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Her Cattleman Boss
Barbara Hannay
He’s tanned, rough and ready, and driving this city-girl crazy!When Kate Brodie inherits half a rundown cattle station she doesn’t expect to have a sexy cattleman boss to contend with! Noah Carmody doesn’t need a city-girl like Kate trying her pretty hand at Outback life, but he’s a single dad now, and needs help restoring Radnor to its former glory.Kate’s the only person within a hundred miles who will help him, so he’ll grudgingly show her the ropes… As they toil together under the Outback sun, romance should be the last thing on their minds…shouldn’t it?
Noah asked, ‘Does your skin sting?’
‘Not much. The cold water helped.’
His serious grey eyes searched Kate’s face, and then, even more gently, he touched the tip of his forefinger to the tip of hers. ‘How’s that?’
‘Fine.’
He did the same to the next finger. ‘How about now?’
‘It’s OK,’ she whispered breathlessly. ‘Thank you.’
For a moment there she wondered if Noah was actually flirting—if he was going to kiss her fingers. She imagined his lips lingering on the palm of her hand and running kisses up her arm, like the hero of an old-fashioned romance.
What had happened to her common sense? Last time she’d made a fool of herself over Noah it had taken her years to recover. It was pointless to expect anything but friendship. Romance was the last thing on his mind. He was still getting over his divorce, and he had a daughter to worry about.
As soon as these cattle were safely delivered, he would thank Kate for her help, then expect her to retire gracefully and discreetly out of his life. On the first plane back to England.
Mills & Boon® Romanceis delighted to bring you another fantastic storyfrom Australian author
Barbara Hannay
Barbara brings you a sparkling storythat’s brimming with emotional insightand sparky interaction!
Praise for the author:
‘Barbara Hannay [delivers] very layeredand life-like characters and a premise that isoverflowing with deep, emotional issues.’—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
‘Barbara Hannay’s name on the coveris a sure-fire guarantee of a good read.’—CataRomance Reviews
Barbara Hannay was born in Sydney, educated in Brisbane, and has spent most of her adult life living in tropical North Queensland, where she and her husband have raised four children. While she has enjoyed many happy times camping and canoeing in the bush, she also delights in an urban lifestyle—chamber music, contemporary dance, movies and dining out. An English teacher, she has always loved writing, and now, by having her stories published, she is living her most cherished fantasy. Visit www.barbarahannay.com
HER CATTLEMAN BOSS
BY
BARBARA HANNAY
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHAPTER ONE
KATE Brodie stood with her suitcase beside her, her sensible jacket folded over her arm, and looked across the stretch of sunburned grass to the site of her first and worst heartbreak.
She had hoped to feel calmer about coming back to the Australian Outback after nine years, but her first glimpse of the low, sprawling homestead baking beneath the harsh sun sent her stomach churning like a tumble dryer.
Such an annoying reaction after all this time. She was no longer the naïve English teenager who’d come to her uncle’s cattle property for a holiday. She’d recovered years ago from the embarrassing crush she’d wasted on Noah Carmody, her uncle’s handsome young stockman.
Kate looked again at the silent homestead with its ripple-iron roof, reaching low like a shady hat over deep verandas, and her throat tightened painfully. She could almost picture her Uncle Angus standing at the top of the front steps, waiting to welcome her, his silver hair shining in the sun’s dazzle and his smile as wide as his open arms.
He’d lived in virtual exile in Australia—which had always seemed like the bottom of the world to Kate—but he’d been her only male relative and she’d loved knowing that he was there, like a deep-sea anchor. It was so hard to accept that he’d gone for ever.
Turning slowly, she looked about her, taking in the vastness, the overwhelming emptiness of the Outback. The tourist coach that had brought her from Cunnamulla had already disappeared into the shimmering heat haze and flat, red earth dotted with grey clumps of dried grass stretched as far as the eye could see.
Her uncle’s letters had hinted at the prolonged drought in this part of Australia, but she was shocked to see how desperately hot and dry it was.
Nine years ago, these same parched paddocks had been oceans of lush grass, and the creeks had run with clear, fresh water. Pretty green lawns and bright flower-filled gardens had surrounded the homestead.
Now, with the gardens gone, every blade of grass shrivelled, and the earth sun-bleached and bone-hard, the homestead had lost its grandeur. It looked sad and faded, as if it, too, had succumbed to the cruelty of the withering sun.
Four lone frangipani trees had survived the drought and they stood, two on either side of the front steps, like maids of honour. They were ablaze with extravagant blooms, and their gaudy splashes of colour were like thick daubs in an oil painting—pristine white, sharp lemon, deep rosy-pink and rich apricot.
A photographer’s dream.
But now wasn’t the time for photographs…
A hot wind gusted, picking up gritty dust and throwing it in Kate’s face. She ducked her head and blinked hard. After her tediously long journey, dirt in her eyes was almost too much. She was weary to the bone. Jet lagged.
And she still had to face up to Noah.
Which shouldn’t be a problem. She was sure Noah Carmody had long forgotten the awkwardness of her teenage infatuation. For heaven’s sake, it had all happened when she was seventeen. Noah had recognised her crush, had taken pity on her and kissed her.
Unfortunately, she’d responded with a wantonness that had shocked him. That was the embarrassing part Kate fervently hoped Noah had forgotten.
She’d been so wild and headstrong back then, so desperately in love with him. And with the buoyancy of youth she’d bounced back from his rejection. Focusing on the kiss rather than the rejection, she’d gone home to England with her head full of dreams of leaving school, of getting a job, and saving hard to return to Australia.
She’d planned to work as a jillaroo in the Outback, to meet up with Noah again, and she’d been sure that, given time, she could win his heart and marry him.
Fool.
How pathetic she’d been, fighting her mother’s protests and refusing to get her A levels, or to go to university. She’d given up everything for that one dream. And then, at about the same time she’d earned the money to buy her plane ticket to Australia, word had arrived via Uncle Angus that Noah had married an Australian girl.
Even now, all these years later, the memory of that letter made Kate’s throat close over. Thank God she’d eventually recovered. It had taken years, but at last Kate was normal. Her latest boyfriend, Derek Jenkins, was a rising star in London banking and Kate was quietly confident that she was over Noah. Completely and permanently over him.
When she saw him again, she would be as reserved and polite as he’d always been with her, and the only emotion she would show would be her grief over Angus’s passing.
Now Kate marched resolutely across the final stretch of dirt to the front steps, where an elderly cattle-dog, sleeping beneath the low veranda, lifted his head and blinked hazel eyes at her. He rose stiffly and approached her, his blue-and-white-flecked tail wagging.
Kate stopped. She hadn’t had much experience of large dogs, and she expected him to bark, but he remained utterly silent, watching her keenly.
‘Is anyone home?’ she asked.
The dog gave another lazy wag of his tail, and then retreated to the shade beneath the floorboards, like a pensioner allowed to enjoy the shade after a lifetime of hard work.
Kate couldn’t blame him for keeping out of the sun. Already she could feel it stinging the back of her neck. Sweat trickled into the V of her bra and made her skin itch. She hurried up the short flight of timber steps into the welcome shade on the homestead veranda.
And stopped dead.
The very man she’d been fretting over was sprawled in a canvas chair. Shirtless.
Kate gulped. And stared.
His face was covered by a broad-brimmed akubra, but she couldn’t mistake that long, rangy body and those impossibly wide shoulders. His bare chest was bronzed and broad, and it rose and fell rhythmically.
By contrast, Kate’s breathing went haywire.
It was the shock, she told herself, the shock of finding Noah Carmody asleep at midday. The last, the very last thing she’d expected.
She’d invaded his privacy, but, heaven help her, she couldn’t stop staring.
She took another step and the veranda’s bare floorboards creaked, but Noah didn’t move. Her gaze fixed on his hands, large, long fingered, suntanned and beautiful, loosely folded over the belt buckle of his jeans.
Carefully, she set her suitcase down and continued to stare. His hips were lean, his thighs strong, and his blue-jeans-clad legs seemed to stretch endlessly in front of him. He’d removed one riding boot and kicked it aside, and his right foot now looked strangely exposed and intimate in a navy blue sock with a hole in the big toe. No doubt he’d fallen asleep in this chair before he’d got the other boot off.
‘Noah?’
Kate’s lips formed the word, but no sound came out. She sent another hasty glance beyond the veranda, to the wide expanse of dry, empty plains spreading to infinity in every direction. She’d get no help from out there.
The house was silent, too. The front door was slightly ajar, offering a hint of a darkened and cool interior, but no sounds came from inside. Beside the door, an old hat with a battered crown hung on a row of pegs, and next to it a horse’s bridle and a leather belt with a pocket-knife pouch. The possibility that her Uncle Angus had left them there, planning to use them again, burned a lump in Kate’s throat.
She took another careful step towards the door. Someone must be awake—Noah’s wife, or a housekeeper at least. But if she knocked she might disturb Noah. To Kate’s dismay, her confidence shrank to zilch at the thought of that tall, muscle-packed, bare-chested man waking and setting his cool grey eyes on her.
She could avoid waking him if she went round to the back door. Then she would find the housekeeper in the kitchen. It was almost midday, for heaven’s sake, and someone should be up and about. No doubt that someone should wake Noah…
Turning carefully, she began to tiptoe, retracing her steps over the creaking veranda floorboards to the steps. Halfway across the veranda, she heard a deep, gravelly voice.
‘Kate?’
She spun around.
It was just as she’d feared.
Noah was out of his chair, standing tall. So tall. And heart-stoppingly attractive with a day’s growth of dark beard shadowing his jaw. His eyes narrowed against the sun’s glare. ‘It is you, Kate, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ Little more than a squeak emerged from her tight throat. ‘Hello.’ She swallowed awkwardly. ‘Hello, Noah.’
‘Yes. Of course it’s you.’ His teeth flashed white in his suntanned face as he grinned. ‘No one else has that colour hair.’
He crossed the veranda swiftly, and Kate thought, for a pulse-raising moment, that he was going to hug her. Her mind galloped, and with alarming ease she prepared herself for being hauled into his arms.
His bare chest would be warm and solid, and his satin-smooth skin would be stretched over muscles that were whipcord-hard after so many years of working in the Outback. Those amazing, strong arms would be about her once more. So sexy. And comforting, too, after her long and exhausting journey.
But Noah didn’t hug her. Of course. She should have known he’d be careful and distant.
He held out his hand and shook hers formally. ‘This is a surprise—a nice surprise—Kate. I’m afraid I—I’ve been in a bit of a mess since Angus’s death. But it’s good to see you.’
‘You too.’
Shadows lingered beneath his eyes and his cheekbones seemed more prominent than they’d been nine years ago.
She said, ‘I was terribly shocked to hear about Uncle Angus.’
Noah shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. ‘It was so sudden.’
His light grey eyes assessed her, taking in her too-fair skin and her travel-rumpled clothes, her pale-red hair, already limp after little more than an hour in the Outback’s heat.
He lowered his glance to take in his own shirtless state and his mouth tilted sideways in an apologetic smile. Turning quickly, he snagged his shirt—faded blue cotton—from the back of the chair and he shrugged it on, his big shoulders straining its seams.
Covertly, Kate watched the fluid, deft movement of his fingers as he closed the buttons. Starting from the bottom, inch by inch, like a striptease in reverse, his hunky brown torso disappeared beneath the thin fabric. She hoped she didn’t sigh, but she couldn’t be sure.
Noah sat down again to pull on his abandoned boot. ‘As you can see, I wasn’t expecting you. I’m sorry. I’m afraid the wake went rather late last night.’
‘The wake?’ Kate frowned in puzzlement.
‘We held a wake for Angus in the Blue Heeler pub in Jindabilla. A huge crowd came. People from all over the Channel Country.’ Noah’s eyes lightened momentarily. ‘We gave him a great send off.’
‘But—but—’ Kate couldn’t hold back the tremor in her voice. ‘But you don’t usually have a wake before the funeral, do you?’
At first Noah didn’t respond.
His mouth pulled in at the corners and his bright gaze narrowed. ‘No, not usually.’ His voice was cautious and quiet, and his hand came up to scratch the side of his neck. ‘Hell,’ he whispered.
‘What? What’s the matter?’
He looked pained and rubbed at the side of his forehead, and she wondered if he had a headache. A hangover?
‘You’ve come for the funeral.’ He spoke softly, without looking at her, almost as if he was talking to himself.
‘Well, yes. Of course that’s why I’ve come.’
He almost winced as his gaze met hers. ‘I’m sorry Kate. I’m afraid the funeral was yesterday. Yesterday afternoon.’
She stared at him in disbelief.
His Adam’s apple rippled as he swallowed.
Spinning away from him, she clutched blindly at the veranda railing. Her mouth trembled and tears stung, then spilled. How could this have happened? She’d come all this way!
‘Why—?’ She swiped at her cheeks, pressed three fingers against her lips as she struggled for composure. Took a breath. ‘Why didn’t you wait for me?’ she asked, without daring to look at Noah.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said again and his voice was exceedingly gentle. ‘We didn’t—I didn’t know you were coming.’
‘But I said I’d come.’ She glared at him. ‘I telephoned. I spoke to someone here. I told her I was delayed, but I said I was definitely coming.’
She bit down on her lip to hold back a sob. Noah had no idea how deeply she’d always loved her uncle. And he couldn’t possibly understand that she’d sacrificed an important photographic assignment to come all this way at such short notice. Or that she’d come despite her mother’s bewildering indifference to her brother’s death.
When Kate had announced that she would attend Angus’s funeral, her mother had been predictably surprised, almost offended. ‘Darling, no one down there will expect you.’
But Kate was used to her family’s antipathy to their Australian relatives and had learned to ignore it.
Her boyfriend, by contrast, had been disconcertingly eager. ‘Of course you must go. Stayas long as you like and have a holiday.’ Not a word about missing her. Until she’d asked. And then, of course, Derek had told her she’d be missed enormously.
So, despite mild misgivings, Kate had been determined to come. It was very important to make a showing of family solidarity. She’d wanted, more than anything, to demonstrate to this tight-knit Outback community that at least someone among Angus Harrington’s distant family cared, really cared, about his passing.
And she’d wanted the comfort of ritual, of a church service and a kindly minister saying prayers. Without that, she felt as if she couldn’t really say goodbye.
But now… She’d flown all this way, had travelled more than ten thousand tedious miles—in a jet, then a tiny inland plane no bigger than a bird, and then finally in a bouncing bus over narrow and bumpy Outback roads—for nothing.
Nothing.
Fighting her gathering exhaustion and despair, she turned to Noah, her voice rising on a querulous note. ‘I spoke to a woman. I thought she was your housekeeper. I can’t believe she didn’t tell you I was coming.’
A muscle worked in Noah’s jaw. Frowning, he shook his head. ‘You can’t have spoken to Ellen. She’s been in such a state since Angus died, I sent her into town to stay with her sister.’
Kate huffed angrily. ‘Well, I don’t know who it was then. I was on my mobile and the line kept cutting out, but I told her that I was held up at Heathrow. We had terrible snow and high winds all over England, and there were twenty-four-hour delays at every airport.’
Sighing heavily, Noah stood with his hands sunk on his hips, not meeting Kate’s gaze but looking somewhere out beyond, to the faded sky that hung listlessly above the parched brown paddocks.
‘Truly, I’m very sorry, Kate. I didn’t get your message. I—I think you must have spoken to Liane.’
‘Your wife?’
‘My ex-wife. She came back for the funeral.’
‘Ex?’
‘We were divorced just before Christmas.’
Kate struggled to breathe. Not an easy task when a string of explosions was detonating inside her. She felt as if she was tumbling through the air in slow motion. Noah was no longer married and her world had turned upside down.
In the awkward silence Noah said again, ‘I’m really sorry about the funeral, Kate.’
The defeated tone in his voice surprised her. He offered no further explanation. It was almost as if he expected that his former wife would have neglected to pass on an important message. Kate had no choice but to accept that she’d missed the funeral. It was a fait accompli.
But she’d come such a long way.
Noah picked up her suitcase and said in the quiet, laconic drawl of the Australian Outback, ‘You’d better come inside and I’ll brew up a cuppa.’
Kate forced a small smile. ‘I think I could really do with some tea.’
With a gentlemanly sweep of his arm, he motioned for her to enter the house ahead of him. They went down a long passage which, she remembered, cut straight through the middle of the house to the big kitchen at the back.
‘I’ll put your things in this spare room,’ he said, ducking into a bedroom that opened off to the right.
‘Are you the only person here?’
‘At the moment, yes. Ellen will be back soon.’
‘Is it all right for me to stay here tonight?’
‘Sure.’ He shot her a puzzled glance. ‘Don’t look so worried, Kate. No one expects you to jump on the next plane back to England.’
‘I couldn’t face that.’
‘This room’s yours, for as long as you need it.’
‘Thanks.’ She looked about her, amazed by how familiar the little bedroom felt. She was sure she recognised the single bed with old-fashioned brass ends and white candlewick spread.
Faded pink curtains hung over French doors that opened onto a side veranda. A very old, silky oak wardrobe with an oval mirror stood against the far wall. Looking about her, Kate was sure it was the room she’d slept in when she’d been here all those years ago.
Yes… She recognised the photo of her grandfather hanging on the wall. With his shock of white hair, thick white moustache and erect posture, and seated in a cane peacock-chair on the homestead veranda with his faithful dog at his feet, he looked like a throwback to the British Raj.
She remembered the emotional storms she’d weathered during the summer she’d spent here, how she’d hovered on the veranda, hoping to catch sight of Noah. The blissful heights and savage depths of youthful passion and unrequited love. The embarrassment. A shiver rustled through her. She hoped Noah didn’t notice.
With her suitcase stowed, they continued on down the passage to the kitchen.
This room hadn’t changed either, Kate decided as she looked about her at the huge black stove set in a galvanized-iron recess, and the big scrubbed-pine table dominating the room’s centre. A crumpled green-and-white-striped tea towel had been flung carelessly over the back of one of the mismatched chairs, and a clutter of kitchen utensils dangled from hooks above the stove.
On the far wall a row of shutters had been pushed wide open to catch the slightest hint of breeze. Everything was unpretentious and homely, just as she remembered, and she found this strangely unsettling. It was like stepping back in time.
Noah put the kettle on the stove and lit the gas beneath it. ‘I have to go into town this afternoon for the reading of the will,’ he said.
‘That’s OK. I’ll be fine here.’
‘You should come too.’
She’d given absolutely no thought to legal matters, but she was sure her uncle’s will would be very straightforward. Angus Harrington had been a bachelor, and she’d always understood that he’d planned to leave this property to Noah.
Noah had been born here on Radnor station. His father, Joe Carmody, had been head stockman, but there’d been a tragic accident—a light-plane crash in which both Noah’s parents had been killed. Uncle Angus had taken the boy into his home and, although he had never adopted Noah formally, he’d raised him as his own son.
Kate watched Noah now as he moved with familiar ease about the kitchen, fetching mugs and a brown china teapot and yellow sugarbowl.
He looked as at home in this kitchen as he had when she’d seen him working outdoors, or riding a stockhorse. He belonged here, and she couldn’t imagine him living anywhere else.
As he set the mugs and sugar bowl on the table, she said, ‘I can’t see why I need to go to the solicitor’s.’
‘You’re Angus’s blood relative. You should be there.’
‘My mother might be Uncle Angus’s sister, but she’s spent her entire life ignoring him.’
Noah simply shrugged. The kettle came to the boil and he turned to the stove to attend to it. Kate watched him pour boiling water into the teapot, and she couldn’t help admiring the way he managed to make a simple domesticated task look manly.
‘If you like,’ he said as he set the teapot on a cane table-mat, ‘I’ll give Alan Davidson, the solicitor, a quick call and ask if there’s any need for you to show up. It’ll only take a tick.’
Kate offered a mystified smile. ‘If you insist, but I hope I’m not needed. I’m dreadfully tired.’
‘The tea will refresh you. Do you mind helping yourself?’
‘Not at all,’ she told his departing back.
She poured a mug of tea. It was a strong brew and piping hot. She added milk and sugar, took her mug to the window and sipped hot tea while she looked out at the scattering of farm sheds and the dry, thirsty paddocks.
This property—named Radnor by Kate’s grandfather after his beloved Radnor Hills in England—didn’t look like a prize inheritance now, in the middle of a drought.
But she could remember her uncle’s boast that, when the rains returned, the Channel Country provided some of the best grazing land in Queensland. One good wet season could change the entire district in a matter of weeks.
Mighty river systems with strangely exotic names like Barcoo, Bulloo and Diamantina would bring water from the north, spreading into tributaries, into hundreds of creeks and billabongs, like blood filling arteries, drenching the hungry earth and bringing it back to life.
People who lived here needed faith to ride out the tough times until the good rains returned and thick feed covered the ground once more. Kate’s mother, sequestered in England, had never understood that.
Noah, on the other hand, knew it implicitly.
Kate drank more tea and sighed heavily. She was deathly tired. Jet lag was making her head spin. And she still felt a crushing disappointment at missing the funeral.
Footsteps sounded in the passage and she turned to see Noah coming through the doorway, his grey eyes unreadable, his mouth a straight, inscrutable line. ‘Alan Davidson was most definite. You should attend the reading of the will.’
Kate shook her head in annoyance. Didn’t people around here understand about jet lag? She couldn’t bear the thought of bouncing back down that bumpy road into Jindabilla. ‘I’m too tired,’ she said, and she yawned widely to prove it. ‘I’ll probably fall asleep in the middle of the reading.’
‘Take another mug of tea to your room and rest for an hour.’ Noah spoke quietly, but with an unmistakable air of authority. ‘Feel free to use the bathroom across the passage from your room. But be ready to leave at two-thirty.’
Kate knew she’d been given an order.
CHAPTER TWO
NOAH shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden chair in the solicitor’s office, and watched a lonely ceiling fan struggle to bring relief to the over-dressed group in the crowded room. Neck ties were a rarity in the summer heat, but he and Alan Davidson had worn them today out of respect for their good friend, Angus.
James Calloway, Liane’s city lawyer, had gone one better and was wearing a spiffy business suit and a striped bow-tie that looked suspiciously like those worn by the old boys’ clubs of Sydney’s private schools. James was, Noah noted, very red in the face.
Old Angus would be chuckling if he could see this mob, suffering on his behalf.
But Noah had little to laugh about. He’d been through one hell of a week—the shock of Angus’s sudden death, the heart-rending task of spreading the sad news, the struggle to focus on arrangements for the funeral and a fitting farewell. And then, everything had been soured by his ex-wife’s unexpected appearance in Jindabilla with her fancy lawyer in tow.
The nerve of Liane—showing up out of the blue and coming to the funeral, as if she didn’t know that old Angus had, in the end, despised her and blamed her for bringing unhappiness to the people he loved.
She was still causing trouble. Noah couldn’t forgive her for neglecting to pass on Kate Brodie’s message. It was beyond embarrassing that Angus’s niece had travelled all the way from England and had missed everything. The minister could easily have held the funeral off for another day or two.
But it was just as sickening to discover that Liane was here now for the reading of the will. What the hell did she think she was up to? She’d cleaned him out during the divorce. What more could she want? The question made Noah’s jaw clench so tightly his teeth threatened to crack.
Alan Davidson shuffled the papers on his desk and looked tentatively around at the gathering. He gave a quiet nod to Noah, and a poor attempt at a friendly smile to Kate, who was sitting stiffly to one side near the window, as if she wanted to separate herself from the rest of them. And who, thought Noah, could blame her?
He let his gaze rest on her—an extremely pleasant distraction. She was dressed simply in a cream blouse and a brown linen skirt. Sunlight, streaming through the wooden slats of the blinds, shot fiery lights into her whisky-coloured hair and added a pink glow to her delicate English complexion. Her eyes were the softest shade of green.
Back at the homestead, she’d looked washed out, a pale shadow of the lively, flirtatious girl who’d come here for a holiday. But, given her long journey and jet lag, that wasn’t surprising.
Now, sitting in the golden beams of afternoon light, with her autumn hair and her brown skirt, she looked tranquil and undeniably eye-catching. Like a sexy version of a Rembrandt painting.
Alan Davidson opened the folder in front of him, snapping Noah roughly back to the business at hand. Noah’s fingers reached for the knot of his tie, and he longed to loosen it to relieve the sudden strangling sensation that clawed at his throat.
He had no reason to be nervous, and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Watching Noah’s restlessness, Kate wished she was anywhere but here. It wasn’t just jet lag making her so ill at ease. She could have cut the tension in the room with a knife. In spite of his suntan, Noah looked pale, and he kept shifting in his chair. Now he was sitting ramrod straight, with his jaw clenched and his hands fisted on his knees, his knuckles white.
Her heart went out to him. She knew he’d loved her uncle as deeply as any son could, and he was still grappling with his grief. But at least he would walk out of this office today as the new owner of Radnor cattle station. Uncle Angus had told her mother years ago not to expect anything from him because it would all go to Noah. So why did Noah look so worried now?
Did he sense, as she did, that something wasn’t right? Alan Davidson, the balding, middle-aged solicitor, shouldn’t have been worried, but he looked almost as uneasy as Noah. He kept adjusting his glasses and opening his document folder, then closing it again.
The cocky man in the city suit—who’d been introduced as James Calloway, Liane’s lawyer from Sydney—was on edge in a different way. He had an air of contained expectation, and he kept sending Liane sneaky sideways winks, almost as if he knew something the others didn’t. Kate disliked his smugness and the way he kept inspecting his super-clean fingernails.
The only person in the room who looked relaxed was Noah’s former wife. Liane had speedily found the most comfortable chair in the room, and she sat now with an easy elegance that displayed her long legs and expensive dress to their best advantage.
She was exceptionally pretty—very fair and very slim with bright-blue eyes fringed by long, dark lashes. Model-perfect looks, Kate decided, with that particular air of feminine awareness that brought men to their knees. Poor Noah. He must have loved her desperately. Maybe he still did?
As Kate watched, Liane leaned towards her lawyer and rested her perfectly manicured hand on his knee. Was James Calloway her lover now, or did Liane like to tease?
At last, the solicitor made a throat-clearing sound to break the silence.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said quietly, ‘Thank you for coming here today.’ He placed his square hands on the folder in front of him. ‘I have in my possession two wills for Angus Harrington. One that was made many years ago, and another that was drawn up three months ago.’
He looked at them over the top of his glasses. No one spoke or moved, but Kate felt a new ripple of disquiet spread through the room, as if a stone had been dropped into a pond, disrupting its smooth surface.
‘I’ll cut to the chase and provide a summary.’ Alan Davidson lifted a sheet from the papers in front of him. ‘The property of Radnor, its buildings, stock, vehicles and equipment, were Angus Harrington’s only assets.’
As he spoke, the solicitor let his gaze shift from person to person in the room. ‘There were some cash reserves, but those funds have been depleted by the long drought. There won’t be much left in the bank by the time the final debts and mortgages are settled.’
He paused, looked down at the papers, then directed his attention to Noah. ‘Noah, Angus left you a half-share of Radnor, its assets and its debts.’
A half-share?
Kate saw the flare of shock in Noah’s eyes.
She was shocked too. And confused. What did this mean?
The solicitor turned quickly to Kate. ‘Ms Brodie.’
Her hand flew to her throat and her heart began to thump mercilessly.
‘It was your uncle’s wish that you should inherit the other half of his estate.’
‘No,’ she whispered.
Alan Davidson frowned.
‘No.’ Kate shook her head. ‘There must be a mistake.’
‘Of course it’s a mistake!’ cried Liane. ‘That can’t possibly be right.’
Grim faced, the solicitor held out the sheet of paper, pointing with his finger to the appropriate words, but they swam before Kate’s eyes. She felt vague and confused, as if this was happening to someone else.
‘Ms Brodie,’ Alan said. ‘In the revised will, your uncle’s intention was quite clear. In fact, his insistence that you be included as a beneficiary is the reason the will was changed.’
Stunned, Kate looked from the solicitor to Noah’s stony face. This didn’t make sense. She couldn’t possibly own half of an Australian cattle property. Why on earth would her uncle do that?
Why would he do it to Noah?
Before she could find the words to frame a question, Noah’s ex-wife leapt to her feet.
‘James, you told me you could get me half of everything Noah inherited. How can this little biddy from England sneak though the back door and take my share?’
Hands on hips, Liane darted fiery sneers at them all. ‘I’m entitled to a half-share of that property. I wasted the best years of my life in that ghastly place, living under the same roof as that awful old man.’
Calloway reached for her hand and tried to pull her back down into her chair, but she shook him away.
‘Noah owes me, and he knows it. They can’t do this to me. It’s ridiculous. I want my money.’
Noah, darkly furious, refused to respond.
Kate watched from her seat, mortified. She felt responsible for this fiasco. But utterly helpless. She hadn’t asked for an inheritance. What had Uncle Angus been thinking?
As she sat, wondering what on earth she should say or do, the door from the outer office began to open. Just a crack at first, and then wider, and one half of a small face appeared.
The door inched open wider and Kate saw a little girl aged about seven or eight. She was fair-skinned and petite, with freckles across her nose and wavy, light brown hair that almost reached her shoulders. Her eyes were the exact shade of grey as Noah’s eyes, but right now they were round with worry and fixed on Liane.
Kate wondered if she was Olivia, Noah and Liane’s daughter. Perhaps she’d been told to wait outside. Had she been upset by the high-pitched agitation in her mother’s voice?
Liane hadn’t noticed the child and she continued to rant. ‘On your feet, James! You’ll have to start calling your people in Sydney. I want this matter settled right now.’
With that, Calloway was hauled unceremoniously out of his chair.
Kate rose, too, but in a more dignified manner. She swallowed nervously. ‘I don’t understand my uncle’s decision. I’m as shocked as anyone else. But it might be easier for you to discuss this complication if I wait outside.’
Liane glared at her suspiciously.
Noah looked as if he might have spoken, but Kate gestured to the small figure in the doorway. ‘The little girl.’
Noah’s head whipped round and, when he saw her, his face morphed into a mix of delight and despair.
Liane snapped at the child. ‘I told you to wait outside!’
The girl’s eyes grew huge. Her mouth trembled, and she looked very much as if she was about to burst into tears.
‘I could wait with her,’ Kate volunteered.
Noah sent her a look of immense gratitude, while Liane gave a little annoyed huff and shrugged her shoulders impatiently. ‘Whatever.’
Relieved to escape, Kate shut the office door behind her and drew a deep breath. She wished, rather recklessly given the circumstances, that the ownership of Radnor could be settled by the time this door opened again.
She smiled at the little girl. ‘Hello,’ she said warmly as she held out her hand. ‘We haven’t met, but I’ve heard about you, Olivia. I’m Kate. I’m a friend of your—of your father’s.’
‘Hello.’ Olivia did not offer her hand and she didn’t return Kate’s smile. She looked again at the closed door separating her from her parents.
The voices on the other side were mostly muffled, except for Liane’s high-pitched, angry demands.
‘Why are they fighting?’ Olivia asked. ‘What’s happening in there?’
‘It’s a business discussion. And I’m afraid business can get rather complicated at times.’
Kate nodded towards a long, pew-like seat against the opposite wall. ‘Shall we wait there?’
Olivia shook her head. ‘I’m tired of sitting. I’ve been sitting for ages ’n’ ages.’
A quick flick through the reading material on the coffee table showed Kate that none of it was suitable for children. She wondered if she should try to tell the little girl a story, but story telling wasn’t really her forte.
Olivia pointed to the open door leading out to the sunlit street. ‘Can we go outside?’
‘Well…’ Aware of the heated discussion on the other side of the door, Kate made a snap decision. ‘Why not? I don’t suppose anyone will mind.’ After all, Jindabilla was a very tiny country town, hardly more than one wide, dusty main street. No chance of getting lost.
The little girl was already skipping towards the door. ‘There’s a beautiful pig out there.’ Her eyes were shining suddenly.
‘A pig?’ Good grief. What a quantum leap, to come from discussing wills and inheritances to pigs.
On the footpath, Kate shaded her gaze against the sun’s glare. ‘Where is this pig?’
‘In the back of that blue ute outside the pub.’
Even if Olivia hadn’t described the utility truck so accurately, Kate could hardly miss the stream of snuffling oinks and squeals.
Her head was whirling. She was still stunned by her uncle’s will, still feeling Noah’s shock. She glanced back to the solicitor’s office. What was going on in there? What had they decided?
‘Can’t you hear him?’ Olivia cried, giving Kate’s hand a tug.
‘Of course I can.’ Kate smiled. ‘And I can see him.’ A distinctly piggy snout and a dirty pink trotter appeared over the ute’s tray back.
‘He’s so cute! Lift me up! I want to see him properly.’
The little girl’s reticence was a thing of the past, and she held her arms up to Kate as if they’d been best friends for ever.
Kate couldn’t help suspecting that Liane would object to her daughter being lifted up to admire a pig, but she was charmed by the child’s eagerness—so different from the worry in her eyes a few moments earlier. She hoisted Olivia onto her hip and together they peered at the small pink pig that looked up at them with pale, expectant eyes.
‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’
‘He is rather cute,’ Kate admitted.
Olivia’s face was a picture of enraptured adoration. With one skinny arm around Kate’s neck, she reached out with the other to pat the top of the little pig’s head. ‘Daddy says that pigs are terribly clever. They’re much cleverer than cows, and they’re even cleverer than dogs.’
‘I didn’t know that. But I’ve heard they make great pets.’
Olivia beamed at her joyously. ‘This one’s so handsome; I want to call him Baby Prince Charming.’
Kate laughed. ‘Why not? I couldn’t imagine a better name for him.’
The pig squealed and snuffled, and Olivia made oinking noises back at him. But eventually she grew heavy, and Kate set her back on the footpath.
She half-expected the child to protest, but Olivia took her hand in a gesture of such innocent trust that Kate felt a lump in her throat. ‘Are— are pigs your favourite animal?’ she asked.
‘Probably.’ A wistful expression came over her little face. ‘When I lived with Daddy, we had lots and lots of animals—piglets and chickens and ducklings and calves.’
‘And puppies?’
‘Lots of puppies.’ Her bottom lip drooped. ‘I can’t have pets any more.’
‘Because you live in the city?’
She nodded. ‘Mummy said we’re not allowed to have any pets in our apartment. Not even a goldfish.’
Kate understood Olivia’s disappointment. Her own mother had never been fond of animals, and she felt a rush of sympathy for the child. After the rustic casualness of life in an Outback homestead, where sticky fingers posed no threat and a puppy on the couch were the norm, it would be very hard to get used to a slick and shiny city apartment.
‘But you must have all kinds of exciting things to do in the city,’ she suggested diplomatically.
‘Not really. Sydney’s boring.’
Before Kate could respond, Liane’s voice sounded shrilly behind them. She turned to see the child’s mother and James Calloway charging down the footpath.
Completely ignoring Kate, Liane thrust her hand towards her daughter. ‘Come along now,’ she ordered with an imperious tilt of her chin.
A fleeting expression that might have been fear flickered over the little girl’s face, but it was gone so quickly Kate decided that she must have imagined it.
‘We’ve found a pig,’ Olivia told her mother.
‘Good God.’ Liane’s lips curled in an expression of distaste. She gave another impatient shake of her outstretched hand. ‘Now, come on, Olivia. We’ve got to get back to the motel. We have a lot of important phone calls to make.’
The little girl hesitated and chewed her lip. ‘Can I stay tonight with Daddy?’
‘No, of course you can’t.’ Her mother rolled her eyes. ‘First thing in the morning we’re getting out of this dump and back home to Sydney.’ She grabbed the little girl’s hand. ‘Come on, now. No nonsense.’
Rising quickly onto tiptoes, Olivia whispered to Kate, ‘Can you say goodbye to Baby Prince Charming for me?’
‘Of course,’ Kate whispered back. ‘I promise.’
Her smile faltered as she watched the trio—mother, daughter and sharp Sydney lawyer—hurry away down the dusty footpath. As they rounded a corner, Olivia looked back, just once, over her shoulder, and lifted her hand to send Kate a quick wave. ‘Say goodbye to Daddy too,’ she called.
Kate was surprised by how flat she felt as she went back inside. The door to Alan Davidson’s office was open, and she could see both men in there, still busy talking and looking extremely solemn.
When she knocked, Noah turned, and her heart seemed to slip a little; he looked incredibly handsome in spite of the bleakness of his expression.
‘Am I intruding?’ she asked.
‘No, of course not. You have a stake in this. Come on in.’ Noah stood, and with a gentlemanly gesture she couldn’t ever remember her boyfriend using he drew out a chair for her.
‘Thank you.’
‘How’s Olivia?’ Noah’s eyes gleamed with a bright warmth that sent a tremor through Kate as she sat.
‘She’s fine. She was very excited because there’s a pig in the street outside. In the back of a ute.’
‘A pig?’ Noah’s smile lit up his face.
‘A baby pig. Very cute.’
He laughed briefly. ‘She’d love that.’
Kate watched the way his eyes sparkled, then almost immediately turned misty. Clearly, joy and pain were part and parcel of his relationship with his daughter. She wondered how often he saw Olivia, how much time they had together. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Liane going out of her way to make access easy.
Rubbing a hand over his face, as if to clear his thoughts, Noah sobered and returned to business. ‘I was just telling Alan I had no idea this inheritance could be so complicated,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid I’m still trying to get my head around it.’
‘So nothing’s settled?’
Alan Davidson took his spectacles off and offered Kate a teeth-gritted version of a smile. ‘I’ve explained to Noah that, with a firm like Calloway and Brandon behind her, Liane has a very good chance of pushing her claim for a half-share through the courts.’
‘But I thought—?’ Kate wasn’t quite sure how to put her question. ‘I assumed everything about the divorce had been finalised.’
Alan nodded. ‘That’s right. But Liane has twelve months after the decree absolute to file for property settlement. She can mount a case about her involvement at Radnor during her marriage, citing her contribution during the five-and-a-half years that she lived there, and her input into the running of the place.’
Kate could see why the courts would allow this. She knew nothing about the reasons for Noah and Liane’s divorce, but it made sense that a woman might need protection in certain circumstances.
She frowned. ‘But if Liane claims her half of Noah’s share, or half of his half-share, does that mean that Noah will end up with only a quarter of the estate?’
The solicitor nodded grimly. ‘A quarter of a drought-stricken estate at that.’
What a shock for Noah! Kate knew he’d expected to inherit Radnor intact, and now even his half-share would be whittled away. After he’d worked so hard on Radnor all his life, it seemed terribly unfair.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said, unable to keep a lid on her thoughts. ‘Why on earth has Uncle Angus given half of Radnor to me? It just doesn’t make any kind of sense.’
The men seemed unwilling or unable to answer her and, in the silence, the ceiling fan creaked as it circled slowly.
At last, Alan said, ‘Perhaps your uncle was being canny. It’s no secret that he never got on with Liane, and he may have anticipated that she could put in her claim for a half-share. He might have done this to frustrate her.’
Kate gave a helpless shake of her head. ‘You mean Angus didn’t want Liane to inherit half his property? But couldn’t Noah have bought her out?’
The two men exchanged a silent glance.
Noah said, ‘Given the drought, the banks aren’t very generous with their loans. I might have been forced to sell up the lot to meet Liane’s claims.’
‘Oh.’
He shrugged. ‘Now, with this new will, whatever happens half of Radnor stays in the family.’ His cool, faintly amused glance flickered over Kate.
To her dismay, her cheeks grew hot. Irrationally, she found herself remembering how very, very different Noah’s smile had been all those years ago, when she was seventeen… Just before he kissed her.
But it was feeble to remember that now.
Angry at her weakness, she spoke too loudly. ‘I’m sorry, but I know nothing about cattle, or running Outback properties in Australia. I’m quite prepared to say that I’m not entitled to a half-share in Radnor. It’s your home, Noah. Not mine.’
‘That’s not how it works,’ he said quietly.
She cast a frantic glance over the pile of papers on Alan Davidson’s desk, at his bookcases filled with expensively bound legal tomes. Surely lawyers knew clever ways to get round this kind of problem?
She was grateful that her boyfriend was safely tucked away on the other side of the world. As a man of finance, he would be horrified if he knew what she planned to say next. ‘I can hand my half back, can’t I? Give my share to Noah? I’m sure you know a way to devise some sensible arrangement.’
‘That is not going to happen.’ Noah spoke with such vehemence that Kate flinched. He scowled at her. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying, Kate.’
‘I know exactly what I’m saying.’
His face was dark, his mouth tight and hard, frighteningly hard. ‘No one hands over half an inheritance like Radnor.’
‘I can if I wish.’
Cursing beneath his breath, Noah leaned forward, eyes blazing. ‘Don’t be a fool. Radnor might have been blighted by drought for the better part of five years, but the property’s still valuable. All it takes is one good wet season. It’s over half a million acres.’
She gasped. That much? The scope of it was beyond imagining.
‘Even if that means nothing to you, Kate, I intend to respect Angus’s wishes. He obviously wanted you to have a half-share.’
‘That’s what I don’t understand,’ she said softly. ‘I know I’m his niece, but he looked on you as—as his son.’
‘Angus’s mind was perfectly sound.’ Noah spoke now with quiet resignation. ‘He knew exactly what he was doing, and he must have thought very carefully before changing his will.’
Perhaps it was her tiredness that made Kate angry. She wanted to stamp her feet, to yell at Noah, to urge him to stop being stubborn. How could he give up so easily? He’d worked so hard for Radnor.
Alan coughed discreetly. ‘If you hand your share over to Noah, Kate, there will be even more for Liane to claim.’
‘That’s true,’ said Kate quietly. In other words, she could be of more help to Noah if she retained her share. ‘But if Noah wants to stay on Radnor he must buy Liane out, mustn’t he? That’s what she’ll want, isn’t it—money rather than land?’
Alan pursed his lips. ‘Noah may not have a big enough share of the Radnor asset to raise the necessary money.’
‘Are you saying he’ll still be forced to sell up his share just to settle her claim?’
Kate was horrified. This was ridiculous. Noah had been born at Radnor. It was his home. His life. The very thought of him wandering about the Outback, looking for another job, starting again from scratch, was ludicrous!
Impulsively, she said, ‘We have no choice, then. Noah and I will have to form a partnership.’
Noah stared at Kate as if she’d grown a third ear.
To her eternal shame, she blushed again. ‘I— I m-mean a b-business partnership, of course. Then the partnership could buy Liane’s share. The banks wouldn’t turn down a proposal like that, would they?’
‘That’s generous,’ Noah said quietly. ‘But I won’t accept it.’
‘Hey!’ Alan suddenly turned on Noah. ‘Wake up, man. It’s only a business arrangement. Not marriage.’
Marriage?
Zap! To Kate’s horror her already hot cheeks turned fiery.
Noah’s chair scraped on the wooden floor, and he jumped to his feet. ‘What kind of fool comment is that?’
‘I was joking, of course,’ Alan quickly back-pedalled. He sent Kate a quick wink. ‘That’s how it would have happened in the good old days, of course. A quick, arranged marriage and, hey presto, everyone’s problems are solved.’
Kate was dismayed that Noah’s reaction was getting to her. Why did he have to make it so obvious that he was horrified by Alan’s lighthearted suggestion? She’d got the message nine years ago that he had no romantic interest in her.
To cover the awkwardness, Alan made a business of tidying the papers on his desk, setting them straight inside the folder. ‘You should both take a few days to think about this.’
Noah had moved to the door, one shoulder leaning on the jamb, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. He looked tired, as tired as Kate felt.
‘You’re right,’ he said quietly. ‘We need a few days. You’re jet lagged, Kate. You’re in no condition to be making rash offers. You need to get back to the house and have a good, long sleep. You’ll probably come to your senses in the morning.’
CHAPTER THREE
FROM habit Noah woke just before dawn.
He’d slept soundly, which was a surprise, as he’d been troubled by bad dreams ever since he’d found Angus slumped at his desk, ashen- faced and unconscious.
Now, grey dawn light seeped into his bedroom. Familiar details of the room came to life: the timber-framed window, the roll-top desk in the corner, the faded photo of his parents, the old pine chest of drawers…
Then he remembered.
He was going to lose all of this. He was going to lose his home. Lose Radnor.
He sat up quickly, fighting hot panic—caused not by a nightmare this time but by sickening reality.
With a groan, he threw his bedclothes aside, strode naked to the window and looked out at the flat, treeless landscape spreading endlessly, as far as the eye could see.
A terrible sense of loss flooded him. He was twenty-nine years old and he’d been born here. Not counting the years he’d spent at boarding school, this was the only home he’d ever known. He’d travelled, of course. He’d covered most of Australia and he’d seen prettier places—grander landscapes…richer country…
But a soul-deep love of these sparse, flat plains flowed in his veins. This country might be subject to drought, but its strength lay in its ability to rejuvenate. The rain would come eventually, and tenacity to weather the drought was part of the strength of the people who lived here.
Noah had that strength, that patience. And Angus had known it, damn it. But the old fox had tied up his will so that half of this property went to an English girl who’d been here once, almost a decade ago, for a brief holiday.
Noah jerked his gaze from the view and went through to his small adjoining bathroom.
Any normal guy would harbour resentment, he told himself as he palmed lather onto his jaw. He should be thinking about Kate Brodie with animosity and bitterness.
Not with hot-blooded lust.
He shouldn’t be remembering the last time she’d been here, the way he’d kissed her, and the way she’d responded. Hell, if he hadn’t had Angus’s warning ringing in his head, who knew what might have happened back then?
Angus had started bellowing orders even before Kate had arrived. At the time, it had nearly killed Noah to ignore Kate. He’d been completely smitten by her flashing green eyes, perfect skin and all that shiny red-gold hair. And her smile.
He’d broken down once and given into his need to taste Kate’s smiling lips, to touch her soft, warm, milk-white skin.
One kiss, despite Angus Harrington’s warning…
‘Hands off her, do you hear me? If you lay so much as a finger on my sister’s daughter, I’ll never forgive you, son.’
Son. For as long as Noah could remember, Angus had called him that. He’d been four at the time of his parents’ accident, and could barely remember them. His only memory was based on the photo on his dresser. His father, long-legged and dark, and no doubt smelling of dust and cigarettes, was leaning against the stock rails and grinning at his mother. She had a soft, heart-shaped face and pretty, pale-brown hair. Like Olivia’s.
Olivia. Noah grimaced and picked up the razor. He couldn’t afford to think about Olivia now, on top of everything else. Losing her, losing Radnor. Hell, any minute he’d start bawling.
He began to scrape with the razor, making dark tracks over his jaw through the white foam. But his thoughts winged straight back to Kate Brodie.
She’d changed a great deal. Matured was the word to use, he supposed. She had grown quieter. More serious.
Even more attractive and womanly.
Last night on the way home from Jindabilla she’d slept, which should have been fine. Noah had been grateful that she hadn’t wanted to carry on about Angus’s will. But she’d been so sleepy she’d ended up with her head on his shoulder, which meant he’d driven all those miles with the fragrance of her freshly shampooed hair filling his nostrils, with the warm pressure of her soft cheek against his shoulder, and the gentle hush of her breath on his neck.
And, when they’d reached the homestead, Kate had been so out of it that he’d had to help her inside. She’d leaned sleepily against him as they’d negotiated the stairs, with his arm about her slender waist, and he’d been super-conscious of her curves above and below.
Once Kate had changed and was ready for bed, he’d taken her hot cocoa, just as he might have done for Olivia.
Big mistake. Huge. How could he have been such an idiot? He’d found Kate in bed in a silky nightdress of skimpy cream silk with lace trims and thin straps, hair sleep-tumbled, eyelashes drooping. She’d blushed profusely and muttered apologies as she accepted the cocoa.
Remembering how she’d looked made him…
Damn. He nicked his jaw.
It was too long since he’d been with a woman.
But Kate Brodie was not the solution to that particular problem, Noah decided as he jutted his jaw and dabbed at the nick with the corner of a towel.
Why on earth had Alan Davidson let fly yesterday with that crazy comment about a marriage of convenience? He must have known that Noah couldn’t contemplate any kind of marriage after the messy divorce he’d just been through. Hell. Maybe Alan had been running every option through his bloody legal brain—but did he have to voice the crazy ones?
As for Kate’s suggestion that they form a business partnership, she’d been talking off the top of her head without really thinking it through. Very soon she’d come to her senses and realise that the last thing she wanted was to have her life tied up in a cattle station on the other side of the world.
The sooner she went back to England, the better.
He’d work out a way to solve his own problems, without getting tangled up with Angus’s niece. She’d been trouble enough last time she’d come to Radnor.
Kate tossed and turned. She’d been awake for what felt like ages, her body clock disoriented and her mind churning over the events of yesterday. The questions buzzed in her head like maddened flies. Why had Angus Harrington made such an unexpected bequest? What did he want from her? What was he hoping?
It was such an astonishing legacy. Bewildering.
She found herself wondering if Alan Davidson had been right when he’d suggested that Angus had left her half of Radnor to protect his property from Noah’s divorced wife. And, if that was so, what had he hoped Kate would do about it now?
Could he possibly expect her to live here, to run Radnor with Noah?
Poor Angus. He wouldn’t have made such a mistake if he’d known their history. If only she’d had the courage to confide in her uncle. Over the years, she’d sent him letters, but she’d only ever told Angus about her fascination for Australia, for his cattle property and his lifestyle. Not a word about Noah.
If Angus Harrington had known how silly she’d been, he might not have pushed them into this awkward partnership.
Wincing as her mind came back to this dead end for the hundredth time, Kate leapt out of bed. She checked her mobile, but there were no messages.
It would be early evening in England. She tried phoning her mother, but she was out, so she left a message that she’d arrived safely and all was well. Kate didn’t mention her surprise inheritance. She needed to speak to her mother in person about that. She dialled again and got through to Derek’s mobile.
She kept her voice low so that she didn’t wake Noah. ‘Hi there, Derek, it’s Kate.’
‘Oh, really? Where are you?’
‘In Australia.’ What a strange question. Where else would she be? She wished Derek didn’t sound so put out. ‘I just wanted to let you know I made it here safely.’
‘Sorry. Can you speak up?’
She could hear laughter and music in the background.
‘How long do you think you’ll be in Australia?’ Derek asked, raising his voice to reach her over the noise.
Wishing she’d gone outside to make this call, Kate spoke as loudly as she dared. ‘I’m still not sure. Not very long, I guess, but there have been complications.’
It would be good to tell Derek about her inheritance. His experience in the banking world could be helpful, and he’d be sure to offer great advice about business partnerships. But if Derek was at a party…
‘Can I hear people speaking in German?’ she asked.
‘What? Oh, can you hear that? Yes, there’s a table of Germans close by.’
‘Are you down at the pub?’
This was met by a marked hesitation on the other end of the line, more than the normal time lapse on an international call. ‘No.’ Derek sounded uneasy. ‘I’m in—eh—Birmingham. It’s a business thing—I’m with clients.’
It was a clear dismissal. Derek was busy and didn’t want to chat, and Kate tried hard not to mind. ‘I’d better not keep you, then.’
They said goodbye and she disconnected, and knew she was silly to feel dissatisfied. If Derek was busy with clients she could hardly expect a romantic chat. Anyway, sweet talk had never been his style.
Just the same…
She sighed. Perhaps Derek was stressed. He often got stressed about his job, and it was probably tension rather than impatience that she’d heard in his voice. A yawn escaped her, and she realised she hadn’t had nearly enough sleep. But there was no point in going back to bed. Noah would be up and about soon. What she needed was a shower to freshen her up.
She was sorting through her things, trying to choose suitable clothes for a hot, sticky day in the Outback, when footsteps sounded on the veranda outside her room and then there was a knock at the French doors. Kate opened them a chink.
‘Morning, Kate.’
Noah’s dark hair was damp, his rugged jaw clean and smooth as if he’d just shaved, and there was a nick just below his ear. Kate could smell the tang of his aftershave, and she had to clutch the door frame for support when he gave her a slow smile.
‘Is it too early for you for breakfast?’ he asked.
‘Not at all.’ She was annoyed by how suddenly breathless she sounded. ‘I can be ready in a jiffy. I’ll come and help you.’
He shrugged. ‘No need to rush. But you didn’t eat last night, so I’m thinking you’ll need the works—a full cooked breakfast.’
She was smiling through her quick shower, and while she changed into linen shorts and a T-shirt and then hurried down the hallway.
Divine smells were coming from the kitchen. More disturbingly divine was the sight of Noah at the stove. Oh, help. A woman was not supposed to finish a phone call with her boyfriend and immediately go weak at the knees at the sight of another man.
How was it possible that Noah could look so super-attractive standing at a kitchen stove, turning sausages? Maybe she was still affected by jet lag. Or the heat. Or maybe it was something to do with the clothes these Outback guys wore—Noah’s low-slung jeans and rumpled cotton shirt.
Heavens. What was wrong with her? How could she be so fickle? Hastily, she tried to substitute Derek into this scene—Derek wearing those battered jeans and nonchalantly flipping sausages and eggs at half-past six in the morning.
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Barbara Hannay
He’s tanned, rough and ready, and driving this city-girl crazy!When Kate Brodie inherits half a rundown cattle station she doesn’t expect to have a sexy cattleman boss to contend with! Noah Carmody doesn’t need a city-girl like Kate trying her pretty hand at Outback life, but he’s a single dad now, and needs help restoring Radnor to its former glory.Kate’s the only person within a hundred miles who will help him, so he’ll grudgingly show her the ropes… As they toil together under the Outback sun, romance should be the last thing on their minds…shouldn’t it?
Noah asked, ‘Does your skin sting?’
‘Not much. The cold water helped.’
His serious grey eyes searched Kate’s face, and then, even more gently, he touched the tip of his forefinger to the tip of hers. ‘How’s that?’
‘Fine.’
He did the same to the next finger. ‘How about now?’
‘It’s OK,’ she whispered breathlessly. ‘Thank you.’
For a moment there she wondered if Noah was actually flirting—if he was going to kiss her fingers. She imagined his lips lingering on the palm of her hand and running kisses up her arm, like the hero of an old-fashioned romance.
What had happened to her common sense? Last time she’d made a fool of herself over Noah it had taken her years to recover. It was pointless to expect anything but friendship. Romance was the last thing on his mind. He was still getting over his divorce, and he had a daughter to worry about.
As soon as these cattle were safely delivered, he would thank Kate for her help, then expect her to retire gracefully and discreetly out of his life. On the first plane back to England.
Mills & Boon® Romanceis delighted to bring you another fantastic storyfrom Australian author
Barbara Hannay
Barbara brings you a sparkling storythat’s brimming with emotional insightand sparky interaction!
Praise for the author:
‘Barbara Hannay [delivers] very layeredand life-like characters and a premise that isoverflowing with deep, emotional issues.’—Romantic Times BOOKreviews
‘Barbara Hannay’s name on the coveris a sure-fire guarantee of a good read.’—CataRomance Reviews
Barbara Hannay was born in Sydney, educated in Brisbane, and has spent most of her adult life living in tropical North Queensland, where she and her husband have raised four children. While she has enjoyed many happy times camping and canoeing in the bush, she also delights in an urban lifestyle—chamber music, contemporary dance, movies and dining out. An English teacher, she has always loved writing, and now, by having her stories published, she is living her most cherished fantasy. Visit www.barbarahannay.com
HER CATTLEMAN BOSS
BY
BARBARA HANNAY
www.millsandboon.co.uk (http://www.millsandboon.co.uk)
CHAPTER ONE
KATE Brodie stood with her suitcase beside her, her sensible jacket folded over her arm, and looked across the stretch of sunburned grass to the site of her first and worst heartbreak.
She had hoped to feel calmer about coming back to the Australian Outback after nine years, but her first glimpse of the low, sprawling homestead baking beneath the harsh sun sent her stomach churning like a tumble dryer.
Such an annoying reaction after all this time. She was no longer the naïve English teenager who’d come to her uncle’s cattle property for a holiday. She’d recovered years ago from the embarrassing crush she’d wasted on Noah Carmody, her uncle’s handsome young stockman.
Kate looked again at the silent homestead with its ripple-iron roof, reaching low like a shady hat over deep verandas, and her throat tightened painfully. She could almost picture her Uncle Angus standing at the top of the front steps, waiting to welcome her, his silver hair shining in the sun’s dazzle and his smile as wide as his open arms.
He’d lived in virtual exile in Australia—which had always seemed like the bottom of the world to Kate—but he’d been her only male relative and she’d loved knowing that he was there, like a deep-sea anchor. It was so hard to accept that he’d gone for ever.
Turning slowly, she looked about her, taking in the vastness, the overwhelming emptiness of the Outback. The tourist coach that had brought her from Cunnamulla had already disappeared into the shimmering heat haze and flat, red earth dotted with grey clumps of dried grass stretched as far as the eye could see.
Her uncle’s letters had hinted at the prolonged drought in this part of Australia, but she was shocked to see how desperately hot and dry it was.
Nine years ago, these same parched paddocks had been oceans of lush grass, and the creeks had run with clear, fresh water. Pretty green lawns and bright flower-filled gardens had surrounded the homestead.
Now, with the gardens gone, every blade of grass shrivelled, and the earth sun-bleached and bone-hard, the homestead had lost its grandeur. It looked sad and faded, as if it, too, had succumbed to the cruelty of the withering sun.
Four lone frangipani trees had survived the drought and they stood, two on either side of the front steps, like maids of honour. They were ablaze with extravagant blooms, and their gaudy splashes of colour were like thick daubs in an oil painting—pristine white, sharp lemon, deep rosy-pink and rich apricot.
A photographer’s dream.
But now wasn’t the time for photographs…
A hot wind gusted, picking up gritty dust and throwing it in Kate’s face. She ducked her head and blinked hard. After her tediously long journey, dirt in her eyes was almost too much. She was weary to the bone. Jet lagged.
And she still had to face up to Noah.
Which shouldn’t be a problem. She was sure Noah Carmody had long forgotten the awkwardness of her teenage infatuation. For heaven’s sake, it had all happened when she was seventeen. Noah had recognised her crush, had taken pity on her and kissed her.
Unfortunately, she’d responded with a wantonness that had shocked him. That was the embarrassing part Kate fervently hoped Noah had forgotten.
She’d been so wild and headstrong back then, so desperately in love with him. And with the buoyancy of youth she’d bounced back from his rejection. Focusing on the kiss rather than the rejection, she’d gone home to England with her head full of dreams of leaving school, of getting a job, and saving hard to return to Australia.
She’d planned to work as a jillaroo in the Outback, to meet up with Noah again, and she’d been sure that, given time, she could win his heart and marry him.
Fool.
How pathetic she’d been, fighting her mother’s protests and refusing to get her A levels, or to go to university. She’d given up everything for that one dream. And then, at about the same time she’d earned the money to buy her plane ticket to Australia, word had arrived via Uncle Angus that Noah had married an Australian girl.
Even now, all these years later, the memory of that letter made Kate’s throat close over. Thank God she’d eventually recovered. It had taken years, but at last Kate was normal. Her latest boyfriend, Derek Jenkins, was a rising star in London banking and Kate was quietly confident that she was over Noah. Completely and permanently over him.
When she saw him again, she would be as reserved and polite as he’d always been with her, and the only emotion she would show would be her grief over Angus’s passing.
Now Kate marched resolutely across the final stretch of dirt to the front steps, where an elderly cattle-dog, sleeping beneath the low veranda, lifted his head and blinked hazel eyes at her. He rose stiffly and approached her, his blue-and-white-flecked tail wagging.
Kate stopped. She hadn’t had much experience of large dogs, and she expected him to bark, but he remained utterly silent, watching her keenly.
‘Is anyone home?’ she asked.
The dog gave another lazy wag of his tail, and then retreated to the shade beneath the floorboards, like a pensioner allowed to enjoy the shade after a lifetime of hard work.
Kate couldn’t blame him for keeping out of the sun. Already she could feel it stinging the back of her neck. Sweat trickled into the V of her bra and made her skin itch. She hurried up the short flight of timber steps into the welcome shade on the homestead veranda.
And stopped dead.
The very man she’d been fretting over was sprawled in a canvas chair. Shirtless.
Kate gulped. And stared.
His face was covered by a broad-brimmed akubra, but she couldn’t mistake that long, rangy body and those impossibly wide shoulders. His bare chest was bronzed and broad, and it rose and fell rhythmically.
By contrast, Kate’s breathing went haywire.
It was the shock, she told herself, the shock of finding Noah Carmody asleep at midday. The last, the very last thing she’d expected.
She’d invaded his privacy, but, heaven help her, she couldn’t stop staring.
She took another step and the veranda’s bare floorboards creaked, but Noah didn’t move. Her gaze fixed on his hands, large, long fingered, suntanned and beautiful, loosely folded over the belt buckle of his jeans.
Carefully, she set her suitcase down and continued to stare. His hips were lean, his thighs strong, and his blue-jeans-clad legs seemed to stretch endlessly in front of him. He’d removed one riding boot and kicked it aside, and his right foot now looked strangely exposed and intimate in a navy blue sock with a hole in the big toe. No doubt he’d fallen asleep in this chair before he’d got the other boot off.
‘Noah?’
Kate’s lips formed the word, but no sound came out. She sent another hasty glance beyond the veranda, to the wide expanse of dry, empty plains spreading to infinity in every direction. She’d get no help from out there.
The house was silent, too. The front door was slightly ajar, offering a hint of a darkened and cool interior, but no sounds came from inside. Beside the door, an old hat with a battered crown hung on a row of pegs, and next to it a horse’s bridle and a leather belt with a pocket-knife pouch. The possibility that her Uncle Angus had left them there, planning to use them again, burned a lump in Kate’s throat.
She took another careful step towards the door. Someone must be awake—Noah’s wife, or a housekeeper at least. But if she knocked she might disturb Noah. To Kate’s dismay, her confidence shrank to zilch at the thought of that tall, muscle-packed, bare-chested man waking and setting his cool grey eyes on her.
She could avoid waking him if she went round to the back door. Then she would find the housekeeper in the kitchen. It was almost midday, for heaven’s sake, and someone should be up and about. No doubt that someone should wake Noah…
Turning carefully, she began to tiptoe, retracing her steps over the creaking veranda floorboards to the steps. Halfway across the veranda, she heard a deep, gravelly voice.
‘Kate?’
She spun around.
It was just as she’d feared.
Noah was out of his chair, standing tall. So tall. And heart-stoppingly attractive with a day’s growth of dark beard shadowing his jaw. His eyes narrowed against the sun’s glare. ‘It is you, Kate, isn’t it?’
‘Yes.’ Little more than a squeak emerged from her tight throat. ‘Hello.’ She swallowed awkwardly. ‘Hello, Noah.’
‘Yes. Of course it’s you.’ His teeth flashed white in his suntanned face as he grinned. ‘No one else has that colour hair.’
He crossed the veranda swiftly, and Kate thought, for a pulse-raising moment, that he was going to hug her. Her mind galloped, and with alarming ease she prepared herself for being hauled into his arms.
His bare chest would be warm and solid, and his satin-smooth skin would be stretched over muscles that were whipcord-hard after so many years of working in the Outback. Those amazing, strong arms would be about her once more. So sexy. And comforting, too, after her long and exhausting journey.
But Noah didn’t hug her. Of course. She should have known he’d be careful and distant.
He held out his hand and shook hers formally. ‘This is a surprise—a nice surprise—Kate. I’m afraid I—I’ve been in a bit of a mess since Angus’s death. But it’s good to see you.’
‘You too.’
Shadows lingered beneath his eyes and his cheekbones seemed more prominent than they’d been nine years ago.
She said, ‘I was terribly shocked to hear about Uncle Angus.’
Noah shoved his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans. ‘It was so sudden.’
His light grey eyes assessed her, taking in her too-fair skin and her travel-rumpled clothes, her pale-red hair, already limp after little more than an hour in the Outback’s heat.
He lowered his glance to take in his own shirtless state and his mouth tilted sideways in an apologetic smile. Turning quickly, he snagged his shirt—faded blue cotton—from the back of the chair and he shrugged it on, his big shoulders straining its seams.
Covertly, Kate watched the fluid, deft movement of his fingers as he closed the buttons. Starting from the bottom, inch by inch, like a striptease in reverse, his hunky brown torso disappeared beneath the thin fabric. She hoped she didn’t sigh, but she couldn’t be sure.
Noah sat down again to pull on his abandoned boot. ‘As you can see, I wasn’t expecting you. I’m sorry. I’m afraid the wake went rather late last night.’
‘The wake?’ Kate frowned in puzzlement.
‘We held a wake for Angus in the Blue Heeler pub in Jindabilla. A huge crowd came. People from all over the Channel Country.’ Noah’s eyes lightened momentarily. ‘We gave him a great send off.’
‘But—but—’ Kate couldn’t hold back the tremor in her voice. ‘But you don’t usually have a wake before the funeral, do you?’
At first Noah didn’t respond.
His mouth pulled in at the corners and his bright gaze narrowed. ‘No, not usually.’ His voice was cautious and quiet, and his hand came up to scratch the side of his neck. ‘Hell,’ he whispered.
‘What? What’s the matter?’
He looked pained and rubbed at the side of his forehead, and she wondered if he had a headache. A hangover?
‘You’ve come for the funeral.’ He spoke softly, without looking at her, almost as if he was talking to himself.
‘Well, yes. Of course that’s why I’ve come.’
He almost winced as his gaze met hers. ‘I’m sorry Kate. I’m afraid the funeral was yesterday. Yesterday afternoon.’
She stared at him in disbelief.
His Adam’s apple rippled as he swallowed.
Spinning away from him, she clutched blindly at the veranda railing. Her mouth trembled and tears stung, then spilled. How could this have happened? She’d come all this way!
‘Why—?’ She swiped at her cheeks, pressed three fingers against her lips as she struggled for composure. Took a breath. ‘Why didn’t you wait for me?’ she asked, without daring to look at Noah.
‘I’m so sorry,’ he said again and his voice was exceedingly gentle. ‘We didn’t—I didn’t know you were coming.’
‘But I said I’d come.’ She glared at him. ‘I telephoned. I spoke to someone here. I told her I was delayed, but I said I was definitely coming.’
She bit down on her lip to hold back a sob. Noah had no idea how deeply she’d always loved her uncle. And he couldn’t possibly understand that she’d sacrificed an important photographic assignment to come all this way at such short notice. Or that she’d come despite her mother’s bewildering indifference to her brother’s death.
When Kate had announced that she would attend Angus’s funeral, her mother had been predictably surprised, almost offended. ‘Darling, no one down there will expect you.’
But Kate was used to her family’s antipathy to their Australian relatives and had learned to ignore it.
Her boyfriend, by contrast, had been disconcertingly eager. ‘Of course you must go. Stayas long as you like and have a holiday.’ Not a word about missing her. Until she’d asked. And then, of course, Derek had told her she’d be missed enormously.
So, despite mild misgivings, Kate had been determined to come. It was very important to make a showing of family solidarity. She’d wanted, more than anything, to demonstrate to this tight-knit Outback community that at least someone among Angus Harrington’s distant family cared, really cared, about his passing.
And she’d wanted the comfort of ritual, of a church service and a kindly minister saying prayers. Without that, she felt as if she couldn’t really say goodbye.
But now… She’d flown all this way, had travelled more than ten thousand tedious miles—in a jet, then a tiny inland plane no bigger than a bird, and then finally in a bouncing bus over narrow and bumpy Outback roads—for nothing.
Nothing.
Fighting her gathering exhaustion and despair, she turned to Noah, her voice rising on a querulous note. ‘I spoke to a woman. I thought she was your housekeeper. I can’t believe she didn’t tell you I was coming.’
A muscle worked in Noah’s jaw. Frowning, he shook his head. ‘You can’t have spoken to Ellen. She’s been in such a state since Angus died, I sent her into town to stay with her sister.’
Kate huffed angrily. ‘Well, I don’t know who it was then. I was on my mobile and the line kept cutting out, but I told her that I was held up at Heathrow. We had terrible snow and high winds all over England, and there were twenty-four-hour delays at every airport.’
Sighing heavily, Noah stood with his hands sunk on his hips, not meeting Kate’s gaze but looking somewhere out beyond, to the faded sky that hung listlessly above the parched brown paddocks.
‘Truly, I’m very sorry, Kate. I didn’t get your message. I—I think you must have spoken to Liane.’
‘Your wife?’
‘My ex-wife. She came back for the funeral.’
‘Ex?’
‘We were divorced just before Christmas.’
Kate struggled to breathe. Not an easy task when a string of explosions was detonating inside her. She felt as if she was tumbling through the air in slow motion. Noah was no longer married and her world had turned upside down.
In the awkward silence Noah said again, ‘I’m really sorry about the funeral, Kate.’
The defeated tone in his voice surprised her. He offered no further explanation. It was almost as if he expected that his former wife would have neglected to pass on an important message. Kate had no choice but to accept that she’d missed the funeral. It was a fait accompli.
But she’d come such a long way.
Noah picked up her suitcase and said in the quiet, laconic drawl of the Australian Outback, ‘You’d better come inside and I’ll brew up a cuppa.’
Kate forced a small smile. ‘I think I could really do with some tea.’
With a gentlemanly sweep of his arm, he motioned for her to enter the house ahead of him. They went down a long passage which, she remembered, cut straight through the middle of the house to the big kitchen at the back.
‘I’ll put your things in this spare room,’ he said, ducking into a bedroom that opened off to the right.
‘Are you the only person here?’
‘At the moment, yes. Ellen will be back soon.’
‘Is it all right for me to stay here tonight?’
‘Sure.’ He shot her a puzzled glance. ‘Don’t look so worried, Kate. No one expects you to jump on the next plane back to England.’
‘I couldn’t face that.’
‘This room’s yours, for as long as you need it.’
‘Thanks.’ She looked about her, amazed by how familiar the little bedroom felt. She was sure she recognised the single bed with old-fashioned brass ends and white candlewick spread.
Faded pink curtains hung over French doors that opened onto a side veranda. A very old, silky oak wardrobe with an oval mirror stood against the far wall. Looking about her, Kate was sure it was the room she’d slept in when she’d been here all those years ago.
Yes… She recognised the photo of her grandfather hanging on the wall. With his shock of white hair, thick white moustache and erect posture, and seated in a cane peacock-chair on the homestead veranda with his faithful dog at his feet, he looked like a throwback to the British Raj.
She remembered the emotional storms she’d weathered during the summer she’d spent here, how she’d hovered on the veranda, hoping to catch sight of Noah. The blissful heights and savage depths of youthful passion and unrequited love. The embarrassment. A shiver rustled through her. She hoped Noah didn’t notice.
With her suitcase stowed, they continued on down the passage to the kitchen.
This room hadn’t changed either, Kate decided as she looked about her at the huge black stove set in a galvanized-iron recess, and the big scrubbed-pine table dominating the room’s centre. A crumpled green-and-white-striped tea towel had been flung carelessly over the back of one of the mismatched chairs, and a clutter of kitchen utensils dangled from hooks above the stove.
On the far wall a row of shutters had been pushed wide open to catch the slightest hint of breeze. Everything was unpretentious and homely, just as she remembered, and she found this strangely unsettling. It was like stepping back in time.
Noah put the kettle on the stove and lit the gas beneath it. ‘I have to go into town this afternoon for the reading of the will,’ he said.
‘That’s OK. I’ll be fine here.’
‘You should come too.’
She’d given absolutely no thought to legal matters, but she was sure her uncle’s will would be very straightforward. Angus Harrington had been a bachelor, and she’d always understood that he’d planned to leave this property to Noah.
Noah had been born here on Radnor station. His father, Joe Carmody, had been head stockman, but there’d been a tragic accident—a light-plane crash in which both Noah’s parents had been killed. Uncle Angus had taken the boy into his home and, although he had never adopted Noah formally, he’d raised him as his own son.
Kate watched Noah now as he moved with familiar ease about the kitchen, fetching mugs and a brown china teapot and yellow sugarbowl.
He looked as at home in this kitchen as he had when she’d seen him working outdoors, or riding a stockhorse. He belonged here, and she couldn’t imagine him living anywhere else.
As he set the mugs and sugar bowl on the table, she said, ‘I can’t see why I need to go to the solicitor’s.’
‘You’re Angus’s blood relative. You should be there.’
‘My mother might be Uncle Angus’s sister, but she’s spent her entire life ignoring him.’
Noah simply shrugged. The kettle came to the boil and he turned to the stove to attend to it. Kate watched him pour boiling water into the teapot, and she couldn’t help admiring the way he managed to make a simple domesticated task look manly.
‘If you like,’ he said as he set the teapot on a cane table-mat, ‘I’ll give Alan Davidson, the solicitor, a quick call and ask if there’s any need for you to show up. It’ll only take a tick.’
Kate offered a mystified smile. ‘If you insist, but I hope I’m not needed. I’m dreadfully tired.’
‘The tea will refresh you. Do you mind helping yourself?’
‘Not at all,’ she told his departing back.
She poured a mug of tea. It was a strong brew and piping hot. She added milk and sugar, took her mug to the window and sipped hot tea while she looked out at the scattering of farm sheds and the dry, thirsty paddocks.
This property—named Radnor by Kate’s grandfather after his beloved Radnor Hills in England—didn’t look like a prize inheritance now, in the middle of a drought.
But she could remember her uncle’s boast that, when the rains returned, the Channel Country provided some of the best grazing land in Queensland. One good wet season could change the entire district in a matter of weeks.
Mighty river systems with strangely exotic names like Barcoo, Bulloo and Diamantina would bring water from the north, spreading into tributaries, into hundreds of creeks and billabongs, like blood filling arteries, drenching the hungry earth and bringing it back to life.
People who lived here needed faith to ride out the tough times until the good rains returned and thick feed covered the ground once more. Kate’s mother, sequestered in England, had never understood that.
Noah, on the other hand, knew it implicitly.
Kate drank more tea and sighed heavily. She was deathly tired. Jet lag was making her head spin. And she still felt a crushing disappointment at missing the funeral.
Footsteps sounded in the passage and she turned to see Noah coming through the doorway, his grey eyes unreadable, his mouth a straight, inscrutable line. ‘Alan Davidson was most definite. You should attend the reading of the will.’
Kate shook her head in annoyance. Didn’t people around here understand about jet lag? She couldn’t bear the thought of bouncing back down that bumpy road into Jindabilla. ‘I’m too tired,’ she said, and she yawned widely to prove it. ‘I’ll probably fall asleep in the middle of the reading.’
‘Take another mug of tea to your room and rest for an hour.’ Noah spoke quietly, but with an unmistakable air of authority. ‘Feel free to use the bathroom across the passage from your room. But be ready to leave at two-thirty.’
Kate knew she’d been given an order.
CHAPTER TWO
NOAH shifted uncomfortably on the hard wooden chair in the solicitor’s office, and watched a lonely ceiling fan struggle to bring relief to the over-dressed group in the crowded room. Neck ties were a rarity in the summer heat, but he and Alan Davidson had worn them today out of respect for their good friend, Angus.
James Calloway, Liane’s city lawyer, had gone one better and was wearing a spiffy business suit and a striped bow-tie that looked suspiciously like those worn by the old boys’ clubs of Sydney’s private schools. James was, Noah noted, very red in the face.
Old Angus would be chuckling if he could see this mob, suffering on his behalf.
But Noah had little to laugh about. He’d been through one hell of a week—the shock of Angus’s sudden death, the heart-rending task of spreading the sad news, the struggle to focus on arrangements for the funeral and a fitting farewell. And then, everything had been soured by his ex-wife’s unexpected appearance in Jindabilla with her fancy lawyer in tow.
The nerve of Liane—showing up out of the blue and coming to the funeral, as if she didn’t know that old Angus had, in the end, despised her and blamed her for bringing unhappiness to the people he loved.
She was still causing trouble. Noah couldn’t forgive her for neglecting to pass on Kate Brodie’s message. It was beyond embarrassing that Angus’s niece had travelled all the way from England and had missed everything. The minister could easily have held the funeral off for another day or two.
But it was just as sickening to discover that Liane was here now for the reading of the will. What the hell did she think she was up to? She’d cleaned him out during the divorce. What more could she want? The question made Noah’s jaw clench so tightly his teeth threatened to crack.
Alan Davidson shuffled the papers on his desk and looked tentatively around at the gathering. He gave a quiet nod to Noah, and a poor attempt at a friendly smile to Kate, who was sitting stiffly to one side near the window, as if she wanted to separate herself from the rest of them. And who, thought Noah, could blame her?
He let his gaze rest on her—an extremely pleasant distraction. She was dressed simply in a cream blouse and a brown linen skirt. Sunlight, streaming through the wooden slats of the blinds, shot fiery lights into her whisky-coloured hair and added a pink glow to her delicate English complexion. Her eyes were the softest shade of green.
Back at the homestead, she’d looked washed out, a pale shadow of the lively, flirtatious girl who’d come here for a holiday. But, given her long journey and jet lag, that wasn’t surprising.
Now, sitting in the golden beams of afternoon light, with her autumn hair and her brown skirt, she looked tranquil and undeniably eye-catching. Like a sexy version of a Rembrandt painting.
Alan Davidson opened the folder in front of him, snapping Noah roughly back to the business at hand. Noah’s fingers reached for the knot of his tie, and he longed to loosen it to relieve the sudden strangling sensation that clawed at his throat.
He had no reason to be nervous, and yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong.
Watching Noah’s restlessness, Kate wished she was anywhere but here. It wasn’t just jet lag making her so ill at ease. She could have cut the tension in the room with a knife. In spite of his suntan, Noah looked pale, and he kept shifting in his chair. Now he was sitting ramrod straight, with his jaw clenched and his hands fisted on his knees, his knuckles white.
Her heart went out to him. She knew he’d loved her uncle as deeply as any son could, and he was still grappling with his grief. But at least he would walk out of this office today as the new owner of Radnor cattle station. Uncle Angus had told her mother years ago not to expect anything from him because it would all go to Noah. So why did Noah look so worried now?
Did he sense, as she did, that something wasn’t right? Alan Davidson, the balding, middle-aged solicitor, shouldn’t have been worried, but he looked almost as uneasy as Noah. He kept adjusting his glasses and opening his document folder, then closing it again.
The cocky man in the city suit—who’d been introduced as James Calloway, Liane’s lawyer from Sydney—was on edge in a different way. He had an air of contained expectation, and he kept sending Liane sneaky sideways winks, almost as if he knew something the others didn’t. Kate disliked his smugness and the way he kept inspecting his super-clean fingernails.
The only person in the room who looked relaxed was Noah’s former wife. Liane had speedily found the most comfortable chair in the room, and she sat now with an easy elegance that displayed her long legs and expensive dress to their best advantage.
She was exceptionally pretty—very fair and very slim with bright-blue eyes fringed by long, dark lashes. Model-perfect looks, Kate decided, with that particular air of feminine awareness that brought men to their knees. Poor Noah. He must have loved her desperately. Maybe he still did?
As Kate watched, Liane leaned towards her lawyer and rested her perfectly manicured hand on his knee. Was James Calloway her lover now, or did Liane like to tease?
At last, the solicitor made a throat-clearing sound to break the silence.
‘Ladies and gentlemen,’ he said quietly, ‘Thank you for coming here today.’ He placed his square hands on the folder in front of him. ‘I have in my possession two wills for Angus Harrington. One that was made many years ago, and another that was drawn up three months ago.’
He looked at them over the top of his glasses. No one spoke or moved, but Kate felt a new ripple of disquiet spread through the room, as if a stone had been dropped into a pond, disrupting its smooth surface.
‘I’ll cut to the chase and provide a summary.’ Alan Davidson lifted a sheet from the papers in front of him. ‘The property of Radnor, its buildings, stock, vehicles and equipment, were Angus Harrington’s only assets.’
As he spoke, the solicitor let his gaze shift from person to person in the room. ‘There were some cash reserves, but those funds have been depleted by the long drought. There won’t be much left in the bank by the time the final debts and mortgages are settled.’
He paused, looked down at the papers, then directed his attention to Noah. ‘Noah, Angus left you a half-share of Radnor, its assets and its debts.’
A half-share?
Kate saw the flare of shock in Noah’s eyes.
She was shocked too. And confused. What did this mean?
The solicitor turned quickly to Kate. ‘Ms Brodie.’
Her hand flew to her throat and her heart began to thump mercilessly.
‘It was your uncle’s wish that you should inherit the other half of his estate.’
‘No,’ she whispered.
Alan Davidson frowned.
‘No.’ Kate shook her head. ‘There must be a mistake.’
‘Of course it’s a mistake!’ cried Liane. ‘That can’t possibly be right.’
Grim faced, the solicitor held out the sheet of paper, pointing with his finger to the appropriate words, but they swam before Kate’s eyes. She felt vague and confused, as if this was happening to someone else.
‘Ms Brodie,’ Alan said. ‘In the revised will, your uncle’s intention was quite clear. In fact, his insistence that you be included as a beneficiary is the reason the will was changed.’
Stunned, Kate looked from the solicitor to Noah’s stony face. This didn’t make sense. She couldn’t possibly own half of an Australian cattle property. Why on earth would her uncle do that?
Why would he do it to Noah?
Before she could find the words to frame a question, Noah’s ex-wife leapt to her feet.
‘James, you told me you could get me half of everything Noah inherited. How can this little biddy from England sneak though the back door and take my share?’
Hands on hips, Liane darted fiery sneers at them all. ‘I’m entitled to a half-share of that property. I wasted the best years of my life in that ghastly place, living under the same roof as that awful old man.’
Calloway reached for her hand and tried to pull her back down into her chair, but she shook him away.
‘Noah owes me, and he knows it. They can’t do this to me. It’s ridiculous. I want my money.’
Noah, darkly furious, refused to respond.
Kate watched from her seat, mortified. She felt responsible for this fiasco. But utterly helpless. She hadn’t asked for an inheritance. What had Uncle Angus been thinking?
As she sat, wondering what on earth she should say or do, the door from the outer office began to open. Just a crack at first, and then wider, and one half of a small face appeared.
The door inched open wider and Kate saw a little girl aged about seven or eight. She was fair-skinned and petite, with freckles across her nose and wavy, light brown hair that almost reached her shoulders. Her eyes were the exact shade of grey as Noah’s eyes, but right now they were round with worry and fixed on Liane.
Kate wondered if she was Olivia, Noah and Liane’s daughter. Perhaps she’d been told to wait outside. Had she been upset by the high-pitched agitation in her mother’s voice?
Liane hadn’t noticed the child and she continued to rant. ‘On your feet, James! You’ll have to start calling your people in Sydney. I want this matter settled right now.’
With that, Calloway was hauled unceremoniously out of his chair.
Kate rose, too, but in a more dignified manner. She swallowed nervously. ‘I don’t understand my uncle’s decision. I’m as shocked as anyone else. But it might be easier for you to discuss this complication if I wait outside.’
Liane glared at her suspiciously.
Noah looked as if he might have spoken, but Kate gestured to the small figure in the doorway. ‘The little girl.’
Noah’s head whipped round and, when he saw her, his face morphed into a mix of delight and despair.
Liane snapped at the child. ‘I told you to wait outside!’
The girl’s eyes grew huge. Her mouth trembled, and she looked very much as if she was about to burst into tears.
‘I could wait with her,’ Kate volunteered.
Noah sent her a look of immense gratitude, while Liane gave a little annoyed huff and shrugged her shoulders impatiently. ‘Whatever.’
Relieved to escape, Kate shut the office door behind her and drew a deep breath. She wished, rather recklessly given the circumstances, that the ownership of Radnor could be settled by the time this door opened again.
She smiled at the little girl. ‘Hello,’ she said warmly as she held out her hand. ‘We haven’t met, but I’ve heard about you, Olivia. I’m Kate. I’m a friend of your—of your father’s.’
‘Hello.’ Olivia did not offer her hand and she didn’t return Kate’s smile. She looked again at the closed door separating her from her parents.
The voices on the other side were mostly muffled, except for Liane’s high-pitched, angry demands.
‘Why are they fighting?’ Olivia asked. ‘What’s happening in there?’
‘It’s a business discussion. And I’m afraid business can get rather complicated at times.’
Kate nodded towards a long, pew-like seat against the opposite wall. ‘Shall we wait there?’
Olivia shook her head. ‘I’m tired of sitting. I’ve been sitting for ages ’n’ ages.’
A quick flick through the reading material on the coffee table showed Kate that none of it was suitable for children. She wondered if she should try to tell the little girl a story, but story telling wasn’t really her forte.
Olivia pointed to the open door leading out to the sunlit street. ‘Can we go outside?’
‘Well…’ Aware of the heated discussion on the other side of the door, Kate made a snap decision. ‘Why not? I don’t suppose anyone will mind.’ After all, Jindabilla was a very tiny country town, hardly more than one wide, dusty main street. No chance of getting lost.
The little girl was already skipping towards the door. ‘There’s a beautiful pig out there.’ Her eyes were shining suddenly.
‘A pig?’ Good grief. What a quantum leap, to come from discussing wills and inheritances to pigs.
On the footpath, Kate shaded her gaze against the sun’s glare. ‘Where is this pig?’
‘In the back of that blue ute outside the pub.’
Even if Olivia hadn’t described the utility truck so accurately, Kate could hardly miss the stream of snuffling oinks and squeals.
Her head was whirling. She was still stunned by her uncle’s will, still feeling Noah’s shock. She glanced back to the solicitor’s office. What was going on in there? What had they decided?
‘Can’t you hear him?’ Olivia cried, giving Kate’s hand a tug.
‘Of course I can.’ Kate smiled. ‘And I can see him.’ A distinctly piggy snout and a dirty pink trotter appeared over the ute’s tray back.
‘He’s so cute! Lift me up! I want to see him properly.’
The little girl’s reticence was a thing of the past, and she held her arms up to Kate as if they’d been best friends for ever.
Kate couldn’t help suspecting that Liane would object to her daughter being lifted up to admire a pig, but she was charmed by the child’s eagerness—so different from the worry in her eyes a few moments earlier. She hoisted Olivia onto her hip and together they peered at the small pink pig that looked up at them with pale, expectant eyes.
‘Isn’t he gorgeous?’
‘He is rather cute,’ Kate admitted.
Olivia’s face was a picture of enraptured adoration. With one skinny arm around Kate’s neck, she reached out with the other to pat the top of the little pig’s head. ‘Daddy says that pigs are terribly clever. They’re much cleverer than cows, and they’re even cleverer than dogs.’
‘I didn’t know that. But I’ve heard they make great pets.’
Olivia beamed at her joyously. ‘This one’s so handsome; I want to call him Baby Prince Charming.’
Kate laughed. ‘Why not? I couldn’t imagine a better name for him.’
The pig squealed and snuffled, and Olivia made oinking noises back at him. But eventually she grew heavy, and Kate set her back on the footpath.
She half-expected the child to protest, but Olivia took her hand in a gesture of such innocent trust that Kate felt a lump in her throat. ‘Are— are pigs your favourite animal?’ she asked.
‘Probably.’ A wistful expression came over her little face. ‘When I lived with Daddy, we had lots and lots of animals—piglets and chickens and ducklings and calves.’
‘And puppies?’
‘Lots of puppies.’ Her bottom lip drooped. ‘I can’t have pets any more.’
‘Because you live in the city?’
She nodded. ‘Mummy said we’re not allowed to have any pets in our apartment. Not even a goldfish.’
Kate understood Olivia’s disappointment. Her own mother had never been fond of animals, and she felt a rush of sympathy for the child. After the rustic casualness of life in an Outback homestead, where sticky fingers posed no threat and a puppy on the couch were the norm, it would be very hard to get used to a slick and shiny city apartment.
‘But you must have all kinds of exciting things to do in the city,’ she suggested diplomatically.
‘Not really. Sydney’s boring.’
Before Kate could respond, Liane’s voice sounded shrilly behind them. She turned to see the child’s mother and James Calloway charging down the footpath.
Completely ignoring Kate, Liane thrust her hand towards her daughter. ‘Come along now,’ she ordered with an imperious tilt of her chin.
A fleeting expression that might have been fear flickered over the little girl’s face, but it was gone so quickly Kate decided that she must have imagined it.
‘We’ve found a pig,’ Olivia told her mother.
‘Good God.’ Liane’s lips curled in an expression of distaste. She gave another impatient shake of her outstretched hand. ‘Now, come on, Olivia. We’ve got to get back to the motel. We have a lot of important phone calls to make.’
The little girl hesitated and chewed her lip. ‘Can I stay tonight with Daddy?’
‘No, of course you can’t.’ Her mother rolled her eyes. ‘First thing in the morning we’re getting out of this dump and back home to Sydney.’ She grabbed the little girl’s hand. ‘Come on, now. No nonsense.’
Rising quickly onto tiptoes, Olivia whispered to Kate, ‘Can you say goodbye to Baby Prince Charming for me?’
‘Of course,’ Kate whispered back. ‘I promise.’
Her smile faltered as she watched the trio—mother, daughter and sharp Sydney lawyer—hurry away down the dusty footpath. As they rounded a corner, Olivia looked back, just once, over her shoulder, and lifted her hand to send Kate a quick wave. ‘Say goodbye to Daddy too,’ she called.
Kate was surprised by how flat she felt as she went back inside. The door to Alan Davidson’s office was open, and she could see both men in there, still busy talking and looking extremely solemn.
When she knocked, Noah turned, and her heart seemed to slip a little; he looked incredibly handsome in spite of the bleakness of his expression.
‘Am I intruding?’ she asked.
‘No, of course not. You have a stake in this. Come on in.’ Noah stood, and with a gentlemanly gesture she couldn’t ever remember her boyfriend using he drew out a chair for her.
‘Thank you.’
‘How’s Olivia?’ Noah’s eyes gleamed with a bright warmth that sent a tremor through Kate as she sat.
‘She’s fine. She was very excited because there’s a pig in the street outside. In the back of a ute.’
‘A pig?’ Noah’s smile lit up his face.
‘A baby pig. Very cute.’
He laughed briefly. ‘She’d love that.’
Kate watched the way his eyes sparkled, then almost immediately turned misty. Clearly, joy and pain were part and parcel of his relationship with his daughter. She wondered how often he saw Olivia, how much time they had together. Somehow, she couldn’t imagine Liane going out of her way to make access easy.
Rubbing a hand over his face, as if to clear his thoughts, Noah sobered and returned to business. ‘I was just telling Alan I had no idea this inheritance could be so complicated,’ he said. ‘I’m afraid I’m still trying to get my head around it.’
‘So nothing’s settled?’
Alan Davidson took his spectacles off and offered Kate a teeth-gritted version of a smile. ‘I’ve explained to Noah that, with a firm like Calloway and Brandon behind her, Liane has a very good chance of pushing her claim for a half-share through the courts.’
‘But I thought—?’ Kate wasn’t quite sure how to put her question. ‘I assumed everything about the divorce had been finalised.’
Alan nodded. ‘That’s right. But Liane has twelve months after the decree absolute to file for property settlement. She can mount a case about her involvement at Radnor during her marriage, citing her contribution during the five-and-a-half years that she lived there, and her input into the running of the place.’
Kate could see why the courts would allow this. She knew nothing about the reasons for Noah and Liane’s divorce, but it made sense that a woman might need protection in certain circumstances.
She frowned. ‘But if Liane claims her half of Noah’s share, or half of his half-share, does that mean that Noah will end up with only a quarter of the estate?’
The solicitor nodded grimly. ‘A quarter of a drought-stricken estate at that.’
What a shock for Noah! Kate knew he’d expected to inherit Radnor intact, and now even his half-share would be whittled away. After he’d worked so hard on Radnor all his life, it seemed terribly unfair.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said, unable to keep a lid on her thoughts. ‘Why on earth has Uncle Angus given half of Radnor to me? It just doesn’t make any kind of sense.’
The men seemed unwilling or unable to answer her and, in the silence, the ceiling fan creaked as it circled slowly.
At last, Alan said, ‘Perhaps your uncle was being canny. It’s no secret that he never got on with Liane, and he may have anticipated that she could put in her claim for a half-share. He might have done this to frustrate her.’
Kate gave a helpless shake of her head. ‘You mean Angus didn’t want Liane to inherit half his property? But couldn’t Noah have bought her out?’
The two men exchanged a silent glance.
Noah said, ‘Given the drought, the banks aren’t very generous with their loans. I might have been forced to sell up the lot to meet Liane’s claims.’
‘Oh.’
He shrugged. ‘Now, with this new will, whatever happens half of Radnor stays in the family.’ His cool, faintly amused glance flickered over Kate.
To her dismay, her cheeks grew hot. Irrationally, she found herself remembering how very, very different Noah’s smile had been all those years ago, when she was seventeen… Just before he kissed her.
But it was feeble to remember that now.
Angry at her weakness, she spoke too loudly. ‘I’m sorry, but I know nothing about cattle, or running Outback properties in Australia. I’m quite prepared to say that I’m not entitled to a half-share in Radnor. It’s your home, Noah. Not mine.’
‘That’s not how it works,’ he said quietly.
She cast a frantic glance over the pile of papers on Alan Davidson’s desk, at his bookcases filled with expensively bound legal tomes. Surely lawyers knew clever ways to get round this kind of problem?
She was grateful that her boyfriend was safely tucked away on the other side of the world. As a man of finance, he would be horrified if he knew what she planned to say next. ‘I can hand my half back, can’t I? Give my share to Noah? I’m sure you know a way to devise some sensible arrangement.’
‘That is not going to happen.’ Noah spoke with such vehemence that Kate flinched. He scowled at her. ‘You don’t know what you’re saying, Kate.’
‘I know exactly what I’m saying.’
His face was dark, his mouth tight and hard, frighteningly hard. ‘No one hands over half an inheritance like Radnor.’
‘I can if I wish.’
Cursing beneath his breath, Noah leaned forward, eyes blazing. ‘Don’t be a fool. Radnor might have been blighted by drought for the better part of five years, but the property’s still valuable. All it takes is one good wet season. It’s over half a million acres.’
She gasped. That much? The scope of it was beyond imagining.
‘Even if that means nothing to you, Kate, I intend to respect Angus’s wishes. He obviously wanted you to have a half-share.’
‘That’s what I don’t understand,’ she said softly. ‘I know I’m his niece, but he looked on you as—as his son.’
‘Angus’s mind was perfectly sound.’ Noah spoke now with quiet resignation. ‘He knew exactly what he was doing, and he must have thought very carefully before changing his will.’
Perhaps it was her tiredness that made Kate angry. She wanted to stamp her feet, to yell at Noah, to urge him to stop being stubborn. How could he give up so easily? He’d worked so hard for Radnor.
Alan coughed discreetly. ‘If you hand your share over to Noah, Kate, there will be even more for Liane to claim.’
‘That’s true,’ said Kate quietly. In other words, she could be of more help to Noah if she retained her share. ‘But if Noah wants to stay on Radnor he must buy Liane out, mustn’t he? That’s what she’ll want, isn’t it—money rather than land?’
Alan pursed his lips. ‘Noah may not have a big enough share of the Radnor asset to raise the necessary money.’
‘Are you saying he’ll still be forced to sell up his share just to settle her claim?’
Kate was horrified. This was ridiculous. Noah had been born at Radnor. It was his home. His life. The very thought of him wandering about the Outback, looking for another job, starting again from scratch, was ludicrous!
Impulsively, she said, ‘We have no choice, then. Noah and I will have to form a partnership.’
Noah stared at Kate as if she’d grown a third ear.
To her eternal shame, she blushed again. ‘I— I m-mean a b-business partnership, of course. Then the partnership could buy Liane’s share. The banks wouldn’t turn down a proposal like that, would they?’
‘That’s generous,’ Noah said quietly. ‘But I won’t accept it.’
‘Hey!’ Alan suddenly turned on Noah. ‘Wake up, man. It’s only a business arrangement. Not marriage.’
Marriage?
Zap! To Kate’s horror her already hot cheeks turned fiery.
Noah’s chair scraped on the wooden floor, and he jumped to his feet. ‘What kind of fool comment is that?’
‘I was joking, of course,’ Alan quickly back-pedalled. He sent Kate a quick wink. ‘That’s how it would have happened in the good old days, of course. A quick, arranged marriage and, hey presto, everyone’s problems are solved.’
Kate was dismayed that Noah’s reaction was getting to her. Why did he have to make it so obvious that he was horrified by Alan’s lighthearted suggestion? She’d got the message nine years ago that he had no romantic interest in her.
To cover the awkwardness, Alan made a business of tidying the papers on his desk, setting them straight inside the folder. ‘You should both take a few days to think about this.’
Noah had moved to the door, one shoulder leaning on the jamb, his hands thrust deep in his pockets. He looked tired, as tired as Kate felt.
‘You’re right,’ he said quietly. ‘We need a few days. You’re jet lagged, Kate. You’re in no condition to be making rash offers. You need to get back to the house and have a good, long sleep. You’ll probably come to your senses in the morning.’
CHAPTER THREE
FROM habit Noah woke just before dawn.
He’d slept soundly, which was a surprise, as he’d been troubled by bad dreams ever since he’d found Angus slumped at his desk, ashen- faced and unconscious.
Now, grey dawn light seeped into his bedroom. Familiar details of the room came to life: the timber-framed window, the roll-top desk in the corner, the faded photo of his parents, the old pine chest of drawers…
Then he remembered.
He was going to lose all of this. He was going to lose his home. Lose Radnor.
He sat up quickly, fighting hot panic—caused not by a nightmare this time but by sickening reality.
With a groan, he threw his bedclothes aside, strode naked to the window and looked out at the flat, treeless landscape spreading endlessly, as far as the eye could see.
A terrible sense of loss flooded him. He was twenty-nine years old and he’d been born here. Not counting the years he’d spent at boarding school, this was the only home he’d ever known. He’d travelled, of course. He’d covered most of Australia and he’d seen prettier places—grander landscapes…richer country…
But a soul-deep love of these sparse, flat plains flowed in his veins. This country might be subject to drought, but its strength lay in its ability to rejuvenate. The rain would come eventually, and tenacity to weather the drought was part of the strength of the people who lived here.
Noah had that strength, that patience. And Angus had known it, damn it. But the old fox had tied up his will so that half of this property went to an English girl who’d been here once, almost a decade ago, for a brief holiday.
Noah jerked his gaze from the view and went through to his small adjoining bathroom.
Any normal guy would harbour resentment, he told himself as he palmed lather onto his jaw. He should be thinking about Kate Brodie with animosity and bitterness.
Not with hot-blooded lust.
He shouldn’t be remembering the last time she’d been here, the way he’d kissed her, and the way she’d responded. Hell, if he hadn’t had Angus’s warning ringing in his head, who knew what might have happened back then?
Angus had started bellowing orders even before Kate had arrived. At the time, it had nearly killed Noah to ignore Kate. He’d been completely smitten by her flashing green eyes, perfect skin and all that shiny red-gold hair. And her smile.
He’d broken down once and given into his need to taste Kate’s smiling lips, to touch her soft, warm, milk-white skin.
One kiss, despite Angus Harrington’s warning…
‘Hands off her, do you hear me? If you lay so much as a finger on my sister’s daughter, I’ll never forgive you, son.’
Son. For as long as Noah could remember, Angus had called him that. He’d been four at the time of his parents’ accident, and could barely remember them. His only memory was based on the photo on his dresser. His father, long-legged and dark, and no doubt smelling of dust and cigarettes, was leaning against the stock rails and grinning at his mother. She had a soft, heart-shaped face and pretty, pale-brown hair. Like Olivia’s.
Olivia. Noah grimaced and picked up the razor. He couldn’t afford to think about Olivia now, on top of everything else. Losing her, losing Radnor. Hell, any minute he’d start bawling.
He began to scrape with the razor, making dark tracks over his jaw through the white foam. But his thoughts winged straight back to Kate Brodie.
She’d changed a great deal. Matured was the word to use, he supposed. She had grown quieter. More serious.
Even more attractive and womanly.
Last night on the way home from Jindabilla she’d slept, which should have been fine. Noah had been grateful that she hadn’t wanted to carry on about Angus’s will. But she’d been so sleepy she’d ended up with her head on his shoulder, which meant he’d driven all those miles with the fragrance of her freshly shampooed hair filling his nostrils, with the warm pressure of her soft cheek against his shoulder, and the gentle hush of her breath on his neck.
And, when they’d reached the homestead, Kate had been so out of it that he’d had to help her inside. She’d leaned sleepily against him as they’d negotiated the stairs, with his arm about her slender waist, and he’d been super-conscious of her curves above and below.
Once Kate had changed and was ready for bed, he’d taken her hot cocoa, just as he might have done for Olivia.
Big mistake. Huge. How could he have been such an idiot? He’d found Kate in bed in a silky nightdress of skimpy cream silk with lace trims and thin straps, hair sleep-tumbled, eyelashes drooping. She’d blushed profusely and muttered apologies as she accepted the cocoa.
Remembering how she’d looked made him…
Damn. He nicked his jaw.
It was too long since he’d been with a woman.
But Kate Brodie was not the solution to that particular problem, Noah decided as he jutted his jaw and dabbed at the nick with the corner of a towel.
Why on earth had Alan Davidson let fly yesterday with that crazy comment about a marriage of convenience? He must have known that Noah couldn’t contemplate any kind of marriage after the messy divorce he’d just been through. Hell. Maybe Alan had been running every option through his bloody legal brain—but did he have to voice the crazy ones?
As for Kate’s suggestion that they form a business partnership, she’d been talking off the top of her head without really thinking it through. Very soon she’d come to her senses and realise that the last thing she wanted was to have her life tied up in a cattle station on the other side of the world.
The sooner she went back to England, the better.
He’d work out a way to solve his own problems, without getting tangled up with Angus’s niece. She’d been trouble enough last time she’d come to Radnor.
Kate tossed and turned. She’d been awake for what felt like ages, her body clock disoriented and her mind churning over the events of yesterday. The questions buzzed in her head like maddened flies. Why had Angus Harrington made such an unexpected bequest? What did he want from her? What was he hoping?
It was such an astonishing legacy. Bewildering.
She found herself wondering if Alan Davidson had been right when he’d suggested that Angus had left her half of Radnor to protect his property from Noah’s divorced wife. And, if that was so, what had he hoped Kate would do about it now?
Could he possibly expect her to live here, to run Radnor with Noah?
Poor Angus. He wouldn’t have made such a mistake if he’d known their history. If only she’d had the courage to confide in her uncle. Over the years, she’d sent him letters, but she’d only ever told Angus about her fascination for Australia, for his cattle property and his lifestyle. Not a word about Noah.
If Angus Harrington had known how silly she’d been, he might not have pushed them into this awkward partnership.
Wincing as her mind came back to this dead end for the hundredth time, Kate leapt out of bed. She checked her mobile, but there were no messages.
It would be early evening in England. She tried phoning her mother, but she was out, so she left a message that she’d arrived safely and all was well. Kate didn’t mention her surprise inheritance. She needed to speak to her mother in person about that. She dialled again and got through to Derek’s mobile.
She kept her voice low so that she didn’t wake Noah. ‘Hi there, Derek, it’s Kate.’
‘Oh, really? Where are you?’
‘In Australia.’ What a strange question. Where else would she be? She wished Derek didn’t sound so put out. ‘I just wanted to let you know I made it here safely.’
‘Sorry. Can you speak up?’
She could hear laughter and music in the background.
‘How long do you think you’ll be in Australia?’ Derek asked, raising his voice to reach her over the noise.
Wishing she’d gone outside to make this call, Kate spoke as loudly as she dared. ‘I’m still not sure. Not very long, I guess, but there have been complications.’
It would be good to tell Derek about her inheritance. His experience in the banking world could be helpful, and he’d be sure to offer great advice about business partnerships. But if Derek was at a party…
‘Can I hear people speaking in German?’ she asked.
‘What? Oh, can you hear that? Yes, there’s a table of Germans close by.’
‘Are you down at the pub?’
This was met by a marked hesitation on the other end of the line, more than the normal time lapse on an international call. ‘No.’ Derek sounded uneasy. ‘I’m in—eh—Birmingham. It’s a business thing—I’m with clients.’
It was a clear dismissal. Derek was busy and didn’t want to chat, and Kate tried hard not to mind. ‘I’d better not keep you, then.’
They said goodbye and she disconnected, and knew she was silly to feel dissatisfied. If Derek was busy with clients she could hardly expect a romantic chat. Anyway, sweet talk had never been his style.
Just the same…
She sighed. Perhaps Derek was stressed. He often got stressed about his job, and it was probably tension rather than impatience that she’d heard in his voice. A yawn escaped her, and she realised she hadn’t had nearly enough sleep. But there was no point in going back to bed. Noah would be up and about soon. What she needed was a shower to freshen her up.
She was sorting through her things, trying to choose suitable clothes for a hot, sticky day in the Outback, when footsteps sounded on the veranda outside her room and then there was a knock at the French doors. Kate opened them a chink.
‘Morning, Kate.’
Noah’s dark hair was damp, his rugged jaw clean and smooth as if he’d just shaved, and there was a nick just below his ear. Kate could smell the tang of his aftershave, and she had to clutch the door frame for support when he gave her a slow smile.
‘Is it too early for you for breakfast?’ he asked.
‘Not at all.’ She was annoyed by how suddenly breathless she sounded. ‘I can be ready in a jiffy. I’ll come and help you.’
He shrugged. ‘No need to rush. But you didn’t eat last night, so I’m thinking you’ll need the works—a full cooked breakfast.’
She was smiling through her quick shower, and while she changed into linen shorts and a T-shirt and then hurried down the hallway.
Divine smells were coming from the kitchen. More disturbingly divine was the sight of Noah at the stove. Oh, help. A woman was not supposed to finish a phone call with her boyfriend and immediately go weak at the knees at the sight of another man.
How was it possible that Noah could look so super-attractive standing at a kitchen stove, turning sausages? Maybe she was still affected by jet lag. Or the heat. Or maybe it was something to do with the clothes these Outback guys wore—Noah’s low-slung jeans and rumpled cotton shirt.
Heavens. What was wrong with her? How could she be so fickle? Hastily, she tried to substitute Derek into this scene—Derek wearing those battered jeans and nonchalantly flipping sausages and eggs at half-past six in the morning.
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