An Outback Affair/Runaway Wife/Outback Bridegroom/Outback Surrender/Home To Eden (64 page)

“Yes, we are. It sounds like you're at war with your environment, Karen. I know you weren't born to it. Perhaps you should have made a life for yourself in the city.”

“I want Drake. I've got to have him.”

“Drake will never leave Kooltar, Karen. I've benefited greatly from my time overseas, but love of my own country runs through my veins, too. Love of the land doesn't appear to have touched you, but it has me. Of course I'll see New York again. I have dear friends there. But I've made no immediate decision on my future. I've barely touched base here. In any case, my family is running Eden.”

Karen looked up quickly, her expression sympathetic but with a touch of triumph. “Nicole, everyone knows Joel is finding running Eden after your grandfather a huge challenge. He's certainly not in Sir Giles's league.”

“Who is?” Nicole retorted crisply. “Do you mind my asking, Karen, is this Callista keeping her hand in? Did she put you up to all this, or is that utterly preposterous?”

Karen flushed violently. “No need to be sarcastic. Callista knows how much I love Drake. I have to
know, Nicole. Forgive me if I offend.” She gave Nicole a humble glance. “Do you have any romantic interest in him? It would make it very hard for me if you did. I've put in so much effort I can't just walk away. You're quite right about Callista, of course. She doesn't like you. She thinks you and Drake would be a disaster.”

“Like the old disaster?”

Karen bit her lip. “It was horrendous, though, wasn't it? A scandal that won't go away.”

“Not that your knowledge of it would be good. You simply weren't around.”

“But the way your mother and Drake's uncle died goes a long way toward explaining Callista's point of view,” Karen persisted.

“She needs to blame someone. Me. I don't want to offend you, either, Karen, but you may have a few things wrong. I've known Drake all my life. We grew up together. Our families were once very close. If he were planning on getting married, I think he would have told me.”

Karen's attractive face turned stubborn. “It's a loving friendship. At least it has been to date. I've hung around longer than the others, at any rate. Having a family, an heir, will become increasingly important to Drake. I love children. I'd make a great wife and mother. I'm not getting any younger, either. The biological clock is ticking away.”

“Karen, I can't help you on this,” Nicole said. “You should ask Drake to confirm his feelings for you.” Not fantasize about becoming Mrs. Drake McClelland. It looked very much as if Callista was using Karen for her own ends, Nicole thought.

“You don't sound as if you think my chances are good.” There was a tiny flash of hostility in Karen's eyes.

“Drake is the one to talk to, not me,” Nicole repeated, making a determined move toward the door.

“He's very, very fond of me.” Karen rose to follow her.

“You'd better get cracking, then.”

They moved down the corridor, hung with lovely paintings. “Have you ever slept with Drake?” Karen asked boldly.

“I can't believe you're asking me that, Karen,” Nicole replied lightly.

“But you're here…” Karen looked at her with a worried smile.

“Drake and I have decided to patch up the old feud. It's only civilized.”

“Nothing more? Be honest.” The golden-brown eyes focused on Nicole expectantly. Heartwarming girl talk.

Nicole didn't oblige. “My private life is just that. Private.”

“I have offended you, haven't I?” Karen moaned.

“No, no!” Nicole shook her head. What she really meant was a firm
Yes, yes!

“You're not going to confront Callista about our conversation, are you?” Karen asked with a note of genuine alarm.

“Lord, no. My lips are sealed.”

Apparently greatly relieved, Karen grasped Nicole's hand, locking fingers like good friends. “I just don't believe how nice you are.”

 

A
NNIE HEADED OFF
another tongue-lashing by producing an excellent three-course meal. Even though there were only four of them at a table that could accommodate six times that number, they were eating in the hushed elegance of the homestead's formal dining room. Dining in such grand style obviously made Callista happy.

They started with a clear consommé, followed by wonderfully tender fillet of beef in a potato coat served with asparagus and a mustard-grain brown sauce. The dessert was chocolate and cherry mousse “domes” garnished with brandy snaps.

“That was a terrific meal, Annie,” Nicole complimented the housekeeper as she deftly removed plates. No fumbles this time, though she was sure Annie was fated to recount the story of “the time she saw a ghost” for years to come.

“We have our standards.” Callista gave a tiny delicate sniff, small hands fluttering like butterflies over the expanse of pristine white damask, fine china, sterling-silver cutlery, sparkling crystal wineglasses. Tonight she had looped her glossy dark hair into a thick crescent that curved around the nape of her neck, a style that suited her beautifully. In fact, it was so flattering to long thick hair Nicole thought she might try it herself. With the overhead chandelier on a dimmer and candelabra on the table lending their flattering golden light, Callista looked as lovely and exotic as a young Merle Oberon, a film star of yesteryear. For the umpteenth time Nicole wondered why Callista had never married, sitting there so small but regal, sipping her splendid dessert wine. She would ornament any
man's table, but all her love seemed to have been given to a brother who was gone.

That same sense of loss started to bear down on Nicole as though David McClelland was all around them. His spirit hadn't been put to rest, she thought dismally. He was still in the house, just as Corrinne was woven into the fabric of Eden.

Afterward they moved with their coffee into the drawing room, where Callista went immediately to the grand piano, a nine-foot Steinway, its lid already up.

“Oh, lovely! You're going to play for us!” Karen stated the obvious with delight, then curled into a wing chair, looking as though she wished for nothing more than to hear Callista play. “Callista is a marvelous pianist,” she said, injecting a lot of respect and flattery into her voice.

“I'm out of practice,” Callista demurred modestly, though Nicole sensed this was far from true.

“Come and sit beside me,” Drake said quietly, taking Nicole's hand. They both settled on the sofa.

Callista took her seat on the long ebony bench, the light burnishing her hair. “A little Schumann to start…”

It was a ritual from the past. The young Callista playing to her brother, David, who adored music. Who had loved her. Before Corrinne Cavanagh had changed her golden days to darkness.

Music poured into the room, Schumann, Brahms, Chopin, a very difficult Liszt prelude taken at a cracking pace without a slump. Callista became a funnel of energy and passion. Each note was crystal clear, perfectly precise, the big chords splendid. For a small woman Callista had a lot of power. The all-important
“singing tone,” as opposed to sheer technique, testified to a real gift. Had she not been rich, she could have earned a comfortable living as a pianist.

After twenty minutes or so, Karen was so lulled by the music she fell asleep in her comfortable chair, emitting the gentlest of snores. That didn't disturb Callista in the least. The woman seemed utterly oblivious to her audience now.

Drake very firmly regained Nicole's hand and without speaking, inclined his head toward the open French doors.

“Gosh, should we have walked away?” Nicole asked in a doubtful whisper when they were out beneath the glittering canopy of stars. Callista, like Joel, was always apt to explode.

“She won't notice for a good hour. I've seen all this a thousand times before. Callista loses herself when she plays. Sadly, not a lot of people get to hear her.”

“But she must get great pleasure out of her accomplishment. I don't paint because I need people to see my work. I paint because I have to. It must be like that with Callista. If only she could be a happier person.”

Drake sighed. “It comes down to choice, doesn't it? Some people elect to go through life unhappy, making their partners unhappy, as well. We do have a choice. Callista has chosen this way to live. I know my grandparents were very concerned for her mental health. She's very highly strung, rather like her Steinway. She toppled into some kind of a psychic void after David died, then made the decision it was fairly comfortable to stay there, a splendid martyr. My uncle
more than anyone used to love to hear her play. Sometimes I can't take it, the sound of the piano at night. I don't mean the beautiful music she makes, it's the…” Words seemed to fail him.

“I know.” Nicole gently squeezed his arm. “When you're trying to cure yourself, you don't want the wounds continually ripped open. There've been too many tears. Too much loss. Let's forget it for a while.” She paused for a moment to look up. The great constellation of the Southern Cross was right above their heads. To the desert tribes, the Southern Cross was the footmark of the great wedge-tailed eagle Waluwara. The Milky Way spread its diamond-encrusted glory across the center of the sky; a river with many Dreamtime legends connected to it.

“Such a beautiful night.” The dense heat of the day had gone. The desert sands cooled down quickly.

“Let's walk.” He linked his arm through hers, the fingers on her bare skin trailing flames. He had only to touch her and all her senses came alive.

I'm falling in love,
she thought.
And I can't stop it.
It was a kind of bliss tempered by too many serious concerns. Yet being with him was so exciting. It vibrated through her.

“What will they think when they realize we've gone?” she asked, acutely aware of the touch of his gently moving hand. It thrilled her right through to the bone.

His laugh was rueful. “Callista will go on like that until she gets it out of her system. It's much like going to a gym for a strenuous workout. Karen's had one glass too many.”

“Actually I did, too.” Her blood seemed full of sparkling bubbles. “Be gentle with her, Drake.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” He pulled her a little closer to his side.

“Don't play dumb. You know exactly what it means.” She waited a few beats before changing the subject. “Karen seems to think you have your eye on Eden.”

There was a ringing pause. “Would you like me to make you an offer?” His tone was suave.

“You couldn't afford it if you were one of the Rockefellers. We're a tenacious lot. Would you sell your inheritance?”

“Of course not. I hold it in trust for my children and my children's children. But I'm here working it, Nicole, not far away in another country. Kooltar is the flagship around which my life revolves.”

“Think you could ever love a woman that way?”

He glanced down at her. “How do you know I don't worship at
your
feet?” In the moon's radiance her skin bloomed, smooth and creamy like a water lily, the Aboriginal symbol of a star.

“You're not that sort of man,” she scoffed. “I can't see you in any submissive role. I can't see you acting as I imagine your poor uncle David did with my mother.”

“What do either of us know about that? We were too young.”

“Well, he did let Heath take her from him,” Nicole said, a shade wretchedly. “Whereas you, like Heath at least in that respect, are definitely a man of action.”

“I'd like to see a little action with you.” A faint
smile creased his face. “I took an awful risk kissing you. As it's turned out, it was instantly addictive.”

“You should have considered that before you started.”

“Some things you don't think about. You just do.”

“Here I was thinking it might have been part of the plan. Me, with Eden thrown in.”

“Is it so impossible?” His voice, deep and hypnotic, caught her like a hook.

She held her windblown hair with one hand. “You told me yourself you're a risk taker.”

“Maybe I've been blinded by your charms.”

“I don't think so. You're very clever.”

He pushed back a long curving frond that blocked their path. “I've been waiting all my life for a woman to appreciate my mind.”

“Brains and brawn. You have both.”

“Just as well. I'd be no good at my job.” He halted for a moment as a bat soared out of a tree, its silhouette eerie against the moon.

“I don't think the nightmare is over, Drake. I wish I could believe it, but I can't.”

“Oh, Nic!” He took hold of her shoulders. “Are you ever going to leave this alone?”

She shivered. “I want to, but there's a voice inside me telling me there's more. You know as well as I do there are too many loose ends. They need to be tied up.”

His fingers tightened, a delectable pain. “I don't want to see you put yourself in a position of danger. If there's someone still out there, your stirring things up could make you the next victim.”

She gave a shaky laugh. “But I have to learn who
that someone is so that I can take revenge. My own revenge.”

“Revenge is bad.”

“I'm sorry. That's the way I am. If someone killed my mother, I want them brought to justice. You weren't there, Drake. Granddad and I found them.” She turned to move on. “It's a strange thing to be asking you, but do you think you could find me a good overseer for Eden? Joel needs help.”

“You're seriously contemplating putting someone above him?”

“I can be ruthless when the situation demands. The job is too big for Joel.”

“The consequence would be crushing. Joel has always battled a low self-image. Even as a boy.”

She felt a flare of anger. “Are you implying that Granddad was forever finding fault with him?”