fallen in love. She was human after all. She would never think of herself as a loner ever again. Only it was her cruel fate to learn the hard way that it was all a terrible mistake—a mistake made all the more bitter because, from the very day of her wedding, Cal had kept his distance. Restraint she had expected, the situation being what it was. But the searing truth, impossible at first to grasp, was that he didn’t like her, much less desire her. She had divined that once the haze had started to clear. It had come as a tremendous shock.
How could such a thing happen? She had thought the powerful attraction just had to be mutual. But Cal gave her a wide berth. He loved his uncle. They had a great relationship, when she had never had a significant relationship in her life. Her top businesswoman mother, by and large, had ignored her most of the time she was growing up. Having a child didn’t sit comfortably with her career-oriented mother. These days, burdened with her own extremely difficult, demanding child, she had more empathy for her mother. Having Marcus didn’t sit comfortably with her, either. Neither woman was the nurturing kind. So mother and daughter shared a trait. Where was this mystical, magical bond she was supposed to experience with her child? Maybe she might have felt it had she and Cal created Marcus together. But Cal had no sexual interest in her. She could taste the steely humiliation in her mouth.
It was that interfering, sickeningly capable fire-head, Amber Wyatt, who had somehow established a strong connection with Marcus, who had definitely taken Cal’s fancy. So desperately in love with him herself—how did one go about killing love?—she could easily read the signs. It disturbed her terribly that Amber Wyatt might succeed where she had failed. By necessity, she had to let Ms Wyatt organise the baby’s needs, but no way was she going to stand by and allow such a woman to convince Cal she was just the kind of woman—the kind of wife—he needed. For some reason she didn’t fully understand, she didn’t feel threatened by the idea of Brooke Rowlands coming back into Cal’s life. If Brooke could hang in there and Cal eventually married her she would know his heart wasn’t in it. It would be an arrangement like hers with Eliot.
She could live with that.
Amber was on her way back from the stables after her routine morning ride when Dee appeared on the pathway. She had her arms extended frantically, as if trying to block a runaway horse.
“Everything okay?” Instantly Amber was beset by panic. When she had left the house Marcus was perfectly fine. Had something happened?
“The baby’s fine,” Dee cried, knowing how important little Marcus’s well-being had become to Amber. “It’s somethin’ else. Did ya happen to notice a plane comin’ in?”
“Sure.” She hadn’t taken a lot of notice. Even during her short stay, light aircraft had been flying in and out of the station. Freight, supplies, the vet et cetera.
Dee reached her, grasping her arm. “Listen, love,” she panted, “you’ll have to go back and warn Cal. He won’t be at all happy about this.’
“About what, Dee?” Amber was confused.
“About Brooke showin’ up.” Dee looked less than delighted. “She’s on her way up to the house.”
That earned Amber’s full attention. Cal’s ex-fiancée had come calling? The woman he had most certainly slept with. It was highly unlikely they hadn’t consummated their relationship. “What does she want?” She could hear the anxious note in her voice, but Dee didn’t appear to notice.
“Why, to try again, girl,” she said, heaving a deep breath. “She’ll never give up, on the principle that Cal won’t be able to hold out. ’Course she always comes with an excuse. An invitation to some ‘do’ or other. Some books or CDs she thinks the family might like. Random check on Janis and the baby. Any excuse will do. We can’t talk now. You’ll have to find Cal. He’s at the Four Mile. Well, get goin’, love!” Dee urged Amber on with a stout tap on the shoulder.
This time she took a fresh horse, the handsome coal-black gelding, Horatio, her first choice. Cal had convinced her to get her bearings first, as well as ride her way back into form before she took on the big gelding. Today she was ready. The morning’s ride, always in the company of winged formations of birds, had been delightful. Star Belle was the smoothest mover. Now that she had got used to Amber up on her back they made a fine pair, horse and rider. She had promised Cal she would stick to a certain radius and, mindful of possible dangers, she had obeyed him implicitly. Eagerly she waited for the time when he would join her for a long ride. He had promised her he would, but she knew how things were revving up on the station.
Up on Horatio’s back, she felt a tiny twinge of nerves. This was another animal altogether, much bigger, with longer, stronger legs. She bent low over the gelding’s ebony neck, keeping her voice down to a calm, low pitch to reassure the animal of her presence. “All’s well, boy. All’s well. Just do your best for me.”
Out in the grasslands without mishap, she soon discovered this was a horse that was all fluid power. No wonder Horatio had dazzled in his heyday. Obviously the horse was demonstrating his willingness to trust her. She felt over time they could build up quite a rapport. If she kept heading north-west, following the line of coolibah over-hung billabongs, she would come on the Four Mile where the cows and calves were being herded. It was even possible she might be invited to join in damper and billy tea. She had met most of the men by now. Most of them were very shy around women, which didn’t stop them ogling Amber, but very discreetly. What was she going to say to Cal? Boy, are you in trouble or not! Your girlfriend’s here.
What if he answered, Great!
This had been a time of intense excitement but also great uncertainty for her. A testing time. She thought of it as going on a journey. She thought Cal was going along with her. Could she be proved wrong? She’d have to make a point of asking Dee just how often in recent times Brooke Rowlands had come calling. Although Janis had made it her business to tell her that Cal and Brooke had slept together on her last stay, she wasn’t at all persuaded. Maybe she couldn’t bear to be persuaded. There was a good deal more to learn about Cal. He was one complex man and his mistrust of women was in-grained. His mother leaving at a critical stage of his development had kick-started that condition. His fiancée betraying him with, of all people, a friend had entrenched it. Women weren’t to be trusted. Or forgiven. Men weren’t to be trusted either. Not a woman alive would dispute that.
Amber reviewed the developing situation with some trepidation. Brooke could still pose a threat. Life could be astonishingly uncertain. Cal had become engaged hoping for happiness, after all. But no one could take happiness as an absolute certainty. There were always risks. Always unanswered questions. Maybe Brooke’s visit would clear up all those vital points?
Approaching the Four Mile she reined the big gelding in. “We’ve made it, my friend!” There was elation in that.
She rode quietly into camp. There was a whole lot of ribaldry passing to and fro among the stockmen but, when they sighted her, silence fell like a blanket.
“The boss here?” she called to the seemingly stunned group. She might well have been an apparition.
Instantly there
was rectitude. The head stockman was the first to respond. He touched a respectful hand to his battered hat. “Go get him, miss.” He strode off in one direction, but Cal confounded them all by appearing from another, cool eyes flashing.
“Say it isn’t so!” He indicated for her to take her feet out of the stirrups before sweeping her out of the saddle. “That’s not Horatio?”
They were standing so close. His arm had slid around her waist, bringing their hips together. His polished skin gleamed gold with sweat. She could feel beads of moisture start trickling between her breasts. Their relationship was more than ripe for sex. But, once they took that step, both of them would be altering their worlds. Fate had led her on this fantastic journey. In the process it had showed her her true nature. She was a passionate woman—passionately in love. It had never been remotely like this with Sean. Sean’s betrayal had actually done her an enormous favour. It had opened a new door on life. A life she was rapidly coming to hope was full of promise.
“Horatio it is!” She spoke breezily when her blood was sizzling. “I thought I’d give it a shot. Actually, we went very well together.”
“You know what they say? Pride comes before a fall.” He looked back over his shoulder. “Take Horatio, would you, Toby.”
“Sure, boss.” Toby came on the double to collect the gelding.
Cal led her into the shade. “Did you expect me to be impressed?” There wasn’t the most approving note in his voice.
“No need to get testy.” She glanced up at his handsome high-cheekboned face, shadowed by the brim of his hat. His light eyes were such a shock. “I took my usual ride on Star Belle in accordance with your wishes, Mr MacFarlane, but returning to the house I met up with Dee with a message to pass on. I needed a fresh horse, okay? No worries, anyway. Horatio and I are pals.”
“You could have had trouble controlling him,” he said, wanting to grab hold of her and keep her safe. “Horatio doesn’t take to everybody.” That was the sorry truth.
“Is that so? Well, I have to tell you it was love at first sight. Ever happen to you?” She stared challengingly into his cool green eyes.
“It has, up until recently, been a point of pride with me to keep a level head, Ms Wyatt. But, if such a thing happens, you’ll be the first to know.”
“Can I count on it?” There was a betraying wobble in her voice.
“I’ve said so, haven’t I?”
“Right.” She dipped her head before her rioting feelings became too obvious. “Do you want to hear the message or not?”
He gave a laugh, half maddened, half amused. “Amber, that was the Rowlands Cessna that flew in. Do you really think I don’t know what’s happening over my own land? Who is it—Peter and Brooke, or Brooke on her own?”
She mustered a smile. “I’m delighted to tell you it’s Brooke on her own. It’s a wonder you didn’t feel it.” She lightly tapped her breast. “You know, here in the heart.”
“That’s it, fire away.” He brought up his hand, passing it over his eyes. “Could you do yet another thing for me? Go back to the homestead and tell Brooke I’ll be away for a few days.”
“You speak in jest, sir?” His face was so perfectly straight.
“Hell, I half mean it,” he groaned.
“So where would you be if you decided to chicken out?”
“Fair question.” He reached out and yanked her thick copper plait.
“Gone bush?” she suggested. “I suppose, if you wanted, you’d have a chance of pulling that off. Unless you really want to see her. Do you?” She spoke lightly but her expression was alert.
“You’re kidding. I’m dying to see her.”
Her heart lunged. “I thought you’d moved on?”
“Me?” He leaned in very close. “For such a beautiful, intelligent, perceptive woman you’re mighty unsure of yourself.”
“Put it another way. My emotions are fragile. So just don’t go treading on them.”
“As if I would!” He stared into her eyes. “We’ve got to trust one another, Amber. Or learn how.” He broke into a quotation, his voice deepening with some emotion that caused a delicious shiver to run down her back. “‘I have spread my dreams under your feet. Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.’” That said, he reverted to his normal crisp tone. “Isn’t that a poem?”
“Yeats. At least I think it’s Yeats. You have a great voice, Cal. It’s a bit like Russell Crowe’s. Or even Mel Gibson’s. Anyway, I’ve delivered my message. Now it’s up to you. And to think I rode all this way for nothing. You already knew.”
He laughed quietly. “Would a cup of billy tea make it up to you?”
“I thought you’d never ask.”
Brooke Rowlands couldn’t have been nicer. A young woman of style. Well, she had to have something for the Cattle Baron to have fallen in love with her in the first place, Amber reasoned. She wasn’t proud of the fact that she felt more than a few flashes of some unwelcome emotion that had to be jealousy. She wasn’t a jealous woman by nature. She had never felt jealous of Georgie Erskine, which was odd. But she found she really cared about Cal and Brooke’s relationship. Was it firmly in the past or not? It would be too, too awful if Cal were to decide somewhere along the line he wanted Brooke, the countrywoman, back. Confounding things happened every day of the week. Human behaviour was beyond rational explanation.
On Jingala Amber was showing remarkable resilience. She never gave Sean a thought now. He was history. She wasn’t sure what that said about her. All she knew was that meeting Cal MacFarlane had proved a life-altering experience. It had nothing whatever to do with warding off the pain and humiliation of her broken engagement. Something absolutely unique had happened. She was certain enough of own powers of attraction, backed up by Cal’s words and actions, to recognize that Cal had been plunged into a similar situation. But he wasn’t a trusting guy. The thing was, attraction took on its own dimensions. What she felt was powerful. Brooke, who had been desirable enough to land Cal in the first place, obviously wanted a second chance. Who could blame her?
What exactly did Cal, the object of all their longings, feel? With the arrival of Brooke on the scene, Amber came to the full realisation that she wanted him all to herself. The world could offer her no more than Cal MacFarlane.
As soon as she strode through the front door, a strikingly attractive brunette with a glossy chin-length bob, a deep fringe to show off her lovely big brown eyes, a great figure in designer jeans and a red tank top that tightly hugged her pert breasts surged from the Great Room.
“Amber Wyatt! I may call you Amber? You’re even more beautiful in person than you are on our TV screens. I’m one of your fans.” Appearing slightly breathless, the young woman held out her hand. Amber took it, feeling silky, pampered skin. There was something underlying the cordial manner but Amber put it down to understandable concern. Women could spot possible rivals in a nanosecond.
“It’s Brooke, isn’t it?” Amber smiled back. It was hard not to. Brooke sounded so sincere, earnest even. She had to be aware that during her stint in front of the cameras she had won over a lot of viewers.
“Of course it’s Brooke,” Janis’s voice rang out from behind them. “Where’s Cal?”
“Patience, patience. I only saw him briefly. He’s right in the thick of it.”
“I bet you went looking for him,” Janis countered.
Brooke Rowlands pre-empted any retort by linking her arm through Amber’s and turning her towards the Great Room. “You’d like coffee?”
“Love some,” Amber said. “First I’d like to freshen up after my morning ride.”
“You enjoy riding?”
Why the note of surprise? “Sure do.”
“So what horse did Cal let you take?”
You’d swear it was a test. “Belle Star is my usual mount. She’s lovely. Very sweet-tempered when you get to know her. I have taken Horatio out. A different horse altogether.”
“Then you must ride very well.” Brook
e didn’t sound all that pleased to hear it.
“My dad put me on my first pony at age six,” Amber explained. “I love horses.”
“Dreadful, unpredictable animals!” Janis shuddered as though life was hard enough without having to contend with horses.
Amber and Brooke, both fine horsewomen, ignored her. “Give me ten minutes,” Amber begged, turning towards the staircase.
“How did you know Brooke was here?” Janis called after her, like some detective.
Amber’s heart skipped a beat but she turned back casually. “Just as Brooke knows my face, I know hers. You’re often in the society pages, aren’t you, Brooke?” For one awful moment she thought Brooke was going to deny it. She hadn’t, in fact, ever laid eyes on Brooke Rowlands before. There were certainly no silver-framed photographs of her in Cal’s study.
But Brooke gave a gratified smile. “I do love to get away to the city from time to time. You can’t imagine how relieved I am the paparazzi don’t follow me around.”
As promised, Amber was downstairs ten minutes later, having dashed under the shower and re-dressed in a short loose kaftan that wafted around her body. First she checked in with Dee in the kitchen.
“Find the boss?” Dee asked in a conspiratorial whisper, though no one could have heard her even if they were hiding behind the door.
“My horse could have found Cal on his own.” Amber smiled. “He said he’ll be out of town for a few days.”
“I bet he’d like to be!” Dee muttered, never having forgiven Brooke for betraying Cal.
“I thought he might like having her around?” Amber ventured uncertainly.
Dee gave a grunt. “Been chattin’ to Mrs MacFarlane?”
“Anyway, how’s our little sweetheart?” Amber broke off a couple of seedless white grapes, popping them in her mouth.
“He’s fast asleep.” Dee gave a satisfied smile. “I’ve set Mina to watching over the dear little soul. I tell you, Marcus is a totally different baby. All your doin’, my girl!”
