Читать книгу The Mirrabrook Marriage - Barbara Hannay - Страница 7

SARAH ROSSITER loved Southern Cross.

She was never happier than when she was riding over rust-red plains on a strong and beautiful horse. She loved to look up to a cobalt-blue sky billowing above her like an enormous mainsail and to hear the thud of thousands of hooves pounding through thick creamy-gold kangaroo grass.

Most of all she loved to be on a cattle muster with Reid McKinnon, working the mob with him, steering the cattle out of the stands of black-trunked ironbarks and pushing them across the Star Valley towards the holding yards.

And yet, working with Reid was exactly what she shouldn’t be doing.

This year she’d actually made a solemn pledge to decline politely if he invited her to join in another muster. Heaven knew she had plenty of good excuses. As the sole teacher in charge of all seven year levels at Mirrabrook’s tiny primary school, she had enough on her plate without giving up precious weekends to help out with cattle.

But Reid had driven into town late one afternoon, just as she was closing up the classroom. With his thumbs hooked through the loops of his jeans, he’d hitched a lean hip against the railing of the little school’s wooden veranda and he’d flashed that shiver-gorgeous smile of his and had asked ever so casually if she would be free for a muster the following weekend. And she’d said yes.

Just like that. No hesitation. She’d looked into his silver-grey eyes and her brain had gone straight into meltdown. Again.

‘Yes, Reid, sure I can help. I’d love to.’

Fool.

Later, she’d tried to justify her weakness. She told herself that she’d only agreed to help Reid because his sister Annie was still away in Italy and his brother Kane had moved over to Lacey Downs with his new English bride, which left Southern Cross shorthanded. But she knew jolly well that Reid could manage without her. He would almost certainly be hiring contract musterers to make up the numbers.

Reid had suggested that Sarah was invaluable because she knew the country so well; she could comb the bush for stray cattle without getting lost. But that wasn’t why she’d come. Truth was, it didn’t really matter what reasons he offered, she would have agreed to help out under any circumstances. Sarah was weak as water where Reid was concerned. She had been that way for the past ten years.

Ten years. Ouch! It was so scary to think that she’d wasted a decade of her life, from the age of seventeen to twenty-seven—the years when a young woman was supposed to be at her most beautiful and alluring—waiting for Reid McKinnon to come to his senses and acknowledge that he loved her.

Although…if she was fair and completely honest, she would admit that those ten years hadn’t been a total waste of time…more like a very long, progressively steep learning curve.

But the end result was her painful realisation that what had begun as a wonderful friendship and had blossomed into a beautiful romance between herself and Reid hadn’t stood the test of time.

Something had gone wrong. Something irrevocable. Something that seemed to have hurt Reid terribly.

Whatever had happened, it was so deeply painful that he’d never been able to explain it to her, even though there had been times when she’d been certain he wanted to tell her. She hadn’t pushed him for answers because she’d sensed that challenging him would have made things worse and be distressing for them both. Her strategy had been to accept second best—Reid’s friendship instead of his love—in the hope that he just needed time.

And here she was, taking part in yet another cattle muster on Southern Cross, simply because Reid had invited her.

A sudden shout ahead caught her attention. Reid was signalling with a wave of his Akubra hat that it was time to close in on the herd and to keep them compact. This meant that the leading cattle must be within sight of the yards now.

Panicking cattle often tried to break away as they neared the gate, so it was time to forget her foolish heartache and to concentrate on the job at hand. Time for the cattle dogs to show their mettle, working extra hard as they edged the mob forward.

Reid would man the gate, while the two ringers positioned themselves on either side. Sarah’s role was to stay at the rear of the herd, ready to round up any breakaways.

Over the backs of the sea of cattle, she watched the effortless grace with which Reid dismounted, an action as natural as breathing for a man of the outback. Once he was on the ground she could only see a shoulder-high view of him—of his battered Akubra and his blue shirt straining over hard-packed muscles as he tethered his horse. Then she heard the rattle of the gate being opened.

Keeping her horse on the move, she weaved back and forth, nudging the stragglers to stay with the mob. Only when everything seemed to be proceeding smoothly did she let her thoughts roll forward to what would happen next, after this muster.

Reid would invite her up to the homestead to join him and the ringers for an evening meal. But should she accept this time as she had every other time?

It was always pleasant to stop off at the homestead to take a shower and rid herself of layers of dust before heading back into town to her own little house. And it was more than pleasant to spend a couple of hours in Reid’s company, sharing a meal and conversation, a drink or two and a laugh or three. But these days it was bittersweet torment too.

Surely she’d put herself through that kind of misery one time too many. At some point very soon she would have to—

A flash of tan to her right cut through her thoughts. A beast had turned and bolted and now others were following. And she’d been caught napping.

To Sarah’s shame her mount, Jenny, a well-trained stock horse, reacted before she did. Darn. Once again she’d let Reid McKinnon mess with her head and now her pride was at stake. No jillaroo worth her salt let cattle escape at this final stage of a muster.

Precious seconds late, she pressed her knees into Jenny’s flanks and crouched low in the saddle as the horse took off after the escapees.

More by good luck than good management she caught up with the leader before the breakaways reached the heavy timbers. Then it was a matter of thinking and acting quickly. Turning her horse in an instant, she drew on all her riding skills to change direction often and fast until at last she’d rounded them up.

To her relief the cattle gave in and trotted obediently back towards the main mob. And Sarah refused to give Reid McKinnon another moment’s thought until the last beast was fenced in.

The sun was slipping westward by the time the job was done. The ringers stayed down at the yards, making sure the cattle were calm and, as the last of the coppery light lingered, Sarah and Reid walked the four horses up to the saddling enclosure.

There they removed the saddles and washed the horses’ backs and gave them a small feed of grain. Sarah concentrated on giving the animals the very best attention and she tried hard not to take any special notice of Reid working nearby.

Tried not to watch the neat way his well-worn faded jeans hugged his behind as he bent down to examine one of the horses’ shoes. Tried not to steal glimpses of his muscular forearms or his strong tanned hands as they stroked a horse’s neck. Especially, she tried not to remember how those hands had once caressed her intimately, bringing her the piercing sweet pleasure of a lover’s touch.

No! she chastised herself. She had to get over it and get over him!

Shaking her head at her own hopelessness, she hurried to stow the saddles in the tack room. Why couldn’t she just accept that Reid wasn’t interested in her?

For him, their past had never happened; they had never been uninhibited, ecstatic, totally smitten lovers.

Under the guise of friendship, he’d continued to partner her to local balls and charity dos that raised money for the Flying Doctors, or the School of the Air. Every so often he would amble in to town to buy her a coffee at Beryl’s café, or a drink at the pub. And on odd occasions he called in at her place on the way home from a day’s fishing on the river and delivered a fish or two. He’d even filleted them and cooked them for her.

And she had been pathetically grateful for whatever crumbs of friendship he threw her way.

Problem was—and for Sarah it was a huge problem—her major stumbling block—there were other times when she was just as certain that Reid was still attracted to her—deeply.

There were times when he’d taken her home from a ball or a party and they’d said goodnight and she’d sensed a terrible tension between them. Times when Reid had looked at her—looked at her—with a breath-robbing mixture of despair and longing that was impossible to misinterpret.

But he hadn’t kissed her. He’d always covered the awkward moment with a joke and then turned quickly and hurried back to his vehicle.

Those moments had caused her too many sleepless nights.

Now, as she stepped back through the tack room doorway, Reid turned and he looked straight towards her and he seemed to freeze. He stood rock still in the middle of the yard, staring at her.

It was happening again.

That hunger in his eyes wasn’t a fantasy conjured by her overwrought imagination. The feverish heat and dark longing were real. And her poor heart felt as if it had taken off for the moon.

Deep colour stained Reid’s cheekbones. His chest rose and fell as if he’d suddenly run out of breath and his face was a mirror of the same deep yearning she felt for him.

The sight of it unleashed a terrible tumult inside her. The usual tumult. Each time this happened it trapped her afresh. Each time she hoped that this time Reid would haul her into his arms and show her with his body what he couldn’t tell her. Show her the truth…that he loved her still.

This time…

It had to happen. Had to be this time.

They couldn’t go on like this. It was hopeless.

Hopeless…

Hopeless. The hollow, desolate word echoed and clanged in her head.

Perhaps it was that empty echo or perhaps it was the effect of the afternoon sunlight, gilding Reid with a bronzed glow that made him more unbearably handsome than ever. Whatever the reason, Sarah suddenly knew that this had to be a turning point.

A man who looked at a woman with that kind of hunger should push her against a wall and kiss her for a week. He should grab her and haul her down into the hay bales in the corner of the yard. She wouldn’t allow Reid to look at her as if he wanted to make love to her and dismiss the moment with another grin, another joke.

If he did…she had no choice; she would walk away from him today and not come back. She would leave the district—apply for a transfer and take a teaching post in another part of the state. Reclaim her life.

Her heart thumped painfully as she watched him stoop to pick up his saddle. She didn’t move as he began to stride across the yard towards her and she couldn’t help running her tongue over her lips to rid them of dust.

His eyes followed the movement and hungry shadows darkened his silver irises. He drew close and she held her breath.

Just toss that saddle aside and kiss me, Reid. I’m yours. You know I’ve always been yours.

A breathless hush seemed to fall over the bush as he stopped in front of her. It was so quiet she could hear the pounding rhythm of her blood drumming in her veins.

He stopped so close in front of her that she could see the individual grains of skin on his strong jaw and the tiny pinprick beginnings of his dark beard.

This is your last chance, Reid.

Behind him, one of the horses made a soft snuffling snort.

The sound seemed to break the spell. Reid’s mouth tilted into a lopsided smile.

And Sarah’s heart sank straight through the hard-packed dirt of the horse yard.

‘You’ve got a leaf caught in your hair,’ he said, reaching with his free hand to pluck something from a dark strand that hung over her shoulder.

She closed her eyes and her chest squeezed the breath from her lungs as his hand brushed close to her cheek without quite touching. She felt the flick of his fingers against her hair and the brush of his wrist on her shoulder, but when she dared to open her eyes again he was moving past her to set the saddle inside the tack room.

She knew that when he returned the dark emotion in his eyes would be replaced by a milder light and he would be smiling easily.

But no.

When he stepped outside he paused again, standing beside her, staring with an intensity that made her tremble. She felt ill. If it didn’t happen now, it never would.

Muscles in his throat worked and he looked away. ‘We’d better go up to the homestead.’

Beside him Sarah had to reach for the door frame to steady herself. She felt so drained she couldn’t even cry.

Reid frowned. ‘You’re coming up to the house, aren’t you, Sarah?’

She tried to swallow the clump of awful emotion in her throat. ‘I don’t think I will today, thanks.’

His eyes pierced her with a sharp, searching wariness. ‘Don’t you want to sample our new cook’s fare? He’s very good.’

She shrugged in an effort to hide the storm breaking inside her. ‘I still have some marking to do and lessons to prepare for next week.’ Before she could weaken, she set off across the yard. ‘Catch you later, Reid.’

He didn’t respond.

She told herself that it was a good sign; she’d shocked him. But when she reached the gate and turned to wave goodbye she caught a glimpse of his stricken face as he stared at the ground, and his clear disappointment gave her no sense of satisfaction. None at all.

‘You’re leaving town?’ Ned Dyson, the editor of Mirrabrook’s tiny newspaper, couldn’t have looked more appalled if Sarah had announced she’d contracted smallpox.

‘I’m afraid so, Ned. I’ve applied to the Education Department for a transfer to the coast. I’m well overdue for a change, so I’m pretty confident they’ll let me go.’

Ned groaned and threw his arms into the air in a melodramatic gesture of despair. Next moment he launched himself out of his swivel chair, circuited his paper-strewn desk and came to a halt in front of Sarah. Pushing his glasses back up his ski slope nose, he stared at her as if he needed to look into her eyes before he’d believe her.

‘Do you really want to go? After all this time?’

She nodded. She was determined to go through with this. She had to.

Ned let out a noisy sigh and propped his hands on his hips. ‘The town’s going to take this hard, Sarah.’

‘I suppose they might, but that’s only because I’ve been here for too long and everyone’s so used to me.’

‘It’s more than that. We’ll never get another teacher who loves the kids the way you do.’

‘Of course you will.’

‘And what about your agony aunt column?’ Ned raked a pudgy hand over his bald patch and his eyes bulged with horror. ‘Geez, Sarah, I’ve Buckley’s chance of finding anyone who can hand out advice the way you do. You’ve got such a knack. The whole district hangs on to your every word.’

But now it’s time for me to take my own advice.

‘What I write is just common sense, Ned. You know that.’

‘But you always manage to make people feel so good about themselves—even when they’ve made stupid mistakes.’ Ned flung out his arms. ‘You’re a flaming genius. Most people around here think I hire someone from down south to answer their letters, some hotshot psychologist in the big smoke.’

‘That’s not because I’m any kind of genius; it’s because they want to believe the advice is coming from an expert. We both know they’d be devastated if they discovered the woman who taught their kids was Ask Auntie.’

‘Doesn’t matter. You’re damn good.’

Sarah dropped her gaze to avoid the pleading in Ned’s eyes. Nothing about her move away was going to be easy. For starters, she didn’t really want to go. It would be a wrench to turn her back on her little school; she would miss her seventeen pupils terribly. She loved every one of them—even the naughty ones—especially the naughty ones.

And she knew the Mirrabrook townsfolk would be sorry to lose her; she’d become so much a part of their lives, but if she was going to reclaim her life she had to make a clean break from Reid.

‘It’s time for me to go, Ned. It’s been a hard decision, but in the end I—I don’t have much choice.’

He frowned and looked as if he was waiting for an explanation. When she didn’t offer any he asked, ‘What about Reid? What’s he had to say?’

It was weird the way people who knew her well still thought of Reid as her boyfriend. In this town they were still Sarah-and-Reid—a proper courting couple who were probably going to be married some day. How could anyone miss the glaringly obvious truth?

She managed a half-hearted smile and shrugged. ‘Reid’s cool.’ Then, before Ned could comment, she rushed to ask, ‘Did you get the Ask Auntie responses I emailed through to you for this week?’

‘Yeah, thanks. I haven’t had a chance to read them yet, but I’m sure they’re okay.’ He cast an eye over the mess of papers on his desk, then grimaced and patted his paunch as if he had indigestion. ‘The paper’s circulation is going to drop when you go.’

‘Don’t panic just yet, Ned. You’ve time to think about a replacement. I won’t be going till the end of the school term.’

He brightened a little. ‘That means you’ll still be here for Annie McKinnon’s wedding?’

‘Yes.’ Flinching inwardly, Sarah forced a smile as she remembered the excited phone call she’d received a couple of months earlier from Annie in Rome. She summoned a deep, calming breath to still the awful jealousy she felt every time she thought about Annie’s wedding. Why had both Kane and Annie McKinnon taken to the idea of marriage like ducks to the Star River, while Reid…?

No, she wouldn’t waste another thought in that direction. ‘Annie’s asked me to be a bridesmaid.’

Ned grinned. ‘That’s great. You’ll be a terrific bridesmaid.’

‘I won’t be the only bridesmaid, of course. Annie has a couple of friends in Brisbane she’s asked to do the honours, too.’

Ned beamed. ‘Better and better. I’ll bet they’re good sorts.’ He rubbed his hands together as if he’d just been struck by a brilliant idea. ‘I reckon a McKinnon wedding is a big enough stir in this little valley to make the front page of the Mirrabrook Star, don’t you?’

‘I reckon it is, Ned.’ Sarah tried for another smile but couldn’t quite manage it.

Later that evening, Sarah took a pad and pencil through to her study, a converted back bedroom in her little house beside the school in Mirrabrook’s main street. It was a little old Queenslander cottage, the standard design built forty years ago by the Education Department and she’d made it her own little haven.

Over the years she’d collected a modest assortment of antiques, handicrafts and artwork, including a handmade quilt on a wall in her lounge room, North Queensland pottery vases filled with native flowers, a bed with antique brass ends covered by a white hand-crocheted bedspread, and a couple of original paintings.

Sarah loved to surround herself with beautiful things. They lifted her spirits. Most of the time.

She doubted anything would cheer her tonight. It was time to make a list of all the things she wanted to take with her when she moved.

But she’d barely started before she found herself surrounded by memories, and suddenly the task seemed much harder than it should have been. Just looking at the cork board above her desk brought painful waves of nostalgia.

Every photo, every memo or scrap of paper with lines from a song was a poignant link to a significant memory. Good grief, there was even the programme from the last Speech Night she’d attended at boarding school.

That was the night she’d met Reid. When she was just seventeen.

Reaching up now, she pulled out the drawing pin that secured the programme to the board. It had been there so long it left a rusty ring around the pinprick.

She should have taken it down ages ago of course. The fact that it was still there was a very obvious symptom of her pathetic reluctance to let go of hopeless dreams.

Bending down to toss it in the basket under her desk, she hesitated. Big mistake. In spite of her resolve to forget, memories rushed back.

And, heaven help her, she let them…Suddenly she wanted to remember it all…just one more time.

Sinking into her deep swivel chair, she let the memories come.