Outback Bachelor (10 page)

“Not here, boss,” Jonah called. “Bin here, though. Ya can see all the tracks. Mebbe this mornin’. Can’t be far.”

“We’ll take a ten-minute break,” Keefe decided, already starting to dismount. Everyone was tired. So tired. But determined. There was a job to be done.

Skye followed suit. She was fading more quickly than she had thought. The shimmering heat over the spinifex plains was unholy. There was one plus, however. Her mare, with her thoroughbred lines and fine aristocratic head, was as smooth as silk to ride. That gave her extra confidence.

“This is awful!” Rachelle staggered up to them to complain. “I feel like I’m about to pass out.” Her smooth olive skin was mottled with heat rash. Skye felt really sorry for her. No use to say, “You shouldn’t have come, Rachelle.” That would have been tantamount to waving a red flag in front of a bull.

Keefe looked at his sister with concern. “You wanted to come, Rachelle,” he reminded her. “It
is
terribly hot. We’re in for another dry storm. Why don’t you relax for a while, cool down, then call it a day? We’re over the worst of it, but there’s more to come. The mob can’t be far away.”

Robert walked towards them, raising a hand. “It doesn’t get much better than this,” he enthused, his good-looking face aglow with heat and excitement. No brumby chases where he came from. No real rough and tumbles. “What a picturesque place!” he exclaimed. “It has to be seen to be believed. You couldn’t even count the butterflies. But no brumbies, alas!”

“We’ll find them,” Keefe said with conviction.

“How’s it going, Skye?” Robert transferred his gaze to Skye, thinking she looked a vision even after a tough ride. Her beautiful skin was flushed, honey-gold wisps of hair escaped from her thick plait to stray around her face: her eyes were as vivid a blue as the sky.

“Don’t worry about
her,”
Rachelle broke in fiercely, obviously feeling very sorry for herself. “This is a real drag. I’ll probably get stung by one of those damned bees.” She swatted the golden-green air. “I could do with a cup of tea.”

“Sorry. No tea,” Keefe rose to his feet. “Tea later. We have to catch up with the mob. Old Man Mooki is onto us.”

“Damn Old Man Mooki!” Rachelle cried out, in a fit of bad temper.

“Rachelle, I’m in no mood for mutiny.” Keefe turned on his sister very quietly. “I understand you’re tired. You’ve got right out of the way of things. We’ll ride on, and you can head for home. Keep to the line of lagoons.”

“I want Skye to come with me.” Rachelle’s dark glance veered from her brother to the silent, but sympathetic Skye.

“I’ll come,” Robert offered very gallantly when he was thoroughly enjoying the experience.

“I don’t want
you
,” Rachelle announced rudely. “I want Skye.”

“Only Skye’s riding with me,” Keefe told his sister, this time in a no-nonsense type of voice. “So is Rob. He’s having a ball. You can easily find your way back, Rachelle. I can spare Eddie to go with you. Just take it nice and easy. Drink often from your water bottle.”

“Thanks for nothing!” Rachelle cried hotly.

“It’s yourself you have to blame.” Briefly Keefe touched her shoulder. “Mount up now. The rest of us have to keep moving.”

“Wait and see. I’ll probably get sunstroke.” Rachelle issued the dire warning. She had so hoped to see Skye drooping from exhaustion. No such luck.

“No, you wont,” Keefe assured her. “You’re carrying the McGovern banner.”

T
HEY
finally caught up with the mob at a borehole. Roughly thirty wild horses, very tricky to catch. Old Man Mooki was the big black stallion that had run for years with his motley mob and ever-increasing harem, some of them mares he had taken from the station. Many attempts had been made to yard him in the past but Mooki had great legs, hence great speed. These days he wasn’t as tough as he had been, but was still a formidable opponent.

“Let them drink their fill.” From the shelter of the trees, Keefe issued the order just above his breath. “Slow ’em down. Then we’ll try to drive them towards Yalla Creek. The bed is dry and the banks are steep. With any luck at all, the sand will wear them out.”

Muscles tense, they awaited their moment.

Sharp old Mooki sensed them before they got anywhere near them. The colts threw up their heads as though at a signal. The mares began to snort and kick up. Next minute they were off, in a thunder of black, bay, piebald and chestnut bodies. They were moving so fast it seemed like they didn’t have a hope in hell of catching them, Skye thought, hot on the chase. The mob, with Mooki in the lead, was doubling back towards the trees, unshod hooves pounding up a great billowing cloud of red dust, tangled manes and tails whipping in their own momentum.

They spread out, five of them now with Rachelle and Eddie out of the game. For the plan to succeed they had to head Mooki off. Turn him round. The mob would follow. It took nerve, but they forced themselves on, trying to ignore the heat of the day. Gradually the mares came down to a canter, one of the mares in foal dropping out of the race. The rest of the harem was slowing. Mooki and the colts were dead set to fight for their freedom. Keefe had plotted their course of action in advance. Yalla Creek wasn’t all that far off. The sandy bed would prove heavy going for all the horses, including their own. The danger was that the youngsters in the mob would endeavour to get to the opposite side of the creek. The trick was not to give them the opportunity.

Keefe thundered past her, his bush shirt stuck to his back with sweat. He was taking chances, but he was a splendid horseman and his big gelding had endurance and a fabulous turn of speed.

Incredibly, out of nowhere a group of adult emus, standing nearly two metres high, decided to join in the chase. They must have felt threatened in some way because they put on a tremendous burst of speed—they were capable of sixty kilo-metres an hour—outrunning the tiring horses. It was a fantastic sight and would have been very funny if it hadn’t been so dangerous to man and beast.

Heart in her throat, Skye found her second wind. She picked up her own speed, fanning out wide with Rob fanning away to her left. What if an emu decided to veer across their tracks? Years before a mounted stockman had been killed in a freak encounter with an irate emu protecting its nest. The only thing that surprised her was that a mob of kangaroos hadn’t joined in. Give either species, just a hint of a chase and it was on!

Ahead Keefe and one of the stockmen had Mooki boxed in. Skye and Rob brought up the rear, with the remaining stockman going to their assistance. The brumby stallion was as good as penned. Only not to be outdone, Mooki took a mighty plunge into the creek, his hooves threshing about in the loose sand, his heaving sides lathered in sweat. A few of the colts hesitated, as though they knew they’d be bogged down in the sand, but the others followed their leader.

Inside ten minutes it was all over. The flightless emus, satisfied there was no threat being posed to them, trotted off sedately on their long grey legs. Keefe took his pick of the worn-out colts. The others, including the old war horse, Mooki, he let go.

“Really should shoot the ugly old thing!” Rob muttered. “He’s a real pest.”

“No need.” Keefe would only shoot a horse when he absolutely had to. “Mooki is on his last legs. Have to hand it to him. He’s a game old guy. What we have to do now is yard the colts. Not a bad bunch. We should be able to turn them into good working horses.”

It turned out to be a hollow victory.

“I don’t like the look of that sky.” Keefe stared upwards with a frown on his brow. He had been sensing trouble for a while now. Familiar as they all were with the dry electrical storms, many times he found himself relying on a mix of intuition and experience for further developments. The mushrooming masses of steel-grey and black were almost directly overhead. It would be a miracle if there was rain in them. Still, the odd miracle did happen.

Thankfully they had finished constructing a makeshift holding yard, using stout coolabahs for posts. The colts had gone in quietly enough but now they were starting to mill about as glaring silver-blue flashes of lightning rent the heavens, followed by loud booms of thunder.

“Better take cover,” Keefe shouted over the abruptly rising wind. Their own horses were tied up securely. The stockmen set to arranging a tarpaulin as some sort of shelter. “Go on, Skye. Move it,” Keefe ordered, over the howl of the wind. This was one time he wished she weren’t there.

“You’d better move it too,” she shouted back at him. “I don’t like the look of this either.” There could be a short sharp deluge, or the whole thing would pass yet again. It was those jagged lightning bolts that posed the danger.

“I’m not going to stand here arguing.” Keefe seized her, easily gathering her up with one arm and sheltering her with his body. They made a race towards shelter but didn’t make it before a lightning bolt, like a gigantic flashing mirror, shot down the sky like a missile and buried itself in the centre of the tallest gum. The strike was so bright it seared the eyes. Momentarily blinded, Skye felt Keefe’s strong arm tighten to steel as he pitched her beneath the tarpaulin where she went sprawling on her hands and knees. Slightly winded, when she opened her eyes it was to see him turning back to free the penned colts.

The huge gum tree was still holding but fire was blossoming all over it so it stood like a towering armed statue alive with electric-blue flame.

The screams from the colts were horrifying; near human in terror, severely unsettling the station horses that were out of harm’s way. Eddie had sprung to attention, going to Keefe’s aid. Sooner or later the tree was going to explode. What then?

Skye started praying for a miracle.

Please bring on the rain
.

She couldn’t remain in the shelter. Surely they needed every pair of hands. Shakily she rose to her feet, feeling pain around her midriff where Keefe had grabbed her. Swiftly she made the judgment she would be best employed helping Rob tackle the far corner of the yard. Her bandana would have to act as a glove. She ripped it off, wrapping it tightly around her right hand. There wasn’t a second to lose.

Keefe caught sight of her out of the corner of his eye. “I told you to keep back, Skye,” he roared. “We’ll handle it. Do what I tell you.”

“I’ll be okay!” she defied him, realising she was probably the only person on Djinjara who would dare to.

The truly bizarre thing was the wonderfully intoxicating smell of the burning tree.

“Hurry, Skye, we can do it!” Rob yelled to her, thrilled by her sheer guts. The heat was so intense they risked getting scorched but the focus was on freeing the wild horses.

She couldn’t run away and hide. She had to face it. Do her bit.

Keefe’s end of the makeshift yard predictably fell first, quickly followed by a general collapse. The terrified horses bolted out of the wrecked enclosure, galloping in a frenzy of fright for the open plain.

“Get to the gully.” Keefe threw out an imperative hand, racing back to where the station horses were tethered. He untied the terrified animals, sending them on their way with a hard slap on the rump.

“Do you
ever
do what you’re told?” Keefe got a fierce grip on Skye, half lifting her off the ground as they made a run for the gully, where he plunged them both in. It was from there, standing thigh deep in yellow brackish water, that they watched the gum tree come down with a mighty roar, sending up a billion sparks and a high, spiralling tongue of flame. That intoxicating smell of burning eucalyptus wood saturated the air.

Then came the smoke. Not good. That started them off coughing. Keefe buried Skye’s head against his chest, his bush shirt sodden with gully water.

“Phew!” he exclaimed hoarsely. “I’ve never seen anything like that in my life.”

Tentatively Skye lifted her head, her sensitive nostrils flaring at a new scent on the air. Sulphur. “Keefe, I think it’s going to rain,” she said, wonder in her voice.

Keefe threw up his water-slicked dark head, his expression matching hers. “It is!” he said in amazement.

“Gosh, isn’t that wonderful?” The moment seemed so ecstatic, words just bubbled up as if from an underground spring. “Want to kiss me?” she challenged, turning up her wet, glowing face.

“Do I!” He reached for her with tremendous urgency. The rain came pelting down…He continued to hold her, kissing her fiercely, never moving his mouth from hers. Mouths and bodies were fused wetly, unmistakably passionately together. They appeared to be oblivious to everyone and everything, even the rounds of clapping and the gleeful whoops!

Time to go home
, Rob Sullivan thought, stunned by all he had witnessed. Now this! Keefe was a magnificent guy.

I guess he needs a magnificent woman
.

The night before she was due to fly out of Djinjara on the first leg of her way home—Robert was heading back with her—Skye was invited up to the Big House for dinner. The invitation had been issued by Lady Margaret. She understood it had to be obeyed. She felt a violent tug of war on her emotions. She desperately wanted to be with Keefe before she left and she wanted to spend that last evening with her father.

“Go, love, go!” Jack expressed his encouragement. “Lady McGovern thinks the world of you.” He paused for a telling moment. “So does Keefe.”

“The kiss got around?” Skye faced her father across the table.

“Yeah, well, what did you expect, love? We all know you and Keefe share a bond. I sort of thought of it as…affection?”

He sounded worried, Skye thought. How had he missed her real feelings for Keefe? He was her father after all. Or had he deliberately chosen to hide from what had been right under his nose? Damaged people did. “You have a problem with me kissing Keefe, Dad?” she prompted, fully aware her father was a man who, in his own words, “kept his place”. Was he worried that he could possibly lose his job as a result of this new development?

“Problem?” Jack’s expression suddenly relaxed. “As I heard it, he grabbed
you
!”

Skye reached for his hand. Now wasn’t the right moment to confide in him. “It was just one of those things. You know how it is. The rain coming down at that precise moment was fantastic. Like a gift from Heaven. It put out the fire.”

“Still, a
kiss
?” Jack, not to be put off, searched her eyes.

“A kiss, Dad. That’s all.”

Jack scoffed. “A single kiss can change a life. I should know. So how is this kiss going to affect everyone at the house? I reckon you ought to prepare yourself for some attack from Rachelle. By the way, Scott’s girlfriend turned up this afternoon when you were out taking photographs.”

She nodded. “I noticed a plane fly over when I was taking shots of Manguri.” She referred to Djinjara’s revered desert monument. “By Scott’s girlfriend, you mean Jemma Templeton?”

Jack nodded. “That’s the word. Plain girl, but very sweet and gracious. Too good for Scott, I fear. He won’t be faithful.”

“I expect not,” Skye sighed. “You think they’ll make a match of it?”

“I’m more interested in what’s going on between you and Keefe.” Jack continued to study Skye’s face. “It seems to me in a perfect world, you’d be perfect for each other. But in the
real
world there’s me, your dad. Plain old Jack McCory, station overseer, a man who had to leave school at fourteen. You can take your place anywhere, you’re a beautiful, educated woman, but I’m just good old Jack. Are you anxious about that, love?”

Skye’s tender heart melted. “How could I possibly be anxious about you, Dad? I love you. Never mind with the McGoverns. Anyway, Keefe thinks very highly of you. You wouldn’t be overseer if you couldn’t handle everything that’s thrown at you.”

“True.” Jack felt quite secure in his own capabilities as Djinjara’s overseer. “But
socially
, I mean. The McGoverns are Outback royalty. We both know that. Look at it from the family’s point of view.”

“You’re jumping too far ahead, Dad.” She strove to slow him down, though she herself was concerned about the McGovern’s reactions.

“If Keefe kissed you—in front of everyone—it means he couldn’t care less about what anyone thinks,” Jack reasoned. “I see it as the equivalent of a commitment. Especially from Keefe. It wouldn’t mean much coming from Scott, but Keefe is something else again.”

“I can’t argue with that,” she said quietly. “But I’m sure the family is expecting Keefe to do a whole lot better than me. Best to face it squarely, Dad.”

“Damn it all, he
couldn’t
do better,” Jack stoutly maintained. “But we both know the McGovern clan are first-class snobs. That Rachelle has given you hell over the years.”

Skye sighed. “She has in her way, but it’s not so much snobbery, Dad. Rachelle has convinced herself I robbed her of her brother’s affection. It’s not true, but that’s the way she feels. She doesn’t have a lot of insight into her own behaviour.”

“Have you and Keefe come to any sort of agreement?” Jack asked tentatively. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. At least, not until there’s something to say.”

“There’s nothing
to
say, Dad.” She shook her head. “Keefe and I have always shared a strong bond but we haven’t moved on. There are all sorts of difficulties.”

“I can see something is weighing heavily on your mind. Don’t worry, I won’t ask. I’ll wait for you to tell me. You’re the best daughter in the world.” He covered her hand with his own.