Heartbreak Homestead (Hearts of the Outback Book 2)

by Susanne Bellamy

  “Lizzy.” Trish entered the room and held the phone out. “Your phone was ringing. It’s someone from the Department of Children’s Services about Dan’s adoption. They want to arrange a time to interview both of you.”

  Lizzy’s cheeks paled and her tongue swept across her top lip. She took the phone and placed her thumb over the speaker. “I’ll try to put them off for a while. You’re in no fit state to make a good impression at the moment.”

  “Thanks for that vote of confidence.”

  “We’ve got to look like fit parents for Dan.” She schooled her expression before turning away. “Hi, this is Elizabeth Wilmot speaking. My aunt tells me you’re wanting to interview us?”

  While Lizzy negotiated, Alex listened to the rise and fall of her voice. To anyone who didn’t know her she was outwardly calm. But Alex could hear the anxiety beneath her measured words and precise tone. Fear that their high stakes charade would crumble and Dan would be taken from her.

  She thumbed the end call button and met his gaze. “I’ve bought us a little time. Once they heard you’d just come out of hospital, they were quite obliging. We have a whole week to prepare for their assessment visit.”

  “Big of them.”

  “Isn’t it. They’ll fly out to see us in our”—Lizzy sketched a pair of air quotes—“‘home environment’ next Thursday. They’ll assess everything, including us and our relationship.”

  “Isn’t that what you expected?”

  “Yes. Of course. But I want to be prepared for any question they ask. Before then I want to know all there is to know about you, Alexander Carter. You and your business. Start talking.”

  “Why focus on business? They’ll expect us to know more personal stuff about each other. Do I wear pyjamas? What’s my hat size? Do you know my birthday, Lizzy?”

  “First of August. You’re a Leo, which makes perfect sense. You wear boxers but prefer skin on skin, and there isn’t a hat big enough to fit.”

  He grinned. Tart and sassy answers meant his Lizzy was back. Although he still hadn’t winkled out why she’d closed him out so completely, it was a start.

  “Hmm, your answers could use some refining but I’ll let that last one go—for now. You wear baggy T-shirts when you go to bed that you can’t find when you get up, your birthday is April the fifth but I haven’t a clue what that makes you—”

  “Anxious. That’s what it makes me. I know nothing about your business even though we’ve got a business contract for your cattle.”

  “And we’re back where we started.” Whatever was bugging her was related to his company. And that was another step in the right direction but he’d find out more by answering her questions than teasing her. “I assume you read the appendix to the contract that outlined the company’s work and research. What else do you want to know about it?”

  “More personal stuff. Who started the company?”

  “My great-grandfather came out of the Depression with a sizeable herd. During the Second World War, he supplied the Australian armed forces with fresh and dried beef. His second wife was a scientist and, so the story goes, she proposed to him. She told him she was unable to have children but she’d help him improve his stock and build a cattle empire unrivalled in the state.”

  “Did they?”

  “Yes. At first she concentrated on a breeding programme but in the sixties, her focus switched to dietary variables. That’s the keystone of our research today. She was an amazing woman.”

  Lizzy tucked her legs up beside her and rested her chin in her hand. “Who carried on her research? Your father?”

  “Eventually. Despite the fact his step-grandmother never had a child of her own, she inspired and mentored bright young women who wanted to work in the field of genetics.”

  “Wasn’t that pretty radical back then?”

  “Probably. Dad said she wasn’t a woman to take no for an answer. Gender didn’t matter to her, only an insightful mind. One of her students married my grandfather and the two women ran the research side of the business together until my great-grandmother lost her sight. Even then, she had someone read the day’s notes to her. Dad reckons she was sharp as a tack to the day she died.”

  “Sounds like she was a remarkable woman. When did she die?”

  “1987. I was almost three.”

  “Do you remember her?”

  Alex looked at the painting on the wall opposite his armchair. The painted lake reminded him of his only memory of his great-grandmother. Unable to walk in the last months of her life, the family had taken her in a wheelchair to her favourite lake. “She asked me to give her a stone, a twig, and a cup of lake water. ‘Now, close your eyes and hold out your hand’ she told me and gave me each item in turn and asked me how I knew what I was holding. She was the reason I went into scientific research.”

  Lizzy smiled wistfully. “I wish I’d known even one of my grandparents but none of them were alive by the time I was born. I barely knew my mother before she—” Lizzy sniffed and looked away.

  “That’s lousy.”

  “I’m grateful Trish stayed in Mt Isa and lucky beyond belief that she adopted me after Mum died. She’s all the family I have now, her and little Dan.” Sadness and loss, and fearful anticipation ran through Lizzy’s words. But what she’d revealed surprised Alex. Tough and outspoken on the outside, her yearning for a family of her own explained her intense drive to care for her orphaned nephew.

  “Tell me about your mum.”

  Her eyes widened and in that moment, Alex saw loss and grief like he’d never experienced. Grief she’d wrapped up and carried inside for more than twenty years.

  The adoption had to succeed. He’d given Lizzy his promise and he never went back on his word.

  “We’ll make sure we nail that interview next week. On my word, they’ll see us as the best possible parents for Dan.”

  “Alex, is there anything—are you by any chance—?”

  Surprised to hear Lizzy tongue-tied, he rose and joined her. “Spit it out, Lizzy. Am I what?”

  Her gaze pinned him, direct and uncompromising. “Are you doing anything illegal? Anything that might stop me winning custody of Dan?”

  Alex froze. “You’re kidding me. Seriously, where did that come from?”

  Lizzy sprang to her feet. They faced one another like combatants in a boxing ring.

  “Dan is everything to me and I can’t risk—”

  “What did the detective say?”

  “Nothing. Don’t—I can’t—”

  “He told you not to talk to anyone, including me, didn’t he? Amy said you were upset after your interview with him.”

  Did Richards actually suspect him, or had Lizzy put the pieces of this jigsaw together and made a skewed picture of him? How much did the detective know and what did he suspect?

  “I can’t say anything. Just tell me, do I have anything to worry about when the DCS comes calling?”

  A hard lump settled in his stomach that had nothing to do with toxins working their way out of his system. The fire, the sabotage, him putting his life on hold for six months to help her. None of it mattered.

  Because Lizzy didn’t trust him.

  His jaw clenched as he turned away from her and walked to the door.

  “Alex?”

  He stopped in the doorway but couldn’t bear to look at her. Not until he’d got his anger and hurt under control. He flung words like stones over his shoulder. “Not a thing, Lizzy. You don’t have to worry about a thing.”

  Chapter Eleven

  “Alex?” Lizzy shaded her eyes as she looked into the yard, and wondered again how they were going to convince the DCS officer they were fit parents for Dan. They barely looked at one another directly and since their return to the homestead, Alex had kept a cool distance. Polite strangers interacted more than they had but then, she’d all but accused him of criminal activity. The look on his face when she’d asked that question—she knew she’d hurt him before his gaze shut her out behind a
mask of indifference.

  Stupid, but hindsight was a wonderful thing.

  Biting her lip, she opened the screen door and walked towards the machinery shed. Two weeks married and already they were living separate lives beneath the one roof. She hated it. Whatever it took, she would put their relationship back on an even keel before their interview. She had to. Finding the teasing goodwill they’d shared before her accusation would be a bonus but she wouldn’t hold her breath.

  She missed Alex’s smart quips and intelligent sense of humour. And God, she missed his body each night when she climbed into an empty bed.

  ‘I’ve moved my gear into the spare bedroom.’ The first night out of hospital at Trish’s place had set the pattern.

  ‘As you wish.’ He’d turned from her then and continued to sleep in the spare room since their return home. Did she really think he was engaged in criminal activity? Lying awake staring at the open bedroom door, her restless body yearned to cover the short distance to the spare room. She turned her face into her pillow and squeezed her eyes shut. But not even the moonless night could erase the image of his lean body beneath her hands, or his heavy-lidded gaze devouring her before he lowered his head between her thighs.

  Gasping in the grip of a surge of lust, Lizzy pressed her hand to her belly. She wanted her husband, needed him in a way that frightened her senseless. Six months he’d promised her. And then he’d be gone.

  I’m doing this for Dan. But was she? A tiny voice inside her head urged her to take a chance and see if the life she’d tasted all too briefly with Alex could become more. Five months remained.

  And now they’d squandered the best part of one of their precious weeks together. Why had she allowed the detective’s insinuation to blind her to what she knew about Alex?

  “Lizzy, are you okay?”

  His voice cut through her memory.

  Surprised to realise she was bent over, hands on her stomach, she dragged in a deep breath and straightened up. “I’m fine. Can we—talk when you have a spare moment?”

  Alex wiped his hands on a rag and strode across the yard.

  “Come inside.” As he slid an arm around her waist Alex’s hand grazed the bare skin between her shorts and the blouse knotted below her breasts. Calluses on the base of his fingers were rough against her soft skin and his grip tightened as he guided her towards the stairs and into the kitchen.

  Hard-pressed not to turn and rest her head on his shoulder, she groped for a chair and pulled it out with a scrape of wood on wood.

  “Here. Drink that.” He placed a glass of water on the table in front of her. Folding his arms across his chest he leaned against the pantry door. A spark of annoyance flickered and disappeared. The distance was of her own making and it was up to her to bridge it.

  She sipped the water. Over the rim of the glass she watched him watching her. “I’m fine. It was just—please sit down, Alex. I’ll get a kink in my neck looking up at you.”

  He pulled a chair out and swung it around and rested his arms along the curved ladder-back. A muscle tic beside his mouth caught her attention, the only sign of life in his neutral expression. Her gaze fixed on lips that had given her spectacular orgasms.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  Sex. With you. Now.

  She gulped a mouthful of water before she blurted out her desire, and lowered the glass. “I’m sorry for what I said at Trish’s house. I let doubt and supposition overcome what I know of you.”

  Frowning, Alex rubbed a thumb along his lower lip, setting her hormones dancing as she followed its path back and forth.

  “Please say something.”

  “Are you saying you’re sorry because we have a crucial interview coming up?”

  “I’m saying I was wrong and I apologise.”

  “Am I right in thinking I have Caleb Richards to thank for leading you up the wrong path?” One of the things he admired about Lizzy was her straight talking, no-nonsense attitude. Another was her honesty, brutal as it had been. Lizzy didn’t pull punches. Would she share what spooked her while he lay in a hospital bed?

  “I promised not to say anything and I won’t break my promise.”

  Alex locked his gaze with hers.

  Her eyes remained on his but a small smile appeared. “Caleb’s got a tough job, hasn’t he? Would you like a cuppa?” She got to her feet and filled the kettle, took down two mugs and turned to him. “Tea or coffee?”

  Subtle, she was, with a dash of devious. Alex silently applauded her ability to give him his answer without breaking her promise to Richards. Now he had a starting point. “Coffee, thanks.”

  While Lizzy made their drinks he considered his next move. Her apology had gone some way to soothing the angst her mistrust had caused. When had what she thought of him become important? He put the observation aside for the time being. “Just after Donna’s death I told Richards I don’t believe in coincidences. Do you?”

  Lizzy slid into the chair next to him and wrapped her hands around her mug. She tipped her head to the side. “No, and for the life of me I can’t see a connection between Jeb’s death, the fire, Donna’s suicide, and the contaminated water. What links them?”

  They drank their coffee and tossed ideas around but nothing made sense. Except the pleasure of sharing time untainted by anger and mistrust with Lizzy. As she brushed past him on her way to the pantry, the scent of her—sweet and musky—stirred his need. Their newly found camaraderie carried an edge of hunger that made him impatient to bury himself in her lush body.

  From the nursery, Dan’s gurgles morphed into grizzles and Lizzy pushed her chair back. “Once I’ve fed him, I’ll make a mind map on the computer. It helps me think.”

  “Good idea. When I’ve finished out in the shed, I’ll join you.”

  By the time Alex packed the last of his cleaned equipment into its box and turned off the light in the shed, the sun was setting in a blaze of orange and gold clouds. A mosquito buzzed around his head and followed him up the stairs. As he opened the door, the insect settled on his arm. He stopped to squash it before he turned to close the screen door. Away in the distance a glint of light drew his attention to the blackened end of the hay shed. He moved out of the spill of light over the back door and stood peering into the gathering darkness. Probably nothing more than the last rays of the sun reflecting off corrugated iron, but this time, he wasn’t taking a chance.

  He grabbed a torch from the drawer before sticking his head around the study door. Lizzy was seated at the desk, eyes on the screen and her foot gently bouncing Dan in his bouncer. She looked up at him.

  “Not sure if I saw something but I’m going to check around the hayshed. I think I saw a strange light.”

  “Shall we come with you?”

  “I wouldn’t. The mozzies are out and you two would be a feast for them. I’ll be back soon.” He picked up the keys for the quad bike on his way out. Ten minutes there and back meant more time with Lizzy and Dan. He’d wasted too many nights out of her bed. Tonight he’d make up for lost time.

  He pulled up near the south-western corner and switched on the torch. Its powerful beam swept in an arc, illuminating black streaks down the side of the shed and red dirt stretching away into the darkness. A quick check around the outside and a foray inside revealed nothing out of place.

  Convinced he was wrong, Alex climbed onto the machine and turned on the engine. As he made a slow turn away from the shed, the headlights reflected off a silver object half buried in the dirt. He pulled on the brake and put the bike into neutral before stooping to retrieve the item.

  His fingers closed around a buckle. Dirt clung in every crevice and, as he ran his thumb over the face, he could feel deep channels of engraving. Maybe it was nothing but he tucked the buckle into his shirt pocket and scanned the immediate area again. Finding nothing more, he headed home.

  As soon as he got in, Alex went into the laundry and scrubbed the buckle in the sink. Layers of caked on dirt fell away and reveal
ed a rodeo champion’s belt buckle. Angling it to the light, he tried to make out more details but it had been badly damaged. Whose had it been? Was the buckle relevant to the tragedy at ‘Craeborn’, or merely someone’s accidental loss?

  Alex shook his head and switched off the light. As he walked down the hallway, the aroma of curry tantalised his tastebuds and his stomach growled.

  Lizzy was singing to Dan in the kitchen, somewhat off-key and repetitive, but the tune entertained Dan who gurgled and kicked his legs, rocking his bouncer by himself. She sounded happier than she had since their—what had happened between them? It hadn’t been a disagreement like his parents occasionally had. Those meant nothing when two people knew each other so thoroughly.

  Lizzy’s accusation, her questioning of his integrity had struck at the heart of who he was. It shouldn’t have mattered, except that her good opinion and trust in him had come to mean more than their business agreement.

  Unbreachable, the silence of strangers had stretched between them.

  Until her apology.

  As Alex entered the room, she handed him a can of beer. “Dinner’s two minutes away. Did you find anything?”

  “I thought I heard a vehicle in the distance but couldn’t see signs of anything out of place in the shed. Do you recognise it?” He handed over the buckle and popped the ring pull on the beer can.

  Turning the buckle this way and that, she examined it closely before shaking her head. “I’ve never seen it before. Where did you find it?”

  “Half-buried a few metres from the back of the hayshed. It was pure chance I saw it. I thought it might have been Jeb’s.”

  Lizzy traced the edge with one finger and a wistful look settled on her face. “It’s sad but I know very little about my brother. If he was a rodeo champ, I never heard about it.” The timer beside her buzzed and she put the buckle gently on the windowsill and switched off the stove. “Are you very hungry?”