Читать книгу Perfect Proposals Collection - Lynne Marshall - Страница 33

THE weather had warmed up considerably three months after Jo’s first arrival on Kin Can. She got up one morning and she dressed in khaki shorts, a pink blouse and slipped on sandals. Gavin had risen before the crack of dawn to supervise a muster.

She reviewed her plans for the day as she and Rosie ate breakfast. They were going to work on the doll’s house they were building together. Not that it was a doll’s house in anything but concept. Rosie had no time for dolls so this was a miniature shearing shed complete with sheep, since Rosie had adopted an orphan lamb to add to her menagerie of a puppy, a pony and a tame cockatoo.

It was going well, Jo thought suddenly, her elevation to motherhood. Not only that, she was enjoying it. She’d persisted with her plan to take things slowly and not force a motherly presence on Rosie and it was working.

One of her worries had been that Rosie might resent having to share her father with someone else, particularly a wife. It was all very well to yearn for a mother, but at six, and never having had one, all the implications could come as something of a shock, she’d reasoned.

But Rosie had shown hardly any signs of that. She threw herself whole-heartedly into all the things they did together, swimming, drawing, reading, as well as being out and about on the property. She’d begun to consult Jo on what to wear, she’d started to confide in Jo about her friends and Jo’s suggestion that they build a miniature sheep shed had been a winner.

On the odd occasion when Jo did detect that Rosie longed for her father’s undivided attention, she took herself off to draw, leaving the two of them together, sometimes for a whole day.

Rosie had always been completely restored when she’d returned.

The truth was, she mused, the little girl was twining herself more and more into her heartstrings, and there came, one day, a sign that the same was happening to Rosie—the day they ganged up on Gavin, as he put it.

It started over the orphan lamb. Rosie smuggled it into her bedroom, where it made a considerable mess in the traditional manner of infants, not to mention sheep.

Mrs Harper was so horrified that, despite being a fan of Rosie’s, she made mention of the matter to the ‘boss’.

The lamb was banished, Rosie was distraught and accused her father of being cruel and horrible. When the fact was pointed out to her that not even her puppy was allowed in the house, she stamped her foot and told Gavin that was cruel and horrible too, and now she really hated him!

Jo went quietly away at this stage and consulted Case. That afternoon a prefabricated enclosure and rather large kennel made its appearance in the garden below Rosie’s bedroom.

Jo took both Gavin and Rosie to see it before dinner and she made the suggestion that the lamb and the puppy, on the strict understanding that neither could be let into the house, might cohabit happily in the garden, close to Rosie’s room.

Before Gavin had a chance to say yes or no, Rosie flung her arms around Jo and told her, with real affection, she was the best mum a kid could have. Jo hugged her back and discovered that to see Rosie restored gave her a lovely warm feeling.

Gavin, observing all this, said at last, ‘I see.’

‘What do you see, Daddy?’ Rosie trilled. ‘Isn’t it a smashing idea?’

‘I see that the two women in my life have ganged up on me,’ he said with unusual solemnity.

Rosie slipped her hand into Jo’s. ‘But we do love you,’ she assured him. ‘Can I go and get them now?’

He nodded and his daughter raced off.

Gavin looked into Jo’s eyes.

She grimaced. ‘Sorry, but…’ She shrugged.

He took her hand this time. ‘It’s going well?’ he suggested.

She relaxed. ‘It’s going well.’

He kissed her. ‘You’ve been wonderful,’ he said as he drew away, ‘but you do realize that either the puppy is going to grow up thinking it’s a sheep or the lamb is going to grow up thinking it’s a dog?’

Jo started to laugh.

A few days later, Rosie mentioned that she was looking forward to having babies.

Jo and Mrs Harper exchanged startled glances.

‘I don’t know about brothers,’ Rosie continued. ‘My friend Julia’s little brother is terribly naughty but I wouldn’t mind a sister.’

Both Jo and Mrs Harper hid relieved smiles.

Jo came back to the present and went on reviewing her day. Before she did anything else, she would have her weekly conference with Mrs Harper where they discussed what entertaining was upcoming, what needed to be ordered in and the like. Running such a large establishment was quite complex, Jo had discovered, and she would have been quite happy to leave it all to the super-efficient housekeeper had it not been for Adele.

She’d flown in not long after Jo, Rosie and Gavin had got back from the Gold Coast, when Gavin had to leave again to attend a board meeting in Sydney. And she’d been quite adamant that Jo should learn all the ins and outs of Kin Can from the lady-in-charge’s perspective.

Of course the Hastings men liked to think they were the ultimate authority, she’d informed Jo, but much of the responsibility for the smooth running of the place would fall on her, she would find.

During the next few days Jo had had to agree with her and she’d come to admire Adele’s touch with the families who lived on the station, the household staff and how she’d gone out of her way to make their lives on a vast sheep station, in the middle of nowhere virtually, as pleasant as possible.

She’d initiated a sewing circle, a book club and she’d started a video library. She suggested to Jo that she might like to give art classes. She’d made it quite clear that Kin Can was a show-piece of the wool industry and needed to be maintained as such for the buyers of wool and rams who came from all over the world to visit.

She’d also impressed upon Jo that even when your neighbours were as far-flung as they were in this part of the world, a sense of community was vital.

‘So you see, my dear,’ she finished, ‘it’s important for you to get involved and to put your own stamp on things.’ A glint of humour lit her eyes. ‘Not only for the good of the station, but you yourself. Otherwise there are times when a sheep station can drive you crazy.’

Jo laughed. ‘So far I’m loving it. There’s so much space and freedom.’

‘Good,’ Adele approved. ‘Any time you need a helping hand, just give me a call.’

‘How—’ Jo hesitated ‘—are your marriage plans going? I was only thinking the other day that I felt a bit guilty about Gavin and I rather overshadowing everything else.’

Adele grimaced. ‘I’m having second thoughts.’

‘Because of what Gavin might have said to you about—’ She broke off a little awkwardly.

‘Gold-diggers? Fortune hunters? Lonely widows?’ Adele heaved a sigh. ‘It’s awfully complicated when there’s a lot of money involved,’ she said sadly. ‘But yes, he could be right. I may have got swept off my feet.’

Jo said nothing but pressed Adele’s hand warmly. Yet her mother-in-law’s sentiment brought back the subject of sons and heirs to her mind.

Not that Gavin had mentioned a family again, but those thoughts had stayed with her as she’d experimented with taking up the reins of being the mistress of Kin Can.

Nor had their physical need for each other diminished. If anything it had broadened as she got more and more involved in the life of the station and was able to share it with him.

But there was something she couldn’t put her finger on at first. Something between her and Gavin brought her a fleeting sense of unease, and she found herself examining it again as she sipped her coffee that morning.

So far as hedging her bets went, she didn’t think she was. Yes, she hadn’t told him she loved him; yes, she still, for some reason she didn’t quite understand herself, headed off any talk of her past. But she thought she matched him in bed and out of it.

Except for the odd occasion when she sensed a suppressed frustration about him that reminded her of their conversation over what Rosie should call her. Reminded her, come to that, of his mood the night she’d worn her hair up out to dinner.

The more she thought about it, the more she wondered if it had only been desire between them that had got out of hand. Or was there more to the unsmiling electricity they generated sometimes?

Then she started to wonder if there were ways she was not matching up to Sasha, ways she was unaware of?

Of course, they had been in love, Gavin and Sasha, but what more could he expect of her when he himself had made the comment that the less flamboyant emotions were the ones with better foundations?

They got along so well for the most part, until she found that chasm opening up at her feet when she least expected it, as had happened to her recently.

A couple of weeks ago he’d flown her to Brisbane ostensibly because he’d had some business there. They’d dropped Rosie off with Adele and he’d checked them into a beautiful hotel on the Brisbane River. He’d told her that he would have to leave her alone for most of the day but she might appreciate the opportunity to shop or whatever. Then he’d requested a dinner date with her.

She’d agreed with suitable gravity and they’d parted, but she’d been filled with a sense of anticipation.

She hadn’t shopped, she’d taken the opportunity to visit a new exhibition at the Queensland Art Gallery she’d been dying to see. Then, succumbing to an unusual whim, for her, she’d had a facial and got her hair done.

It had certainly made it even more pleasurable to don one of her trousseau dresses—a lovely cream linen shift—knowing she was also well groomed.

They had dined at a restaurant overlooking the river, and perhaps something in the way he’d been watching her had alerted her, so that she said suddenly, ‘Oh no.’

He raised an eyebrow. They’d finished their main course and were deciding whether to have dessert or not. ‘Something wrong?’

‘Well—’ she touched her newly washed and styled hair ‘—my hair is down, so it can’t be that.’

He lay back in his chair looking impossibly attractive in a dark suit, a pale blue shirt and a navy tie.

‘You’re not going to ask me to get up and walk away from you?’ she queried.

He sat up. ‘I wish you hadn’t said that.’

She stayed sober with an effort. ‘Something tells me it might not be a good idea to have dessert, though.’

‘Your instincts are impeccable, Jo.’

She could no longer hide a smile. ‘I must be learning.’

It wasn’t far from the restaurant to the hotel, and once in their room, he set about undressing her leisurely.

When there was nothing left to take off, he said quietly but with palpable restraint, ‘Now you can walk away.’

Jo thought for a moment. Was this turning into another of those unsmiling encounters between them that disturbed her for all their electricity?

‘I think I’d rather help you undress first,’ she countered. ‘We need some—equity, don’t we?’

But was she asking a different question? she wondered. Or making a statement along the lines of—we need to be together in spirit, Gavin, not just physically.

‘You always did have a mind of your own, Josie,’ he said after a long pause.

‘Mmm,’ she agreed, and put her hands on his shirt buttons.

There was nothing leisurely about the way Gavin got undressed, and there was nothing leisurely about the way they made love. It was urgent and powerful and their climax was mind-blowing…

‘You kill me, you know,’ he said into her hair, when they were capable of talking again.

Jo moved cautiously in his arms. ‘If it’s any consolation I feel as if I’ve been dropped from a great height.’

He lifted his head and looked into her eyes, with his entirely wicked. ‘But it was nice?’

‘It was…’ she sighed luxuriously ‘…fantastic.’

‘When…?’ He stopped and his eyes changed.

‘When what?’

‘No, nothing. Go to sleep, Lady Longlegs.’

‘Gavin—’ she hesitated ‘—tell me what’s on your mind.’

‘Not a lot.’ He reached out and switched off the bedside lamp.

Jo opened her mouth to protest that she could sense a definite change in him, a withdrawal, and she needed to know why.

But it occurred to her suddenly that maybe he was remembering Sasha. Maybe they’d done unexpected little trips like this—perhaps they’d stayed in this very hotel, and it was his memories he was fighting.

If so, there was nothing she could do or say.

He stayed mentally withdrawn from her until they got back to Kin Can, then, as had happened before between them, they got back to normal.

But there was also the day she’d hosted her first dinner party. She flinched at the memory.

She’d invited three couples, all from the district, and it had been going really well until one of the men, under the influence of too much wine, had raised his glass to Gavin and complimented him on the fact that he sure knew how to pick his wives.

A horrified silence had greeted his words. The man’s wife had looked as if a handy hole in the ground was her preferred option, and Gavin had shot him a murderous glance.

Somehow, Jo had found the composure to get the evening going again but not with the same level of enjoyment as before and she’d been sincerely relieved when it had been over.

‘Remind me not to invite him again,’ she murmured to Gavin as they waved their guests off for their long drives home.

‘Why? He obviously approved of you.’

She blinked, then turned to him incredulously. ‘If nothing else it was the height of tactlessness,’ she objected.

He shrugged and turned away. ‘I think I’ll turn in.’

Jo stayed on the veranda for some time, trying to work out how she’d been made to feel as if she’d invited the comment. That’s crazy, she told herself angrily. Or had one highly tactless comment brought Sasha back for Gavin? Sasha, presiding over dinner parties as only she could, perhaps?

Sasha, whose shadow I’m beginning to feel more and more, she thought. Nothing else seems to make sense. On the other hand, he told me in so many words he would always be holding another woman up to her memory, so why am I surprised and so hurt?

She went to bed, to find him fast asleep—the first time since their marriage he hadn’t reached for her, even if only to hold her in his arms until they fell asleep.

She put her coffee-cup down now and sighed at those difficult memories. Then she forced herself to contemplate the rest of her day.

Once her session with Rosie was over, she intended to sneak a few hours’ drawing. She was building up a series of pictures of the station, and was seriously thinking of giving an exhibition. Adele, who seemed to know anyone who was anyone, had also got interested in the project.

But her afternoon session didn’t happen. She ended up going to bed with a hot-water bottle.

She did eventually fall asleep, and although the worst was over when she woke up she felt drained and pale. Gavin was sitting on the side of the bed.

‘That time of the month?’ he queried, and put his hand over hers.

‘Mmm.’ But as she agreed she couldn’t help wondering if it was a flash of disappointment she saw in his eyes.

‘You stay there and relax. I’ll bring some supper later.’ He bent down and kissed her gently.

She drifted off to sleep again, convinced she’d imagined the disappointment. In fact, at that moment she felt cherished and as if she could forget all her previous concerns. That they were all right.

The next morning she was up and about and back to normal. But she was quite unprepared for the conversation she had with Gavin while they took a break for morning tea, or ‘smoko’ as everyone on the property called it.

They’d ridden their bikes to one of the lambing paddocks. Rosie had been flown to a neighbouring property for a birthday party and was to stay overnight.

Jo had been delighted with the lambs, then she’d spread a blanket under a tree and unpacked the basket Mrs Harper had provided. There was tea in a Thermos flask and some slices of rich, dark fruit cake bursting with cherries.

‘I could get fat on Mrs Harper’s cooking,’ she commented.

Gavin sprawled out across the rug as she poured the tea into enamel mugs. ‘You don’t look fat to me.’

‘Thank you, Mr Hastings. You should know,’ she teased.

He studied her comprehensively in jeans and a checked blouse, then looked into her eyes. ‘Are you still happy with the way we “know” each other, Jo?’

She hesitated and frowned—another unsmiling moment coming up? ‘The way we know each other is fine with me,’ she said carefully. ‘How about you?’

‘Ditto,’ he said. ‘Incidentally, is there anything you can do for what you seem to go through every month?’

Jo selected a piece of cake and handed him the plate. ‘Go on the pill or have a baby,’ she said humorously.

‘Does that mean you aren’t on the pill?’

She set her mug down carefully on the lid of the cake tin and waved away some flies. ‘What made you think I was?’

‘It’s been three months,’ he pointed out.

Jo shook her head to clear her thoughts. ‘And you’re worried I’m infertile after only three months? Or secretly taking the pill?’ she asked.

‘You did say you didn’t want to start a family immediately, Jo.’

It struck her that she hadn’t imagined that look of disappointment in his eyes the previous evening, after all. And her fears, all her insecurities bubbled up again in a way that was suddenly impossible to resist.

‘And you neglected to tell me, Gavin Hastings—’ she got to her feet abruptly ‘—what this marriage really was about! A son to carry on your line.’

‘Nonsense,’ he replied roughly and stood up himself. ‘What gave you that idea?’ he added contemptuously.

‘The idea came from several sources, actually. You’ve just confirmed it.’ Her eyes flashed and she planted her hands on her hips, but inside she was feeling cold and incredibly hurt. Here I go again, she thought. Having my motivation mistrusted when—talk about motivation!—his has always been suspect.

‘You did stipulate this was very much a marriage of convenience, Jo,’ he pointed out lethally, as if reading her mind. ‘Convenient in the sense that you can walk away from it whenever you feel like it? Is that what you meant?’

Her lips parted to deny it, but she changed her mind. ‘I never intended it to become a child-bearing operation to save the Hastings dynasty.’

‘So you aren’t planning to have a family?’ he shot back.

‘Not to order, not like that, no! Incidentally, if I don’t provide you with a son, Gavin, will I get my marching orders?’

He crossed the gap between them swiftly and grabbed her wrist in a bruising grasp. ‘Stop it,’ he ordered through his teeth. ‘That has nothing to do with it as you damn well know!’

‘No, I don’t know. Let me go, you’re hurting me,’ she gasped.

He dropped her wrist, but his expression was still infuriated and menacing. ‘Jo—’

She turned on her heel and ran to her bike, evidently taking him by surprise because she was able to switch it on and drive away from him before he could stop her.

And she drove with her hair streaming out behind her, a blur in front of her eyes as tears and a dreadful ache in her heart claimed her.

She just didn’t see the kangaroo that bounded out from behind a clump of rocks until she hit it and cartwheeled over the handlebars.

The kangaroo picked itself up and bounded off. She lay unconscious on the ground.

‘Gavin,’ Tom Watson said, ‘I think she’s going to be all right. She’s sprained an ankle, she has an impressive array of grazes, but I don’t believe there are any internal injuries or skull fractures—a bloody miracle, actually. I’m going to fly her to Charleville for more tests all the same.’

‘When do you expect her to regain consciousness?’

Tom regarded him for a moment. He’d known Gavin Hastings for a long time but he’d only ever seen him look like this once before, when his first wife had died. ‘Hard to say. You better come with us.’

‘Yes, you go, Gavin,’ Mrs Harper said tearfully as she bent over Jo’s inert form on a stretcher, and patted her shoulder tenderly. ‘I’ll take care of Rosie when she comes back.’

‘Where am I?’

Jo’s lashes fluttered up and Gavin immediately pressed the bell beside her bed.

‘You’re in hospital, Jo, but you’re going to be fine.’ he said quietly, picking up her hand. ‘You had an accident on a quad bike—do you remember?’

‘No-o.’

Tom came into the room and drew up a chair beside the bed. And patiently and gently he asked her some questions. It took a while but they eventually established that she knew who she was, she knew who Gavin was—although that brought a frown to her eyes—and the only thing she didn’t remember at all was the accident.

The effort of it all obviously exhausted her and she fell asleep.

Tom drew Gavin out of the room. ‘That’s quite common,’ he said. ‘Some people never remember the actual incident, but otherwise I’d say her memory hasn’t been affected at all.’

He paused and searched Gavin’s eyes for signs of relief. But his expression was as hard and shuttered as it had been all through the long day and half a night.

‘Gavin? She’s going to be all right, believe me, mate. Look, I know what this must be bringing back memories of, but—’

‘The thing is,’ Gavin broke in swiftly and harshly, ‘do you know how I’m ever going to be able to forgive myself?’ And he turned and strode away down the corridor.

Tom stared after him, then shook his head and went back to his patient.

A couple of days later, Jo felt a lot more coherent although, at the same time, as if she’d been under a steamroller, and she was still being treated for concussion.

Then Tom came to see her and, while he examined her, he took a light, playful approach.

‘Don’t know what it is with you two,’ he said. ‘If you’re not getting yourself shot by kidnappers, you’re getting knocked out by kangaroos!’

Jo smiled weakly, but after Tom’s departure she found herself considering his words with a feeling of irony. What was it between them that had seen them end up in the same hospital, same private ward, at the beginning and quite possibly the end of their relationship?

Although she still didn’t remember running into the kangaroo, the events that had led up to it had slowly filtered back.

So how ironic was it, she reflected, that from this very bed Gavin became possessed of the impulse to marry her, and her alone? How—fateful—that she should be in it, not really broken in body but certainly in spirit, because there’d been times when she’d thought—what? That she was winning his love and he hadn’t married her only for Rosie and sons to carry on the line?

Five days after the accident, Jo was dressed and ready to leave hospital.

She still felt, although it was lessening, as if she’d been under a steamroller. She still had bruises and grazes, but her ankle had responded well and she could put her weight on it. Otherwise she was fine.

She grimaced at the thought. She certainly wasn’t fine mentally.

Gavin had spent quite a bit of time with her, but had said nothing about the argument that had led to the accident. He’d been gentle and determinedly cheerful. At first, while she’d felt so sick and sore, she’d been grateful, but today she felt different. In about half an hour, he was coming to fly her back to Kin Can. So they could formally dissolve their marriage? she wondered.

Was that what she wanted? What were her options? To continue in the knowledge that her principal role in his life was as the mother of his children? No…but…

She gazed out of the window. It had rained almost the entire time she’d been in hospital and was still raining.

Gavin stood at the door of Jo’s private ward and watched her narrowly without her being aware of it.

Her lovely hair was tied back in a pony-tail and the lines of her figure beneath a black T-shirt and loose grey cotton trousers were tense and upright as she sat on the side of the bed half turned towards the window.

What was she thinking? he wondered. Was she still as angry with him as she’d been five days ago? Was she contemplating leaving him?

She was pale, he realized, from the one cheek he could see, and there was still a bruise on it. Her hands were gripped in her lap as if she was in pain. He closed his eyes briefly and cursed himself yet again.

Then he took hold. ‘Jo?’

She swung round convulsively, her eyes widening. ‘I…I didn’t hear you,’ she stammered.

‘I haven’t been here long. How do you feel?’

‘Fine! Fine.’ She gazed at him with, he got the odd feeling, expectation.

‘Shall we go, then? I’ve had a slight change—’

‘Gavin, we need to talk! I need to know where we stand.’

‘This isn’t,’ he said quietly, ‘the time or the place. Anyway, you can’t be all that fine yet and it’s best that we just take things slowly for a time.’ He glanced out of the window and grimaced.

‘I’m perfectly able to talk,’ she said tautly. ‘I—I’m not a porcelain doll, but that’s what you’re making me feel like!’

‘Jo, we could have a slightly difficult trip ahead of us so let’s talk when we get home.’ He picked up her bag.

She stared at the angles and lines of his face and his shuttered expression, and trembled inwardly. How could they have come to this? He might make her feel like a porcelain doll, but she knew she was banging her head against a brick wall at the moment.