Morgan's Law (15 page)

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Authors: Karly Lane

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BOOK: Morgan's Law
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He lowered his head towards her and Sarah bit down on the flurry of apprehension this action caused. She caught the scent of diesel and sweat, a combination that would have made her turn up her nose in distaste on anyone else, but on Adam it smelled earthy and—safe. The look in his eye, though, was anything but. She saw frustration and anger and then, a little deeper, something that made her knees go weak—desire simmered just beneath the surface and Sarah felt its instant magnetic pull.

The kiss when it came was not soft and probing. It was demanding, possessive and it seared her to the soles of her feet. There was nothing gentle about their embrace; it was an explosion of pent-up emotions that had only needed a tiny spark to ignite, and Sarah gave as good as she got.

The door handle of Tash's door dug into the small of her back but she barely felt it. Adam pressed against her, imprinting his body on hers. His large hands moved from her waist to frame her face, holding her head steady as his kiss lost some of its anger and a deeper, hungrier need took its place.

In the back of her mind it occurred to Sarah that they were making out against her car like a pair of horny teenagers, but she was too far gone to give a damn. Never before had she been kissed like this. If the man could render her a basket case with a kiss, anything else would surely have to be fatal, wouldn't it?

The sound of an approaching car brought Sarah back to her senses and she pulled her head back, breathing heavily as she tried to avoid that knowing look in Adam's eyes. Eventually he turned to look at the approaching vehicle and gave a soft curse. Sarah followed his gaze with a touch of apprehension.

She didn't recognise the vehicle. It wasn't until the white ute pulled up and a petite blonde emerged that Sarah silently echoed Adam's curse.

‘Well, well, well, this sure looks cosy,' said Kelly Morgan as she sauntered across towards them.

Sarah squirmed against Adam in an attempt to push him away. He straightened and took a slight step back, and she took the opportunity to slide out of his embrace.

‘What brings you out here, Kelly?' said Adam, sounding none too pleased by the interruption.

‘Since when did I need an invitation to drop by for a visit?' she drawled. ‘Silly me for thinking you'd be pining for me while I was away.'

‘Knock it off, Kelly,' Adam warned.

‘What? Oh, don't be so cranky. I wanted to come by and say hi before I went back to uni.'

Sarah's hand fumbled against the door of the car as she tried to locate the handle. Oh my God, it was true. ‘I'll leave you to it then.'

‘You don't have to go, Sarah. We still have some talking to do,' said Adam.

‘Oh? Is that what you two were doing when I pulled up?' said Kelly with a smirk.

Sarah swallowed nervously as she tried to gather her composure, but the telltale flush that she felt seeping across her face wasn't helping her situation any. Who was she to judge if the guy had a thing for younger women? ‘Don't let me hold up your reunion.'

‘Sarah—it's not like that. Would you just wait a minute?' Adam held the door open as she struggled to shut it on him.

‘You have a guest to entertain.' She glanced across at Kelly, who was watching them with undisguised amusement. ‘Don't let me hold you up.'

Adam's jaw clenched as he stared down at her; no doubt he was gauging whether or not now was the time to press the issue—apparently he decided it wasn't because he slowly released his grip on the door and took a step back from the car.

She felt his flinty gaze on her but kept looking straight ahead as she started the ignition and drove off. She only had herself to blame—she'd let lust get in the way of her better judgement and now she felt like an idiot. She groaned aloud: of all the people to have witnessed her moment of weakness, it had to be Kelly bloody Morgan! ‘Idiot!' she berated herself.

It really was hard to believe that in another life people actually trusted her with millions of dollars. It was a good thing none of them could see her blundering around and making a fool of herself as she turned this poor town upside down trying to figure out her screwed-up family history. What had happened to her? It was as if the Sarah she thought she was had disappeared somewhere along the way to Negallan.

Thirteen

Sarah returned the car to its shed and dropped the keys back on Tash's desk, then wearily climbed the stairs to her room. She was certain she could rule out Tash as the prankster, and somehow she didn't think Edith would lower herself to dream up a practical joke. So that only left Kelly. It was exactly the juvenile kind of stunt she'd pull just for a bit of personal entertainment, and then turn up to really rub it in.

It wasn't funny. The knowledge that someone had pulled strings and made her respond was more than a little unsettling.

Shaking off the sinister thoughts, she chastised herself for being so melodramatic. It was just a stupid joke, but she'd be a lot more cautious from now on. Melodramatic or not, maybe Tiny was right—maybe you couldn't take anyone at face value, even around here.

As Sarah walked into the bar, she sensed a strange feeling of apprehension in the air. The usual lively chatter had been replaced with low murmurs, and the railway employees were gathered around a group of tables in the corner looking sombre.

Catching Tiny's eye, Sarah waved. His grave nod in reply confirmed something was definitely wrong.

As Tash came towards her, Sarah searched her friend's drawn features. ‘What's happened?' she asked.

‘The railway's pulling out of town.'

Before she'd seen how vital the extra money flowing into the small community was, Sarah might have shrugged and said, ‘So?', but now she knew how significant and devastating it would be.

The railway workers looked miserable. Having got to know them a little over the last few days, Sarah sensed they would feel as though they were caught in the middle. They just went where they were told, when they were told, but she could see that they felt bad to be taking their business out of this little community and moving on.

‘Will they be back?' Sarah asked.

‘Doubt it,' said Tash. ‘That's twelve rooms and twelve meals we'll lose. You'll be our only paying guest.'

Poor Tash. Sarah knew how much work she'd put into the hotel and how important the railway income had been in keeping the place going. Very few tourists stopped here. It wasn't on any of the main highways that ran through the State—passing traffic was not something they could count on here.

The locals who sat and talked seemed deflated, almost as though they'd given up, and their faces stirred something deep inside Sarah. ‘Well, we'll just have to think of something else. You can't give up without a fight.'

Tash raised a dubious eyebrow at her. ‘And what would you suggest we do? Hold the railway to ransom?'

‘I'm not talking about the railway. This community needs something more stable, an industry that can be built on in the long term, not something temporary like the railway crews.'

‘And what would you suggest?' The slow drawl came from behind her and instantly Sarah's hackles rose. Trent Morgan had walked in when she wasn't looking and now stood, thumbs hooked in his belt loops, hat tipped back in a cocky manner, ready for a showdown.

‘Trent—' Tash began.

‘No, Tash. I'd like to know what this city
expert
has to offer. Since we obviously have no idea how to save ourselves, I'd like to hear her big plan for us.'

‘I don't have a plan,' said Sarah. ‘I'm just saying that if you give up and think it's over, then it will be.'

‘Hear that, everyone?' said Trent. ‘All we have to do is not give up. Wow, thanks for enlightening us. I don't know how we'd have coped without that little pearl of wisdom.'

‘That's enough, Trent,' Tash tried again.

‘I wasn't being condescending,' said Sarah. ‘This railway thing was only ever going to be a short-term fix. Look how far you've come with just that small injection of cash, and think how well this community could do if you had a strong industry again.'

‘We have no control over crop prices, or the market, or the weather for that matter,' a farmer called out from across the room.

‘No, and I'm not claiming to know anything about farming. I don't have the answers, but I do have an idea.'

‘This should be good,' said Trent and chuckled.

‘I've heard that cotton used to be the main industry here, but once the gin shut down it became too expensive to freight out of town. What if the gin reopened? What if you started growing cotton again?'

‘And how do you suggest we do that?' jeered Trent. ‘We don't have any corporations lining up and begging to buy the gin.'

Sarah ignored the mockery in his voice. ‘Start your own farmer's co-op. The town could buy the gin and get it up and running again. You could handle everything from growing to processing without the middle man. You'd be creating jobs again and the profits could be put back into the community.'

‘Why didn't we think of that!' Trent slapped his palm against his forehead, his dramatics sparking a few chuckles around the room. ‘Do you really think we're all a bunch of morons out here? What, just because we live out here we don't have a brain in our head or something?'

‘Well, I wouldn't lump everyone in the same boat as you.'

A few more chuckles followed her retort, but Trent's gaze narrowed dangerously. ‘They already tried to start a co-op, Einstein, but it didn't work.'

‘How was she supposed to know that, Trent?' Tash scowled at him, before turning her gaze back to Sarah. ‘When it first closed, a small group of local farmers tried to do exactly what you suggested, but it was too big a job for them.'

Sarah was feeling a little embarrassed by her big announcement. She didn't think these people were stupid— she just thought she'd come up with a great way of helping them. But Tash's words caught her attention again and she shook her head slightly. ‘I didn't mean to assume you hadn't done everything you could before now, but I think that's where the first attempt failed.'

She heard a small grumble of discontent and hurried to explain. ‘They tried to fix it with a
small
group.' Sarah explained. ‘That won't work with something on this scale. You need to involve the whole community.' As she spoke, her enthusiasm began to reassert itself. ‘You have to try again, but with
everyone
behind it, not just a few.'

‘That would take money,' someone called out.

‘A lot of money,' a farmer nearby added.

‘Yes. But with everyone working together, you have the experience and the knowhow to make it work. It seems a shame to waste all that knowledge.'

‘That's it? That's your big idea to save the town?' Trent scoffed.

‘Well, I don't see you coming up with any ideas—bit sad when the only one making suggestions is someone who's been here barely a week.'

‘That's right. Someone who doesn't even
belong
here. So why she thinks she can butt in and make any suggestions is beyond me.'

‘Then get off your bum and do something yourself if you have a better idea. I was only trying to help,' Sarah snapped.

‘You know, I still have my cotton stripper and harvester— it's money sitting out there going to waste,' spoke up a farmer from the bar. ‘My place was originally set up for cotton and I don't mind sayin' I was a better cotton grower than a cattleman. I'm sick of mending bloody fences every time that rogue bull I bought off
you
, Morgan, keeps running through them.'

There were chuckles and murmurs of agreement all around and the low hum of conversation began to fill the room. Sarah exchanged a glance with Tash and shared a tentative smile. The only one who wasn't smiling was Trent, scowling as he finished his drink alone at the bar.

Returning to her room later, Sarah checked her mobile and saw that she'd missed a call. Her thumb hesitated over the call button as she read the name on the screen. She'd been putting this off since the day she walked out on Giles; she hadn't been ready to deal with it, but now she felt stronger and more prepared.

‘Sarah—thank God! Where are you? Do you have any idea how frantic I've been?'

‘I find that hard to believe—last time I saw you, you had your tongue down another woman's throat . . . in my bed.'

‘It's not what it looked like—'

‘Seriously? You're going to stick with that line? Because I'm pretty sure there's no way you can talk your way out of this one.'

‘What I meant was she didn't mean anything . . .'

‘And now neither do you. Thank you for showing me the type of jerk you are before I wasted any more time on you.'

‘Sarah, be reasonable.'

‘I thought, under the circumstances, I was more than reasonable. Get your stuff out of my flat before I get back or I'll have it thrown out.'

‘You haven't seriously gone back to Australia over some harebrained scheme your grandmother thought up?'

‘Where I am and what I do is no longer your concern.

I want you to understand that we are over and I don't want anything else to do with you. Got it?'

‘I hope you know what you're doing.'

Sarah angrily disconnected the call. The bloody cheek of the man! He had forfeited any right to comment on her life. She might not know exactly what she was doing but she knew she'd made the right decision ditching Giles.

She sat down on the end of her bed and found herself staring across at the table where the urn sat. She tilted her head slightly and frowned. Strange, she could have sworn that this morning it was on the other side of the small table. She remembered picking up her watch and bracelet from the table that morning when she got dressed. With a sinking sensation, she dropped to her knees on the floor and dragged out her laptop bag from under the table— thank goodness her computer was still safely inside.

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