Authors: Margaret Tanner
Fiona McKenzie was an only child whose father's property connected with his on one boundary. Old Dan wanted a match. With both properties joined together they would have more than sixty thousand acres. Could a timid, mousy little thing like her give him the strong healthy sons he craved? Hadn't he heard somewhere she suffered from a chest weakness? A pity, with all those acres involved, but a delicate wife would never do.
The only other candidate was Sophia Bothroyd. A bit on the petulant side, but attractive enough to appeal to his manhood. She looked strong and healthy, and with young Bothroyd dead, was sole heir to her father's property. Twenty thousand acres only a few miles away proved a tempting proposition. Yes, he would start courting her in earnest now. Sophia would make him a suitable wife.
“What the…” His horse reared as a black dog bounded out of the bush. With a muffled curse he steadied the horse. Old man Lindsay's mongrel, bloody menace, someone should have put a bullet in him years ago.
“Touser, Touser. Wait for me, Touser.” A small boy hurtled out of the bush and skidded to a halt in front of the horse. He wrapped his arms around the dog's neck and received a lick from the animal's pink tongue.
“Did my dog frighten you, mister? He doesn't bite unless he doesn't like you, then he might tear you to bits.”
Adam grinned. The child spoke with an English accent. His skin was fair, his sky blue eyes alive with excitement, and his hair gleamed like ripe wheat in the sun.
“What's your name, boy?” He did not bother dismounting, although he kept the horse steady.
“Jamie. I'm setting a trap for Adam Munro. Touser’s going to help me attack him.”
“You want to attack Adam Munro? Why?” What the hell was going on here? He gave a snort of annoyance.
“I hate him. Tommy says he's a land hungry old des, des, something.”
“Despot.” Fury raged through him like a rampaging bull. “So, Tommy thinks Adam Munro is a land hungry old despot?”
He drew in a couple of deep breaths to get his temper under control. “You live with Tommy, do you?”
“Yes.” Wide innocent eyes stared up at him. “With David, too.”
“And your parents?” This could be a chance to glean some useful information.
“My mother and father are dead, there's just Tommy and David.” His small brow puckered, his lips pursing in concentration. “Tommy looks after me most. I like David, he used to be a soldier before his leg got hurt, but I love Tommy better than anyone. Tommy can do anything.”
For some inexplicable reason, Adam detested Tommy.
“Tommy said we could get rich here. Warrior is going to make us a lot of money, so we can buy our own mares.”
Adam almost laughed out loud. Tommy's plans were unraveling faster than a speeding bullet. No man would dare have his mares served by the Lindsay stallion now.
“Can you make bread and cake, mister?”
What an odd question for a youngster to ask. “No.”
“Tommy makes the best cakes in the whole world.” He spread his arms out to emphasize the point, causing the dog to jump up and send him sprawling in the dirt. Adam watched as he climbed to his feet and dusted himself down.
“Where's your hat, boy?” The ferocious Australian sun would soon fry his soft English complexion.
“I lost it somewhere.” He frowned. “Can you help me find it? Tommy will get mad if I go home without it.”
Adam scowled. This Tommy character would probably take his belt to the child, sounded just the type. He tethered his horse to a bush before following the boy who raced on ahead. Feeling somewhat ridiculous, he picked his way through the scrub following a track of sorts. It took them twenty minutes or more to retrieve the hat from where it hung on a bush then return to the horse.
“I'm thirsty.” The boy flopped down on a log. The dog also lay down with his pink tongue lolling.
Adam went over to his horse, unhitched his canteen and brought it over. The child appeared distressed, his face red and damp with perspiration.
“You shouldn't run around in the sun until you get used to the climate.” Uncapping the lid, he held the canteen for the child who drank greedily.
“What about Touser? He's thirsty too.”
Wondering why he bothered, he leaned down and filled his cupped hand with water. The dog lapped it up and he refilled his hand several times before the animal quenched his thirst. Finally, he put the canteen to his own lips.
“Well, I better be off.” He straightened up, frowning as the boy sat there with his head drooping. The child looked exhausted. What kind of people were these Lindsays, allowing a youngster to roam around on his own in a strange country?
“Would you like me to take you home?” What a damn nuisance. He wanted to be on his way, but couldn’t leave a small child to walk a mile or more on his own in this heat.
Jamie struggled to his feet and stood, looking hesitant.
“Come on.” He lifted the boy into the saddle, swung up behind him, and they set off. The child slumped against his chest, and as Adam glanced down at the golden head, he felt a strange softening towards the little fellow. Emotion welled up in his chest and a longing, so great it almost overwhelmed him, caused his eyes to moisten. He had been about the same age as this boy when his mother died.
He could still remember her softness, her tenderness. The lullabies she sung to him each night. She always sprinkled lavender water on her handkerchief. For months after she died he had hidden a handkerchief under his pillow when he went to sleep each night, so he might smell the perfume and feel her presence.
Hell, stop acting like a maudlin idiot.
Glancing over one shoulder he saw the faithful Touser trotting along after them.
“I like you.” A grubby little hand patted his arm. “You can be my friend. Tommy says everyone needs friends.”
Tommy again. He bit back an oath, turning his thoughts instead to meeting him. What a pleasure it would be to ram his fist right down Tommy Lindsay's throat. It would take little provocation for him to do so.
“You can have some tea at our place.”
“I don't think Tommy would serve me anything.”
Except rat poison
.
“Tommy will cook you something if I ask. You're my friend. In England Tommy had lots of friends.”
“I'm Adam Munro.”
The child jerked upright. “Tommy said…”
“You've already told me what Tommy thinks of me.” Damn Tommy, he could become fond of this little fellow, given half a chance.
Jamie’s body stiffened momentarily, before relaxing again. He patted Adam’s hand. “I still like you. You aren’t bad, are you?”
“No, I’m not bad.”
Adam saw smoke curling from the chimney first. As they broke out of the trees, the homestead came into view, nestled against heavily timbered mountains. For a moment he debated about setting the boy down here, but when a figure appeared on the verandah, curiosity got the better of him. When they got closer, he realized the slim young man was as fair as Jamie.
“David, David,” Jamie yelled. “Come on, Mr. Munro, hurry up.”
Adam dismounted to lift the boy down. He got a surprise when the child grabbed his hand to urge him forward.
David Lindsay nodded and Adam did likewise. “Where have you been, Jamie?”
“I went for a walk with Touser.” The dog announced his presence with a couple of joyous barks.
“Thank you for bringing him home, I'm David Lindsay.”
The young man spoke with an upper class English accent. He had the same blond hair and blue eyes as Jamie, but his face looked white and sick. He dragged his leg when he walked. Adam could not explain it even to himself, but he felt a sudden distaste for his actions in town just a short time ago. They were nothing short of disgraceful, but he had starving stock to consider.
“I'm Adam Munro.”
David Lindsay went rigid with shock. “You're Adam Munro? We assumed you were, er, older.”
“Land hungry old despot, were Tommy's words I believe.” He watched with satisfaction as an embarrassed red flush stained the young Englishman's cheeks, then receded, leaving him deathly pale.
“Would you care to come inside? The least we can do is offer you a drink.”
Adam hesitated, but with Jamie tugging at his hand convinced himself it was easier to accept. Once inside the parlor he glanced around with interest. He had only been inside the homestead on a couple of occasions. Originally it had just been a bark hut, built by his father and grandfather when they first settled the area. With the mere stroke of a pen some corrupt government official handed this prime land over to old man Lindsay. No compensation for all the blood, sweat and tears the Munro’s expended on the place. His grandfather and two uncles died trying to tame what had once been a savage wilderness. The injustice of it all left a bitter taste in his mouth.
“Have a seat. Jamie, go out back and tell Tommy we have…” David hesitated, “…a guest.”
Jamie shot off, yelling at the top of his voice.
“He's a fine boy, Lindsay.”
“Yes, thanks to Tommy. I didn't have much to do with his upbringing, spent a lot of time away from home.”
“Tommy won't take his belt to the boy will he? I mean, he probably didn't mean to wander off.”
“No, Tommy won't take a belt to him.”
Adam felt a twinge of annoyance when David Lindsay grinned. What was wrong with the man? “Look here, Lindsay, I'd like to buy you out. This place isn't necessary to you. I'd give you a fair price. You could go back to England or buy another more suitable property.”
“Save your breath, we are not selling, Mr. Munro,” interrupted a feminine voice.
He swiveled his head and was confronted by a slim young woman with blazing blue eyes and the same fair hair as the other two. A sudden surge of sizzling heat singed every nerve ending. He clamped his lips together to stop a gasp of admiration. Belatedly, he scrambled to his feet.
“I…I don't think I've had the pleasure,” was the best he could come up with.
“Tommy, I'm hungry,” Jamie said.
The words slammed into his stomach with the ferocity of a rogue bull. “You're Tommy?”
“Yes, Munro, this is Tommy. Do you still think she might take a belt to the young fellow?” Amusement lurked in David Lindsay's voice now.
“What kind of name is Tommy for a woman?” He fought to recover his wits. “I assumed she was a man.”
“Thomasina Victoria Lindsay.”
Her exaggerated curtsy set his teeth on edge, or he told himself it did. He was still standing and she barely reached his shoulder, could not be more than five feet two inches tall. A good puff of wind would blow her over.
Her milky white skin had the smoothness of fine porcelain. What would it be like to feel her soft whiteness pressed up against his body? He prayed for a tornado to scoop her up and blow her back to England.
“Miss Lindsay, won't you consider selling this place to me?” He fought to control the tenor of his voice and school his features, so none of his inner turmoil would show. No woman had ever affected him like this one. She scared the hell out of him.
“You've got forty thousand acres, isn't that enough?
“This place is right in the middle of my property.” He struggled to keep his temper in check. “You have a creek running through here and a water hole I need for my stock. This is your last chance. Sell to me now, or I'll see you bankrupt.”