New Arrivals: Surprise Baby for Him: The Cattleman's Adopted Family / The Soldier's Homecoming / Marriage for Baby. Melissa McClone
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as his horse cantered across a creek.
For a short stretch of silence, she let her thoughts play with these swoon-worthy images. She stole a glance at Seth’s jeans-clad thighs, toned from all the hours he’d spent in the saddle, watched the competent way he drove over the rough ground, one hand on the steering wheel, the other smoothly shifting gears.
He was all hard-packed male and capable strength and every time she remembered the way he’d kissed her, the way his hands had touched her, her body caught fire.
Hugging the memories like happy secrets, she dug into her scanty understanding of the cattle industry to find more questions to put to him. When were the cattle mustered? When were calves born and weaned? Were the wetseason floods a problem? How often was a vet required? When did the stock go to market?
Seth answered politely and patiently, but she sensed his cautiousness, too, as if he didn’t want to bore her with unnecessary details. His caution bothered her. Couldn’t he guess that she would never be bored by anything to do with him? Or his lifestyle?
He pulled up at a group of cottages beside timber-railed stockyards. ‘I thought you might like to meet one of the families who live here,’ he said.
‘I’d love that,’ Amy replied with an eagerness that was totally sincere.
Seth frowned and she wondered what she’d said wrong.
Still frowning, he said, ‘By the way, these folk know about you and Bella.’
Before she could ask him how much they knew, a tall, rather splendid-looking Aboriginal man came towards them, walking with a longlegged, easy stride.
Seth introduced him as Barney Prior, Serenity’s head stockman.
As Amy shook hands with Barney the flyscreen door of the nearest cottage opened and a young woman, willow slender, with arresting green eyes and hair the colour of rich marmalade, waved to them.
She was wearing a colourful sarong and a sky-blue vest top. Her feet were bare, her toenails painted blue to match her clothes, and a silver chain twinkled at her ankle. Despite her fair complexion, she looked wonderfully at home in this tropical outpost.
Amy liked her at first sight, and her name, she soon learned, was Celia. She was Barney’s wife. They’d met in Cairns, they happily explained, and they’d lived together on Serenity station for ten years.
Their two children appeared close behind Celia—a golden-skinned, bright-eyed boy of six and a shy little girl of three.
As soon as Bella was released from her seat belt she shot out of the vehicle like a champagne cork from a bottle. ‘Hello, kids! Hello, hello! My name’s Bella.’
Luckily the children were charmed by her lavish enthusiasm for their company, and a mutual admiration society was quickly formed.
Within a matter of moments, Seth and Barney were lounging in squatters’ chairs on the veranda, keeping watch over the giggling children, who were already climbing the railings on the stockyard fence.
‘These guys are going to talk non-stop about the weather and the condition of the cattle,’ Celia told Amy with a friendly wink. ‘Why don’t we go inside?’
Amy sniffed with delight as she caught delicious smells coming from the kitchen. ‘You’ve been baking.’
‘Scones.’ Celia laughed. ‘I knew Seth was coming.’ She glanced at the stove. ‘They won’t be ready for a few more minutes. I left it a bit late, because I’ve been busy in the studio. Would you like to see my paintings while we wait?’
For a moment, Amy thought Celia was joking. Uncertain what to expect, she followed her onto a side veranda facing north, enclosed with glass louvres to let in the light. The area was filled with easels and paint pots, and it smelled of turps. Stacked against the inner walls were Celia’s paintings.
And. They. Were. Amazing.
Bold, arresting, they completely captured every nuance of the wild beauty of the northern landscape. Amy saw scenes of the open country with straggly pandanus palms, red earth and anthills, scenes of the stockyards, of the main homestead and the gardens, glimpses of the tangled vines, the massive trees and the dark, secret magnificence of the rainforest. And views of the sea.
‘These are stunning,’ Amy murmured, full of genuine admiration. ‘I’m sure they’d fetch a fortune in Melbourne.’
Celia smiled. ‘They do.’
‘So you’ve already sold your work?’
‘Yes. I’ve sold several pieces through the Flinders Lane Gallery.’
‘Goodness.’ Amy laughed. ‘Sorry for making assumptions. You’re way ahead of me, aren’t you?’ And then she remembered. ‘My friend Rachel brought back fabulous paintings from her trip up this way.’
‘Rachel Tyler?’
‘Yes.’ Amy wondered how much Seth had revealed about her links to Rachel. Celia had shown no curiosity about the sudden arrival of a woman and small child on Serenity. Was she simply being polite?
‘Rachel was a terrific help,’ Celia said. ‘She gave me my best contact down there, and, thanks to her efforts, I made enough money through sales to take the whole family to Italy last wet season.’ She grinned. ‘Can you believe I did an art course in Florence?’
‘How fabulous.’
‘I painted to my heart’s content, while Barney and the kids ate pizza and gelato and explored the sights. They had a ball.’ Abruptly, Celia’s smile faded. ‘I was so shocked to hear that Rachel died. I couldn’t believe it.’
Amy nodded sadly.
‘She seemed so happy when she was here,’ Celia said. ‘She should have stayed.’ She shot Amy a rueful smile. ‘A car accident. Just goes to show, those cities are dangerous places.’
‘They certainly can be.’
Amy almost asked Celia if she was happy living here in a place that had apparently frightened Rachel and would terrify most city women. But she’d already seen the way the other woman’s eyes had glowed when she’d exchanged smiles with her husband, and she was sure she knew the answer without asking.
Morning tea was served on the veranda—strongly brewed and accompanied by Celia’s scones with blackberry jam and cream.
‘Ah.’ Seth beamed a blissful smile as he swallowed the last mouthful of his second scone. ‘Ming’s a genius with a wok, but when it comes to scones he can’t hold a candle to Celia.’
Amy bit her tongue before she made a hopeless fool of herself by announcing that she baked quite decent scones, too.
When it was time to say goodbye, Bella cried because she didn’t want to be parted from her new friends and Seth took her for a ride on his shoulders to calm her down.
Celia hugged Amy and said how much she’d enjoyed her company. Amy was equally enthusiastic, but when she glanced Seth’s way she saw the flare of dismay in his eyes and the sudden tight set of his mouth—and her spirits sank.
It was clear she’d done something to displease him, and she was terribly afraid he was upset because he’d kissed her. Again.
Big fat drops of rain began to fall as they drove back to the homestead. Amy caught the cindery smell of dampening earth, and wound up her window as the heavy drops splattered the dusty vehicle.
In no time the rain was torrential. Amy had never seen such heavy rain and she had to shout to be heard—and she also had to accept that it was not a good time to tackle Seth about his brooding tension and grimness.
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