Читать книгу Outback Wife and Mother - Barbara Hannay - Страница 10

CHAPTER THREE

THE best laid plans of mice and men... The unwelcome quotation flashed through Ally’s mind again as it had on repeated occasions over recent weeks. But now, with Connor’s little hand clinging to hers as she crossed the steamy car park at Townsville airport, she refused to think of defeat. Together with Lucette, she had schemed and plotted so that this risky enterprise would run like clockwork and the journey was almost complete.

She’d been nervous about going to Sydney to meet Connor, but the few days she’d spent there getting to know the little boy had been delightful. They had enjoyed a trip to the beach and to Taronga Park Zoo, as well as some quiet times at his grandparents’ house. Then, to her relief, he had come with her and Lucette on the plane night to Townsville without objection. All that was left was the final leg—driving out to Wallaroo Downs.

And to Fletcher.

Ally shifted the weight of her large carry bag higher onto her shoulder and smiled at Connor, who looked back at her with trusting, big brown eyes.

‘This should be our vehicle,’ said Lucette, indicating a sturdy-looking station wagon in the line-up of hire cars. She pushed their heavily loaded luggage carrier the last few metres and clicked the central locking button on her key. ‘Hey, presto! Look, Connor,’ Lucette cried as she swung the car door open. ‘Magic doors!’

But Ally could feel Connor backing away, his hand in hers struggling to be freed.

‘No!’ he cried. ‘No! I don’t like that car!’ His little face contorted in fear as he tried to pull away.

Ally dropped to her knees and threw her arms around him.

‘No!’ he sobbed. ‘I don’t like that car!’ His voice rose in alarm, but he clung to Ally. She could feel his little body trembling and her heart nearly broke for him.

‘Oh, you poor darling,’ Ally murmured as she hugged him to her. She realised at once that his parents must have been driving a similar car when they were taken from him so horrifically.

Lucette hovered uncertainly near the luggage.

‘Sweetheart, look. I’ve got something to show you,’ Ally said as she dipped her hand into the large carry bag and drew out a soft toy she’d been keeping for such a moment.

The sobs subsided slightly. ‘What—what is it?’ Connor hiccupped, staring through his tears at the furry brown creature Ally held.

‘It’s a platypus, Connor. I had him made just for you.’ A plump little hand reached tentatively towards the ball of fur.

‘Plat-pus?’ he whispered.

‘That’s right,’ said Ally. ‘See, he has a fluffy tummy and a lovely black bill and four little black feet.’

Connor fingered one webbed foot, beautifully crafted from the finest black leather.

‘That’s amazing,’ exclaimed Lucette from behind them. ‘It’s so lifelike. Did you have it made at work?’

Ally nodded. ‘A few people owed me favours.’ She spoke to Connor. ‘Real platypuses live in creeks out in the bush. And that’s where we’re going. Uncle Fletcher lives there, too.’

‘Can I hold the plat-pus?’

‘Of course you can, darling. He’s yours to keep.’ Aware that Lucette was quietly loading their luggage into the back of the station wagon, Ally continued talking as Connor cuddled his new toy. ‘When I was a little girl, my favourite story was about a platypus called Shy. Would you like me to tell it to you?’

The little boy nodded solemnly, blinking away his tears.

‘Well let’s you, me and your platypus make ourselves comfortable in the back of the car here and I’ll tell you about Shy.’ Ally held her breath as she gently guided Connor towards the car door. He hesitated and turned to her.

‘Can I call my plat-pus Shy?’

‘Of course you can. It’s a lovely name, isn’t it,’ Ally reassured him, and he allowed himself to be buckled into his car seat without another murmur.

And as Ally began her story of the platypus family who lived in the riverbank, Lucette slipped into the driver’s seat and the car slowly edged out into the traffic.

Shy had been a big hit with Connor, Ally reflected hours later, as she sedately guided a gentle mare down a quiet bush track at Wallaroo Downs. One hurdle had been cleared, but a still higher one faced her. She had yet to discover how Fletcher would react when he returned from a day’s branding to find her already settled into his home.

Grateful for the shady protection of whispering casuarinas, she tried to shrug off her nervousness by focusing on the soothing sounds of the quiet bush; the steady clip, clop of Juno’s carefid,steps and the peaceful hum of cicadas in the trees around her.

No wonder Fletcher loved his outback. It was so remote, so alien in its stark, dry beauty—another world. Separated from Melbourne by thousands of kilometres, it was hard to believe she was still in the same country. On the drive inland from Townsville airport they’d travelled through heat and dust and past endless paddocks of brown, lifeless-looking stubble, but here, by the creek, it was cool and shady and perfectly serene.

Until... the afternoon peace was split by the sudden roar of a motorbike.

To Ally’s horror, her startled horse whinnied and reared, hooves striking at the air. Then, within breathless seconds, she felt the reins snatched from her trembling hands and a furious voice roared at her.

‘Alexandra? What the hell are you doing here?’

Panic Bared!

Common sense should have told her the danger was over. The dreadful motorbike’s engine had cut off, the mare was calming down and the bush was quickly returning to its former languid stillness. So she knew the wild thumping of her heart was an overreaction. There was no longer any excuse for her to crouch low against Juno’s neck with her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Except that she knew that voice.

She knew exactly who was bellowing at her and it was the very last person she wanted to meet until all her plans were in place.

He wasn’t supposed to be down here!

With trepidation, she lifted her head, blinked, and her stomach clenched. A fiercely scowling Fletcher stood within arm’s reach, Juno’s reins gripped tightly in one strong brown hand.

She found herself fighting a nervous urge to look away, yet she forced her eyes to hold Fletcher’s scalding gaze. Agitated as she was, she couldn’t stifle a swift glow of admiration. He was as rugged and tall, as wideshouldered and lean-limbed as the memory she had treasured these past weeks. And his eyes, piercing blue as ever, were a perfect match for the flashes of brilliant sky she glimpsed between the swamp bloodwoods behind him. But the smile, the special, heart-flipping grin, was missing. She had never known Fletcher not to smile at her!

This was nothing like the reception she had hoped for and pictured hundreds of times during the last few weeks. She manoeuvred her strained features into something resembling a smile.

‘Er...hello, Fletcher... I’m, um, I’m practising riding.’

‘I see.’ His clipped reply dropped unhelpfully into the space between them.

Ally shivered. It was then she noticed the trail bike he’d abandoned when she and Juno blundered onto his path, now slewed against an old tree stump a metre or so behind him. The realisation of her guilt sent her heart sinking further.

‘I’m sorry I nearly ran into you.’

The apology was clearly not accepted. Fletcher merely continued to glare at her in silent anger while her wretched eyes took in more details. His crow-black hair, his bare chest and shoulders all glistened with water and his jeans clung to his hips and thighs in dark, damp patches that blatantly outlined his flagrant masculinity.

‘You’ve been swimming?’ she stammered.

‘Yes,’ he replied. The briefest flicker of a smile twitched the corners of his mouth. ‘If you’d been a few minutes earlier, you would have found me in the creek.’

Heat stole into her cheeks. He would have been swimming naked. She had no doubt about that.

She whipped her eyes away from his damp lower region as he growled at her, without smiling. ‘I suppose it’s too much to ask for an explanation as to why you’ve suddenly appeared here, and just happen to be riding one of my horses without any invitation?’

‘I was planning to give you a very good explanation.’

‘Planning, Ally? Hell! You practically caused a serious accident.’

His hostility was enough to wither her tiny stock of courage even before she began to defend herself.

‘I said I’m sorry.’ Ally’s grey eyes blazed briefly, then her lashes lowered over them as she mumbled her excuse. ‘Your stockman said I could use this horse—that you were out branding somewhere. I didn’t know—’

‘You came over three thousand kilometres just to take in a little horse riding practice?’

She nearly lost her nerve there and then. Clearly he regarded her as an intruder—uninvited and unwanted. Tears gathered swiftly, burning the backs of her lids.

How could this happen? This was the man she loved! This was her Fletcher! He had come to the city and made exquisite love to her and changed her life forever. But now he had the audacity to glare at her with outright rejection clearly stamped in the firm set of his jaw, the frowning black stripe of his eyebrows and the whiteknuckled clench of his fists.

She took an agonising breath hoping to calm her frantic, self-defeating thoughts. ‘You’re surprised to see me,’ she whispered, and her wide eyes anxiously darted away from his unyielding gaze.

‘Surprise is one word I could choose, I guess,’ Fletcher drawled, his deep voice rumbling with sarcasm. But now he was staring back at her, hard. His eyes travelled—very deliberately—over her slim frame, her jeans and soft, white shirt buttoned low over a pale lavender crop top. They rested for the longest time on her pale face. ‘What are you doing here?’ he repeated, his voice less harsh this time, as if he had run out of breath suddenly.

‘I—I’ve—Your cousin and I have brought your little godson—Connor.’ The words tumbled out of control like beads spilling from a broken necklace.

Fletcher scowled. ‘You came with Lucette?’

‘Yes. You’re his guardian now...’

‘I know damn well I’m his guardian, but what I still don’t understand is what you’ve got to do with it?’

‘Well, Lucette was looking for a nanny for Connor so that you...’

‘You’re sidetracking,’ Fletcher snapped. ‘Get to the Point.,

‘Well, the point is,’ resumed Ally, running her tongue nervously over parched lips. ‘I’m his nanny.’

‘What?’

Startled, Ally watched as the colour in Fletcher’s face deepened and then leached away while, with the worst sense of timing, a kookaburra broke into raucous laughter in a gum tree overhanging the track.

‘Hell, Ally! You can’t be!’

‘I’ve had some training as a nanny,’ she offered tentatively, then began to chew the inside of her cheek while her fingers nervously played with the horse’s mane.

‘Damn it to hell! Of all the crazy...!’ He studied her through narrowed eyes. ‘How much?’

‘How much what?’ she repeated lamely.

‘How much training have you done to be a nanny for heaven’s sake?’

‘That’s how I put myself through Art College—working as a nanny for...’

Interrupting her with a fierce curse, Fletcher tossed the reins back over Juno’s neck before striding across the track away from her, shaking his head, clearly unimpressed, quite obviously more angry than ever.