Argentinian in the Outback & Cattle Rancher, Secret Son: Argentinian in the OutbackCattle Rancher, Secret Son

by Margaret Way

  His mother didn’t know about Gina unless his aunt Lorinda had told her. Lorinda had sworn she wouldn’t. Lorinda, his mother’s only sibling, had helped him in a remarkable way back then. He was very grateful to her for her kindness and empathy. She always had been enormously supportive. It had to be true about Kym’s really caring for him. They were still friends, despite everything. Or maybe Kym was just hanging in there until such time he realised she really was his best choice. Maybe compatibility could be made to work. Obsession, after all, was a disaster. He gave a small shake of his head, warding his visions off. How could a man keep a woman’s image burning bright when it was all of four years since her desertion? He had taken Gina’s betrayal not just hard. It had near crushed the life out of him when up to then he had shown no fear of anything.

  He had hated her at first. He had thought hate was a way out. But hate hadn’t worked. Having loved her, he found it was less corrosive to hate himself. That’s when he had allowed himself to become engaged to Kym, convincing himself Kym was the path to healing. That hadn’t worked, either. It was just as impossible to remove Gina from his bloodstream as live without a heart.

  He was passing his father’s study when Meredith called to him, “Got a minute, Cal?”

  “Sure.” He walked into the room, his eyes ranging over her face. Usually his sister had a welcoming smile for him, but this afternoon she looked serious, even sad.

  “Hey, there, what’s up?” His voice echoed his concern. Meredith was three years his junior. They were the best of friends. In fact, he would have to think really hard to remember a cross word between them. Their isolated upbringing had forged strong personal loyalties between them. He had always looked out for his little sister, though, like all the McKendricks, Meredith had grown tall with the slim, lithe build of the athlete she was.

  She was a marvellous horsewoman. She had won many cups and ribbons over the years, nearly as many as he had but no one had thought to display them as they did his. Once when they were kids, he had pinned her ribbons and rosettes all over her and taken pictures of her, both on and off her horse. He had hung on to those early photographs, too. The best one he’d had enlarged and framed. It sat on the desk in his bedroom along with a few other family portraits of them both. Great shots all of them.

  He had to admit all his family were exceptionally good-looking. Genes were responsible for that. Meredith was beautiful but she made no effort to play up her looks. Rather she seemed to work at playing them down. She wore no make-up, just sunscreen and a touch of lipstick, jeans, neat little cotton shirts, her rich brown hair bleached gold at the temples by the sun, pulled back into a section of thick plait that ended in a loose ponytail. Even without her making the slightest effort, men turned to look at her.

  There were lots of things he wished for his sister—a fuller, more rewarding life, a man she could love and who loved her, marriage, children, but none of this was happening. For either of them. His father had frightened most of Meredith’s serious suitors off. Their dad could be a very intimidating man. Although, it wasn’t as if Meredith was the apple of his eye as anyone might expect with an only daughter. Meredith came well down the line when she should have been right up there. But that’s the way it was. Nothing he nor Meredith could do about it. He was eternally grateful she had never blamed him. There had been no sibling rivalry, no wrenching jealousy. It had been bred into Meredith that sons, not daughters, were the ones who counted. As for suitors, most guys knew not to apply unless they could come up to scratch, and McKendricks’ scratch was a very hard call.

  “Take a look at this,” Meredith was saying, breaking into his reverie. She laid a sheet of newspaper flat on the massive partner’s desk, smoothing the crumpled surface. Such graceful hands, he thought, but regretfully getting knocked about with hard work. His sister did a lot more than pull her weight. She handled most things so quietly and effortlessly her capabilities tended to be overlooked or at the very least taken for granted. Meredith was not only beautiful but she had brains to spare. She would make some lucky guy a brilliant partner.

  “What is it?” He rounded the desk, to stand beside her, topping her easily. “Oh, my God!” He felt the ground open up beneath his feet… .

  Watching him keenly, Meredith’s face filled with anxiety. “Look, I’m sorry if I’ve done the wrong thing, Cal. But something inside told me you’d want to see this.”

  Physically and mentally reeling, he still managed to put a reassuring hand on her arm. “That’s okay, I do.”

  “I thought so,” Meredith breathed more easily. “You really loved her, didn’t you?” She glanced at her brother’s strong profile, registering his shock, and the way the muscles had bunched along his strong jawline.

  “It’s been a job trying to hate her,” he answered, trying to control the grating harshness of his tone. He stared down at the beautiful unsmiling face of the girl in the newspaper photograph. “I always knew this day would come.”

  “I think I did, too,” Meredith murmured quietly.

  “How did you get a hold of it?” He glanced at the top of the page, seeing it was a Queensland newspaper. The State of Queensland adjoined the Northern Territory. They didn’t take this newspaper.

  “It came wrapped around some supplies Dad ordered,” she said. “I almost screwed it up and threw it away. Something stopped me.” Meredith paused, involuntary tears welling into her deep blue eyes. “She’s still as beautiful as ever. More so now she’s a woman. The first time I saw her back on the island I thought she looked like a very young Roman goddess. Full of grace, but there she was beavering away as a domestic. She had such a look about her.”

  “Enough to stop your breath.” His mouth had turned so dry it was difficult to speak.

  “I so liked her,” Meredith lamented, even now wondering how she could have been so mistaken in Gina. “She seemed as beautiful inside as out.”

  “Error of judgement,” he said with a humourless laugh. “I just couldn’t believe it when Lorinda told me Gina had gone.” Cal made a big effort to shove the old agony away. “She didn’t even bother to give notice. She just took off.”

  Meredith recalled it well, her own shock and dismay, as Cal continued speaking. “The odd thing was Management didn’t seem perturbed about it, when anyone would have thought they would be angry at the way she’d left them in the lurch. I could never figure it out.”

  “Aunt Lorinda would have had a private word with them,” Meredith said quietly, “or her pal did. Ian Haig owned the island. Still does. Obviously to avoid further upsetting you, they dropped it.”

  “I guess so,” Cal said, nodding. How did one learn to shut down on images that persisted? In his mind’s eye, he saw Gina lying back on the white sand, the sea breeze all around them, him bending over her, ready to claim that lovely, moulded mouth. “We’ve been there, Mere.” He sighed. “No one is going to take the ground from under my feet again. No point in going over it. Whatever the full story, Lorinda tried to help in any way she could.”

  “Not much use, was she?”

  Cal’s mahogany head, sun-streaked like his sister’s, jerked towards her in surprise. “What is that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, she could have persuaded Gina to at least attempt to explain herself to you,” Meredith said. “I would have, but Gina didn’t confide in me. As for Aunt Lorinda, I haven’t exactly forgiven her for interfering in my pitiful fling with Jake Ellory.”

  Cal grunted, “Ellory wasn’t half good enough for you, Mere.” He lay a sympathetic hand on her shoulder.

  “Okay.” She had to acknowledge that. “Point is I was able to see that for myself. I know Aunt Lorinda means well. She dotes on you, always has. She’s very nice to me, too, but she’s a master manipulator just like Mum. They’re as thick as thieves. The facts were she was all in favour of Kym. Kym was the blue-eyed girl. G
ina was the seductress. I guess we’re never going to know exactly what happened. I could have sworn Gina was as madly in love with you as you were with her. The feeling that was generated between you two turned the air electric!”

  “That wasn’t electricity, my dear, that was hot air,” Cal said flatly, his handsome features grown taut. “Gina didn’t have the guts to tell me what she told Lorinda. What she had going was a great holiday fling. The reality was, she already had her serious boyfriend back home. Italian descent just like her. Marrying him was obviously very important in her family.”

  Meredith could accept that as true. Italian and Greek communities were very close. “Well, it was a sad, sad business. That’s all I can say. But how does someone who readily puts her life on the line for a child act in a spineless manner? It doesn’t make sense. Look at her face. It’s not just a beautiful face, it’s a brave face. I’m not surprised she did something like this. I can see her doing it, can’t you? Why then didn’t she try to explain herself? Why did she allow herself to get in so deep in the first place, given she was virtually promised to someone else? Perhaps she was frightened of her dad? I got the impression from something she let drop, he was super strict. I know all about strict dads.”

  Cal, re-reading the article, turned his remarkable gaze back on her.

  A McKendrick in every other respect, the height, the splendid physique, the handsomely chiselled features, Cal had inherited his emerald-green eyes from their mother. Devil-green, one of Meredith’s girlfriends called them, always trying to capture Cal’s attention with her bold, sexy glances.

  “I’m going after her,” he announced.

  “You are?” Somehow that didn’t shock her. She even wondered if she hadn’t deliberately set it up. She could have thrown away the article. Instead she had kept it for him. Was it possible this time he and Gina could make it work? Gina’s wedding plans with her Italian boyfriend hadn’t come off, it seemed.

  “You bet!” Cal rasped, radiating determination. “How come she didn’t marry that guy? It says here, Gina Romano.” He stabbed the paper with a tanned forefinger. “That’s her maiden name, not Gina Falconi, or Marente or whatever. Another guy she left with a broken heart. She’s still unmarried. I want to know why.” Cal threw up his head, unable to control the thoughts of revenge.

  Meredith made no attempt to dissuade him. Cal had the bit between his teeth. When Cal decided to do something, it was done and pretty damned quick. She knew Gina had broken his heart. She knew he had been trying to forget her ever since. He deserved the chance to find out once and for all if Gina Romano simply wasn’t worth all his pain. Cal was approaching thirty. He had to move on. Their parents were desperate for him to get married. They needed Cal to produce an heir, give them their first grandchild. Needless to say they would be hoping for a boy.

  “What are you going to tell Mum and Dad?” she asked. “You run the station. You can’t just vanish.”

  “I’m going to tell ’em I’m in need of a short break,” he answered tersely. “Steve can hold the fort while I’m gone. He’s well capable of it. He carries his old man’s genes, even if Lancaster won’t acknowledge him.” Everyone in the Outback knew Gavin Lancaster, Channel Country cattle baron, was Steve Lockhart’s biological father. Steve might as well have had Lancaster stamped on his forehead. “Even Dad concedes Steve has turned out just fine when initially he was against taking him on. Didn’t want to get on the wrong side of Lancaster I suppose. Lancaster’s one mean man.”

  Meredith’s expression was wry. “They call Dad a son of a bitch behind his back,” she reminded him.

  “Maybe. But he’s not mean. Mostly he’s generous. Steve is shaping up to be the best overseer we’ve ever had. Had he been granted a bit of Lancaster money he could have bought a property of his own and worked it up.”

  “Well, that’s not going to happen,” Meredith spoke briskly, hoping the heat she felt in her veins didn’t show in her cheeks. “Gavin Lancaster will go to his grave refusing to acknowledge Steve. One wonders why. His wife is dead. His other son doesn’t measure up from all accounts. One can only feel sorry for him. Ah, well!” Meredith threw the issue off with a shrug. Usually she kept her thoughts about Steve Lockhart under wraps. She had learned the hard way to feign indifference to any man who attracted her, a man, moreover, who was a McKendrick employee and Gavin Lancaster’s illegitimate son to boot. As far as her parents were concerned there was a huge gulf between family and staff. She found life easier if she kept up a pretence. No one was to know what went on inside her.

  “I’ll take this,” Cal was saying, folding the sheet of newspaper so it fitted into the back pocket of his jeans.

  “Be my guest. I suppose this just could be a mistake, Cal,” she offered gently, feeling a sudden obligation to warn this brother she so loved and respected.

  “That’s just a chance I’m going to have to take.” Cal started to move off, his stride swift and purposeful. At the door he turned to give her his heart-stopping smile. It was a smile Meredith shared, though she wasn’t fully aware of it.

  “It’s been four years?”

  “It only seems like yesterday.”

  Meredith blinked rapidly at the expression in his eyes. She knew the struggle he was having trying to keep his passionate emotions in check. The newspaper clipping had come as a revelation. “What are you going to do when you find her?” She realised she actually wanted Gina Romano back in their lives. Her memories of Gina were of a beautiful young woman strong but gentle with a great sense of humour and highly intelligent. The sort of young woman she would have treasured as a friend. She knew she couldn’t speak for her mother and father. She had the sinking feeling they would be strongly against someone like Gina. Gina wasn’t a PLU. It was the snob thing, PLU meaning People Like Us.

  Cal took a moment to reply. “I’m going to demand she tell me to my face why she lied.”

  The words were delivered with chilling force.

  CHAPTER TWO

  GINA parked outside “Aunt” Rosa’s modest bungalow made beautiful by the garden Rosa lavished such love and attention on. Taking the myriad scents of the garden deep into her lungs, Gina walked slowly up the stone-paved path to the front porch decorated with flower-filled hanging baskets. When Rosa had bought the bungalow three years back, Gina had helped greatly with the clean-up operation, cajoling a few of her sturdy male friends to join in, especially when it came to hauling in the rocks Rosa had used as natural features. In those days there was no garden, a few straggly plants, but Rosa had turned the allotment into a private garden paradise. The stone paths led through a wealth of flowering shrubs, camellias, azaleas, peonies, hydrangeas, through cascading archways of roses, all strongly fragrant, the floribunda wisteria, “Alba,” and groves of lush ferns. There was always something happening in Rosa’s garden, something to lift the heart.

  Rosa was her godmother, her mother’s bridesmaid at her first disastrous marriage which had produced Sandro and her. The great tragedy of her life was the disappearance of Sandro, her brother. Two years her senior, he had run off at the age of sixteen after a violent argument with their father, the most difficult and demanding of men. Sandro had not only run off, he had vanished from the face of the earth. How did one do that? Gina had asked herself that question countless times. How did one lose one’s identity? How did one go about obtaining a driving licence? What about credit cards, a Medicare card? Could Sandro be dead? Something inside her told her no, though he had never contacted her or their mother to tell her he was safe, not a single phone call or a postcard. His disappearance had almost killed their mother and caused her, his loving sister, deep grief that continued right up to the present day.

  Rosa knew all about her family’s deeply troubled past. Rosa had been there. “One day, cara, Sandro will return to us. You’ll see. It was just that he could no longer live with you
r father.” What Rosa felt Gina’s father to be was always delivered in impassioned Italian. Rosa was a woman of volatile temperament.

  Yet their father had worshipped her, his daughter. She could do no wrong. She was his shining star. She might have been marked down for future canonisation. “My beautiful Gianina!” Until the night she confessed she was pregnant. Then her virgin image had been well and truly shattered.

  Rosa had always kept in touch with her. Indeed, Rosa had offered to take her in, after her father had literally thrown her, the fallen idol, out. It had truly been the never-darken-my-door-again situation she had hitherto thought only existed in novels. But the last thing she had wanted was to bring down trouble on Rosa’s head even though her godmother had sworn she could handle the likes of Ugo Romano.

  “He’s a great big bully, you know!”

  When Primo, Rosa’s husband, died at the early age of fifty-four Rosa sold the old sugar farm and travelled to Brisbane to be near her goddaughter. Rosa, a warm, generous woman had not been blessed with children, a great sorrow to her. “Poor Primo, he couldn’t manage it.” Otherwise Primo had been a good, good man. Everyone in the community had agreed on that.

  “Someone has to look after you!” Rosa announced when she arrived on Gina’s doorstep, followed by a torrent of curses aimed at Gina’s father. At least one of them must have worked because Gina’s father barely eighteen months later had bounced off a country road, the old farm utility turning over a few times before landing in a ditch killing him in the process.

  “God has spoken,” Rosa, never short of an explanation, pronounced at the funeral. “Now everyone is safe. My poor Lucia, maybe, might find herself another husband. One to cherish her. I see Vince Gambaro over there.”

  Gina’s mother, Lucia, was pardoned by both her daughter and Rosa. Though desperately unhappy in her arranged marriage, she had been too cowed by her husband to leave him though the friends who cared for her had begged her to do so.