Boomerang bride

by Margaret Pargeter

  At last, deciding a cotton dress might be better for the house, and such a confrontation, she slipped into one, after showering. First, though, there was Graham. Running a comb through her shining hair, she went to find him. Graham wasn't in his room, so she knocked on Miss Webb's door. She found Miss Webb still in bed, but there was no sign of Graham there either.

  'I expect he'll be downstairs,' Miss Webb mumbled, emerging sleepily from under her bedclothes. She threw Vicki a sullen glance. 'I'm sorry, I just can't keep an eye on him every minute of the night and day, but I don't suppose he's any further than the kitchen!'

  Alarm quickened Vicki's footsteps as she turned and fled. She didn't even stop to tell Miss Webb what she thought of her, letting a four-year-old out of her sight Mice this! It wasn't until she found Graham that she calmed down. It wasn't, after all, Miss Webb's fault. She couldn't be expected to be on duty the whole time, as she had pointed out, and Graham had never been a boy to sleep much. Only the freedom of the station could be going to his head after the necessary restrictions of one room.

  This, Vicki thought resentfully, was where a father might have helped out—a normal father, that was. If Wade had been a normal father he might have kept an adventurous young son happy in the mornings—at least, for an hour. He could have taken him out, perhaps to the stock pens or to watch the men setting out on their daily work. But Wade wasn't, she thought angrily, any normal father. He hadn't any interest in his son at all.

  Graham was in the kitchen, laughing and chattering to an aborigine girl, while another was giving him coffee.

  Vicki, alarmed, almost snatched this from him. 'You don't have that, darling! You have milk, or even milky chocolate!' She felt so hurt that he hadn't come and sought her, she let more anger show in her voice than she had intended.

  The aborigine girls stared at her, their dark eyes round with fright, but before they could speak, two hands tightly clasped her bare arms from behind and Wade spoke over her shoulder.

  'Coffee won't hurt him once in a while. I was almost reared on the stuff and it hasn't done me any harm. Don't fuss, Victoria!'

  Graham immediately went into boyish giggles about her full name, which he had seldom heard before. What he came out with, after several tries, sounded, very much like the wisteria which grew up walls, but she seemed to have lost her sense of humour. Wade must have been behind her when she had expected he would be outside.

  Graham stopped chortling as suddenly as he'd began.

  'Graham likes coffee,' he stuck out his lower lip defiantly. Vicki hadn't realised it was becoming such a habit and made a mental note to speak to him about it—if she could persuade him to take any notice! 'Daddy drinks coffee, so Graham can,' he cried crossly.

  'I can,' Vicki corrected feebly, wondering whether to correct him about the Daddy bit too. A boy of his age couldn't be expected to remember everything right away, although, from the look in his eyes, she had a horrid suspicion he hadn't really forgotten what Wade had told him about that. Impulsively she decided to say nothing. Wade could straighten him out himself on that point, if he thought it worth making a fuss about. As Graham scowled she introduced a note of firmness. 'That's not to say, darling, milk wouldn't be better for you. After all, you're only four.' As he went on sulking she tried to twist from Wade's tightening grip. 'Will you let me go, please?' she asked coldly when she failed.

  He refused, cruelly enjoying the agitation she tried to hide. 'Why aren't you still in bed?' he queried, with a matching coldness. 'I was just about to bring your breakfast—a concession until you're stronger.' As he spoke his breath came down against her cheek. Quickly, an inarticulate sound in her throat, Vicki averted her head.

  Suddenly it came to her why he was here, why he had been going to bring her breakfast. He hadn't been going to risk having anyone see where she was sleeping! 'You don't have to run after me,' she muttered bitterly. 'You must have forgotten I never liked having breakfast in bed. Unlike your lady visitors, I've never been used to it.'

  His hands dug into her, then slackened, but not before she'd felt in them the desire to hurt. 'You don't have to remind me, but I also remember you did once like it there, when I joined you.'

  How dared he remind her of that! That one morning, after ... Indignantly she broke her thoughts, turning in a flash to face him, which was a mistake. Finding him too near, she edged towards Graham, hiding her scarlet face. 'I'll see to Graham's breakfast, then get my own,' she murmured frigidly.

  Wade merely stared at her frostily, looking aggressively · masculine in his checked bush shirt and tight-fitting fawn pants. 'The girls here have already given Graham his breakfast, but you're at liberty to help yourself, if you insist. This is Misilgoe and Boalere,' he nodded towards them, with a faint smile, and they stopped looking apprehensive. 'They're new to the house since you were here.'

  After Vicki said good morning, rather shakily, he told them to take Graham upstairs. Like the previous evening, he abruptly dismissed the boy when he began protesting.

  'Leave him with Miss Webb. She'll look after him.'

  'No!' Vicki objected, seeing the last remnants of her authority dwindling before her very eyes. 'Please stop!' As the two girls grabbed Graham and disappeared without taking any notice, she turned back to Wade, her blue eyes brilliant with anger.

  'Your dedication to duty is touching,' he sneered, 'but I'd appreciate it more if you left him to Miss Webb. I think you should conserve your energy for other things.'

  'Do you?' she challenged sharply. 'That's because you don't know what it feels like to be a normal parent! To me, looking after Graham is a pleasure. He's not just something to be shoved off with relief on to a nanny.'

  'You have to have time to recover.' His dark face was hard as he looked her over. 'You're looking very charming this morning, almost as enticing as you did last night. If you have any energy to spare you can reserve it for me. If I'm to keep three extra people for several weeks I might demand some kind of compensation:' 'How do you mean?' she cried.

  'I'll allow you to work that out for yourself,' he replied, as coolly as if he was discussing market prices.

  Vicki, lifting her face quickly, as suspicious fear lanced through her, was wholly unprepared when his arms caught her and his mouth found hers.

  His mouth was as cruel as it had been the night before and even more insulting. He kissed her as if she was a machine to be used, when and how he needed her. His lips parted hers insolently and his body went taut against her weakening limbs, reviving her memory. His sensual assault was contemptuous, yet the warm desire within her to respond was so strong she felt her senses swimming.

  Then, just as suddenly as he had taken her, he pushed her away, having no obvious pity for the way she shrank from him, the manner in which she moved shaken fingers over her mouth, her wide, pale brow. 'You asked,' his voice cooled maliciously, 'and I've supplied a clue, that's all. I might reach the point of wondering why the hell I should entertain other women when I have a wife available.'

  She stared up into his detached face, into the eyes which, in spite of his having held her so close only a moment ago, held nothing but aversion. "You must be mad,' she whispered, her voice barely audible in the silent kitchen, 'if you think you're going to get anything from me! I didn't ask to come here, not to stay, anyway. I only wanted to collect my son. If you insist on keeping us on Baccaroo then it's your own fault if you feel inconvenienced or out of pocket.' His mouth firmed and his eyes were chill. 'You've a sharper tongue than you used to have, madam. You must see that it's not quite so sharp when others are around. If you want to avoid speculation by giving the impression of reconciliation, then you must be prepared to play your part. I can't do it alone.'

  'I can be civil,' she hissed, her cheeks flaring scarlet, 'just as long as you don't expect me to continue being over-polite when we're alone. Or over-anything!' she finished, incomprehensibly, only wishing she had some means of making him feel as nervous as he made her.

  That he wa
s angry she could tell from the grim set of his mouth. Grasping her arm again, he baited her further. 'You're not entirely indifferent—I sensed it last night. I'm also aware of some change in you that it might pay me to investigate.'

  'I never thought you'd sink low enough to remind me of that!' She referred to what had taken place when she'd gone seeking blankets. Suddenly incensed, she struck out at him with her free hand, hitting him across his disdainful face. The force of it made red marks on the hardness of his cheek. 'I'm not sorry!' she exclaimed, her voice rising. 'You deserve to suffer more than that. You give me a terrible room ...'

  'And?' he prompted silkily, as she faltered, helplessly infuriated with herself that she had betrayed what little ' pride she had left by complaining.

  'Well, I don't know how you could,' she muttered, with childish truculence, feeling completely unnerved.

  Wade McLeod's anger rose as hers dropped. 'I'm not here to account for everything which enters your empty little mind. You'll stay there as long as you intend sleeping alone. But I'm not holding any gun to your head, or hinting that I'd welcome you with open arms. If your bedroom doesn't come up to your expectations, you might stop to consider if you deserve any better.'

  'Oh, all right!' Vicki tried desperately to cover a fresh flood of fury with a meekness she was far from feeling. She was only sorry she had said anything. She hadn't meant to. Wade might be unfair—she didn't know how he could feel justified in saying half the things he had, but there could be little sense in standing here insulting each other. When it came to an open battle of words, Wade would most probably win, as he'd usually done! She would be wiser to bide her time. Besides, the girls might appear at any moment and Miss Webb certainly hadn't had her breakfast, if everyone else had. Vicki remembered she hadn't yet eaten herself.

  She took a deep breath. 'I'll soon get my room cleaned up. I take it you won't object to my doing that? I'd hate to think I was disturbing happy old memories, along with the dust!'

  Why, you' Then, like herself, he subsided. 'Get the girls to do that,' he allowed carefully, his grey eyes glinting. Wade,' she hesitated, hoping to divert the conversation to a less controversial topic, 'I feel awfully sorry about poor Mrs. Clover. After you told me I thought about her quite a bit. You say she died. I hope she didn't suffer?'

  'No.' Wade didn't remark on the sudden tears in Vicki's eyes, but his glance softened slightly. 'It was a heart attack. She only lived an hour afterwards. By the time the flying doc got here it was all over. Not that he could have done anything, supposing he'd been on the spot. Before she went she spoke of you.'

  This last bit of information being given so grudgingly, Vicki didn't pursue it. For a minute she couldn't trust herself to speak. "I'm sorry,' she repeated. I know how long she was with you.' She wondered what he would say if she were to tell him about all the stories Mrs. Clover had been so fond of relating about his childhood, all the questions Vicki had asked, the way she had listened. Instead she said softy, while Wade nodded curtly, 'I'm going to miss her. Who do you have now in her place?'

  ·No one but the two girls you saw. We did have someone, but she left, just before we heard of you again. I've not got around to replacing her.' Vicki didn't ask why the last woman hadn't stayed. It might have been a simple matter of loneliness. The isolation of the Outback defeated many. 'You mean you've only got two girls? No one in charge of them?' 'Nope.'

  His laconic drawl wasn't helpful. Vicki knew, from experience, the aborigine women were not very good in the -house. Outside, on the stations, the aborigine men made splendid stockmen, but in the homestead their women often needed constant supervision. It maybe had to do with the fact that the aborigines had become too used to living in old huts of corrugated iron where there had been little housework to be done. Even today, with improved conditions, their cooking was often done outside on campfires and there was little to encourage them to excel in the domestic arts. Some of the station owners' wives found it easier to do the housework themselves, although Mrs. Clover had never been deterred.

  Vicki glanced at Wade doubtfully. 'Were these girls here with Mrs. Clover? I mean, are they trained? If not, then who's been looking after your grandfather, and Miss Webb?'

  'God!' Wade ran an impatient hand around the back of his head. 'Haven't I enough to do without having to bother about things like that? The last housekeeper we had managed to train Misilgoe. I expect it was she who cooked our dinner last night.'

  'It wasn't very appetising.' 'I didn't notice.'

  What had he noticed, then? Vicki recalled his dark unreadable face. Certainly she had come in for some attention, if none of it approving. She didn't flatter herself she'd been enough to take his mind off a badly cooked meal.

  'Wade,' she looked at him levelly, her eyes wide-spaced and very clear, 'you've been hinting about having to keep Graham and me. More, I suspect, to annoy me than anything else, but I intend paying my way by taking over here. You refuse to get rid of Miss Webb. If your grandfather is as ill as you say then perhaps a nurse might be good to have around. But this aside, it doesn't take two women to look after one small boy, and I can't sit around doing nothing all day.'

  His jaw went tight. 'Damn it, girl, don't you ever give up? You're going to concentrate on. getting your strength back, not on my domestic problems I'

  'So you can send me back to Melbourne as good as new,' she rejoined bitterly. "When the time comes, no matter what I do, I can assure you I'll go without any fuss.' 'Well, I don't want you here.'

  He could mean on the station, but she found it wasn't so hurtful to settle for the kitchen. Won't people think it strange if I'm not here, seeing how you're placed?' 'You're still far from well.'

  'I don't intend knocking myself up, if that's what you mean. I'll take things easy—to begin with, anyway.'

  'Please yourself.' His voice was cutting as he shrugged his broad shoulders. 'But if you must amuse yourself in this way don't blame me if you kill yourself. Maybe it will save me the trouble of getting rid of you, if you're whipped off to hospital again.'

  Vicki swallowed. 'Then you won't be advertising for another housekeeper?'

  'I'll reserve judgment on that,' he retorted flatly. 'I refuse to promise you anything, other than the edge of my tongue if you don't keep your son out of my sight!'

  After breakfast was over, Vicki tried to put the hurt in her heart aside and see her present position in its proper perspective. Once she had restored some sort of order in the kitchen she went in search of old Mr. McLeod. Miss Webb, she had been informed by the lady herself, had worked out a routine for Graham which she didn't want broken. Which she doesn't want me breaking, Vicki thought dismally, as Miss Webb whisked Graham away. She knew she might have asserted herself, but she supposed he was in need of a little discipline after years of Mrs. Parkes, and Miss Webb didn't seem such a terrible dragon. She was only a determined young woman, trying to make her presence felt.

  Vicki realised that if she was to survive the next few weeks she must learn to relax her over-possessive hold on Graham a little. She must learn not to be so over-anxious every minute of the day. If she learnt to let go, especially when he was in such capable hands, both she and Graham might benefit. She had to convince herself this would be so, but it wasn't easy. Having had sole charge of him since he was born, she had had to learn to make every decision, a habit which she might find difficult to change. Briefly she wondered what it would have been like if Graham had been born here, at Baccaroo, and she had had Wade at her side to help and advise during these important, formative years. Maybe by now they might have had another child to keep Graham company. Feeling her cheeks grow hot, Vicki immediately dismissed such a thought and tried to concentrate on her more pressing problems.

  Ruefully she knew she had been trying to persuade herself that Graham was better out of the way because she I wasn't sure she could cope with him and all she wanted to do that morning. She had argued otherwise with Wade, [ but already she was beginning to realise she hadn't r
e-gained her usual energy. She must conserve what she had. Her room, she decided, was urgent, but meals were obviously the more important; Dust could wait, but a man's hunger was another thing. Then she must see old Mr. McLeod and have a few things out with him, if she dared!

  Crossing the hall, she found the huge house quiet, already beginning to drowse in the steadily mounting heat of the day. Miss Webb had borne Graham off for a walk down by the creek whete, so she had informed Vicki, she was teaching him to count with the aid of various birds. It had seemed simple enough, and interesting, but Vicki missed having him around with his noisy chatter.

  She paused a moment in the drawing room when she didn't find old Mr. McLeod there. It could be a lovely house. She could have improved it a lot after she had married Wade, but he had refused to allow her to touch anything. This hadn't been because he hadn't thought her capable; it had been because of the situation between him and his grandfather—a state of affairs' which she could see hadn't altered much.

  Wade had told her, though, shortly after they had married, that his mother had built the house. His mother had apparently come from a wealthy Sydney family. On top of this she had inherited a considerable sum of money from two aunts. The old house still stood, but appeared very primitive compared with this. When his mother had died it was found she had left everything to her only child and, when Wade had grown up, he had used it to increase the McLeod holdings. Vicki believed he was the largest shareholder. She didn't think, however, in spite of the bad feeling between his grandfather and him, that he had ever needed to use this power as the Old Man seemed quite willing to let him make almost every decision.