Outback Fire

by Margaret Way

  Once at the cemetery, Storm lay her floral offerings first on her parents’ graves. They lay side by side. She moved a distance away, past her ancestors’ graves with their monumental headstones to where Luke’s parents had been laid to rest. Again side by side as husband and wife should be. The white bauhinia branches she lay on the graves of the women, the mothers. The multicoloured zinnias she strew over the graves of her father and Luke’s. How the lives of the two families had been intermingled. How could she possibly let Luke leave when his parents were here on Sanctuary Hill? It was unthinkable. All her life she had been afraid to trust. But it wasn’t too late. Dear God, don’t let it be too late. Storm bent her head and prayed with the greatest intensity she had known in her life. Prayed that Luke would be found safe and uninjured. She prayed all the old hurts would go away. The love she had for Luke couldn’t disappear into a void. She prayed for her family. She prayed for Luke’s family. Unwilling to leave this strangely peaceful spot, she was forced to seek shelter beneath the magnificent desert oak that grew near the entrance. Sanctuary Hill was surrounded on all sides by a tall wrought-iron fence with double wrought-iron gates hung from stone pillars to lock it in.

  Another scorching day and Luke was out there in the desert. Even with the shelter of the wing the heat would be intense. She knew he would be carrying that precious commodity water. None of them travelled any distance into the desert country without it. Worn-out by her sleepless night and the crushing weight of anxiety Storm allowed her lids to fall…

  A voice somewhere spoke her name. She was dreaming. It was Luke. The tears started up behind her shut eyelids. The bond between them was so strong he could reach her even in sleep.

  The hand moved from her wrist to her face, stroking, caressing, the voice repeating her name.

  “Storm…Storm!” So much love in it. Longing. Concern. Her splendid white knight.

  “Darling, everything’s all right. You can open your eyes. I’m here. I’m really here.”

  Maybe the dream was playing a cruel joke. He wasn’t really there. But strong arms reached for her. Flesh and bone. She was drawn to her feet. Those same arms locked themselves around her like they would never, never, let her go. Not even in eternity.

  She lifted her head and stared straight into Luke’s blazing blue eyes. They were all the more jewel-like because his eyes, like hers, glittered with tears.

  “Luke! Oh thank you, God!” She sagged against him overcome by relief and joy, unable to say any more because he lowered his head; kissed her with such a flame of passion it burned itself into her. “I couldn’t go on without you,” she told him emotionally when he allowed her breath. “I love you with all my heart.”

  “As I love you,” he answered immediately, voice vibrant with emotion. “I could never go away and leave you. I could never die without telling you, you’re all the magic, all the wonder in my life.”

  “Can you forgive me?” she beseeched him, touching his beloved face with a wondering hand.

  He shook his gleaming dark red head. “There’ll be no talk of forgiveness between us. The old days are past. What we’re going to talk about endlessly is our future. You and me. I want you to marry me, Storm. I want it as soon as it’s respectful to your father. I want you to be my wife, the mother of my children. I want us to be together in this life and the next. I want when the time comes, a long, long way off, we’ll lie here side by side. Maybe our daughter will come to cover us with blossoms. White as a bridal veil. Marry me, Storm. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  She hugged his lean body to her, her hands digging into his hard-muscled back. “I’ll marry you. I promise. I wish it were tomorrow but I think it must be April. April is a lovely month. Would you like an April bride?” she asked radiantly.

  He gathered her to him; held her right up to his heart. “April is perfect. Heaven. I can’t wait to see you in your bridal finery walking towards me.”

  EPILOGUE

  APRIL IN THE CHANNEL COUNTRY

  THE MIRACLE OF THE WILD FLOWERS

  THE BRANAGAN-McFARLANE WEDDING

  The Branagan-McFarlane wedding celebrated on historic Winding River Station received wide coverage in the press. It was an open secret the stunningly handsome bridegroom, the late Major Athol McFarlane’s protégé had received a half share in the famous station in recognition of his services to the family but that seemed neither here nor there when the bridegroom was to continue running the McFarlane operation as he had in the past. It was reported the happy couple was to make the station their home although the bride, an acclaimed jewellery designer would continue her career selling her beautiful pieces through favoured outlets.

  Three hundred guests had been invited to the wedding. They came from all over the country and overseas. A famous women’s magazine was allowed coverage on the understanding the substantial fee in the form of a cheque would be made out to the Sydney Children’s Hospital, a charity dear to the bride’s heart. Everyone who attended the wedding could speak of nothing else for months on end. The floodwaters the station had received during the Wet had receded leaving a wonderland of wildflowers on a gigantic scale. Flowers to the horizon! A total transformation of the desert landscape; millions and millions of everlastings holding up their pretty paper faces, white, yellow and pink, the fluffy flowered mulla-mulla, the crimson of the desert peas, the masses and masses of other wildflowers that traced their coloured embroidery across the vast land. It was a sight no guest, especially those who had never witnessed such a miracle, were likely to forget.

  And the homestead! Glorious! The bride had refurbished it. What exquisite taste! The wedding ceremony was held in the old ballroom where everyone got quite teary at the obvious love that bathed the happy couple in radiance. The beauty of the bride was a great talking point. Her gown was fabulous! Strapless with a romantic billowing skirt of ivory delustred satin, the hem and some twelve inches of the grand traditional skirt, like some primitively inspired piece of jewellery, were encrusted with various coloured beads, brilliants and crystals, in an amazingly beautiful aboriginal motif.

  The bride’s lustrous mane of dark hair was drawn back from the face but allowed to cascade down her back. She wore the traditional long bridal veil simply caught so as not to detract from the quite wonderful piece of jewellery she wore around her throat. A combination of stones her adoring bridegroom had found for her since childhood, sapphires and opals, mixed up with precious and semiprecious jewels. It was extraordinary and it added the drama quite in keeping with the bride’s vivid style of beauty. The bride had four attendants and two flower girls, twins. All of them looked lovely on the big day, the enchanting little girls modelling silk representations of the station’s wildflowers, as diadems on their golden curls.

  It was all so passionate, so rife with promise; the guests were quite carried away by the emotion of it all. The bridegroom was described at every turn as “simply smashing.” An understatement in the eyes of his deliriously happy bride.

  As one important family dowager was later heard to remark as she watched Luke and Storm whirling through their wedding waltz. “Those two are soul mates! Just look at the expression of love on their faces. It’s so transparent it gives me goose bumps. Mark my words—which everyone did—this is a marriage that will last!”

  She said it again at the family christening some eighteen months later. Storm and Luke gave a big party to celebrate the birth of their first child, the most gorgeous, the most adorable little girl child. The child had her father’s hair; perhaps a couple of shades more to rosy-red. At six weeks old she didn’t have the expected navy eyes. Emily’s eyes were a clear beautiful green. Could anything be more perfect?

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-8205-0

  OUTBACK FIRE

  First North American Publication 2001.

  Copyright © 2001 Margaret Way, Pty., Ltd.

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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  *Legends of the Outback miniseries