Читать книгу Outback Wives Wanted!: Wedding at Wangaree Valley / Bride at Briar's Ridge / Cattle Rancher, Secret Son - Margaret Way - Страница 11

KIERAN returned from Sydney, strained and on edge. Although he apologised to Alana for having disappeared on the day of the sales, the name of his mystery woman remained a secret.

So many secrets, Alana thought, herself so troubled in her mind that she left her brother well alone. Kieran would confide in her when he was ready, she reasoned. Until then she would keep out of his private affairs. They only appeared to hold anger and pain. Besides, hadn’t her own life turned into a mess?

Like Kieran, she couldn’t bring herself to discuss it. She couldn’t imagine what Kieran would think if she suddenly confided she was totally in love with Guy Radcliffe. She thought after the initial shock he would advise her to leave well alone. That was the way it must have been with him and Alex. Leave well alone. Clearly Kieran believed the Radcliffes were out of reach. The Radcliffes were rich folk. The Callaghans were battlers.

Their father had fought his way out of his binge, but he had lost so much weight for a man previously so strongly built that Alana began to worry his alcohol addiction over the past three years had done significant damage to his body—in particular, his liver. She began to read up all she could about the chronic liver disease cirrhosis, and found her way to an important medicinal herb, St Mary’s Thistle, which had been used to good effect for liver ailments, indeed all sorts of ailments, since the time of the ancient Greeks and Romans. Her father refused point-blank to see a doctor and undergo any tests, but he did consent to swallowing the liquid extract the long-established village pharmacist recommended.

“Your dad really needs to see one of the doctors at the clinic, Alana.” Kindly eyes were fixed on her. “Don Cameron is a good man. This Milk Thistle here could be no help at all.”

Alana thought it was worth a try.

Out of the blue her cousin Rose rang to invite her to lunch at the hugely popular Radcliffe Estate Restaurant.

“I have some news for you!” Rose trilled excitedly down the phone. “I’m up in the air about it, actually. See you Tuesday—say about one p.m.? My shout. I’ll make the reservation. It’s usually packed out.”

Tuesday morning, Alana dressed with care in a brilliantly white linen shirt with a small stand-up collar, over narrowly cut black pants. She had just the legs for the cut, and the right kind of derrière. Around her waist she slung a wide patent leather black belt with a big silver buckle, and she slipped on a pair of high heeled black sandals—her best. Her mother’s black bag was dateless, never out of fashion. She thought she looked pretty good. She had inherited her mother’s chic, and that actually meant a lot. Money wasn’t synonymous with style.

She was looking forward to seeing Rose. All dressed, she presented herself to her father, who was sitting aimlessly in a planter’s chair out on the verandah, staring up at the blue hills.

“How do I look?” She struck a model’s pose, trying to get a smile out of him. Off the wagon, Alan Callaghan was more morose than on it.

“Beautiful!” he said, putting his arm out to her and gathering her in around her slender hips. “Remember me to little Rosie. Some people just suit their names.”

Alana remained in her father’s embrace. “Like some people look exactly what they are.” Of course she was thinking of Guy—The Man. “What are you going to do with yourself, Dad?”

He grimaced. “Well, let’s see. Where shall I start? I thought I might go into town.”

“Really?” Alana was pleasantly surprised. Her father rarely wanted to go anywhere. “Why didn’t you say? I could have run you in and picked you up later.”

“Only just thought of it,” he said. “Might call in on Father Brennan. Make me confession.”

“Dad?” Alana bent to stare into her father’s face, feeling a shock of alarm.

“Only jokin', darlin'.” He raised the ghost of a grin. “I haven’t been to confession for many years. Hardly time to be starting up again now. But I like Terry Brennan. He’s a good bloke.”

“Mum thought so.” Her mother had been raised a Catholic.

“God bless her!” Alan Callaghan sighed. “She was a saint to put up with me.”

“You weren’t so bad!” Alana shook him lightly. In fact in the old days their father had been full of fun and good cheer—the most affectionate of fathers. “Mum loved you.”

“Did she?”

That struck a badly discordant note. “What are you saying, Dad? Of course she did.”

“There’s love and there’s love,” Callaghan pronounced flatly.

“So what are you trying to tell me?” Alana asked in distress. Oh, God!

“I let a dream rule my life, me darlin'. The dream that your mother loved me. I know she settled for me. I know she was absolutely loyal to me. But I wasn’t what she wanted.”

Pain slashed all the way through her. “Who was? I’m really confused about all this, Dad. We were a happy family. It wasn’t a dream. It was a reality. And Mum did love you. She had to. She laughed at all your jokes. Don’t shatter what we had with maudlin thoughts. Maybe she was in love with David Radcliffe at some stage, when they were very young. But she didn’t marry him, did she? She married you.”

Alan Callaghan let out a strangled sigh. “Things happen, Alana.”

“Tell me.” She waited, breathless. “It’s obviously eating away at you, whatever it is.”

“Sorry, darlin'!” Her father sat up straight. “I’m a bit hazy on it myself. You go off now and enjoy yourself. God knows, you deserve a bit of pleasure.”

Alana glanced at her watch. She had to go, or she would be running late. She had intended taking the car—the air-conditioning in the ute was on the blink—but now she changed her mind. “I’ll take the ute. You take the car,” she suggested, in her usual generous fashion. Her father didn’t know the air-conditioning in the ute was shot. There was so much he didn’t know or care about.

“Doesn’t matter to me, darlin',” Alan Callaghan said. ‘You’re all dressed up. You take it.”

“The car will suit you better,” she replied. Alan Callaghan was six-three, like his son, and his skin had a peculiar flush. “I’m fine in the ute.” She bent to kiss his cheek, resting one hand on his shoulder. “You have clean shirts in your wardrobe, all ironed. Blue always looks so nice on you. Take care now, Dad. Love you.”

“Love you too, my darlin',” Alan Callaghan said, rising to his feet, then going to the verandah balustrade to wave her off.

Alana saw pleasure leap into Rose’s eyes as she walked towards her. Rose was already seated at the table, having arrived some minutes earlier. She jumped up to hug and kiss her cousin.

“Oh, isn’t this great? I’m so happy to see you, Lana,” she said in her affectionate way. “You look gorgeous—as usual. Très chic! You’re easily the most stunning girl in the Valley. It puts Vi’s nose out of joint I can tell you.” She giggled.

“Is it any wonder I love you so much?” Alana asked indulgently. Rose herself looked a picture, in a designer dress that must have cost the earth. Her Italian handbag alone would have set her trust fund back a few thousand dollars. With maybe another thousand or more tied up in the shoes. The Denby girls weren’t cheap dressers. They were fashion icons. In fact Alana rarely saw them in the same thing twice.

Predictably, they had been allotted one of the restaurant’s best tables, beside the huge floor-to-ceiling plate glass windows. The building was shaded by extensive covered verandahs that commanded a splendid view over the sun drenched vale of vines that marched in precise lines right up to the base of the green foothills. What a visual delight! Alana felt herself calming. It was marvellous paintable country! The ripened chardonnay grapes were to be harvested at any moment, which accounted for the palpable air of expectancy that permeated the air, and it was a sparkling scene laid out for their delectation beneath a shimmering blue sky.

“You’re going to have a glass of wine, aren’t you?” Rose asked, fixing her cousin with her huge, heavily lashed blue eyes.

Rose was so very, very pretty, Alana thought. Rather like the pin-up girls of old, with her thick blonde hair cut in a bob and her rosebud mouth painted fire-engine-red. And she was sweet. She’d be perfect for Simon. Even the Draconian Rebecca couldn’t object that much to Rose Denby.

“Just the one, Rose,” Alana said with a smile. “I’m driving.”

“Simon is going to run me home,” Rose confided, looking just the faintest bit anxious, as if Alana might have some objection. “We’ll soon be working together.” She held up a hand. “You can’t tell him yet, it’s not set in stone, but Guy has offered me a job.”

“That’s your news?” Alana wondered at the reason behind Guy’s sudden action.

“Yes!” Rose came across as thrilled. “I think it’s right down my alley, but I wanted to get your take on it. You’re the one with the good head on your shoulders. I’m a twit.”

“That’s not right, Rose,” Alana protested right away. Pretty as she was, Rose didn’t have a lot of self-esteem. “When did you stop believing in yourself? You were an excellent student.”

“Sure!” Rose sighed, looking away, across the luxuriant vineyard. “It’s hard to believe in yourself with sisters like mine. They gang up on me, those two. I know I was good at school but I’ve never amounted to anything, have I? You’ve been working your butt off since Aunt Belle died. People speak of you with such admiration. They dismiss me with a little knowing nod—airhead, featherbrain, fluttery little playgirl.”

“Hey, that’s not true!” Alana caught her cousin’s hand and shook it. “You’re so hard on yourself, Rose. You’re not reaching out, that’s all. You can do things. You don’t have to party all the time. I think it’s great Guy has offered you a job. I’m so happy for you.”

“You always did have a lot more faith in me than anyone else.” Rose leaned across the table, speaking in such a confidential voice that all the people in the huge room might have been dead set on eavesdropping. “I’ll be the PR person. I wouldn’t be waiting tables or anything like that. Mummy and Daddy would have a fit. It’s the social scene I’m good at, but I suddenly realise I want a job. I think it’s a dumb mistake, the way I’ve been living the life of a playgirl. Just like you said, I want to do something. Not something terribly serious, or really hard work, like you, but something I can enjoy. Something I can shine at. I’m good with people. Unlike my snooty sisters, people seem to like me.”

“Well, there’s a very good reason for that, Rose,” Alana said. “You have charm. You’re lovely to look at. You’re warm, friendly, intelligent. If you knew anything about mustering sheep I’d hire you myself. But you know everything about the Valley. And you’ve been just about everywhere in the world, so you can relate to all the overseas tourists. I think you’d be great! Congratulations. I’m proud of you.”

Guy’s hand is behind everything, Alana thought.

Rose blushed. “Gosh, it makes me happy to hear you say that, Lana. Guy has faith in me too. That means such a lot. I won’t let you down. I’ll be organising tours of the estate, making sure everything is working smoothly. I expect my duties will grow—Guy said it’s up to me. And I can help Simon in the office when I have the time. I’ve always had a soft spot for Simon, but he can’t see anyone outside you,” she lamented.

Alana shook her head. “Rose, it’s high time I told you I have no romantic interest in Simon. None whatsoever. We’re pals.”

Rose blinked, clearly having difficulty accepting what Alana had just said. “But Vi has been telling everyone you two are just biding your time before you get married. Simon’s mother is a bit of a pain in the neck, no?” Rose looked at Alana sympathetically. Rebecca Radcliffe, The Widow, had terrified her as a child. Rebecca looked just like the wicked stepmother in her illustrated book of Snow White.

“You’re not listening, Rosie.” Alana placed her hand over her cousin’s, giving it several little emphasising taps. “I-am-not-and-never-will-be-in-love-with-Simon.”

“Oh, thank you—thank you!” Rose put a hand to her breast, as if she was about to have a heart attack. “Just when I thought you were two steps away from the altar.”

“I’m two steps away from punching Vi in the nose,” Alana said as though ready to do it.

“But he worships you.” Rose could barely take in this new development.

“He would worship you if you played your cards right.” Alana looked her cousin directly in the eye.

“But this is crazy! Lana, don’t torture me. I’m already hyperventilating. You really don’t want him?”

Alana picked up the leatherbound menu, which was quite extensive. She studied it for a moment before answering. “As a husband, no; as my lifelong pal, yes. I’d be excited to be a god-mother, though. Maybe chief bridesmaid before that. Don’t take any notice whatsoever of anything Vi says. She’s a born trouble-maker, I’m afraid.”

“You’re telling me!” Rose huffed. “And Lil’s just the same. It will blow up in their faces one day.”

Simon was thrilled to have the opportunity of seeing Alana in the middle of his working day. He kissed her on both cheeks with Gallic aplomb, and smiled benignly on little Rose, who was looking remarkably pretty and flushed.

“Good lunch?” he asked, walking them to the parking lot.

“Great lunch!” both young women said together, then laughed.

“Well, the restaurant boasts a much-lauded chef,” Simon pointed out with satisfaction. “What did you have?”

“Rose will tell you in the car.” Alana lightly touched his arm. “She says you’re driving her home?” Actually, Alana could easily have done that, but Rose obviously didn’t want to miss out on a little private time with Simon.

“I wouldn’t want her to drive after a few drinks,” Simon said. “Our Rose can be quite naughty!”

“I like to enjoy myself, Simon, darling,” said Rose, suddenly feeling free to take his arm. “We had a brilliant time.” She puckered up to kiss Alana goodbye. “Just double-checking—you’re entering The Naming, of course?” she asked. “Will I ever get a chance to shine? Everyone thinks I’m pretty cute, but you’re something else again.”

“I’m not entering, Rosie,” Alana said firmly. “And I’m thinking it would be absolutely wonderful if you won.”

“Truly? You want me to win?” Rose’s big blue eyes widened.

Alana nodded. “I’ll take loads of photos of you wearing the crown.”

Simon, however, was searching Alana’s face with a frown. “You’re joking, aren’t you, Lana?”

“No, Simon, I’m not,’ she said sweetly, resisting the urge to pinch his cheek.

“But I’ve already entered you,” Simon burst out, near broken-heartedly.

“You shouldn’t have done that, Simon. It’s my decision not to enter.”

“Well, that’s good news of a kind.” Rose was looking on the bright side. “It gives the rest of us a chance.”

Alana was walking, head down, to the ute, when a tall figure loomed up in front of her, his height blocking out the sunlight. “Hi,” Guy said in a perfectly calm voice. “Lost in thought?”

She was glad her eyes were hidden behind the dark lenses of her sunglasses. “Why, hello, Guy. Is this the way it’s going to be from now on?”

“And how’s that?” He took her arm with unbearable gentleness and moved her into the shade of a trellis that was covered in a prolifically flowering white vine.

“We’re not friends any more?”

“Were we ever friends?” he asked ironically, his dark eyes moving slowly over her.

She averted her head. “Maybe not. I’ve just had lunch with Rose.”

“So I heard,” he answered smoothly. “She thinks the world of you, Alana.”

“And I’m very fond of Rose. It’s Violette I like to keep a million miles from. Violette is still telling anyone who will listen Simon and I are two minutes from the altar. At least that’s what Rose just told me.”

He was looking at her white shirt, at the first three buttons undone, allowing a mere glimpse of the shadowed cleft between her breasts.

She felt she was burning alive, unable to lock out the memories of his hands on her.

“Well, I do hope you put her right!” he said.

Alana gave in to a wry laugh. “You should have seen her rush off with Simon. She told me about the job. She’s thrilled. It’s wonderful you’re giving her a chance, Guy. It’s what she needs. Rose is capable of so much more.”

“I did it for you, Alana, as you well know,” he returned bluntly.

“Excuse me?” She threw back her head, aglitter in the sunlight.

“Don’t play dumb. It doesn’t suit you in the least. I did what you suggested. I set it up so Rose and Simon are thrown together. I understood that’s what you wanted?”

She heard the birds calling to one another, the bees droning, inhaled the nearly overpowering sweet scent of the cascades of white flowers. “Do you want me to go down on bended knee and thank you?”

He smiled. “Actually, that could be nice. Why don’t I drive you home instead? It’s damned hot, and I know for a fact the air conditioning in your ute has broken down.”

“Is there anything you don’t know? Anyway, there are such things as windows,” she pointed out. She who had been forced to spend several minutes fixing her windblown hair when she’d arrived.

“If you could manage a smile, I’ll get someone to fix it and deliver it back to the farm. Probably by tomorrow afternoon.”

She would be a fool to turn such an offer down. “I can’t let you do it, Guy.”

“But you can let me play matchmaker to get Simon off your back?”

She smarted—just as he’d intended. “I love Simon.”

“As a friend. Simon needs to be strong about recognising that fact. I’m sure Rose will do her very best to offer sympathy. I like Rose. As you say, there’s so much more to her than she’s been allowed to show. I think she can do this job, and do it well.”

“So do I!” Her note was overly emphatic, as though he might change his mind. “She’s ecstatic about it.”

His mouth twitched. “I think she’s more ecstatic about coming into daily contact with Simon. They’re both gentle people. I need hardly say you’re not!”

“Neither are you!” she shot back, affronted.

“You are going to let me drive you home, though?”

She stared up at him. “You’re an intimidating man when you want to be, Guy Radcliffe.”

He took her arm, leading her off to the reserved parking area, under shelter, where his car had pride of place. Once there, he opened the passenger door for her—but before she could make a move to slide into the leather seat he suddenly caught her chin, turned her face up to him and kissed her mouth.

She didn’t know if it was fierce or tender or a combination of both, but her legs turned as wobbly as a toddler’s.

“Lucky for you I’m not intimidating all the time,” he said, placing a hand on the top of her head and guiding her down into the passenger seat as though she were his prisoner.

The countryside revealed itself in gentle swells of hill and dale, in every possible shade of green. Alana was very sensitive to all the different shades of nature. Graceful, broad-domed shade trees lined the valley road, and in the huge paddocks some species of wattle had already begun to burst into the glowing masses of golden blossom that outstripped the display turned on by the red and pink flowering gums.

Alana stared through the window of the gently purring car as the Valley landscape flashed by. The interior was beautifully cool. The top-of-the-range car was a far, far cry from the farm utility or indeed anything she was used to.

It was the bluest of blue days. A day to rejoice in—though if the truth be known numerous anxieties were tugging at her heart. A few shape-shifting white clouds were gathering over the hills. One looked like the dove of peace, with its wings outstretched. She didn’t feel in the least peaceful. She was trying hard to resist the urge to touch her still pulsating mouth. Every kiss he gave her was more devastating than the last. If only she could read their true meaning. Tease away her doubts.

“Dad said such a strange thing to me before I left,” she confided.

Guy glanced at her with a quick frown. “Oh? What?”

“He said he was going to see Father Brennan to make his confession.”

Guy, being Guy, cut right to the heart of the matter. “What are you afraid of?”

“I believe Dad has a death wish.” Her tone betrayed her sorrow.

“It’s possible,” Guy agreed quietly. “Kieran and I are always on guard, but we can’t be with him all the time.”

“Where is Kieran today?”

She rested her head back. “He’s gone over to the Mangans to give them a hand. Mr Mangan isn’t properly on his feet after his operation.”

“Yes, I know,” Guy murmured, his mind clearly on other things. “You know your farm will have to go?”

She nodded in abject resignation. “Maybe you can give me a job, like Rose?” She heard the bitterness in her voice, then felt appalled by it. “I’m sorry. I know how that sounded.”

“I could buy Briar’s Ridge,” Guy said.

She turned her head to look at him in amazement. He had sounded serious. “You don’t need it.”

“No.”

“So why would you do it?”

A muscle clenched along his clean jawline. “I’d do it if it would get your father back on his feet.” So she did mean something to him. But what?

“I don’t believe it would,” she answered, on reflection. “Dad is sunk in—not apathy, it’s despair. He tried to make that ‘confession’ a joke but he can’t fool me. He told me, ‘There’s love and there’s love.‘ He said he’d let a dream rule his life. That he wasn’t the one my mother wanted.”

“Isn’t that a confession?” Guy said with a strange note in his voice.

“You know it all, Guy. That’s why I’m telling you. In a way, your family and mine are bound together The richest family in the Valley, descendants of the old squattocracy, and an Irish immigrant who arrived in this country as a penniless boy with only a kindly great-aunt to take him in. Why did my mother choose the man she did? Why did my mother choose my father when even my father believes he wasn’t her heart’s choice?”

Guy took his time before he answered. “Your mother was pregnant at the time of her marriage, Alana. She married the father of her child. It’s as simple as that. She did what she believed was right.”

Tears choked her throat. “Do we even know that for sure? Why do Kieran and Alex act so strangely whenever they see one another? If I didn’t know better, I’d say Alex was Kieran’s woman of mystery. She certainly looks the part. Maybe they think they’re related? Maybe that’s what they’re afraid of?” She broke off, emotionally exhausted.

Guy’s dark eyes cut to her distraught profile. “Alan Callaghan was the father of Annabel’s child.” His voice had the ring of certainty. “Don’t make yourself sick toying with a fantasy. Although there is something odd in Kieran’s relationship with my sister. Whatever it is, it’s definitely not what you’ve just thrown in. You can get that out of your head right now. However your father won your mother—whatever method he used—it has haunted him. Believe me, Alana, Kieran is his son. Do you really think my father would have let his own child get away from him? Your mother alone made the decision to marry your father. She could not be dissuaded. Anyway, as a family you always gave the appearance of being happy. You were happy. Leave it at that, Alana. There’s nothing to be gained by asking too many painful questions to which you might never get an answer.”

Even so, immense frustration was building in her chest. “When I was a girl I used to hero-worship you,” she said in a tight voice.

He kept his eyes on the road. “You said that with such a mix of emotions. Am I going to have to do battle for you, Alana? You know I want you. I’m having trouble thinking of anything else but wanting you.” He lifted a hand off the wheel to touch her cheek.

Her body was swept by the sharpest aches and longings. Don’t you dare cry, she admonished herself. But her feelings were reflected in the melancholy tone of her voice. “So we start an affair? Is that it? Because you want me? For how long? What happens when it’s all over?” She turned her head to stare at him. “What could be the terrible result? For that matter, how do you know I won’t trap you into marriage? Even for you, someone renowned for never making a mistake, it wouldn’t be difficult. I could swear to be on the pill when I wasn’t. It’s been done before today. We both know of cases in the Valley.”

“You could never trap me,” he said. “The man who gets you, Alana, will be walking off with a prize. And let me correct you. I’ve made plenty of mistakes. Not, however, with women. Anyway, that’s not the way you are. You don’t have a dishonourable bone in your body.”

“I hope not.” Everything about him went deep with her. It was so much worse since they had crossed that dividing line. This man had the power to break her heart. She might be like her father. Some broken hearts never mended. “Do any of us truly know what we are until crisis time?” she asked. “Was Kieran’s conception just an accident?”

Guy’s face darkened. “Please, Alana, forget it.”

“Easier said than done. Maybe much of life is a series of accidents? What do you really want of me, Guy? I must tell you I’m no plaything to be enjoyed and then thrown away.”

“You think I see you as a plaything?” he asked with a flare of anger. “I don’t fall into the emotionally screwed up category, Alana. And in case you’ve started thinking revenge; forget it. Revenge is not in my heart. We both know we’ve always had a connection, though I suppose both of us have done our best to cover it up. I was older when you were just growing up. It made a difference. Then.”

Hadn’t his position, his charisma, his experience and sophistication kept her in awe for a long time? She stared out of the window for a few moments. “Were you ever sleeping with Violette?” she asked finally. She couldn’t stop herself. That was the other thing. His relationship with her cousin.

Guy’s mouth twisted. “Okay—yes! I was for a while. I won’t lie to you. My mother was very much in favor of Violette. I guess you don’t understand why. I don’t know that I do myself,” he said wryly. “But Violette can be very charming when she puts her mind to it. She knows how to insinuate herself with the right people. I’m sure you know what I mean. But our relationship couldn’t go beyond a certain stage. We’re very different people. Violette will find someone to suit her. I’ve had plenty of girlfriends. You know that. Most of them are still my friends. I’ve never deliberately hurt a woman. The very last person I want to hurt is you.”

“But despite your best intentions it could all turn out very differently,” she said quietly. “If we became close, our differences might stand out.’

“Does that worry you?” he asked. “I’ve known you all your life, Alana. I haven’t seen any essential differences. We’re not opposite poles. We both love the land. Not everyone sees it as we do. We need this life. We love Nature. We feel its healing power.”

“It hurts me to know you slept with Violette,” she admitted. “Your affair—whatever it was—lasted quite a while. She must be good in bed.”

A groan came from the back of Guy’s throat. “Alana, even for you I can’t kiss and tell. Did you want me to lie to you? Sex happens. I made no promises to Violette. I didn’t lead her astray. We really weren’t half as close as you seem to think. There’s a thousand times more excitement in touching your cheek.”

“So we’re going to have a sexual relationship?” If so, she might lose herself for ever!

“That’s what I want! I think we’ve gone past the stage where we can remain good friends.”

“Would you like it if I said I’ve slept with Simon?”

He turned his head briefly. “No, I wouldn’t,” he said, unmistakably emphatic. “But you haven’t. I’m thinking Simon has to be the Sir Galahad of the Valley. He adores you. It must have been very hard for him, treating you all this while as his best pal.”

“He is my best pal, that’s why!”

“What would I be, then?” He shot her a challenging glance. “Come on—tell me, so I’ll know.”

She began to count out on her fingers. “You’re a man with a lot of influence. You have a lot of power. And, yes, you have loads and loads of money.”

“Would you marry me for my money?”

“Of course I wouldn’t. Anyway, I’m not thinking of marriage at this stage.”

“What about six months from now?”

“You’re fooling,” she said shortly. She could see the sparkle in his eyes. “Go on, have your fun.”

“You never know! Anyway, you and Simon are wrong for each other.”

A little wave of sadness swept through her. “Simon is going to be dreadfully hurt.”

“I know that, and I’m sorry. Simon is my cousin—he’s family. But we both know Simon and Rose are much better suited. Besides, Rebecca will take a completely different view of Rose.”

Alana gave a brittle laugh. “Rose is a Denby.”

“So are you. Rebecca is an odd person,” he commented unexpectedly.

“My mother used to say Rebecca ‘wasn’t quite right.’”

“And she was being kind. Keep away from Rebecca as much as possible.”

She turned her head in surprise. “Why do you say that? Anyone would think I was considering moving in.”

“Well—” Abruptly, Guy broke off what he’d been about to say. He further startled Alana by putting a warning hand on her arm. “Looks like there’s been an accident up ahead. I can spot skid marks, and there’s a gouge in that big tree that looks fresh. A vehicle might have skidded on the gravel, hit the tree, then flipped. We’ll need to take a look.”

Instantly Alana was riven by dread. Some part of her recognised that she had always been prepared for something like this. Her mother had lost her life not very far from here. Her father had told her he intended driving into town. That meant he would have had to travel this very road. Full-blown panic entered her bloodstream. The beauty of the day gave way to nightmare.

Guy stopped his car at the top of the rise, a few feet from the towering gum. An area of bark had been gouged out of the trunk, long strips of it lying around the base. Swiftly Guy got out of the car and came round to her. “Stay where you are. I can smell petrol.”

She responded by trying to get out. “I’m coming too. You can’t stop me.”

“I can and I will,” Guy said, looking grim and well capable of using force if he had to. “This is a dangerous situation, Alana. Stay put. You’re needed to ring the police and an ambulance.”

“Just tell me it’s not our car,” she implored, her hopes dimming.

Guy lifted his hand, then dropped it as if in futility. Despite himself he too was giving in to a peculiar dread. He moved off while Alana sat there, door open, making heartbreaking little keening sounds.

He was back to her in moments. “It is your car,” he said, a world of regret in his voice. “I can see your father slumped over the wheel. The petrol fumes are strong. I have to get him out of there.”

“But, Guy, the danger!” She stared up at him, wild-eyed. Could she lose Guy and her father too?

“I’ll be fine,” he insisted. “Just do what I tell you. Make those calls. There’s no real help you can give. You’ll only be in the way.”

Urgently he moved down the woody slope. The smell of petrol was worrying him dreadfully. Alan Callaghan could be incinerated—a fate not to be borne. He was either unconscious or dead.

Guy reached the vehicle, tugging with all his might at the door handle. Finally he got it open. He reached in over Alan Callaghan’s dark head to turn off the ignition, his heart flipping at the moan that issued from the injured man’s throat.

Thank God!

Guy withdrew his head for a split second, shouting back to Alana, who was standing at the lip of the slope, staring down at the crash scene. “He’s alive!” But in what condition?

Blood was running from a wound high up on Alan Callaghan’s temple. Working swiftly, fearing the situation, Guy released the seat belt, then got his arm around the man. There was no way he could leave Alan Callaghan where he was.

The car could catch fire at any minute. It would explode. Too gruesome a death! One to be avoided at all costs. There was nothing else for it but to carry the semi-conscious man up the slope. To Guy’s immense relief, Alan Callaghan roused himself, then made a definite effort to stand on his own two feet.

“I’ve got you, Alan!” Guy cried. “We have to get up the slope as quickly as we can.”

Just as he had done once before, Guy slung his arm around the big man, half pulling, half dragging him up the slope, which mercifully wasn’t steep.

Oh, Dad—Dad, what’s to become of you? Alana shook her head, her nerves raw. Was this an attempted suicide? Or had her father simply lost control of the vehicle when he’d skidded on the gravel? Going on the strength of the petrol fumes, she was terrified he and Guy wouldn’t make it up the slope until it was too late. And she was in danger herself, standing so close to the lip. But she couldn’t bring herself to move away.

I can’t face life without these two.

If anything bad happened now it would break her. There had been so many losses, her spirit would simply call it quits.

“There’s a rug in the boot,” Guy called to her. “Be quick, Alana. Get it and drape it over the back seat. I’ll put your father there. We can get him to hospital much faster than waiting for the ambulance.”

Alana ran.

Less than a few minutes after that, with Guy’s car speeding back towards the town, the Callaghan’s car exploded. It went up in a solid wall of orange flame, with sections of buckled steel flying like missiles through the sulphurous air.