by Margaret Way
“Storm, how wonderful to see you!” Carla rushed forward to greet her, a tall athletic young woman with short dark curly hair, lovely golden-brown eyes, clear golden skin and a shapely figure. The whole thing added up to a very attractive package indeed. “You’ve got thin!”
“Do you think so?” Both of them kissed air. Storm knew from way back Carla had never been one of her fans. Of course it all had to do with Luke. How ironic! “I was a bridesmaid yesterday. I had to make sure I was able to fit into the dress.” In fact she maintained her light weight and still managed to eat sensibly.
Luke, too, scored a kiss. This time not the air but right on his clean-cut mouth, Carla’s lips parted and clinging. She found she couldn’t look to see how Luke was reacting. In fact the sight for some inexplicable reason came like a tremendous shock. It served to remind her just how complicated her relationship with Luke was.
Carla drew back, her golden-brown eyes dancing. She linked her arm through Luke’s. “Let’s go back to the house and have lunch. I bet you’re starving.”
Storm answered quickly, too quickly. “That would be lovely, Carla, but Dad will be expecting us.”
“He won’t begrudge us an hour, surely?” Carla asked with high good humour not relinquishing her hold on Luke. “Besides Mum and I have everything prepared. Just cold meats and salad. Nothing fancy. Dad and the boys are coming in. They just love to see Luke. And they’ll be thrilled to see you, too, Storm. Jason has never forgiven you for getting engaged to someone else.”
As though she’d ever looked sideways at Jason Prentice.
“All right, Storm?” Luke’s eyes held hers a moment, allowing her to make the decision.
She couldn’t be anything else but gracious. “Fine, Carla, you’ve gone to so much trouble. It will be nice to see the family again, but I wouldn’t like to delay too long. I’ve been so busy lately my visits home have become precious.”
“Wonderful, then that’s settled!” Carla turned a sparkling face to Luke’s. “You’ve left me on my lonesome too long,” she said decidedly provocatively. “Amy and Wes Richards are all set up to give a big party in a fortnight’s time. Coming along?”
“Well I’ve been invited.” Luke smiled. “I’ll be trying to make it. It all depends what goes on back home.”
Home!
It was said so simply, Storm thought. Luke had staked his claim.
Mingari homestead, though it couldn’t vie with the grandness of Winding River’s homestead, nevertheless had its own charm. A large colonial-style building painted white with dark green shutters and a green corrugated iron roof, had been added to over the decades so that it rambled over a considerable area. Station horses grazed in a paddock nearby, and a kangaroo with a joey in its pouch hopped leisurely away into the lightly timbered grounds dotted with flowering bauhinias, as they swept up the drive.
Karen Prentice was waiting for them on the wide verandah, still so slim and attractive she looked more like Carla’s sister than her mother. Both women had their sights firmly set on Luke. Carla in hopes of a husband. Karen doing her best to help her daughter. Neither of them was about to give up and it wasn’t as though they hadn’t been trying hard. Storm on the other hand was just a mite tricky; the Major’s only daughter but not a great favourite. Storm had gained the impression for reasons of their own both women considered she offered some threat to their plans. At any rate courtesy prevailed, even if the smiles wore a bit thin.
Clive Prentice and his fine-looking sons, Jason and Daniel duly arrived and the greetings began all over again. The conversation sparkled with camaraderie, the men shaking hands; Luke came in for some back-slapping. Storm thereafter became the object of Jason’s exclusive attentions, which she found idiotic. Eventually they went into lunch served on the very pleasant plant-filled rear patio. More lavish than Carla had suggested, there were platters of thickly sliced ham, turkey and cold roast beef accompanied by two superb salads, one Greek, one Thai, a creamy red and white cabbage coleslaw, the Prentice men particularly liked, with plenty of warm crusty loaves fresh from the oven flavoured with goat’s cheese, potato and rosemary. White wine was offered; the men drank a couple of cold beers, no more. There was work to be done. Storm declined the wine, her head was aching enough.
“Why you’ve scarcely eaten a thing!” Carla waited her moment to call attention to Storm’s half-eaten plate, as though it offered clear evidence of anorexia.
“What I had was delicious, thank you.” Storm set down her knife and fork. “You must forgive me but I have a headache.”
“I expect you got up incredibly early,” Carla said, her attractive face a picture of sympathy.
“I can’t remember a time when I didn’t,” Storm laughed. “The wedding I attended went on into the small hours. I stayed until after one. I had to. I was the chief bridesmaid.”
“I bet you looked absolutely beautiful,” Jason drooled, the expression on his face suggesting he was visualizing the scene.
“The bride looked better,” Storm replied. Sara really had looked radiant.
Although it appeared very much like the family was hoping they’d stay longer, it was Luke who came to Storm’s rescue, gently refusing coffee. “Many thanks for your hospitality.” He swept them all with his marvellous white smile. “That was a great pick-me-up but we mustn’t keep the Major waiting any longer.”
“I’ll drive you back to the plane,” Carla offered, springing up to hold his hand.
“By the way, Luke.” Clive Prentice, a good-looking heavy-set man stood up. “I’ve been racking my brain to try and remember that Argentinean rancher’s name. The guy the Major invited out about eighteen months ago. A great polo player.”
“Otero,” Luke replied. “Richard Otero. A really nice guy. What made you think of him?”
Storm didn’t catch the answer. Karen Prentice returned from the house with a couple of painkillers and a glass of water. “Here, Storm, swallow these down,” she urged. “You should have told me at the outset about your headache, my dear.”
“It’s not all that bad.” Storm took the tablets gratefully. “Thank you, Karen.”
Karen nodded, waiting while Storm swallowed the tablets. “Tell me, dear, how long are you staying this time?” she asked, just barely disguising the fact she hoped it wouldn’t be more than a week.
“That depends on how Dad is. He keeps such a lot to himself but Luke thought I should come home.”
Karen raised her nicely marked brows. “He flew all the way into Sydney for you?”
“Dad’s plane, Karen. Dad wanted him to.”
“Of course,” Karen backed off. “We’re all so proud of you. You always were such a gifted girl when Carla hated boarding school. I know the Major misses you dreadfully but I’m sure he realises you must live in Sydney for your work.”
“Actually I could work anywhere,” Storm said, prompted into a touch of perversity, “and sell through a gallery or certain jewellers. A lot of my work these days is commissions.”
“You mean you might consider coming home for good?” Karen looked pained then mustered a smile.
“As I said, Karen, that all depends on Dad,” Storm reminded her gently.
Why did Carla and her mother have such trouble understanding she had no designs on Luke nor he on her? They were quite incompatible.
When they landed on Winding River she was surprised and touched to see quite a few of the station staff had turned out to greet her. Stockmen, some of whom she had known all of her life, the new jackeroos, station wives with little children, friends from the aboriginal community. Storm walked down the line shaking everyone’s hand and bestowing a kiss on each and every child. One new baby had arrived in her absence but she was glad she had remembered to send a card and some useful things for the layette. It was such a delight buying for a baby that she had gone a touch overboard but the young mother, Kalle, now thanked her gratefully holding up her adorable child for Storm’s sweet kiss. These were the moments Storm found so
rewarding. The knowledge that people on the station really cared about her and loved to see her home. The thought exhilarated her and set her free of her slight depression. The headache had disappeared as well.
When she and Luke walked up onto the verandah of the homestead, Noni rushed out, her arms outstretched. “Hello, hello, hello, darling girl!”
“Noni!” She embraced the woman who had been her support during many a fractious time.
“Your dad is waiting for you in the conservatory,” Noni said happily. “He’s a bit emotional with all the excitement. Hi there, Luke.” Noni beamed, looking past Storm to the striking young man lounging back against a pillar quietly watching. Elegant and full of energy. That was Luke. It was quite a combination.
“Hi, Noni.” He returned the smile lazily. “We stopped off at Mingari—I had some freight to unload. Karen invited us to lunch.”
“Nice of her and so difficult to get out of,” Storm supplied. “I hope Dad wasn’t getting impatient?”
“Just a bit!” Noni admitted, studying Storm with pleasure. Everything ran very smoothly as long as everything fitted into the Major’s schedule. “So you won’t want a cup of tea?”
“I never say no to a cup of tea, Noni,” Storm laughed. “Still black with a slice of lemon.”
“Well I must go.” Luke uncrossed his arms, preparatory to moving off. “There’s always something that needs attention.” He stood on the top step.
Noni drew a hasty breath. “I think the Major is expecting you, too, Luke,” she said, thinking the Major could have received Storm on her own. Just this once.
“Another time, Noni,” Luke said with a faint note of wonderment. “I’m sure he’ll want to see Storm on her own.”
“Not true.” Storm’s green eyes swept him ironically. “Why should this visit be different to any others? You’d better come, Luke. We both toe the line.”
“If that’s what it is,” he replied, his chiselled mouth tight. “Please tell the Major I need to catch up.”
“Of course,” Storm answered smoothly. It was wrong of her but she couldn’t stop. “When its all’s said and done Dad is really at your mercy.”
“Storm, love.” Noni tried to intervene, taking a few small steps to come between them.
It lessened the tension a shade. “So long!” Luke’s handsome features were taut as he walked off.
“That didn’t help, love.” Noni turned back at this beautiful, beautiful girl who often tore her heart out. “Luke is such a good man.”
A bitter-sweet smile played around Storm’s lovely mouth. “He’s everything a man should be. Not sarcasm. Really,” she answered without a trace of humour. “Give me a minute to freshen up then I’ll come down. How is Dad today?” She took Noni’s arm as they walked into the entrance hall. “Luke told me you’re both worried about him.”
Noni sighed. “I’d say he’s in constant pain now but he never talks about it, never complains. You’re going to be the best medicine any doctor could order up.”
Storm gave the housekeeper a little hug, a glint in her eye. “You flatter me, Noni,” she said. “Dad had two children. Didn’t you know that?”
Athol McFarlane stood up the minute his daughter entered the room. “Storm, darling,” he said, his expression so charged with feeling it was fierce.
“Daddy!” Storm went to him, her green eyes filling with tears of sadness and guilt. Only four months yet her father seemed to have aged ten years. Not the work of time. The work of pain. The piercing grey eyes looked sunken and bruised, harsh lines were etched into his tanned skin, his once powerful frame gaunt and thin.
“It’s so good to have you home.” He hugged her as though he never wanted to let her go. Something that opened Storm’s heart until he said, “Where’s Luke?”
Storm drew back, trying to recover her emotional balance. “He’s gone back to work. He’s concerned about losing time. He likes to keep on top of things.”
“I wanted him to be here.” McFarlane frowned, obviously put out.
“Aren’t I enough, Dad?” she asked quietly, smiling a little.
“Storm!” It was a cry from the heart even as he refused to see he had created a wall between them. “You’re more than enough, but I thought Luke should join us. Sit down, darling. Tell me what you’ve been doing?” He winced as he resumed his seat in a high-backed leather armchair with a rest for his feet.
“Perhaps you’d better tell me what you’ve been doing first?” Storm drew her chair closer to him. “You don’t look well, Dad.” A serious understatement but knowing her father she couldn’t overstate it. “What does the doctor have to say?”
Her father didn’t rise to that. “The same old thing. I’m wearing out. The leg gives me gip from time to time.”
“Perhaps I should speak to Tom myself?” She didn’t say she already had. Several times. “Would you mind?”
Her father’s mouth compressed. “It’s the worst possible thing you could do. I’ll keep you informed.”
“But you wanted me home, Dad,” Storm persisted gently. “That must mean something?”
His dark bushy eyebrows drew together. “I don’t think it’s so unusual for a man to want to see his only daughter surely?”
“Only child.”
He didn’t attempt to study her meaning. “I’ve told you many times, Storm, I’d build you a studio. Outfit it with everything you want. Convert rooms in the house if you like. I don’t expect you to stay with me all the time. You could fly off any time you liked for a week or so. Take a break. See your friends. Have a good time. I need you here, Storm. It’s as simple as that.”
There was a tremor in his stern voice now that further upset her. “Something is wrong, Dad. Why won’t you confide in me?”
“Would it make any difference if I did?” he asked abruptly, brushing at his nose as if at an irritant.
“It would make a big difference,” Storm said, succeeding in preventing her own voice turning cold. “I love you, Dad.”
“You say it as though I doubted it,” McFarlane calmed down, folding his large hands in front of him, his expression turning pensive. “But if you love me, Storm, you wouldn’t go away.”
Slowly she shook her dark head. “Don’t do this, Dad,” she begged quietly. “I have a career. I’m a success. I have a life.”
“Your life is here!” Suddenly anger flared.
“I don’t see it that way, Dad.” Storm had never been one to be intimidated. She wasn’t now but she was shaken by her father’s appearance. “Please don’t let’s argue. I’ve only just arrived home.”
But his anger hadn’t completely vanished. “How long do you propose to stay?”
“As long as I can.”
Her father moved restlessly, his shoulders slumped. “Where did you say Luke was?”
The headache that had disappeared began to throb. “What has Luke got to do with this, Dad?” Her voice gentled in entreaty. “I’m your own flesh and blood.”
“Now that sounds familiar.” McFarlane raised his head to give her a half amused, half impatient look. “Dammit, girl, I’ve never understood why you’re so jealous of Luke.”
Storm rubbed her temples. “I have no defence, Dad. I just am.”
“But that’s just plain perverse,” McFarlane burst out. “He’s such a splendid young man,” he continued, looking puzzled. “You two should have been the closest friends. I’ve seen the young men you’ve invited here over the years. The fiancés. God they couldn’t hold a candle to Luke,” he said with open contempt.
She tried not to bridle. It was pointless anyway. “But then I was in love with them, Dad. Or I thought I was.”
His answer was a wry snort. “I can’t tell you how relieved I was when you finally came to your senses. It’s time you got married, Storm. But to the right man.”
“Who is?” Her gaze was direct and challenging. No wonder people whispered, she thought. No wonder Carla looked at her with suspicion.
McFarlane br
ushed a hand across his thick thatch of hair, a temporising gesture. “A man you can give your whole heart to,” he offered. “A man you can respect and admire. A strong man, Storm,” he added with humour. “One who can keep you in line.”
“You think women need keeping in line?” She gave him a little, crooked smile.
“By and large they do. Especially you. You’ve always fought the least suggestion of authority.”
She felt a twinge of guilt. “So I did. But I’m not here to fight you, Dad. I’m here to offer comfort.” She leaned forward and took her father’s hand. “It’s like I said. I love you.”
“I love you, too, darling.” He stopped abruptly. There were tears in his eyes.
Tears from her father! It shocked Storm so much she jumped up and hugged him, letting her cheek rest against the top of his head. “Dad, Dad,” she crooned.
Her father patted her hand, his voice soft and unless she was paranoid, a shade triumphant. “Make sure Luke knows to come up to dinner,” he said. “It will be wonderful, the three of us together.”
Falls the shadow.
There was sadness in her eyes but Storm made a supreme effort to answer cheerfully. “Sure, Dad. I’d like to go for a ride this afternoon. I’ll tell him then.”
Noni arrived with the tea, freshly baked cookies and some little almond tarts, well pleased when Storm and the Major asked her to sit down and join them.
The atmosphere immediately lightened. Noni had that enviable effect on people, Storm thought. She sat back, beginning to entertain them both with an account of the wedding; her most recent showing; her sales to a couple of very-much-in-the-news society women, plus a wealth of light, amusing gossip. She wished it were always so simple to make her father laugh.
