An Outback Affair/Runaway Wife/Outback Bridegroom/Outback Surrender/Home To Eden (15 page)

“And I reminded you of her?” Laura was dismayed.

“Momentarily. Until I looked into your beautiful eyes. Monika is part of the past. Gone for ever. I would trust you with my life.”

Her heart clamped. Would he feel like that in the light of her own disclosures? “Do you think you have begun to heal?”

“I know so.” He dropped a hungry kiss on her mouth. “You've brought back the beauty to my life. I really needed help but I didn't know where to start looking. How was I to even dream help would come from the girl next door?” he asked with tender humour.

“Then I've achieved something worthwhile in my life.” Even if things went badly in the future, if psychotic Colin should be the end of her, she would be left with the magical time she and Evan had spent together.

“You could say that, love of mine. I feel incredibly blessed to have met you.”

“Please don't put me on a pedestal, Evan,” she warned.

“As though you could betray me.” He stared down at her,
wanting her desperately again. “I need you and you need me. You're not cold?” he asked, as she shivered slightly.

“A tiny bit.”

“I'll soon cure that. I'm burning away myself. Only for you.” He took her cool, slender body fully into his arms. “Do you think you could bear more lovemaking?”

She let her arm encircle his beloved head as her lips formed the exquisite word. “Yes!”

Those starved of love can't get enough.

K
OOMERA
Crossing was
en fête
. Today was the wedding day of two of the town's favourite people. Kyall McQueen, master of the historic station Wunnamurra, and Sarah Dempsey, head of Koomera Crossing Bush Hospital. Both had been born and bred in their beloved Channel Country, and now they were to be finally united as man and wife.

The guest list numbered over three hundred. Those who hadn't made it weren't left out. A day-into-evening party had been organised for the townspeople in the main street. All traffic had been blocked off. Brightly coloured bunting flew from the shopfronts and crisscrossed the street. Long trestle tables and chairs had been set up. Piped music had been organized.

Celebrations would start with a magnificent brunch, the beef, the veal, the lamb and the pork supplied by Wunnamurra Station. There were to be savoury dishes galore, with all the accompaniments. Mexican-style chilli, favourite pizzas, pies and pastas, salads. Jumbo desserts.

All in praise of the legendary McQueen family, whose financial generosity for well over a century had made the town what it was.

Mrs Ruth McQueen, now dead, had fought for the town hospital—in the process saving many lives. Everyone acknowledged this freely. But no one wanted her back. So far as the town was concerned her grandson Kyall was the right candidate for taking over the many business concerns. Overnight he had become heir to the family fortune, with all the right talents to make his grand inheritance and the town grow. He deserved his beautiful bride.

It came into Laura's mind that this day, so blissful for Sarah and Kyall and their lovely daughter Fiona, so recently discovered, would have a different outcome for her.

Nonetheless she dressed with excitement in the outfit she and Evan had settled on from a choice of three—Evan at the outset had said with such enthusiasm, “That's exactly you!” and had made her and the saleswoman laugh.

The dress, a lovely jacaranda into violet chiffon, was printed with deep pink full-blown roses and buds with sprays of silver-green leaves, its style paying homage to the graceful cocktail gowns of the 1920s. The sleeveless bodice dipped low. The ankle-length hem of the skirt was trimmed with fine silvery-green lace. There were violet silk and lace sandals to match; an exquisite pink silk rose for her hair. It was a very lyrical look, very feminine. A style that suited her better than any other.

In the old ballroom of the homestead, that had been turned into a flower-decked chapel, Sarah and Kyall made their vows before the visiting Bishop.

As the Bishop began the traditional words of the wedding ceremony, and the congregation of wedding guests dissolved into a reverent silence, Laura felt the tears rising to her eyes. She couldn't fail to remember her own wedding day. Her ravishing white satin gown, miles of skirt, her cathedral-length veil held in place by an antique diamond and pearl diadem lent to her by her mother-in-law—to be returned the same day—her bouquet of white rosebuds… She had gone to her husband a virgin. He had done such things to her. Was it any wonder she felt shame? The man she now knew she loved, Evan, stood beside her, his height and powerful build making him look regal in his wedding finery, his dark head slightly bowed as if to say these were serious and solemn moments.

God protect them, Laura thought as she rejoiced in the bride and groom's happiness. They were already a family. Complete. To one side stood their young daughter in her wedding finery, a cream silk-tulle dress with crystal embroidery on the full floating skirt. Sarah, the bride, wore the palest shade of gold, a simple garland of yellow and cream roses in her magnificent golden hair. She looked heavenly.

Did I look heavenly? Laura thought, falling into a sad little
reverie. People said I did. Even Colin's parents had beamed on her as a suitable bride for their son.

What did they think of her now? She could imagine the lies Colin had fed them. No one could be more persuasive. Not that his parents would need much convincing. It would be far too painful, too grievous, for them to consider their only son was less than perfect, much less a wife-beater.

The ceremony over, the walls of guests milled all over the house—the ballroom and reception rooms, the huge entrance hall that formed the heart of the house—spilling out onto the broad verandahs and down into the homestead's grounds, a parkland manicured for the great occasion.

Two giant white marquees had been set up for the sumptuous reception at which Kyall spoke so lovingly and movingly of his love for his bride, the magic of their wedding day, the miracle of being reunited with their child. Laura and Harriet, who sat at the same table, had difficulty holding back the tears.

“This is what I've always wanted,” Harriet, resplendent in gold with big pearls around her neck, whispered to Laura. “For Sarah and Kyall to be happily married.”

Mitchell Claydon, so very dashing, with an intriguing dimple in one cheek, made everyone laugh. Then Kyall's beautiful sister, Christine, spoke in warm, honeyed tones that had more than a suggestion of an American accent about the childhood of all four, Sarah and Kyall, she and Mitch, and the applause overflowed.

It was a time for high emotion for all. Sarah came to them and they all hugged her, hugged Sarah's daughter, Fiona, so much the image of her mother it took the breath away.

“Isn't this the most marvellous day?” Fiona cried exuberantly, her arm around her mother's waist, clinging to her. “And I'm going on the honeymoon!”

“We couldn't bear to leave her.” Sarah smiled radiantly at everyone, embracing her daughter. Then Sarah in turn was surrounded by other groups of people who wanted to wish her all the happiness in the world.

The sun was a great golden ball, the sky a cloudless im
perial royal blue. As Laura and Evan strolled down to the green crystal creek that wound its way lazily through the home gardens Evan laid a gentle hand on Laura's arm, slowing her progress.

“What is it, sweetheart? Are those tears of joy, or what?” He couldn't help but be aware she was very emotional.

“It's been an amazing experience,” she sighed. “There's so much love between them.”

“There is, and it's wonderful, but why so sad?”

“You know me too well.” She turned to walk a few feet.

“Sometimes, my love, I think I don't know you at all,” he said wryly.

“But you like what you do know?” She stopped beneath a shade tree covered with purple buds.

“I
love
what I do know.” His tone held astonishing warmth. “I've waited quite a while for you to confide in me. I guess I can hang on a bit longer.”

“You must!” Her voice broke a little with emotion. Colin couldn't be allowed to threaten them. “Evan, I love you so much.” He was her strength, her security.

“So why are we wasting time?” He turned her to face him. Flames flared in his dark eyes. “I want a future together. I want a loving, stable relationship. I want marriage. Children. Do you want children, Laura?”

She caught a blossom as it fell, inhaling its sweet perfume. “I love children. The sweetest thing in the world is a baby.”

“You never mention your doctor any more.”

“So don't remind me.”

“Not on this festive day, but clearly he's an issue that has to be settled.”

“I know that, Evan.”

“Your feelings for him drove you out here. I saw how unhappy you were. I can feel the sadness in you today.”

“Then I'm going to make up my mind to be happy,” she promised him. “I am happy.” She lifted her glossy, rose-adorned head to meet his ardent gaze. “You're so very, very, important to me. I long more than anything in the world for us to be together.”

“Then we will.”

“No matter what?” She felt her heart crack.

“No matter what.”

“Promise?” she begged, putting a hand to the lapel of his pearl-grey jacket, fancying she could hear the beat of his heart.

He was mad to kiss her.

In full view of the strolling guests he bent his head, muttering, “I do,” into her sweet open mouth.

“Then that's that!”

Evan wanted just two things. To love her. To look after her. Whatever involvement she had with her ex-lover, he was going to bring it to an end.

He knew he only had to pick up the phone to track the man down. After all the news stories he'd broken, finding Laura's mystery doctor would be a piece of cake. No difficulty either finding out Laura's true identity. Her background.

Only love for her and the feeling he would be intruding on her right to privacy held him in check. He had been talking about their trip to the Red Centre a week later. She would have her chance to confide in him then.

 

To Laura's mind the beauty of the mighty monolith Uluru was most fully appreciated at sunset, when the sun moving down over the horizon created the most spectacular colour effects on the western wall.

She watched entranced as the immense rock with its wonderfully sculptured contours went through its phenomenal colour display. This was truly one of the great wonders of the natural world, she thought with fascination, unchanged in form for an awesome forty million years. Uluru dominated the great desert of Spinifex and sand that stretched as far as the eye could see.

They had watched the Rock at sunrise too, when the vast shadowy outline slowly became illuminated. Its sheer size, its strength and aura of great antiquity, held the watcher spellbound. When the sun first appeared on the horizon the crest began to glow a gentle pink that turned to rose. As the sun
rose further into the sky the entire dome turned golden-red, at which point Laura had not only felt like cheering but she had, to Evan's pleasure and amusement.

The wonderful bird-life that so characterized the Outback and offered its own fascination had suddenly taken wing, as if to salute it, and by noon the Rock had begun to blend with the fiery sand.

Driving back to their motel, some twenty-five kilometres away, it had appeared in the distance, Namitjira's larkspur.

But now, at sunset! The island-mountain went through its most magnificent displays, the colours deeper, richer—the glowing golden orange of a fire's embers, blazing terracotta-red, and then, as the sun began to sink, the Rock turned a soft velvety mauve, purple in the folds, the deep shadows at its base creating the illusion that the mighty monolith was floating above ground.

Evan, one arm around her shoulder, remarked quietly, “Easy to understand how the Rock is such a sacred ceremonial place for the aboriginals. The caves around the base are considered to be shrines.”

They had been privileged to examine the hundreds of rock paintings decorating the walls. The numerous Dreamtime legends associated with the Rock, most known only to the tribal people, commemorated the exploits of their totemic ancestors.

Laura, mindful that the tribal elders, the guardians of Uluru, didn't appreciate tourists climbing all over their holy place, had elected to view the mighty monolith from the ground.

“My father and I climbed it when I was sixteen,” Evan told her. “I'll probably never get to see the summit again, but the panorama from the top was worth all the effort. You can see sheer across the desert to the Musgrave, Mann and Petermann ranges to the south, the Gil ranges and the salt lake Amadeus to the north. All those minarets, cupolas and domes we can see in the distance, some thirty kilometres west, are the Olgas. The Pitjantjatjara named them Kata Tjuta—many heads. We'll visit them tomorrow.

“Some people think they're even more spectacular than Uluru. They turn on the same colour displays, but at certain times when the winds are howling through the ravines Kata Tjuta can be a very forbidding place. Tourists are forbidden to visit Kata Tjuta after dark anyway. It was the explorer Giles who said the Olgas were more wonderful and grotesque, the Rock more ancient and sublime. I think he got it right. The aboriginal people agree.

“Far off to the east is the majestic crown of Mount Connor, another island-mountain. The Rock is a formidable climb. In some places the angle of ascent is something like sixty degrees, and with the wind blowing!”

“Why do men like to climb everything?” she asked, giving him an impulsive hug because he was so very dear to her. “Why do they go off to the Poles, risking death, stand on the rim of active volcanos, peering down into the abyss. Women would find it absolutely terrifying, even insane.”

He smiled to himself. “No one has come up with a better answer than Mallory's comment when asked why he wanted to climb Mount Everest. ‘Because it's there.'”

“But Everest killed Mallory. I thought it terrible, the publication of photographs of his body when it was found seventy-five years later. It seemed like a violation. I was shocked.”

He shrugged. “Obviously the media was going for maximum impact, maximum drama, but that went over the line. Tired?” he asked solicitously.

“Not in the least.” She shook her head. “I'm having the most wonderful time, but I am hungry.”

“That's good.” He took in her lovely colour, wanting nothing but to make her happy. “The air's like wine. And a bit of exertion always makes one hungrier. The food's good at the restaurant.

“We'll come back one day and see the Rock under rain,” he promised her as they were driving away. “As you can imagine it doesn't happen all that often, but it's an unforgettable sight. The Rock turns a glittering metallic grey, and all the gullies on top fill with water, turning into rock pools.
Cascades of water rush down the ravines, forming beautiful white waterfalls. The green belt you see around the base of the Rock is the result of the big run-offs during the rains.”

“This is a magic place,” Laura said.

“It is.”

“I'm going to hold you to your promise,” Laura warned him, so happy for a moment she all but forgot the spectre of Colin.