The Cattle Baron's Bride

by Margaret Way

  "Man and a woman moving away," Ross muttered grimly. "They're heading back into the rain forest. Why? Surely not to the boat?" His face tightened as his nerves began to jangle. "They would have had the sense to stay put."

  "Y'd think so." Joe continued to track ahead, eyes scouting around, even his acute sense of smell coming into play. Towards the line of wild bush the sandy loam hardened, the whole area liberally carpeted with twigs, small and large stones, ankle deep fallen leaves.

  "No use wasting time talking." Ross muttered, fighting down an unfamiliar sense of panic. If anything had happened to her! He knew he would barely cope with that.

  David and Isabelle joined them, both looking ready for a search. "Looks like they've headed back to the boat," David said, his broad forehead pleated in a frown. "Why the hell would Matt allow it? For that matter Sam has too much common sense. To travel with a guide is one thing but Matt's no bushman. He can't even navigate around Sydney."

  "Joe and I will track them down. Don't worry," Ross assured him, feeling a great burden of responsibility.

  "Easier said than done, Ross. We'll come too," David was caught up in the general feeling of urgency though Samantha and Matt could wander back at any moment.

  To a hot reception he thought as relief inevitably turned to anger. "I've found my way through the jungles of Indonesia," he said, looking grim.

  "We can't just stand here," Isabelle said briskly, ranging herself alongside David. "You and Joe take one route, Ross. David and I will take another."

  "Co-ee if you find them," Ross instructed her, knowing she would do it anyway. "I can't believe Howarth would be fool enough to go back. And why? They were told to stay put. Anyway let's get cracking. We have to find them while there's sufficient light."

  Twenty minutes later he and Joe following signs they were trained to see caught up with Matt Howarth. He was staggering around in a circle, within a bamboo enclosure, obviously disoriented and weary to the bone. It wasn't until they were almost on him that they saw the bloodied caked mess on the side of his head.

  "For God's sake, Matt, what happened?" Puzzled, Ross moved swiftly, grasping him by the shoulder with fingers like steel. He wanted to yell what the hell did Howarth think he was doing, but with difficulty he restrained himself. Instead he studied the man's injury. It probably looked worse than it was but for some reason Howarth appeared barely recognisable as though his usual persona had vanished. "Where's Samantha? Where is she?" he asked urgently. "Speak up, man. We're worried sick."

  "Stupid bitch!" Matt startled them by saying. He was shivering like he had a fever, cursing incoherently to himself.

  Ross couldn't help himself. He rammed the other man against a tree, pinning him to it. "Did you have an argument? Is that it?" he asked fiercely. "Did she go back to the boat?"

  Matt braced himself as though expecting to be punched to a pulp. Sweat slicked his entire body. "Little fool hit me." He put a hand to his bulging temple, his hazel eyes dull as stones. "Struck me with a bloody rock."

  In the one hundred degree heat Ross's blood turned cold. He made a deep growling sound in his throat, battling a powerful rage. Samantha wouldn't have done such a thing unless Howarth had frightened her. Threatened her. His free hand clenched into a fist. The other continued to hold Howarth captive.

  Joe jumped a large fallen branch to get to his boss. "Steady, Ross, steady." He put a restraining hand on Ross's shoulder feeling the powerful waves of emotion that were running through his body. "Leave the bugger. Push him out of your mind. We're wasting time. We know Miss Samantha passed through here up to this point."

  Suddenly the wild bush looked forbidding and inaccessible. A barred prison to a young woman gently reared in the city. Ross stood rigid beneath the old aboriginal's calming hand. Slowly he pulled himself together. The red tide of rage receded. Every second counted.

  "Stay where you are," he snarled at the shaking Howarth in a voice that had to be obeyed without argument or question. "We've marked this spot. Don't move if you value your life."

  Matt broke into a spasm of wild laughter, sinking to the vine covered forest floor that was actually alive with insects.

  "We're going after Samantha," Ross spoke so harshly Matt's laughter ceased abruptly. "You'd better pray she's okay. If she isn't, I just could shoot you, you weak, snivelling coward."

  Matt lifted his head, his eyes strangely tragic. "Shoot me. You might as well."

  "You're not worth wasting a bullet on." Ross spat out.

  They all converged on the river bank within minutes of each other, their journey swift and hard in the oppressive heat.

  "No sign of anyone," David yelled. "No Sam. No Matt." He thought they must have missed them completely. God knows any set of tracks would be as good as indistinguishable with so much debris on the forest floor and the undergrowth beneath the forest canopy so thickly screened.

  "She's been through here," Joe muttered, knowing exactly how and where to look. "She's no fool. I reckon we'll find her on the boat."

  Ross let out a harsh pent up groan, dreading that she might have come to some harm. "Oh God, I hope so, Joe." He felt another terrifying spasm of rage. "If she is, she's going to get a good talking to. What the hell went on back there?" His blood burned and he turned away from his old friend abruptly.

  "We will see. We will see," Joe soothed him, knowing the terrible upset behind the words of anger. Ross Sunderland had finally found his woman.

  They all moved towards the jetty, silently praying Samantha would appear on the deck of the boat.

  "I think I'll kill Howarth if anything has happened to her." Ross shook his head with a feeling of impotence. "We found Howarth," he called across as the others drew near. "Jabbering to himself in the jungle. Almost incoherent."

  "What on earth happened?" David's tongue was like lead in his mouth.

  "Samantha must have run away from him." Ross turned, his light eyes blazing. "He pursued her. He's got an almighty lump on his head for his trouble. Apparently she hit him."

  David let out a great oath while Isabelle suddenly bent over as though in the sudden grip of severe pain.

  Already perturbed, David got an arm around her, supporting her slight weight. "Isabelle!" His voice was a dead give-away, betraying the depth of his feeling for her. "We travelled too quickly," he groaned. "Isabelle!"

  She managed to straighten just as Goldy appeared on deck.

  "She's here, she's here!" Goldy yelled, realising how distressed they all were. He waved his arms, beckoning them in. "Where's that bastard, Howarth?" he called. "That's what I want to know." Disgustedly Goldy spat on the deck.

  "If he's hurt her I'll feed him to the crocodiles," David promised.

  Hearing their voices Samantha struggled up from the bunk. She had to think. What could she say?

  Matt tried to rape her? Something less violent, knowing how they would react to that. Matt had tried to make love to her? Things were getting out of control so she hit him on the head? They wouldn't believe her. Why should they? She had seen the sick passion in Matt's eyes, his mad yearning for her that was almost a blood lust. He had been determined to have her no matter the consequences.

  Her hair was streaming all around her, little bits of twig and dried leaves were still caught in its web it was so thick. She had a red graze on her cheek, numerous little bleeding cuts on her arms from her flight through the forest, the beginnings of what would be a colourful black eye from when Matt had struck her.

  You've got to face them, Sammy. You are no way to blame.

  Grandad again. He'd always called her Sammy. Hadn't he shown her which way to run?

  When she made it on deck they all stared at her as though rooted to the spot.

  "My God!" Ross paled beneath his tan, a hard glitter in his eyes, his face a graven mask.

  "Oh, Sam," Isabelle who had been expecting something bad, nevertheless burst into heart broken tears, realising as only an abused woman could what Samantha had endured.


  "Samantha, sweetheart!" For a big man David closed the distance between them as nimbly as a cat. He drew his sister into his arms, hugging her thankfully to him. "You're okay? Tell me," he whispered, shutting his mind against the worst.

  "Yes, yes," she reassured him quickly. "A bit knocked about."

  "He's going to pay for this," he gritted. "How could I have taken such a viper into our midst?"

  Ross did his best to comfort his distraught sister. Belle had been so stoical right through her own tragedy, yet the sight of a battered Samantha had unleashed an uncontrollable tide of grief. A delayed reaction? Fellow feeling?

  Hearing Isabelle's pitifully sobbing, Samantha entirely forgot her own woes. Gently she broke away from David's embrace moving across the deck to her friend's side. "Belle, dear, I'm okay. Really I am." After one brief searing glance, Samantha averting her eyes from Ross standing on the other side of Isabelle, so tall and dauntingly remote. "I'm so sorry I gave you all such a fright." She put her arm comfortingly around Isabelle's narrow waist, herself upset by the misery that contorted Isabelle's beautiful features. "Come with me, Belle. We both need rest."

  Isabelle, still sobbing, went willingly.

  The men watched in silence for a while. "Well she's safe," Ross muttered finally.

  "Howarth still has to be dealt with," David said.

  His strongly hewn face took on a disquieting cast.

  "I'll go back for him," Ross said.

  "Risky the way you feel." David gave a grim smile.

  "I'll go with you, Boss," Joe, on the point of exhaustion, volunteered.

  "I'd rather you stay here, Joe," Ross said, gripping his old friend's arm. "I think you've done enough for one day."

  "No matter." Joe shook his snow white head.

  "If you're worried I might harm him in some way, I give you my word I won't. Or not much."

  "I'll come with you," David said decisively. "We can keep a brake on one another. Besides, you'll need another pair of strong hands, Ross. Sam's okay. I can tell. She always was a feisty little thing. It's Isabelle who appears to be in the greater pain."

  "I'll watch over them Boss," Joe promised. "I'll see they're both all right. You watch over yourselves, okay?"

  "S'truth! I need a drink," Goldy said hoarsely. "I hadn't counted on this. A beer for you, Joe?" Joe nodded. "I reckon."

  Ross and David swiftly exited the boat, pounding down the jetty. What it was to be young and strong as a bull buffalo, Joe thought. He'd been like that in the old days. He watched as they disappeared into the olive green line of wild scrub. Whether Howarth was going to cop a few punches or not Joe knew he wouldn't want to be in the sick bugger's shoes.

  Nothing was the same any more. That one ugly incident changed everything. They all returned to Darwin. Ross and David took charge of the disgraced but queerly unrepentant Matt Howarth, dropping him off at the hospital where he was subjected to a thorough physical and mental evaluation. On no account had Samantha wanted to press charges. Not for Matt's sake-he deserved no consideration-but for her brother's and her own. The story would inevitably make the newspapers. She couldn't have that. She wanted to blot the whole thing out. Matt would never come near her again. She prayed he would never harass another young woman but his fixation appeared to have been solely with her.

  As it turned out Matt had a medical record going way back. He had been diagnosed bipolar in his late teens, a diagnosis reaffirmed after he'd had his nervous breakdown. According to his own account he had been on and off his medication ever since, citing negative side effects he couldn't tolerate. The only problem was he had difficulty controlling his behaviour when off it. How he had sustained his injury-which Samantha was grateful had proved not all that serious-was skirted over. He had become disoriented in the bush, remembered falling over, crashing into something hard. Maybe a rock. In the absence of a conflicting account, his was accepted.

  David despite his intense anger and feelings of self blame waited around Darwin just long enough to see his flawed protege out of hospital, complete with medication and into a motel where he was left to get on with his own life.

  "So you never want to see me again. Is that it?" Matt, incredibly, appeared to think of himself as the victim.

  "Much better that way, Matt," David told him, keeping his face expressionless when so much anger, disappointment and disgust, was upon him. "You abused Samantha's trust. My trust. It could all have ended very badly only my gutsy sister was able to limit the damage. I wouldn't show my face around the Territory again. Get your things together and clear out. Take good advice. Stay on your medication. This is Sunderland's part of the world. No way has he forgiven you. In fact we've decided it's safer if he doesn't come near you. Come anywhere near Samantha again and you'll answer to us both."

  It was Joe who drove Isabelle and Samantha back to North Star while Ross and David turned the film already shot in for scanning and tied up a number of loose ends. No way could anyone pretend they had the same enthusiasm for the project. Matt's brutish behaviour had shocked them all. They needed to mark time for a while. Perhaps when David came back from Indonesia where he had a long-time commitment.

  A big perhaps!

  Samantha had the dismal feeling Ross would never consent to her joining another expedition. In fact it seemed like it was all over for them so withdrawn had he been in the wake of Matt's attack. No words of comfort for her. He couldn't be blaming her for what had happened.

  Isabelle had tried to console her. "How could you think such a thing, Samantha? I think it struck my brother hard, if anything had happened to you... !" She left the rest unsaid as though Samantha only had to open her eyes wide enough to see the reasons for Ross's seemingly perverse reactions.

  After almost a week the men returned home while Isabelle and Samantha, closer than sisters, ran together to greet them. Samantha went to her brother first who slipped an arm around her waist and hugged her. They had spoken daily, sometimes twice daily on the phone so she was up to date on everything that was happening.

  "Ross?" Finally she turned to him, her eyes searching his darkly handsome face.

  "Hi." He acknowledged her. No smile, but a piercing, comprehensive gaze, noting no doubt how quickly she had healed. "How are you?"

  "Fine."

  He nodded approval. They went forward to the front steps of the homestead.

  Behind them David reached out a long arm for Isabelle who seemed to float into what could only be interpreted as an embrace. He couldn't prevent himself. He kissed her cheek, inhaling the lovely natural fragrance of her skin and immediately drew back. This woman affected him like great music affected him. She touched his heart and his mind and his soul. "I didn't like to be away from you both," he told her quietly. "You were so terribly upset before we left. How are you now?"

  "Much better." She smiled up at him, recognising and accepting she loved this man. Whatever the outcome. It wasn't something she had asked for, or something she felt she deserved. It was Fate. Just having him beside her was enough. He was so powerful yet so gentle. She revelled in his bearing, so close to regal it didn't matter but absolutely natural. If only such a man had entered her life before Blair! If only... if only. The journey through life was paved with if onlys. But what an enormous difference that would have made. She would have been spared so many ugly experiences. She would have been able to act more openly. Often over the last few days she had come to the brink of telling Samantha of the brutality of her short marriage but at the last moment drawn back. Why heap all that on Samantha's graceful shoulders? Samantha was carrying her own burden and carrying it well.

  Without thinking Isabelle caught David's large handsome hand linking her fingers through his. He looked down at the beautiful face at his shoulder, drawing in a sharp breath. This one small gesture he found terribly important like a long awaited message. On a wave of elation he bent his tawny head over hers saying in a low, telling voice: "God, I've missed you."

  "I've missed you." She let out a
long fragmented sigh, the faintest flicker of fear could it possibly be? in her luminous upward glance. He couldn't understand it, but whatever it was it was unbearably moving.

  He lifted her slender fingers and kissed them gently. If there was a direct way to this woman's heart he was going to find it.

  They ate dinner in the breakfast room, carrying their steaming fragrant coffee out onto the rear terrace where the great copper moon of the tropics lit up the garden and illuminated the seating area with its attractive rattan furniture. David and Isabelle kept the conversation going. Ross from time to time joined in.

  The great talk of the Outback at that time was not just the death of a legendary Territory figure and cattle baron, Rigby Kingston, but the shock distribution of his will. All the Territory knew there were skeletons in the Kingston closet; Kingston's elder son and heir had been killed a decade or so before in a light aircraft crash which for a time had caused murmurs and it now came as a shock that Kingston's granddaughter Alexandra had been nominated chief beneficiary. Overnight she had become an heiress and a prime candidate for one of the most eligible young women in the country. Still it was impossible for most people to imagine a slip of a girl would be able to take over the running of a vast station like Moondai, much less want to if she was anything like her social butterfly of a mother.