Australian Outback Kings / The Cattle King's Mistress / The Playboy King's Wife / The Pleasure King's Bride (32 page)

He was probably right, given their intention of indulging themselves in a private orgy. Though it did leave things unresolved. On the other hand, how could the pregnancy question
be
resolved unless Janice had medical proof with her, and if she'd had that, she would undoubtedly have waved it under Tommy's nose.

A lie.

A spoiling lie.

Sam didn't want what she now had with Tommy spoiled. Not tonight. Not any night. Besides, it wouldn't be morally wrong to…to go back to bed with him. It wasn't as though Tommy was married to Janice or even attached to her.

Except…would she feel really good about it, with the phantom of Janice's pregnancy hovering in her mind?

Sam silently wrestled with this dilemna as the leave-taking ceremony proceeded, Nathan and Miranda circling around everyone, kissing, hugging, shaking hands. There was much merriment over comments and advice tossed at them and she smiled and laughed with everyone else, doing her best to keep up a happy, well-wishing facade.

Since the family were gathered at the exit, with Sam next to Tommy, they were the last on the farewell circuit. Nathan gave her a big-brotherly hug and whispered, “You've got Tommy lassoed. Hold him down, Sam.”

She blushed as he grinned knowingly at her before passing on to his brother. She didn't hear what he said to Tommy because Miranda was kissing her cheek and murmuring, “Thanks for being my friend, Sam. And good luck with Tommy. Hang in there.”

Slightly dazed by their personal comments, Sam watched them complete the full round with Elizabeth. The band struck up a jazzy rendition of “Here they go, here they go, here they go…” and the guests sang and applauded loudly as the bride and groom slipped out into the night…their wedding night.

People milled around in the marquee, continuing conversations, finishing drinks, collecting belongings. The exodus towards arranged accommodations didn't start until well after Nathan and Miranda would have reached the homestead. Sam and Tommy were continually caught up with various groups of guests who wanted to express their pleasure in the events of the day.

Sam smiled and chatted and agreed with everyone, conscious that Tommy was at his charming best in his responses. He gave no sign of being at all perturbed by the nasty contretemps with Janice. It seemed, as far as he was concerned, that page had been turned and the book was closed on it.

Hold him down…hang in there
… The advice kept echoing through her mind, pushing back the doubts and fears that had so tormented her. She had the man she loved at her side. It would be terribly self-defeating to indicate in any way that she didn't trust his word. It
had
been different with her tonight with so much feeling running between them. That was why he hadn't thought to use protection.

“Samantha…” It was her mother, glancing around the marquee worriedly as she asked, “…have you seen Greg anywhere?”

“He left earlier,” Tommy answered smoothly.

Her mother frowned. “He should have stayed to farewell Nathan and Miranda.”

“Tommy!” The loud hail distracted them.

“Here!” Tommy called, holding up a signalling arm as he turned to see who wanted him.

Jim Hoskins, the head park ranger from The Bungle Bungles, signalled back, then shoved his way through the guests who'd gathered close to the marquee exit, his haste transmitting a sense of urgency that spelled trouble. An instant tension held them still and silent for the few moments it took for him to reach them.

“An accident,” he stated quickly. “Jeep hit a tree next to the road to the resort. Doc Hawkins is there. He and his wife were in my vehicle. Sent me back for you. Says they'll have to be flown to hospital.”

“How many hurt?” Tommy rapped out.

“Two. Both unconscious. Doc suspects internal injuries and it must have happened some time ago. We didn't hear the crash. We just came upon them.”

“Who is it? Who's hurt?” Sam asked, knowing a lack of identification would spread anxious alarm through all the guests.

Jim had been concentrating on Tommy, but now he looked at her, his eyes pained. “It's your brother, Sam. It's Greg. And Janice Findlay.”

CHAPTER TWELVE

S
HOCK GRIPPED
S
AM'S
heart. She instantly fought it away. There was no time for shock, no time for anything but doing what had to be done. There was no ambulance service to call out here in the Kimberly cattle country. Whatever action was needed had to be organised here and now.

“Mum…” She addressed her sharply, jolting her out of shock. It was her firstborn son—Sam's closest brother—but that couldn't be dwelled on. “Would you find Dad and Pete? Get them together and…Jim…” She swung back to him. “…did you drive your vehicle down to the marquee?”

He nodded.

“You'll take my family to the accident site, won't you?”

“Sure!”

“And the Findlays,” Tommy instructed. “Ask my mother to break the news to them, Jim.”

“Right!” he agreed.

Tommy looked at Sam, his dark eyes intensely focused. “We'll need two planes. Nathan's, where the seats can be removed for cargo. And a six-seater.”

“Dad's. He parked it near the hangar. No problem. I'll go to the airstrip, get them ready.”

“You'll fly?”

“It's night flying. There's no one better.”

A flash of admiration. “No one. I'll collect the station foreman, organise a stretcher team and the table-top truck to transport them to the airstrip. We'll send men to take the seats out of Nathan's plane. I'll fly the injured in. You fly the families. Okay?”

“Okay.”

He squeezed her arm and was gone, striding off to take charge of the most immediate transportation operation. Jim was already making a beeline for Elizabeth. Sam swung her gaze back to check on her mother. She hadn't moved.

“Mum, can you manage? Do you want me to get Dad?”

Her glazed eyes clicked into focus, anguish pouring from them. “I'll do it. It's just…Greg…”

Sam's heart contracted again. She shut off a threatening whirl of emotion. “I know. But he needs us, Mum,” she said with urgent emphasis.

“Yes.” Her mother visibly pulled herself together. “I'll see you at the plane, Samantha. Your father left the keys in it.”

“He always does.”

“Go and do what you have to.”

She went, driving legs that felt like jelly into purposeful movement. Jared joined up with her as she left the marquee. “Tommy said to accompany you, lend whatever help you need,” he said succinctly.

Help and authority, Sam realised. “We need to commandeer one of the catering vans. Save running up the hill to other transport.”

One of the vans roared off as they raced around to the side of the marquee. “Tommy on his way. You two think alike,” Jared noted, just as a waiter met them with keys to the other van. “Thanks, mate. I'll drive, Sam.”

She veered towards the passenger side. Jared was already gunning the engine as she jumped in and slammed the door. The airstrip was on the other side of the homestead, beyond the machinery sheds. Jared wasted no time in getting them there.

“I'll get Dad's plane and taxi it out to the runway,” Sam instructed him. “If you'll supervise the seat removal in Nathan's…”

“Sure! Are you okay?”

“Yes,” she answered with unflinching determination.

And so she was, while ever action was required—cool, calm, efficient and effective, making no mistakes. The injured couple were carefully loaded into Nathan's plane. Tommy and Doc Hawkins took off with them. The families boarded Robert Connelly's, and Sam took off with them.

There was nothing she could do about Marta Findlay's hysterical weeping and wailing over her daughter's possible injuries except block it out as best she could. She was grateful for her own family's silent forebearance and support during the flight. They understood this was a waiting time they all had to get through.

The Kununurra airport and hospital had been alerted to deal with the emergency situation. Ambulances and other vehicles were waiting. Radio contact was constant. The moment Tommy's plane cleared the lit runway, Sam landed hers. Even so, the ambulances were already gone and Doc Hawkins with them by the time her passengers had alighted. Tommy was waiting to direct them to their transport.

Sam's father gripped his arm. “How are they?”

“Alive,” Tommy assured him.

Sam saw her mother sag with relief and didn't realise she was sagging herself. Tommy stepped past her parents and wrapped her in his arms. “It's okay. You did it,” he murmured, stroking her back comfortingly, injecting his own powerhouse of energy into her fading strength.

He directed both families to a waiting minibus which would take them straight to the hospital, then led Sam to his own personal vehicle, parked behind the KingAir office that handled the charter services. Her legs had gone to jelly again and she was grateful for the arm hooked around her waist, holding her up, keeping her going. She felt terribly tired, all of a sudden.

Tommy opened the passenger door and lifted her onto the seat. He even did the safety belt up for her. Strange…all these years of being so fiercely independent. Now Tommy was taking care of her and she didn't mind a bit. No pride involved. It was easy to simply accept he meant her well, easy to let him be the strong one, no competition at all.

He stroked her cheek tenderly before closing the door, his dark eyes locking briefly with hers, transmitting caring concern. “You can rest, Samantha. It's all up to others now.”

Yes, it was, she thought. Her part was over. Yet as the steely control she had held on her mind slid away, the feelings she had been holding at bay crowded in. It was all very well to be satisfied she had carried off the positive action needed
after
the accident. What about
before
…when she had done nothing to stop what should have been stopped?

Where did responsibility begin and end? She was older than Greg. But how could she have known he'd be stupid enough to drive a jeep when he was rolling drunk? Or had it been Janice behind the wheel?

“Who was driving?” she asked as Tommy settled on the seat beside her.

He looked at her, a sad gravity on his face. “I'd say Janice,” he answered quietly. “They were both thrown out of the jeep on impact, but Janice was on the driver's side.”

She shook her head at the foolish recklessness induced by too much alcohol. And Greg was no better, going along with the ride, letting a woman who wasn't fit to drive take control of a vehicle, especially an open jeep that offered no protection. It was totally reprehensible. Utter madness. And for what? The promise of sex on tap for the rest of the night?

How highly did men rate sex, she thought bitterly. Risking life and limb for it seemed crazy to her, but at Greg's level of intoxication, maybe he had felt invincible…having what he wanted virtually held out to him on a plate. Had it been like that with Tommy… Just going with the urge wherever it led, regardless of consequences?

She didn't realise her hands were tightly clenched in her lap until Tommy reached across and covered one warmly with his own. “Don't torment yourself with
if onlys,
” he gently advised. “More than likely, speaking to them would have made no difference to the course they chose. And
they
chose it, Samantha.”

“Don't ask me to respect that choice, Tommy,” she flashed at him. “Drinking and driving…”

“Is stupid, yes. But neither of us was there to stop it.”

“I should have spoken. Should have told Greg he was nothing but a mark to Janice.”

“How do you know she wasn't just a mark to him, Samantha? A one-night stand he relished having.”

The quiet but pointed argument churned up all her earlier bad feelings. “Was that what she was to you?”

He grimaced. “Is that relevant? Whatever my affair with Janice was based on…it's in the past.”

“
She
brought it up tonight.”

He stiffened. “You want to lay blame at my door? It's all my fault? Is that what you're thinking?”

“I don't know how well the shoe fits, Tommy. Only you know that,” she retorted, too worked up to monitor what she said.

“I see.” He removed his hand. The warmth died, replaced by chilling pride as he added, “You don't trust my word.”

He didn't wait for a reply. Grim-faced, he turned away, switched on the ignition, revved the engine, and accelerated out of the parking lot.

Sam closed her eyes, savagely berating herself for doing precisely what she'd told herself not to do. There could be no happy future with Tommy if she didn't trust him. Why was she plunging down this destructive path? How stupid could she get? He'd answered all the stuff about Janice. Raking over it again only drove this horrible wedge between them and she didn't want it there. She wanted
him
and how he'd been towards her a few minutes ago…kind, caring, supportive.

The dark tension in the Range Rover as they drove to the hospital tore at her nerves. Guilt added its painful claws. She should be thinking of Greg, willing her brother to pull through, not fighting with Tommy over blame or anything else. Besides, it wasn't his fault. He hadn't drunk himself silly. He hadn't got behind the wheel of that jeep. He hadn't smashed it into a tree.

He had, in fact, gone to try to sort things out with Greg and Janice, and they might very well have deliberately ignored his calling out to them. She had absolutely no reason to cast Tommy as the prime mover of this wretched string of events. What went on inside other people's minds was driven by many things. And her mind, at the present moment, was a mess.

At this early hour of the morning, the parking lot at the hospital was sparsely occupied. Tommy drove straight to a bay near the emergency entrance. The minibus which had come in ahead of them was empty, both families already inside the building, waiting for news. Sam's heart clenched at the prospect of that wait. Tommy was right. There was nothing more they could do, but that knowledge didn't allay the fear of what might be happening.