Hidden Fire (20 page)

Her gut churned as guilt ate at her. Somehow, she had to put this right, without placing her parents, and Morgan, in any more danger.

“Hey, Missy Gili, come over here and we'll teach you all about noodling.”

Charlie's voice cut through Gili's thoughts. Fixing a smile on her face, she dropped to her knees beside him. “Okay, Charlie, show me how to find an opal.”

Charlie took a pick, the handle no more than a foot long, and chipped away at the hard-packed soil. “Different ways to mine around here. Used to be all shafts, but the government don't allow a man to do that any longer. So the prospectors started doing open-cut mines. Kinda like scraping the soil from the top of the land and digging down until they found what they wanted. Then the soil was usually dumped in a puddler.”

“Which is?” Gili enquired, intrigued by the history lesson.

“It's like a big drum with mesh on the sides. A motor rotates the drum as water is added, turning the dirt into slush. And what's left when all the soil is washed away, Piri?” He cut a glance across to his grandson.

“Rocks and stones,” Piri called out as he dug into the soil with his bare hands.

“And what else? Anyone know?” Morgan interrupted, squatting down on the other side of Gili.

One of the other children jumped up and down on the spot, waving her hand in the air. “I know, I know. The opal nobbies.”

“That's right.” Charlie scooped the loose soil into a sieve and started shaking it until the soil fell through and the rocks and other hard matter remained. “What we're doing here today is going over the remains left by other miners. We can't do any puddling because we don't want to waste water, but if you're lucky, you'll find some traces of color in these dirt heaps.”

He ran his fingers through the small chunks of rock in the sieve, picking up a dark, rounded stone that he handed to Gili. “See that? An opal nobby. That's an opal formed naturally in the rock, rather than part of an opal seam.”

Morgan took the stone from her and balanced it on another, larger rock. He took his pick and tapped at it until the nobby split in two. Then he handed the two halves back to her, a grin on his face. “Your opal, Ma'am.”

Vivid blue with flashes of green, bordered by solid black, filled the center of the stone. The harsh sunlight enhanced the depth of color in the opal. Gili was entranced. The bright hues called to her, but not as much as the kaleidoscope of colors that had appeared to her within the mine.

“You have a go, Missy Gili. Who knows what you might find.” Charlie handed her the sieve and a small shovel.

Gili scooped the loose soil up and dumped it in the sieve. Using both hands, she tilted it on one side and then the other, trying to make the fine soil drop through the wire mesh. All she managed to do was to dump half the contents back on the ground.

Morgan laughed and scooted in behind her. He spread his legs either side so Gili sat cradled in the juncture of his thighs. Reaching his arms around her, he covered her hands with his.

“Don't tilt it,” he said. “Just rock it from side to side. Little shakes.”

He showed her how to do it and then took his hands away, but remained where he was. “Now you try.”

Gili fought to concentrate, but all she could think about was the warmth of Morgan's body seeping into hers. His muscled thighs and the hard ridge of flesh nestled against her backside. Hormones went into a meltdown and fire spiked through her veins.

She gave a startled gasp at how quickly he'd turned her on. She wanted to face him. Wrap her arms about his neck and twine her legs about his hips. She hungered to rip their clothes off so there was nothing separating them.

She gulped.
Concentrate, Gili, concentrate
. She had to remind herself there were children present. “Ah, okay, let's try this again.”

Shaking the sieve, she watched as the soil disappeared, exposing the stones and pebbles. She couldn't see one speck of color amid the browns and near-blacks of the ironstone and sandstone. She held the pan out so Morgan could check it out.

He trailed one long finger through the offering. “Sorry, nothing there. Have another shot. Try for some of the soil higher up.”

Gili grabbed the pick and reach above her head, chipping away at the mound of mullock. The recent rains had compacted the earth and it took more effort than she'd thought it would.

The first of the dirt tumbled down and then the pick dug in, refusing to give way to her tug. She yanked on it and the clump of earth came free with a rush. She lurched backwards, coming to a stop against Morgan's firm chest. The soil cascaded down, spraying both Gili and Morgan, and Charlie on the other side.

“Hey, Missy Gili, my skin's already brown enough,” Charlie quipped, a grin flashing across his face. “Don't need no more.”

Gili burst out laughing as Charlie brushed the dirt from his face and hair. “Sorry.”

She flicked a grin over her shoulder at Morgan. “Good thing I was already sitting or I would have ended up on my fanny in the dust.”

There was dead silence for an instant. Then Charlie and Morgan roared with laughter. Narri giggled behind her hand. Even the children were covering their faces and sniggering.

“Ooh, Missy Gili, you baad,” Narri said.

“Miss said a rude word,” Jen lisped.

“I did?”

Morgan draped his arms over her shoulders and pressed his cheek against hers. “Here's a short lesson in Australian slang. I know in the States that fanny is your rear end, right?”

Gili nodded, still trying to work out what she's said wrong.

“Well, over here in Australia, use the word fanny and you're not referring to your butt. Think about, ah, something else…um, same general location, but a little more towards the front of the body.”

It took a minute for that to filter through Gili's brain. When it did, she gasped and slapped a hand over her mouth. She twisted to stare at Morgan, a flush of heat climbing her face. “You mean—”

He nodded, the grin still fixed to his face. “Have to be careful with the local lingo here.”

“Oh, dear.”

Charlie reached across and patted her hand. “It's okay. I won't wash your mouth out this time.”

He turned back to the children. “Now come on, kids, who's gonna find the next opal?”

Gili's faux pas forgotten, the children set about fossicking for any precious traces of opal. Gili joined in, but she couldn't focus on the task. All she could think about was the feel of Morgan's hands on her hips. His heat reaching out to her. The intoxicating scent of man and spicy aftershave. And constantly, on the fringes of her mind, the worry about Whitey and Jeremy.

Lunchtime came and Gili joined the children in the center of the village. The women set to work cooking hamburgers and filling rolls with salad and the cooked patties. Gili had finished her burger and was wiping her hands on a paper towel when Morgan appeared by her side.

“Ready for a walk to work off lunch?” He passed her a bottle of water and took her hand, guiding her away from the campsite.

“What about the kids?”

“The parents are supervising them for the afternoon. They're going to learn about making gunyahs and weaving grasses into things the Aborigines used in the old days.”

“Such as?” Gili asked as Morgan walked her through the mullock heaps closest to the mine entrance.

“Baskets for storing food and other items, baby carriers, kind of like those backpack things women use today, a whole range of useful items. The Aborigines lived off the land so nothing was wasted.”

Morgan retained hold of Gili's hand as he raced them down the side of the mullock heap to the bottom of the gully. At the base, he pulled her to a halt. “Want to sit for a moment?”

Gili lowered herself to the red soil and used the mullock heap as a backrest. Morgan squatted down in front of her.

“Time to talk, I guess,” she said, looking over Morgan's shoulder instead of at his face. She wasn't certain she wanted to see his anger when she told him about Whitey and Jeremy.

“Why don't I make it easier for you?” He held up his hand as she opened her mouth to speak. “When you first turned up, I was seriously pissed off. You figured you could waltz in here and take off with the
Dreamtime Fire
, and for Jeremy Grissom of all people. I mean, what's wrong with this picture? You say you can't stand the man, but you're working for him?”

“Morgan, it—”

He cut her off with a sweep of his hand. “No, hear me out. I was stupid enough to believe his bullshit about you being the one who set up the sting in Iran. It took a while for the truth to filter through this thick brain of mine even after you told me you weren't responsible. But I still couldn't get past the fact you were actually working for him.”

“I didn't have a choice,” she murmured, looking anywhere but at Morgan.

“Yeah, that's what I'm beginning to think. Every time Grissom's name was mentioned, you'd get this look on your face. The same type of look you have right now.”

He slid his fingers under her chin and tilted her face up to him. “Worried. More than that, scared stiff. What's he holding over you, Gili?”

“I told you the truth. I'm doing this for my dad. His last commission, and then the Grissoms are out of his life for good. What I didn't tell you is that Dad tried to get out of this commission, but Jeremy wouldn't let him walk away. Hell, he made certain Dad couldn't walk at all.”

Morgan frowned. “What are you talking about?”

Gili pushed herself to her feet and started to pace. “I took this on because Dad had fallen into the path of a car and busted his leg. What I didn't know until I saw Dad and Mom at the hospital is that Whitey pushed Dad under that vehicle's wheels. Dad's lucky he wasn't killed.”

“Bloody hell, woman,” Morgan roared. “Why the heck didn't you tell me all this in the beginning?”

“I couldn't take the risk. He threatened he'd do something to Mom.” She grimaced. “And you, too. Which is why I turned up at the university to warn you. I didn't want you to get hurt. “

Morgan grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her. “You think I can't look after myself? And you, too, if necessary?”

“Sorry, but—”

“And why the hell didn't you tell me about your parents?”

“I didn't want you to think I was trying to gain your sympathy. You would have been pissed off with me.”

He ran a hand over his face. “Yeah, you're right. I wasn't thinking straight then. But why bring this up now? I've given you plenty of opportunities to come clean with me. I knew there was something you weren't telling me.”

Gili moved away from him, drawn to the mullock heap. Heat reached out to her, tempting her to run her hand over the soil.

She kept her back to Morgan and her tone flat as she stated baldly, “Whitey and Jeremy are here in Opalton. I thought I saw Whitey last night. Then today, before Jen and I joined the rest of you, I saw both him and Jeremy hiding behind one of the gunyahs, watching us.”

He grabbed her and spun her to face him. “They haven't tried to contact you?”

She shook her head. “Not since I visited you at the university. Jeremy…ah, he cornered me in the ferry building. He wanted to know if you'd told me where the opal was.”

Morgan swore and slammed his palm against his forehead. “Did he hurt you? Why the hell didn't you tell me back in Longreach?”

“I didn't feel I could tell you. Not then, anyway. I figured you'd be mad and try to get me to go back to America. Considering you thought I was working voluntarily with Jeremy, I guess I can't blame you.”

“If I get my hands on Grissom or his son, I'll flay the skin off their backs.” Morgan's voice was a vicious growl as he spat the words out.

“Yeah, well, you might get your chance, because it was definitely them I saw behind that gunyah.”

She clenched her fist and thumped it against the hard-packed mullock heap in frustration. “According to Jeremy's original threat, I only have another couple of days before I have to hand the opal over. Otherwise, they'll go after my parents. I had my Mom shift Dad to a private hospital, but I can't contact them to check they're alright. My phone doesn't work out here.”

“Okay, that we can take care of. I have a satellite phone in the truck. We'll try to ring them shortly. In the meantime…”

He put two fingers in his mouth and let out a piercing whistle that made Gili's ears ring. Within seconds, Charlie popped his head over the top of the gully, one finger poking at his ear.

“Hey, Boss, you tryin' to deafen this old blackfella?” His white teeth flashed in a wide grin.

“Charlie, we've got a problem. Whitey and Jeremy Grissom are hiding around here somewhere. We need to find them.”

“Jeremy Grissom who told you
Gili lubra
was responsible for that ring going missin' on the last dig?”

“Yeah, him,” Morgan spat out. “Turns out he's a bloody liar.”

Charlie slid down the mullock heap to join them. “Told you not to believe everything you hear, son. The spirits don't lie and Missy Gili's no thief. You want me and the boys to check it out?”

“You're damn right I do. And detain the bastards if you find them.”

Morgan turned back to Gili. “We'll put guards about the camp and mine tonight. If Jeremy or Whitey turn up we'll know.”

Gili suddenly felt unbearably tired. Her knees shook so she gave in and lowered herself until her butt hit the dusty ground. The mullock heap at her back flared with warmth, driving out the pinpricks of cold that had settled into her psyche when she'd seen Whitey and Jeremy.

She braced her forearms on her bent knees and dropped her head. “I can't believe this is happening. It's like something out of a bad thriller novel, but it's real, and we're living it.”