“Can I come sit with you, miss?” Noel cajoled, tugging on Toni’s fingers.
“I told you, Noel,” his mother warned.
“I wanna see Dad.”
“You can see him well enough.”
Toni relented. “I’ll hold his hand, Lucy if that’s all right with you. We’ll stand beside the fence.”
Lucy gazed at her son with love and wry amusement. “Just behave yourself, boy. I don’t want nuthin’ happening.”
“Nothing will, Lucy,” Toni assured her.
“It always does with Noel around.” Lucy grinned.
“Mr. Beresford has been training Dad. He says he’s a natural,” Noel said proudly, trotting alongside Toni.
“I’m sure he is, Noel.” Toni smiled, keeping a firm grip on the little boy’s hand. “Knowing how to handle horses is a gift.”
Byrne was still in the ring with the large, sleek, high-mettled colt This was a horse that had never known bridle or hobbles. The silent, light-footed Perky, in his battered felt hat, denim shirt and jeans, red dust clogging his stockman’s elastic-sided boots, turned to grin at his little son.
“Good on ya, Dad,” the boy called. “Come on, Big Fella.”
“Hush now.” Toni bent over the boy. “You don’t want to make the horse nervous, Noel. He’s frightened enough already.”
Just to prove it, Big Fella reared and began to bolt in a circle, kicking up the fine red dust, which rose in floating cloud castles. Perky swung a lasso and hung on tight, though the rope began to slip through his gloved hands.
“Come on,” he said. “We won’t hurt you. We’re good pals, you and me.”
“He’s not ready to be pals, Perky,” Joel hooted.
The sleek bay was digging in his heels, but Byrne moved closer, still gently swishing the bag, which began to engage the animal’s curiosity. Finally he reached out to pat the horse’s neck, gently, caressingly, his head inclined as he spoke to the horse with sympathy and affection. A lot of patting went on. A lot of crooning talk. Sweet whispering words that the horse responded to like magic. Byrne began long, gentle smoothing of the flanks, soothing the quivering brumby’s muscles.
The bridle was over the horse’s head. The bit went through the colt’s soft open mouth. Without protest. The horse had never experienced anything like it before, a foreign object in its mouth, yet it started to chew on it rhythmically, much as Noel might have chewed on a hard caramel.
While Byrne continued to pat the animal, Perky slipped a halter over its head. The colt stood quite still, obviously wondering what was going to happen next. No threat was being offered. No pain. No fright. Byrne sank down, tied another rope to the halter and tossed it gently between the horse’s legs where Perky looped it around a rear leg. With lots of words and pats, Big Fella was hobbled, miraculously quiet until it realised its legs were bound.
Then it totally bottomed out.
“Poor old fella. Poor old fella,” Noel shouted, distressed.
Toni tried to explain to him. “It seems like that, but Big Fella has to be trained, Noel. Horses are very powerful. They can kick out, even kill. When Big Fella is broken in he’ll make a good tough bush horse for your daddy to ride. He’ll love his work.”
One thing they could be sure of—Big Fella wasn’t liking what was happening now. He was screaming up a storm, charging then stumbling, the freedom of his gait inhibited by the hobbles. In the adjoining yard the other brumbies snorted and kicked in sympathy. Vigorous whinnies were exchanged.
“Don’t wanna see no more,” Noel cried, totally losing his smile.
“All right, pet.” Contrite, Toni turned to take the boy to his mother. “Don’t upset yourself. One day very soon Big Fella is going to make a fine ride. You have to go to school, don’t you? Be taught.”
“Waste of time,” Noel said.
“You say that now because you miss being able to run around all day. But one day in the near future you’re going to please everyone with all you’ve learned.”
“Big Fella’s a good horse,” Noel said doggedly. “He should be able to play all day. Like me.”
While Big Fella was being pushed into another holding yard, a look of astonishment on its face, Noel flopped into his mother’s lap. “Don’t like Big Fella tied up.”
“We all gotta learn, son,” his mother said. “It’s pretty hard, losin’ your natural spirit.” Toni couldn’t help but agree. Even humans were forced to conform.
Next into the ring was a slender, compact bronze-coloured horse with neck and head held high and the flash of fire in its eyes. Without the little boy to consider, Toni climbed onto the fence, taking a position in the shade some little distance from the others. With her fair skin she had to take extra care, and she didn’t want her arms tanned to her shirt sleeves for the wedding.
For all its slenderness, the bronze horse showed strength and lightning quickness, circling the ring and evading Byrne’s hand and that tricky burlap bag that seemed harmless but wasn’t. There was magic in that rough waving cloth. Magic in the tall, powerful man with the soft, caressing voice.
The seductive wooing started again. They watched, entranced, as Byrne, with a wide variety of moves and soothing sounds, low whistles, clucks and whispering, slowly but surely gained the curious horse’s confidence. This horse was going to be a good one. It wasn’t until a good half hour later, when Perky took over from Byrne with one of the other aboriginal stockmen for an offsider, that Noel showed how difficult he was to restrain. While the others relaxed in the lull, Noel suddenly bounded from his mother’s lap to join his father in the ring. He rolled like a top under the pole fence, startling everyone, including the spotted brumby in the ring.
It reared, standing high on its back legs. Then it began to charge.
Toni, closest to the child, acted without a minute’s thought. She took a flying leap into the ring and grabbed the little boy by his shirt, though he was intent on evading her. Then, with all the swiftness and strength of frenzy, she started to propel them backward under the rail, the charge of adrenaline so great her ears were buzzing painfully.
The horse was bolting toward them, shaking the earth with the thunder of its hooves, until it was brought up by a lasso Byrne threw with great skill and precision. The backlash tore through his body. A hard grimace appeared on his face. Perky ran to him, latched onto the rope. Both men went over, tumbled, held, while the horse came to a shuddering stop against the rail, beaten and subdued.
“For God’s sake!” Kerry reached his sister first, lifting the wailing little boy and handing him to his mother, who was shaking with reflex anger.
“You could have been killed, you little devil,” Lucy sobbed.
Noel seemed to expect a cuff but got a violent hug instead.
Toni was lying on the ground, her eyes shut, her slender body in the fetal position, knees drawn up against her chest.
“Toni, you’re all right, aren’t you?” Kerry bent over her, appalled. He’d been certain she hadn’t hurt herself. Now he wasn’t sure.
“I’ve got grit in my eyes, damn it.” She was breathing deeply, trying to get air in her lungs. She hadn’t been scared for herself, there was no time, but she’d had a terrible vision of the little boy disfigured.
“At least you’re in one piece.” Kerry’s voice wobbled in relief. “Maybe they ought to make you and Byrne a team on the circuit.”
He broke off as Byrne strode toward them. Byrne all static electricity...
Fierce emotions were locked inside him. The incident, brief as it was, had struck him to the heart, like a hammer to an anvil. It also brought home how profound were his feelings. Fear was almost unknown to him, yet fear had engulfed him like a brushfire. For a split second he’d been rendered powerless. Powerless at a time when he needed all his strength and wits about him. The brumby had been desperate to break out of the enclosure. Desperate to protect itself against the people who kept it against its will. Desperate to lash out at anyone in its way. In that bri
ef span of time he’d had to act. That was all he had. A split second. Too much emotion could paralyse, cause terrible tragedy. His father had impressed that on him from a very early age.
When he reached Toni he went down on his knees, feeling some odd pain like the point of a knife at his heart. What did this terrible caring mean? Destruction of self? “Toni, are you hurt?”
“She could have been.” Cate spoke through chattering teeth, though the cobalt air glittered with heat. “That was so brave!”
“I thought I made certain Lucy had charge of the boy. It’s my fault,” Byrne’s voice rasped in his throat. “Children are so unpredictable.”
“But she’s all right,” Kerry hastened to tell him, sensing Byrne’s extreme tension. “So’s little Noel, thank God.”
“I’ve got grit in my eyes and I want something done about it now,” Toni announced in such an irritated voice, Byrne reached for her and lifted her in his arms.
“Okay, I’ll oblige. Keep your eyes shut tight. I’m going to take you down to the creek.”
“Are you sure you aren’t going to drown me?” She could feel the hard, corded muscles in his arms. Intuition told her he was upset and angry. At her. At Lucy. At himself.
“No, I’m going to duck your head under,” he said tersely.
“Just dump me in. I don’t care if I get wet.”
“Neither do I.” His laugh flared. Jangled, like him.
Next thing they were submerged beneath the jade green water, descending to a level that washed the grit from Toni’s clenched eyes.
Eventually she opened them, saw silver specks on a fish that shot away from her. “Gosh, it’s cold,” she shouted, as they both broke the surface.
Byrne made no reply. He put his hands on her shoulders, taking them down again, the waters closing over their heads, into the dark green depths shot through here and there with golden rays, bursts of light against the eyes. One strong arm bound her to him while he pressed a deep, intoxicating kiss on her wet mouth. All in wonderful underwater slow motion.
The excitement of it was enormous. The calm waters might have become rapids. There was no chance of getting free. Not that she wanted to be free. Her heart was hammering wildly in her chest as his extraordinary force seemed to pass through her body, energising it. It was. almost as though they shared a physical being, an intimacy that was astonishing to her.
“Don’t ever frighten me again,” he said when they surfaced. Silver droplets decorated his hair, clung to his black eyelashes, accentuating the dazzling beauty of his eyes.
At their expression exhilaration flashed through her. She felt lighter than air. She threw back her head and gave a sweet, joyous laugh. “When can I atone with a kiss?”
“We both know kisses can get out of control.” He was shocked and aroused by a sudden vision of her beautiful naked body beneath him.
It was electrifying to be with him. An allurement she couldn’t forgo. She loved this man. She loved him even as she knew his feelings were ambiguous. He prized his male autonomy. He guarded it so fiercely. She would have to find a sure way to reach him.
“Say, what’s with you two?” Joel yelled from the bank.
“They sure as hell aren’t fighting,” Kerry said with a delighted laugh.
“I’d say not.” Cate sounded thrilled.
“I’d say they were kissing.” Andrea’s expression was frozen.
Joel paid no attention to her at all. “Whatever Byrne wants, Byrne gets,” he said with a mixture of resignation and admiration.
From the water Toni, graceful as a mermaid, lifted an arm. “Why don’t you all join us?” she called. How beautiful the day! The blossoming trees! The prancing horses in the yard! Everything was glorious.
Her invitation raised a ready response. Joel looked at the others. “Why not? I’m all for celebrating life.” He threw off his hat, tugged at his high riding boots then with wild yippee made a dash for the creek.
Without further ado Cate and Kerry went after him, whooping all the way, hitting the water together, laughing and splashing. The life force was deep within them as they surged together for a loving embrace.
Round the yard the stockmen broke into relieved laughter. Little Noel wanted to join them, but this time his father held him high in his arms. Only Andrea stood aloof, her love turned to hate.
It was true what they said, jealousy corroded the soul. Her worst fears were coming true. Byrne had succumbed to the Golden Girl’s attraction, but the thought of it continuing was more than she could endure. Even at that moment he seemed to be enmeshed in her long gold hair. It fanned out like silk on the crystal clear water, both of them floating while Cate and the young men were sporting like dolphins.
Idiots! She hated them all. Or was it simply a high after a narrow escape? Was that the explanation? The girl had taken a considerable risk. She might look as delicate as a lily but she was swift and athletic, a beautiful, stylish rider. She should have taken into account that Toni Streeton had been born and bred on the land. Every moment the girl remained, Andrea felt her chances with Byrne slipping away. She had seen his eyes when he’d looked at the girl lying so still and vulnerable on the sand. The eyes told Andrea what she did not choose to know.
The freight plane arrived with supplies and a thick letter from Zoe.
“What has she got to say?” Kerry asked, as Toni stood on Nowra’s veranda splitting open the envelope.
“Sit down and I’ll read it out. Or would you like to read it yourself?”
Kerry looked at her gravely. “It’s addressed to you, poppet.”
“It’s for both of us, I’m sure. I keep telling you, Zoe never lost her love for you.”
“No, she just lost touch.”
Toni winced, feeling a wave of pain pass over her. “I love you, Kerry,” she said, her eyes blurred.
“I know you do,” Kerry answered, his torment pushed aside.
“My dearest Antoinette,” Toni began.
It was the start of a long, rambling letter full of anxiety, frustration, loneliness and all kinds of complaints. Zoe’s romance wasn’t going well. Though she used every bit of her charm, she wasn’t getting on with Patrick’s family, grown up and married, a whole network of them. The gap between herself and Patrick was widening. She had tremendous worries about her security. It was quite possible Claude, fed up, would write her off. She was missing Toni terribly. Having Toni around made life so much more stable. She had no one to do all her little tasks. No one to turn to for advice.
“Does she say anything at all about me? About the wedding?” Kerry asked in wonderment. “Or is it about Zoe’s trials and tribulations? Total self-absorption would sum her up.”
That struck Toni as particularly true. She leafed through another two pages, all related specifically to Zoe, finding on the last page the information that Zoe fully intended to fly home for “her baby’s” wedding.
“I suppose I was pretty small when she left,” Kerry said briskly.
“If you’d rather she didn’t come, Kerry, I think I can persuade her.”
“I have to tell you, poppet, I’m full of conflict. I don’t even understand myself.”
“It’s the way we’ve lived.” Toni sighed. “Good or bad, mothers are the centre of family life. Zoe met none of our needs, yet we were all compelled to love her. We can’t banish her from our lives or our minds.”
“No. I even wish I could look after her,” Kerry admitted. “You’ve taken enough on your shoulders.”
“I don’t think Cate would like that. Or any of them, for that matter. The simple solution would be for Zoe to make a life for herself. Preferably with a good, strong, understanding man who couldn’t be easily swayed.”
“And better yet has lots of money?” Kerry asked with a rueful smile.
“I’m sure that’s essential. Did I ever tell you Zoe is terrified of being poor? She’s even more terrified of being poor than she is of growing old.”
“She lacks moral character.�
�� Kerry’s expression was serious but not unkind.
“Well, she couldn’t learn from good example. Her mother took off, and her grandmother, as well as being frugal, lacked a lot of the womanly virtues.”
“Why did she never tell me any of this?” Kerry asked.
“You were openly disapproving of her, Kerry. Please don’t mind my saying it. You believed loving Zoe was a sign of disloyalty to Dad. I know how much you looked up to him. Everyone did.”
“You would have made a good psychiatrist,” Kerry said, “but even you wouldn’t know why he married her. She could never have measured up.”
“They were young! The temptation, Kerry. She was so beautiful and she craved love and support. Dad would have been a pushover. Anyway, marriages are very complex affairs, as you’ll find out yourself. Other people may have criticized our mother, but Dad never did. You know why? Because he loved her.”
“I suppose. Anyway, it’s wonderfully comforting to have you home. To sit down together to a good meal, a glass of wine, the table set so nicely, flowers and everything. I love having a woman about the place Women are so civilising.”
Toni was alone at the homestead a few days later when Castle Hill’s bright yellow helicopter landed on the front lawn. Kerry was away moving cattle. Toni didn’t expect him until sundown. She had taken lunch out to him, stayed for a sandwich and a cup of tea, then returned to the house. She had a few programs in place—general tidying up, cleaning out cupboards, getting the place ready for Cate, everything done with an ache in her heart. So many reminders of her father! She intended to do some baking, as well. Kerry was particularly fond of her fruitcake, and she had planned a sirloin roast for dinner. Kerry needed a bit of fattening up before the wedding.
Quickly she took the cake from the oven, set it on the counter and covered it with a clean tea towel. It could cool in the pan. In the hallway she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. Long skeins of hair hung on either side of her cheeks, breaking away from the blue silk scarf she wore at her nape. Her cheeks burned with excitement. By the time she reached the veranda the helicopter rotors had slowed and Byrne was descending onto the lawn.
Beresford's Bride Page 10
