Amy's Touch (19 page)

Danny acted as tally clerk. He checked the numbers of sheep shorn by each shearer and, at the end of the shed, the shorn sheep were pushed down a ramp into the sunlight. Amy spied Randall, dressed like the others, shearing a sheep. With Danny occupied sweeping the floor, gathering the fleece and throwing it on the classing table, then putting it into the wool press, she had the opportunity to study Randall. His head was slightly bent, his features knotted in concentration, and several strands of his black hair fell onto his forehead as he worked. Unwillingly, but predictably, her heart swelled with love. Dear God in Heaven, what was she going to do? Mesmerised by his wide shoulders, the rippling muscles in his arms that were shiny with sweat, she studied the perfect masculinity of him, and watched one large, square hand grip the shears while his other hand pulled the shorn fleece back.

And then her thoughts descended into a quandary of queries, of ifs and maybes…Becoming slightly giddy, she put the tray down on the classing table and worked hard to get her unruly heartbeat under control. They hadn’t spoken about that afternoon down by the creek since it happened. What could be said? That it should never have taken place? That it was wrong? That nothing would change? Which was so, because she and Randall were honourable people and had decided—without consultation—on a particular path, and would walk that path without the person they loved by their side.

‘Smoko time, boys!’ Alf, the gun shearer, called out, putting his shears down.

Beth and Jim arrived with mugs and a large teapot and placed them on the table next to the tray of damper. The shearers clamoured around the food while Beth poured the tea, offered sugar, and doled out the steaming mugs. After which they all, including Danny, Jim and Randall, cleared out of the shed into the sunshine.

‘They’re a hungry lot.’ Amy’s tone was tinged with amazement when she saw that only two pieces of damper remained on the tray.

‘Indeed. Shearers are renowned for their appetite,’ Beth replied, her tone schoolmarmish, as if she were speaking to a not-too-bright child. ‘Give them good food and they’ll eat every morsel; be stingy and the word goes out, and next spring you might find it hard to get shearers in to do any work.’

As she spoke, Beth was eyeing Amy, noting that her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes had a sparkle in them. She had come into the shed in time to see the way her future sister-in law was studying not her own fiancé, but Randall! And it wasn’t the first or even the second time she had noticed Amy’s preoccupation. She didn’t like that at all. Beth was a few years older than Amy, and was not her father’s daughter for nothing. Therefore, she was sufficiently astute to understand that Amy had…what? She pondered over that question for several seconds before deciding: a
tenderness
for Randall.

Could the woman be in love with Danny and infatuated with Randall at the same time? Whether that was possible or not, Beth knew one thing: she wasn’t going to let Amy or anyone else get in the way of her marrying Randall. She had chosen him and she would bind him to her securely—making sure she became pregnant as soon as she could—after they were wed, which was to be in less than two months’ time. About that she was utterly determined.

But that didn’t solve the problem of Amy’s tenderness towards
her
fiancé. But there were options…Come January they could all be living under the one roof, where there might be…opportunities, the possibility of liaisons. Beth became thoughtful as she watched Amy pick up the tray and walk outside. Not if she had anything to do with it. Once she was with Randall she would suggest, encourage,
demand
if necessary, that Amy and Danny find other accommodation when they married, which might not be too hard considering that Amy intended to continue her nursing work and promoting the benefits of a country women’s league in the district.

There was no reason why they couldn’t live in the McLeans’ original homestead. It was old and needed some renovating to make
it habitable, but that might be a satisfactory arrangement. In the meantime she would continue to watch the way Amy and Randall dealt with each other—like a hawk!

The shearers moved on after four days, and for the following week and a half Amy spent every spare moment she had, while at home or at the hospital, searching her heart and soul, trying to decide what was the right thing to do. She thought about the problem day and night, lost her appetite, didn’t get enough sleep, and generally felt utterly miserable.

Should she remain engaged to Danny? He loved her so much that she believed he would take her on whatever terms she requested. But was that fair to him or to her? It wasn’t. And then, what about Randall? He said he was in love with her but had not intimated any intention of breaking his engagement to Beth. For a while Amy had agonised over that, believing he was prepared to marry Beth for the indecently high dowry Bill Walpole had settled on her. Finally, though, she’d decided that was an unworthy thought, and the real reason Randall had chosen the road he had was that he didn’t want to break his brother’s heart and drive a wedge between them. She had not seen brothers as close or as compatible as Danny and Randall, and in a bittersweet way, she understood Randall’s logic. Besides, she didn’t want to hurt Danny either!

She was also wise enough to know that just because a man wanted to make love to you, it didn’t mean he wanted to marry you. She gave a small internal moan as she stripped a hospital bed to get it ready for the next patient. Oh! She was giving herself an almost permanent headache trying to find a solution for everyone, and the more she thought about it, the more she realised that satisfying everyone concerned was impossible. She loved Randall, Danny loved her, Beth was in love with Randall, and…?

Randall was a difficult man to read, not like his brother, and marrying Beth would assure him success with Drovers Way. Whereas if he married Amy, it would create a new set of problems. Danny would hate him, Beth would hate Amy and Randall, and Bill Walpole…well! She’d heard on good authority that he could be vicious when riled.

A silent sigh fluttered from her lips. Whichever view she took, life in Gindaroo could become…close to untenable. Invariably, people would choose sides, as they were wont to do. And it might even affect
her father’s work at the hospital. Many country people still, because of a lack of choice until recently, home-medicated themselves, and were reluctant to trust an outsider. However, she’d worked closely with her father for several years now and knew how fortunate the district was to have a doctor of his calibre.

So, where was this mental deliberation getting her? Nowhere. Continuing to think as, several hours later, she walked home from duty at the hospital, Amy was hard-pressed not to give in and just let the tears flow. She would be seeing Danny tonight and she was not looking forward to it, because when they were together, it was becoming more and more difficult to be herself.

The October evening was mild enough for a walk after dinner and, arm in arm, Danny and Amy strolled to Braddon Park in Queen Street, watched half a dozen young men playing cricket on the pitch in the twilight, then settled on a bench halfway down the slope towards the creek.

‘This time next month, Randall will be married,’ Danny said. ‘It’s still hard to believe that it’s going to happen. You know, I talk to him about you all the time, while he hardly ever mentions Beth’s name. When he does,’ Danny paused to chuckle at the revelation, ‘it sounds more like she’s going to be his business partner than his wife.’

‘Even so, I’m sure Randall has a certain vision for Drovers, and Beth is part of that vision.’

‘Just between you and me, I don’t think he’s in love with her, though. Lately, he appears quite preoccupied.’

Amy’s heartbeat quickened as her eyebrows rose. ‘With what?’

‘I don’t know. Someone or something is on his mind.’

‘Beth?’

Danny shook his head. ‘I don’t know. Where his feelings are concerned he can be quite secretive.’ An arm went around her shoulders as he pulled her closer. ‘I don’t want to talk about Randall, though. Let’s talk about us.’ He turned his head to plant a kiss on her cheek, and his free hand found hers and squeezed it. ‘It’s going to be so great, us being married.’

Amy did her best not to evade his touch, to respond to the tenderness in his voice, to the knowledge that he cared deeply for her. In her own way she cared for him too, only it wasn’t…what? The same depth of passion she felt towards his brother. With Randall, her response scared her because of its intensity.

Trying to take her mind off her problems she gazed up at the distant ranges. It was raining on the peaks and the last rays of the sun hit the rain as it fell over the hillsides. ‘Oh, look, Danny, a rainbow. Isn’t it beautiful?’

‘It’s nice,’ he agreed, ‘but not as beautiful as you.’

For several minutes they sat staring at one of nature’s phenomena in companionable awe, and as twilight lingered, then darkened, the rainbow faded.

‘Guess we should go,’ Danny murmured, regret in his tone. He stood up, took her hands and pulled her up in front of him, and, in the encroaching darkness, hugged her. ‘Will you be coming to Drovers tomorrow to ride the Duchess?’

She hadn’t ridden her horse since that afternoon at the creek with Randall, and Danny had asked her several times when she was going to.

‘Of course, after lunch,’ she promised.

Arm in arm, they made their way back to the welcoming lights of Primrose Cottage.

Danny stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror as he lathered up to shave. He’d now got used to not having a moustache, after having one for years. The expression in his brown eyes was pensive. He had…concerns. There had been a change, at first so subtle that he hadn’t noticed it, in his relationship with Amy. Recently, little things had emerged, such as a sense of her being elsewhere mentally when she hadn’t been before; of her appearing to be distant; of her suddenly going all quiet and withdrawing from him. For a while he chose to believe she was concentrating on her nursing work—her father was giving her more responsibility at the hospital—and on developing her project of a country women’s league. Methodically, as he reflected on these things, he began to shave along his jawline.

Her behaviour was more than just being withdrawn and distant, and he couldn’t work out why, nor just simply put it down to prewedding jitters. As he shaved, he tried to dispel the unease building inside him. The emotion was reminiscent of how his gut would tighten before a battle. Was he imagining things with regard to Amy because, secretly, he was still amazed that she had agreed to marry him? Or…He didn’t complete the thought.

Picking up a damp washcloth he wiped the excess soap off his face. Staring at his clean-shaven image, he scolded himself. You’re making something out of nothing. Forget your anxieties and just
enjoy being with her. Satisfied with this reprimand, he went downstairs to do justice to Jim’s Sunday roast.

Jim and Danny were practising cracking their whips when Amy drove into Drovers’ front yard. Sharp crackling sounds rent the bush’s serenity as the two men vied with each other to make the loudest noise. Randall, in the largest shed-cum-barn, oiling tack and two saddles, watched from the shadows of the shed as Amy got out of her father’s automobile and pulled a wicker basket from the passenger seat. In spite of himself, he smiled and wondered what goodies the basket contained. She always brought a treat made by Meg when she came to ride her horse—it was her way of thanking them for agisting the Duchess, he supposed.

Today she was hatless, and her brown hair, often coiled in a French roll for the sake of tidiness, fell freely to halfway down her back, sparkling in the afternoon sunshine.

What would he give to run his fingers through her hair and tug her face close enough to kiss her? Damn. He put down the tin of oil and the rag he’d been using, and his hands clenched into fists till the knuckles showed white. Then, contrarily, for a few seconds he allowed the surge of wanting her to control him, almost relishing the sweet pain of denial that came with it. Blood coursed through his veins like a creek in flood, and his heartbeat raced like a two-year-old colt enjoying a gallop—until common sense triumphed. He adjusted his expression, wiped his hands on a cloth, took a deep breath, and went out to say hello.

‘Good afternoon, Randall.’ Amy handed him the basket. ‘Meg’s put something in there for your supper.’

‘We appreciate that.’ It was a trite thanks, spoken to cover his feelings. There were so many things he longed to say and couldn’t. ‘The Duchess is ready. She’s in the breaking-in yard. Just needs to have her bridle put on.’ And then, loath to leave her to her own devices, because every second they spent together was precious to him, he walked with her towards the yard.

The Duchess whinnied a greeting as she recognised Amy, and trotted up to her. Amy began to stroke her muzzle and neck.

‘I’ll get her bridle,’ Randall offered. He disappeared into the shed and was back in less than a minute.

Standing on opposite sides of the horse, Amy and Randall put the bridle on the Duchess together. Their fingers touched. Not a word
was spoken as they stared into each other’s eyes then, guiltily, moved their gaze elsewhere.

Danny, who’d climbed up and was sitting on top of the breakingin yard’s fence, happened to see the intense look that passed between his fiancée and his brother. Something stilled inside him for several seconds then, suddenly light-headed, he placed his hands on the top rail to steady himself. He swallowed the lump in his throat and tried to tear his eyes away from them, but couldn’t. They were still there, holding on to the horse’s bridle, staring at each other again as if…

As if they were alone, in their own private world. Danny’s mouth tightened as he studied Randall. He
knew
that look. He’d seen other men eye Amy that way, but in his brother’s case, something told Danny that it was more than everyday lust. God Almighty, there was…love!…in his eyes, in his expression, in the way he leaned towards Amy, not touching her yet keeping her close by the power of the emotion coursing between them.