Читать книгу Outback Wives Wanted!: Wedding at Wangaree Valley / Bride at Briar's Ridge / Cattle Rancher, Secret Son - Margaret Way - Страница 12

THEY were sitting in the waiting room, hoping for news of Alan Callaghan’s condition.

Alana knew she would have been locked into a dark world if Guy hadn’t been with her. His strong, calm presence lent her tremendous support. He was, in fact, holding her hand. She didn’t know when he had taken it, but she wasn’t going to let go. Some time in the future, when her father had made it, she was going to thank Guy for saving her father’s life. It had been a very brave thing to do. Not everyone would have taken such a risk. Most people would have been thinking, quite naturally, of their own survival. Now her mind was dulled with shock, replaying the incident over and over, trying to fathom what had been in her father’s mind. She was leaning against Guy, her head resting on his shoulder, but she was no longer fully conscious of what she was doing.

“Lana?”

They both looked up as Kieran, with a visibly upset Buddy in tow, came into the waiting room. News of the crash had travelled with the speed of lightning. It had reached the Mangan farm in no time at all.

Alana stood up, throwing herself into her brother’s arms. They closed around her powerfully, conveying the state Kieran was in, but there was a faintly bitter edge to his voice. “What’s all this about, Lana?” he asked, his handsome face pinched. “Was it an accident, or Dad deciding to call it a day?”

She could only murmur helplessly, “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

“Well, the police will soon sort it out,” Kieran said grimly. “God, I’ll have to stop Buddy blubbing. It’s really getting to me.”

Alana looked towards the sobbing youngster. “He loves Dad.”

“Well, I love Dad too, but I’m fed up with all this. What was in Dad’s mind? Doesn’t he care about us at all? Doesn’t he care how we would feel afterwards?”

Clearly Kieran thought it was a failed suicide attempt.

Guy, on the other hand, was by no means sure of that. He decided to intervene. Alana looked pale enough to faint. “It could well have been an accident, Kieran,” he said, joining them.

“Or Dad determined on taking his last ride,” Kieran said in a choked voice. “We can’t thank you enough, Guy. You’re a hero.”

“Forget that!” Guy brushed all mention of heroism aside. “I did what you would have done in the same circumstances.”

“You’re a hero in my book,” Kieran repeated firmly, suddenly turning on the weeping Buddy. “For goodness’ sake, Buddy, quit it!” It was obvious he was in no mood to listen to Buddy’s choking sobs, which had started the very minute they got the news.

Guy twisted about to get an arm around Buddy’s slight shoulders. “You’ve got to be strong now, Buddy. Think you can do it?”

“I’m a bit of a mess right now, Mr Radcliffe,” Buddy said pitifully.

“We all are, Buddy. But we mustn’t slip into despair.”

Buddy rolled his eyes. “You were willin’ to go down to a rolled car that was threatenin’ to blow up! I call that mighty brave.”

Incredibly brave, Alana thought.

“It wasn’t about bravery, Buddy,” Guy said, finding being labelled brave a burden. “It was doing what had to be done. Now, let’s forget it.”

I’ll never forget it! Alana thought.

Minutes later Simon and Rose hurried in, both showing their concern. “When we first heard there had been an accident Simon nearly went off his head,” Rose confided to Alana quietly. “We had absolutely no idea at that point it was your father. Simon thought it was you. Maybe there’s a lesson to be learned in that. He loves you, Lana. Only you.”

Alana looked into Rose’s blue eyes. “He’s there for me, Rosie as I’ll always be there for him. Oh, look—” her gaze went past her cousin “—it’s Dr Pitman.”

They all rose to their feet. They all knew Bill Pitman, who was in his early fifties and had a shock of pure white hair. He was the hospital’s cardiologist and head of the emergency team.

“Okay,” Pitman announced briskly, but with sympathy and understanding. “Alan has had a heart attack. It was that which caused him to lose consciousness at the wheel. Our immediate goal has been to ease his pain and discomfort. Now we have to clear the blocked coronary artery and restore bloodflow to the heart.” He turned to Guy. “Only you acting so quickly, getting him to the hospital in time, Guy, after pulling him out of the car, has ensured his survival. I won’t beat about the bush. Alan is a sick man. We all know he hasn’t been looking after himself. I’m going to keep him here for a day or so. I want to run more tests. He’ll need bypass surgery, so be prepared for that.”

“Can we see him?” Alana asked, experiencing a degree of relief that it had been an accident and not attempted suicide.

“For a moment only.” Bill Pitman smiled gently. “You and Kieran. Your father is groggy. He needs to be kept quiet.”

“Of course.” Guy, who had saved Alan Callaghan’s life, nodded his head on behalf of the rest of them.

The fact it had been an accident made quite a difference, Guy thought. He could see the relief neither Alana nor Kieran was able to keep out of their faces. Bypass surgery had a high success rate. With the proper care Alan Callaghan had many more years of life left. What he had to do was make huge change to his lifestyle. That was if he really wanted to live.

Alan Callaghan’s quadruple bypass was scheduled for ten days’ time. He was sent home on medication. There was no question of his touching alcohol. Alana was certain he’d make no attempt to, even when no one was around. Not that he was left on his own for any length of time. Kieran was managing the farm almost single-handedly. She devoted her time to her father watching him like a hawk, and when she took a short break Buddy, who had moved into the house from the cottage, was at hand.

“A man’s never alone for five minutes!” Alan Callaghan pretended to growl. “Can’t even go to the lavatory on my own.” It was true Buddy followed him there, on sentry duty outside the door.

The Wine Festival Dinner-Dance was to take place on the Saturday night, but Alana had no thought of going. She had to be home with her father. She was going to be extremely nervous until he had his operation, and stood over him while he took his medication. Simon came over frequently—mostly to see Alana, but genuinely concerned for her father’s health.

“Surely Buddy can watch your dad for a few hours?” he suggested. “He looks all right to me. In fact much better.” That at least was true.

“There will be other dinner-dances, Simon,” she said. “Take Rose. You and she have been spending a bit of time together, I hear.”

“Bless her. She’s been a big help when I’m really busy,” Simon said quite fondly. “It’s just as you said. There’s a lot more to Rose than meets the eye.”

“Gosh, I would have thought what meets the eye was good enough for most guys,” Alana said. “Maybe Rose is having a calming influence on you? As for me—one part of me is really sorry I’m missing out, the other knows where love and duty lie.”

But her father when he found out, wouldn’t hear of her missing out on the big night. “Alana, I won’t sleep until you tell me you’re going. I’m as right as rain, my girl. Haven’t you been noticing how much better I am? Would you deprive your father of the pleasure of seeing you all dressed up and winning The Naming? Think about it. I’d be far happier seeing you go off to the ball than seeing you sitting home with me. I can watch some television. Buddy will keep me company. Buddy’s perfectly capable of keeping an eye on me. As if I need it! I can’t have you worrying yourself sick about me. I want you to go.”

Alana had a problem. She didn’t have a dress.

Kieran worked close to the homestead while Alana took a quick trip into town. There were two excellent boutiques. Maybe she could find something to fit her budget?

She was coming out of the first boutique, having tried on several lovely but too expensive garments, intending to move on to another shop to check out what they had in stock, when a well-bred but severe-sounding voice hailed her.

“You’re going to the dinner-dance, then, Alana?”

Alana spun to look into Rebecca Radcliffe’s obsidian eyes. Of all the rotten luck! “Oh, hello, Mrs Radcliffe.” Hastily she put a smile on her face. “Dad doesn’t want me to miss out.”

“How is he?” Rebecca asked, with little show of concern.

“Much better, thank you.” Alana moved into the arcade for privacy. Rebecca followed suit. “He’s due to have a bypass on the fourteenth.”

Rebecca smiled thinly. “I know. My son tells me everything. I’m not quite sure what it is you want from my son, Alana. Perhaps, since we’re on our own, you can enlighten me?”

Alana knew a challenge when she heard it. She began a slow count to ten. “Mrs Radcliffe, Simon and I have been friends since we first started carrying school bags. Friends are what we are. I thought that was understood.”

“Oh, please.” Rebecca gave a nasty little jeer. “You know, I can’t figure you out, Alana. You don’t want my son, yet you can’t bear to let him go. You give him no chance to be with other girls, you demand his constant attention, and all the time you have your eye on Guy. No, don’t attempt to deny it. I’m no fool. Guy’s one of your little secrets, isn’t he? You’ve been infatuated with him for years now. I remember as if it were yesterday you looking up at him at your eighteenth birthday. I remember his kissing your cheek. I remember how you touched it afterwards. A dead give-away to anyone watching, as I was. Guy, of course, has an understanding with your cousin, Violette. You know that. But I suppose a girl can dream. You won’t get him, my dear. Though I suppose he can’t help being fascinated. You are beautiful. A heartbreaker, like your mother. But you won’t get Guy, mark my words. There’s bad blood there.”

Alana wasn’t as profoundly shocked as she once would have been. Nevertheless, she felt as though an arrow had pierced her heart. She stared back at Rebecca’s face, with its fine, cold features, for the longest time. “How dare you attempt to defile my mother’s memory?” she said, her voice low and vibrating with emotion. “I’d have a care, if I were you. Someone might start dragging out your secrets, and I bet you’ve got a few. What are you talking about anyway? Bad blood?” The anger that was in her showed in her sparkling eyes.

Rebecca Radcliffe gave another one of her thin, hateful smiles. “You’re such a passionate creature, aren’t you?” She made it sound like a serious character defect. “I know when to keep my mouth shut. There’s plenty that has been kept hidden. Plenty that has been kept within the family. I’m family. You forget, I was married to David Radcliffe’s brother.”

Alana’s Irish temper unfortunately got the better of her. “Who seemed pretty desperate to get away from you,” she shot back, then immediately apologised. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that. But I can’t stand here being insulted by you, Mrs Radcliffe. I’ve been through a pretty emotionally worrying time with my father. I won’t let you upset me further, though upsetting people is your specialty. If you’ve got concerns about Simon and me, speak to Simon. Personally, I think Simon’s big problem in life is you!”

That was all wrong, she fumed, as she rushed away. But didn’t Rebecca deserve it? Alana didn’t want to look at dresses any more. She didn’t want to go to the dinner-dance. Thoroughly upset, she kept on walking, past where she had intended to go and on to where she had parked the ute. What a dreadful woman Rebecca was. No wonder Simon lacked backbone, with a mother like that to drive him crazy. Alana was doing Rose a huge disservice, pushing her in Simon’s direction. Razor-tongued Violette was much better suited to dealing with a potential mother-in-law like Rebecca.

She had almost made it back to the ute when Guy, who was driving through town spotted her bright head. It really was a beacon, that mane, he thought—not for the first time. There was a parking spot just behind the utility. He pulled into it, getting out of the car and greeting her across the bonnet. “So—what are you doing in town?”

Her heart did its usual flip. This love of mine, she thought. This secret love of mine. “I haven’t been here for long,” she said, the tremble in her voice betraying her agitation. “I ran into Simon’s mother.”

“Aaah!” Guy expelled a long understanding breath, joining her on the pavement. “That must have been like running into an iceberg. So, what did she say?”

Alana put a hand to her temple. “Let’s see. Where shall I start?”

“Come and have a cup of coffee with me,” he said. “You can tell me then.”

“I should get home to Dad.”

“Coffee will give you a kick. We won’t be long.” He took her arm. “Actually, I wanted to suggest getting a trained nurse in to watch him this weekend. You are coming to the function?”

“I wasn’t.” She allowed herself to be steered towards the town’s newest and by far best bistro, run by an Italian family, newcomers to the district. They had turned an ordinary little café that had been losing money into a thriving business. The coffee was everything coffee should be, the light meals were delicious, and the specialty breads, the luscious little tarts, slices, mouth-watering cheesecakes, were all made on the premises by different members of the family.

“So, what changed your mind? Guy asked.

“Dad persuaded me. That’s what I was doing in town. I was after a dress.”

“Why don’t you let Alex pick a couple out for you in Sydney?” he suggested, as if that was the perfect solution. “She’d know exactly what would suit you.”

“I’m certain she would. Alex has superb taste. But perhaps I should tell you I’m on a budget.” Of course the Radcliffes didn’t know what budgets were. They had millions.

“I’m sure Alex could find you something ridiculously cheap and gorgeous at the same time,” Guy said smoothly. “She’d love to help out. You won’t find what you’re looking for here.”

“Most women aren’t prepared to pay astronomical prices for dresses,” she pointed out. “Anyway, I’m not going.”

“Yes, you are,” he coolly contradicted. “Personally, I’d be shocked if you didn’t win the title of most beautiful girl in the Valley wearing something run up from a hessian bag.”

Guy opened the glass-paned door of the bistro, allowing Alana to step into the relaxed charm of a large open room, decorated very much in the Italian style. The lunchtime wave was over—the bistro had been packed—so there were tables available. The grandfather of the family, Aldo—a big man, slightly overweight, still handsome in his early seventies, with warm, expressive brown eyes and a head of tightly furled white curls—hurried over to greet them, shepherding them happily towards the best table available.

They settled on the same thing. A slice of timballo, a marvellous home made chicken and mushroom pie in a pasta case. “And Mamma has made her famous hazelnut and chocolate cake,” Aldo confided, as though no one could possibly resist.

Alana looked up to smile. “Then I can’t say no.”

Guy gave a relaxed nod. “I won’t say no either, Aldo.” He’d had nothing since seven o’clock that morning. He didn’t normally stop for lunch, preferring to wait for dinner. “A glass each of one of your good dry whites with the timballo, one long black with the chocolate cake, and—what?—a cappuccino for you, Alana?”

“Perfect,” she sighed, realising not only how hungry she was but what wonderful restorative powers even the mention of food had. She recalled how her mother had adored reading cookbooks.

“Have you heard from your granddaughter?” Guy asked pleasantly, watching Aldo’s face light up with love and pride. Daniela Adami, at twenty-six, had worked with famous chefs in Paris and Rome. Guy had learned at present she was sous chef to the executive chef at a famous London hotel. The entire family were excellent cooks, but Daniela had taken things to an even higher level. She was a young cordon bleu, fast making a name for herself.

“She rang only last night,” Aldo told them. “She’s well and happy, but she’s missing the family. She’s been away from us for nearly five years now. Always climbing the ladder. One of these days she’ll come home and open her own restaurant. She is a real chef, our Daniela. Even the male chefs don’t mind taking orders from her in the kitchen. She’s as good with people as she is with food. We sent her back to Europe to learn, but there’s so much happening here in Australia. Great Australian chefs. Great Australian restaurants. Marvellous ingredients—ah, the sea food! Nothing short of superb!” He kissed the tips of his fingers. “We must pay homage to the great chef you have at your estate restaurant, Mr Radcliffe.”

“Why don’t you and your wife visit on Saturday night?” Guy suggested, knowing other members of the family would keep Aldo’s restaurant going. “I’ll arrange for a table. You’ll come as my guests. Who knows? Daniela might one day bring her culinary art to Wangaree Valley.”

Aldo burst into a flood of lyrical Italian, raising his hand over them like a priest giving a blessing.

“You’ve made his day,” Alana commented, as Aldo moved off to attend to their order.

“I like this family.” Guy looked around him. “They’re good for the town. I want them to fit in.”

“I think they already have.”

Thirty leisurely minutes later, they were walking back to their cars. “Feeling better?” asked Guy.

“Much,” Alana said, visibly perked up. “Simon’s mother is such an upsetting woman. She goes out of her way to be unpleasant. How did she come to have a sensitive, gentle son like Simon?”

Guy shrugged. “One of life’s great mysteries.”

“I pity the woman he ends up marrying,” Alana said, looking up at Guy with a frown. “I think we’ve done entirely the wrong thing, trying to set him up with Rose.”

“It must have slipped your attention that a girl like Rose wouldn’t offer Rebecca any challenge. You, on the other hand, do. Rose will know how to handle Rebecca. She’s by no means as empty headed as she acts.”

“Empty-headed?” Alana looked at him aghast. “I don’t believe you said that.”

“Just an observation. Let me rephrase it. Rose, however pretty, comes across as a little vapid when compared with you.”

“Damn it, Guy, you gave her a job!”

“Of course I did. It’s as I said. She’s pretty. She’s friendly. People like her. And she’s been given the opportunity to prove she’s a lot smarter than people give her credit for. I like Rose—I do. We get along well. Besides, it’s only my opinion.”

Alana broke into a wry laugh. “Lord only knows what your real opinion of me is, then.”

He glanced down on her head. “I can’t lie. You’d be flattered.” He used the remote to open his car. “Hop in for a moment,” he said, his hand on the passenger side door. “I have something I want to discuss with you. Won’t take a minute.”

“Why so mysterious?’ she asked, feeling more and more exposed the closer she got to him.

“Hop in,” he repeated.

“Whether I like it or not,” Alana muttered, doing as she was told.

A moment later Guy slipped into the driver’s seat beside her, all radiant male energy, completely in charge of himself. And her.

“I wanted to get your reaction first.” He turned to her, his dark eyes signalling serious business. “I know someone who would very much like to buy into the Valley. His family has been long established in the New England area. They own and run a well-known sheep station, Gilgarra.”

“Of course I’ve heard of it,” Alana said.

“Yes, well, I went to school and university with Linc, but he has an older brother. He wants a place of his own. He never did get on with his father anyway. I don’t think Alan would have any difficulty selling Linc Briar’s Ridge for a good price.”

Alana sat clutching her handbag in her lap. Her face showed a whole range of emotions. “You’ve gone ahead and discussed it with this Linc?” she asked.