Cattle Baron Needs a Bride / Sparks Fly with Mr Mayor: Cattle Baron Needs a Bride / Sparks Fly with Mr Mayor. Margaret Way
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in her daughter. The same incredibly beautiful dark eyes, so lustrous and full of expression.
“And how good of you to ask me!” Zara moved swiftly across the big beautiful plantfilled room the family had always called the Garden Room. She slipped gracefully to her knees so she could be almost at Daniel’s eye level. She took his hands in hers, squeezing them very gently. “And how are you, Daniel? Your eyes are as bright and perceptive as ever!”
“Getting there, Zara,” he said with a lopsided grin. “I could do with a kiss on the cheek.”
“Kisses on both cheeks,” she said, rising to her feet. “I’m so happy to be here. I bought you some books I hope you’re going to enjoy. The latest from your favourite authors.”
She bent to kiss his cheek, right, then left, then right again as he whispered in her ear, “Welcome home, Zara.”
Home? She felt a painful wrench of emotion she was just barely able to conceal.
“Maybe you can help Ellie read to me,’ Daniel suggested, smiling at his devoted wife. “She’s just so good to me. Glued to my side. It isn’t fair on her. But I’m having a bit of trouble holding books these days and the medication I’m taking is making my eyesight blurry, so I do enjoy having someone read to me.”
“Then Helen and I will work out some shifts,” Zara said, waiting on Helen’s smiling nod of assent. “Actually, I like the idea. I love reading. I’ll love reading to you.”
His father reclined in his wheelchair looking at Zara as if she was an angel sent straight from Heaven, Garrick thought. Both of them wore expressions of great satisfaction.
Daniel looked past Zara to his son, standing there with such eye-catching male grace, so marvellously strong and alive. All he had to do now was survive until Garrick and Zara got back together again. He had no illusions he had much time. “You’re going to stay in for lunch, aren’t you, Rick?”
“Sure, if you want me to, Dad,” Garrick said, although he knew he’d have things to catch up on. Coorango had an excellent foreman, Bill Knox, but Bill tended to get a bit anxious when there were major decisions to be made. Aerial mustering was about to begin and the particular areas of the vast station to be worked needed to be sorted out. He already knew too many of their cattle had strayed over into the desert proper looking for feed. They had to be brought in.
“Of course I want you to! This is a great day,” Daniel exclaimed with real enthusiasm. “I haven’t felt so well in a long time.”
Pray God, the mistakes of the past could be put behind them.
Zara ventured out on her own the following morning. As a horsewoman, she was nowhere in the league of Sally Draper, but she was a lot more accomplished than most city-bred girls. Garrick had flown off to Biri Biri in one of the choppers before she had even had breakfast. But then it was his habit to start the day at sunrise. A typical mustering day, she knew, began well before daybreak. The chartered helicopters had arrived, two of them, because two could cover much more country in less time and control the movement of the cattle so much better.
She was looking forward to watching the muster. She would have to wait until Garrick got back. It was exciting to hear the whap-whap-whap of the rotor blades as they sliced through the hot air. Exciting being part of it all. The choppers swept far and wide, pushing small mobs of cattle at a time into the long makeshift “funnels” that led to the holding yards. One of the big holding yards Garrick had had shifted the previous afternoon, telling them over dinner it hadn’t been in the right place. Running a cattle station the size of Coorango was a big job for a big man. Garrick had had to take command years before he’d expected to, but he had stepped into his father’s shoes with certainty. He had been trained by the best. Operating a vast property was in his blood.
Helen had picked out one of the quieter horses from the stable for her, an exquisitely made little chestnut mare that radiated sweet temper. She was called Satin and Zara could see why. The mare had such an exceptional shiny coat; she might have been groomed for the Melbourne Cup.
“Now, don’t go too far, dear,” Helen cautioned. “It’s quite a while since you’ve been here.”
“Sad to say,” Zara commented, stroking the mare’s neck. “No further than the Blue Lady Lagoon, Helen, I promise. I’ll be home well in time for lunch. Did Garrick say what time he’d be back?”
Helen shook her head. “He’ll stay as long as it takes. I’m really disappointed in Patrick. He’s been an excellent stockman, but he broke up with his girlfriend in the Alice not all that long ago. Must have been the start of it—the drinking, I mean. We didn’t realize she meant all that much to him. He certainly never said. Love affairs that go wrong!” Helen lamented. “They take their toll.”
“Know the feeling!” Zara gave the older woman a wry smile.
“You are in control of your life now, Zara,” Helen said.
As soon as she was out of sight of the main compound and its satellite buildings, Zara gently kicked her heels into the mare’s flanks. The response was immediate. Satin was as keen on a gallop as she was. Sweettempered she might be, but the mare seemed to revel in the opportunity to put on a show. She surged forward, breaking into a smooth, long striding gallop that showed her soundness and quality.
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