Down Outback Roads (22 page)

Banjo pranced beneath her.

‘It’s okay, buddy, we’ll be fine. The storm will pass soon.’ But the wind stole her words the instant they left her lips.

Ewan’s grin suddenly flashed. He returned the phone to his pocket. Relief erased the grooves carved beside his mouth and relaxed his rigid torso. He passed a hand over his face before speaking. It wasn’t necessary for Kree to catch the windblown fragments of his words to realise all was well. The cattle had been found.

The good news contained in Travis’s voicemail message brought Ewan’s world back into focus. The tunnel-vision driving him since he’d seen the gate’s padlock on the ground widened. He cast a quick eye skyward to examine the storm-black clouds. He’d aimed to reach a sheltered bluff on the other side of the ridge before the storm broke, but now that there was no need to continue on to the stock route, he’d seek cover elsewhere. Knowing Kree wouldn’t hear his words, he swung Rocket around and pointed to their left. She stopped rubbing Banjo’s neck, gathered her reins and followed. They should be able to head out of the hills to lower ground before the heavens opened.

But as he led them the quickest way along the gully and away from the storm, the sky ripped apart. Raindrops sliced at his skin and pelted his bare head. He turned up his collar to prevent the rain sluicing down his neck and looked across at Kree. Her green shirt was already dark with water and plastered to her like a second skin. Hunched in the saddle, she gave him a thumbs-up. He returned her gesture but didn’t look away.

Her strength and courage continued to humble him. He’d set a gruelling pace and she’d ridden without complaint, determination to find the cattle firming her small chin. He’d been reluctant for her to come as the ride would be long and he’d not wanted anything to happen to her, especially should he have to confront the cattle thieves. But now all threats had passed, he was glad she was with him. Thunder growled and a streak of jagged lightning slashed across the sky. Kree flinched.

He reined in Rocket and as Banjo halted beside his paddock-mate, Ewan reached over to cup Kree’s wet cheek. His thumb brushed the fine line of her jaw. In the wind and rain, words would be futile, but she wouldn’t miss the reassurance of his touch. She nodded. He lowered his hand and urged Rocket forward.

As the last of the scrub gave way to an open paddock, Ewan gave Rocket his head. Thunder clapped, and after a brief delay, lightning again flashed. Banjo and Rocket’s hooves pounded as the horses raced over familiar ground. The clump of trees Ewan was looking for loomed out of the rain. He slowed Rocket before manoeuvring open the steel gate. Kree rode through and he pointed to a blurred rectangular shape. Gate closed, Rocket and Banjo needed no encouragement to race towards the tin shed that provided shade from the summer sun when Ewan and the boys swum in the nearby waterhole.

At the shed’s entrance, Ewan slid from the water-slicked saddle and held Banjo’s reins while Kree dismounted. He then led the two horses beneath the shelter and hooked the reins over the pegs on the back wall. The rain on the thin, rusted roof almost deafened him. He stripped off Rocket’s saddle and saddlecloth, while Kree did the same with Banjo’s. He then
used the side of his hand as an impromptu sweat scraper to remove the excess water from the stock horse’s coat.

When he was done, Ewan helped Kree do the same for Banjo. Once they were finished, Ewan went to the corner of the shed and, stretching, felt along the top rafter until he located a tiny metal box containing a key. He took her hand and drew her towards the shed entrance. When she realised they were headed outside, she hesitated before her fingers tightened around his and she followed. Warmth from the knowledge that she trusted him blunted the storm’s chill, which was sucking the heat from his skin.

Lightning splintered the sky and Kree clutched his arm as he broke into a run. Together, they sprinted towards a larger rectangular shape behind the shed. Their boots thundered on the small wooden verandah of the ramshackle hut as they reached the shelter.

‘What is this place?’ Kree shouted above the rain as she released his arm. Her chest rose and fell from the pace of their quick dash, her shirt clinging to her curves.

Metal grated as Ewan inserted the large metal key into the front door and twisted the handle.

‘We call it the camping hut.’ He waved a hand towards the grey wall of rain surrounding them. ‘You can’t see it now, but there’s a waterhole over there where we fish and swim.’

Kree gazed towards where he pointed, tipped her head to the side and squeezed out the excess water from her ponytail. The water joined the pool around her wet boots. He’d need to get her warm as soon as possible. He pushed open the creaking door, stepped into the gloomy interior of the hut and headed for the kitchen cupboard for a lamp. He turned on the lantern and set it on a flat block of wood that doubled as both chair
and table. He busied himself setting a fire in the fireplace from the basket of kindling and wood he and the boys always replenished before they left.

‘Need a h … hand?’ Kree asked as she stood beside him, her arms wrapped around her middle.

He shook his head as he moved to a large wooden chest. He lifted the lid and pulled out a rolled-up sleeping bag and handed it to her.

‘Here, this is Braye’s, he left it behind last trip. It’s kid-sized, but it will be better than staying in your wet clothes. Your lips are already turning blue.’

He collected a folded-up, white, metal drying rack from behind the chest and, flicking it open, stood the rack in front of the soon-to-be-lit fire.

‘I thought Tish was crazy bringing this, but I’ve lost count of the wet clothes we’ve had to dry. Needless to say, they’re usually Braye’s.’

‘Why doesn’t that surprise m … me?’

The sleeping bag dropped from her trembling hands.

Ewan scooped it up, slid off the cover and draped the sleeping bag over his arm. Keeping his expression neutral, he then moved to unbutton her top shirt-button.

‘How about I help? Thanks to the boys, I’m an expert at buttons, and by the time you get them undone, you’ll be snap-frozen.’

She nodded, clenching her teeth to stop them chattering. Colour flared in her pale cheeks as his fingers brushed the icy skin at her throat.

He had no trouble unfastening the top two buttons, but when he reached the third button, nestled between her breasts, the tremble in his own fingers had little to do with the cold.
Soaked and bedraggled, she still took his breath away and stirred longings that could never be fulfilled.

Just when he thought he’d have to rip the third button off, it slipped through the buttonhole. His relief was short-lived. Her shirt parted to reveal the swell of her soft flesh above her white bra. A rivulet of water from where her ponytail rested on her shoulder slid over her collarbone and into the valley of her cleavage.

He moved to the fourth button, forcing his hands to co-operate. He had to get her shirt off and the fire started before he listened to the suggestions his hormones were making about other ways he could warm her. The fourth button slid free, followed by the last two. He took a quick step away and, avoiding her eyes, passed her the sleeping bag.

‘Thanks,’ she said, cold rendering her voice as shaky as his barely-there self-control.

‘Anytime.’

He swung away to light the fire. Behind him, he heard the jingle as she unfastened her belt buckle, the rasp of wet denim as her jeans slid down her thighs, and the rustle of the sleeping bag.

She hung her shirt, jeans and socks over the rack and then shuffled forward to stand in front of the growing flames. Her splayed hand held the sleeping bag in place just below her collarbones. She held out her other hand towards the fire, a hair-tie encircling her slim wrist. The vanilla scent of her now loose and damp hair filled the small hut.

Firelight flickered over her smooth shoulders, left bare except for two white bra straps. ‘Ewan, you’d better get out of your wet clothes, too. You must be as cold as I am.’

He placed another piece of wood on the fire and slowly straightened. The sleeping bag had dipped to reveal a shadow of cleavage. He fought to keep his gaze above her chin.

‘I’m fine. The fire will warm the room soon.’

‘If you’re so fine, how come you’re shaking?’

‘I’m not.’

She leaned towards him and placed her hand over his heart. ‘Yes, you are, and you’re as cold as an ice-box.’

He moved away from her touch at the same time as he flicked open his top shirt button. He’d get out of his shirt and end the discussion. Resolve had set her mouth and his control didn’t have the strength to do five rounds with her. He had to pick his battles. As long as he had his boots and jeans on, he was virtually dressed, anyway. He shrugged out of his shirt and draped it on the drying rack.

‘Hot drink?’ he asked on his way to the tiny kitchenette. ‘There’s black coffee, black tea or hot chocolate.’

‘Hot chocolate would be great, thanks.’

From the sink cupboard, he took out a single-burner gas stove. Handy for when there was no fire, the gas burner also provided a quick supply of boiled water. He placed the kettle on the blue flame and spooned hot chocolate into one mug and coffee into the other. Rain continued to drum on the hut roof as the storm showed no signs of abating. He clenched his teeth. It had to blow itself out soon and until it did his self-control had to hold.

Steaming cups in hand, he returned to the fire. Kree had pulled two blocks of wood close to the warmth and now sat on the left one.

‘That smells great,’ she said as she accepted the mug he handed her.

‘I’m not sure how it will taste without milk, but at least it’s hot.’

‘It’ll be fine.’ She watched him sit on the second block of wood. ‘So, the cattle are all right?’

‘Yes. They’re on their way to Travis’s farm. Tomorrow, if the weather clears, he’ll truck them to Marellen.’

‘What about the stock thieves? Where are they now?’

‘Glenalla lock-up with some explaining to do. Not that it’ll do them any good. Travis spotted their truck heading towards the stock route and alerted the local coppers, who arrived to see them unload the UltraBlacks.’

She took a tentative sip of her hot drink. ‘Busted.’

‘So busted.’

She smiled. Ewan put his coffee on the floor before his unsteady hands spilled it. Kree’s drying hair tumbled in soft brown waves around her face and shoulders. Her smiling lips were shiny and moist from her hot drink and would taste sweeter than any chocolate. Even though her hand kept the sleeping bag in place, it now barely skimmed the top of her full breasts.

He came to his feet. ‘I’ll check the horses.’

‘It’s still raining. You’ll get even more soaked.’

But he was already on his way to the door.

A soaking was just what he needed. It was the closest thing he’d get to a cold shower.

Ewan had to know how much he affected her. It wasn’t just the cold leaving her incoherent and shaking. As he’d unbuttoned her shirt, she could barely breathe, let alone speak. His expression might have been inscrutable but when the stubborn third button gave way, his control had cracked. If she hadn’t been so intent on reading his face, she’d have missed the sparks of need in his eyes. Sparks that disappeared as quickly as they had appeared.

Kree placed her mug on the floor and let go of the sleeping bag. It pooled around her lap. The fire’s warmth washed across her torso, bare except for her boring white bra. Silk and French lace hadn’t exactly been on her ‘to take’ list when she’d packed to search for Seth. She dragged her almost dry hair off her face and finger-brushed out the tangles. Even just a hairline fissure in Ewan’s control was good. Now she had to find a way to bust his self-control wide open, if she had any hope of giving life to what lay between them. She stared into the fireplace as though the clues to unlocking their relationship glowed in the embers.

A draft of cold wind raced over her back and fed the fire flames as the hut door flew open. She pulled the sleeping bag over her chest and turned as Ewan strode through the doorway. Water streamed over his bare chest and shoulders, highlighting every well-honed ridge and work-hardened contour. She’d seen him shirtless before, but the flicker of firelight on his golden skin ignited warmth deep within her she couldn’t blame on the fire’s heat. She took another sip of her hot chocolate.

He collected his shirt from the drying rack, and swiped it over his face and torso before sitting on the block of wood in front of the fireplace. He still hadn’t looked at her.

‘Banjo and Rocket okay?’

‘Both are good,’ he said as he took a gulp of his coffee and studied the fire.

From over the top of her mug, Kree considered his carved features. So much for levering open his control. His relief at the cattle being found had evaporated as quickly as the fire dried the moisture from his skin.

‘The storm showing any signs of easing?’ she asked, filling the silence growing between them. ‘It seems hell bent on shaking every window pane.’

‘Not yet, but it should soon.’

‘Just as well you knew this place was here. I don’t mind getting wet, but that lightning was a little too close.’

He finally looked at her. His eyes grave. ‘I’m sorry the lightning scared you. I should have found shelter sooner.’

‘You don’t need to apologise. I didn’t even think to pack waterproof jackets.’

Ewan again stared at the fire.

Kree finished her hot chocolate and set her mug on the floor beside her sleeping bag covered feet.

A large water droplet ran from his hair over his collarbone, leaving a trail of goosebumps. She caught the droplet with her fingertip before it had a chance to slide further.

‘You’re freezing. Here.’ She stood. ‘I’ll get dressed and you can wrap the sleeping bag around you.’

‘No, I’m fine.’ Ewan’s gentle fingers circled her wrist and tugged her back onto the wooden block. ‘Your clothes need longer to dry.’

A wave of goosebumps littered his skin. ‘Don’t be a princess, Ewan. Take the sleeping bag.’

He grinned. ‘I take it chatterbox Braye mentioned my conversation with Travis?’

‘Yes. I must admit I did have a chuckle, but there are worse things Travis could have called you to stop you being so precious about me coming.’

The amusement curving Ewan’s lips vanished. ‘I wasn’t being precious, I was just … worried about you.’

She hesitated, and then ran her palm over the curve of his muscled shoulder, hoping the warmth of her touch would transfer to him. ‘I was worried about you, too. That’s why I came.’

His eyes darkened but he didn’t draw away. She slowly eased her hand along the line of his shoulder until her hand settled into the curve of his neck. Her fingers splayed into his wet hair. She stilled. Was he going to move away? The only sound in the rain-shrouded hut was the pop of burning wood.

An indefinable expression sped across his face before his eyes closed and his head tilted. She took her time to massage the tension and chill from his rigid shoulder.

The sleeping bag rustled as she wriggled forward to reach the knot at the base of his neck. The heavy weight of her hair swung forward and brushed his chest.

A shudder rippled through him before his near-black eyes opened. He caught her hand and slowly drew it away from him. Tension etched his face in sharp and strained lines.

‘Kree, stop.’ He rasped as his cold lips kissed her warm knuckles. ‘My self-control can only hold for so long.’

She curled her fingers round his and gazed deep into his eyes. ‘Then stop fighting.’

‘I can’t.’ He lowered their hands to rest on the wet denim of his thigh, entwining his fingers with hers so she could no longer touch him.

‘Can’t or won’t?’ She wasn’t abandoning the fight to save what existed between them. She leaned forward and just before her mouth met his whispered, ‘You’re not the only one who wants what they shouldn’t.’

For a heady moment, his lips sought hers. Then he released her fingers and his hands grasped her shoulders. He carefully set her back on the wooden block. Longing burned in his eyes, but resolve firmed the line of his jaw.

‘This will only end in pain, for both of us.’ Even as he said the hoarse words, his eyes fastened on her mouth. ‘I can’t hurt you, Kree.’

‘Then don’t push me away. The decision to end what’s between us isn’t solely yours, it’s mine, too.’

Her chin angled. She wasn’t leaving this hut until he’d nullified his decision to walk away. She was done fighting fair. The stakes were too high. She’d come to the outback to find her brother and also found a good and decent man to … love. A man she wasn’t willing to now lose.

She released her grasp on the sleeping bag she held against her chest. With a silken whisper, the smooth material slithered to her waist.

‘And I want to give us a chance.’

She had no idea if Ewan heard her last words. When the sleeping bag dropped to reveal her curves cupped in nothing but her bra, it was as though the outside storm raged in his eyes. He groaned, his urgent mouth covering hers.

When they drew apart for air, Kree realised she’d somehow ended up in Ewan’s lap. Reluctant to loosen her grip around his neck, she leaned back in his arms to examine his face. Would he fly the white flag or stick to his decision to walk away?

But where minutes before tension had set his features, now only softness existed. The light in his grey eyes gave her hope he’d laid down his weapons.

‘I gather you no longer think it’s best if we go our separate ways?’

‘I wonder what gave you that idea?’

His lips twitched. ‘It couldn’t have been the slipping sleeping bag?’

‘Definitely not.’

‘I thought you were scared?’

‘I was. You make me feel so out of control and that frightened me. But I’m not scared anymore.’ She traced the shape of his mouth with a shy finger. ‘What I
am
scared of now is throwing away what we have. I’ve realised my life can’t always be about Seth.’

Caution eclipsed the smile in his eyes. She rested her hand on the side of his face.

‘Ewan, I’m flying by the seat of my control-freak pants. We don’t need to plan where we’re headed. All I ask is we take each day as it comes and see what happens.’

The tanned skin of his throat moved as he swallowed. ‘No promises?’

‘No promises to be broken, if that’s what you need to feel safe.’

The hand in the small of her bare back pressed her closer, before his mouth confirmed they had a deal.

Breathing ragged, he then lifted her in his arms as he stood. She laced her hands around his neck as though she’d never let go.

The corner of his mouth kicked into a smile. ‘It wasn’t just a drying rack Tish insisted we needed.’ With his foot Ewan pushed open a door to the left of the kitchen. Kree caught the gleam of firelight on brass as she made out the rectangular shape of a double cast-iron bed dwarfing the small room. ‘Tish still prefers glamping to camping and wanted a real bed to sleep in.’

Kree returned his widening smile.

Ewan walked through the narrow doorway to place Kree on the mattress. For a moment he stared down at her. In the dark intensity of his eyes she saw the same need and desperation that beat within her. She tangled her hands in his hair, pulled him down onto the bed and lost herself in the magic that only Ewan’s touch could bring.

‘So, Sleeping Beauty, who’s the princess now?’

Ewan’s husky voice flowed over her like the sweetest honey.
She smiled and stretched, making sure she lost none of the contact her naked body had against him.

‘Who could blame a girl for sleeping? You’re so warm …’ her hand took its time sliding over his chest as she leaned in closer to his mouth, ‘and so …’ and she let her kiss finish the rest of her sentence.

Breathless minutes later, Ewan smiled against her lips. ‘Do you hear that?’

‘No.’

‘Exactly. The rain has stopped.’ He dropped a kiss on her shoulder. ‘So, as much as I’d like to keep making you fly by the seat of your control-freak pants, we’d better get going if we want to be home by nightfall.’ He eased away and her senses mourned the loss of his muscled warmth. ‘The boys will be worried enough without having Tish there to tuck them into bed.’

Together they dressed and when the fire was extinguished and the hut tidied, Ewan smiled and held out his hand. She looped her fingers with his. As they walked through the door, it was like journeying to a different place. No longer was the hut draped in a cloak of wind and rain. Late-afternoon sun streamed through the clouds. Thunder rumbled in the far-off distance as the storm retreated. The lemon scent of the nearby pale-trunked gum tree carried on the now placid breeze. A black-and-white willy wagtail fluttered its wings in a puddle beside the hut steps.

After Ewan locked the front door, hands still linked, they headed to where the horses were sheltering. She slowed as she caught sight of the brilliant hues of a rainbow arcing above the rusted shed roof. She turned to follow the curve of rich colour and got a proper look at the dwelling they’d left. Her hand
slipped from Ewan’s as she stopped. The place where they’d sought cover was no camping hut. With its stone chimney and pitched roof, it was a cabin. Her breath caught.

It was the cabin in her mother’s drawing.