Sarah's Baby Page 18

  She wasn’t a child any longer. But the house hadn’t lost its mystery, either. Up until now, it had never really bothered her. For long moments she stood still, her eyes closed tightly to block out any further unwelcome visions. But the old haunting question remained. Had Estelle Sinclair drowned or met some even worse fate? The bush was crisscrossed with lagoons and creeks and billabongs. In a flash of perception she believed that if she could have seen that pool more clearly, she’d have been able to identify it. She and Kyall, comrades of childhood, had known this entire area like the backs of their hands.

  She was conscious of her laboring heart and lungs. God! The experience, which seemed more and more real, had affected had bodily, making her take deep breaths. Those images had been riveting. Where had they come from? Normally of a calm disposition, reinforced by her training, she felt unnerved and agitated, marveling at the power of the mind but not understanding it.

  The loud whir of a helicopter’s rotors came as a huge relief. The fears and rumors surrounding this house might just be well-founded, she thought. Why had she taken over the tenancy in the first place? Because of the connection with Molly Fairweather, of course. Absurd to think poor Molly would speak the truth to her, especially since she was now very certain that Ruth McQueen had controlled Nurse Fairweather.

  What would she do if she had that vision again? Sarah asked herself with a chill. Reject it or let it come? Was it possible for the mind to cross to another time? The landscape had looked familiar. The trees, the big slippery rocks, the unusual shapes like ruins. She was a child again, playing adventurous games. Maybe she could will herself to identify that place.

  “Sarah?”

  Kyall’s voice called to her. Then he was there, filling the open doorway with his height and vivid presence. “Why on earth are you standing with your eyes closed?” His voice was half amused, half perturbed.

  She gave a shaky laugh and went to him almost blindly, feeling his strong arms come around her. “For the first time ever, the house has made me nervous.”

  “Darling, didn’t I tell you not to stay here?” he asked, her unease communicated to him.

  “I don’t think I had a choice. I was meant to stay here.”

  “Sarah!” He tipped up her chin so he could meet her eyes.

  “Maybe there are things that need to come out into the open.”

  “Like what?” His hand moved very gently to her breast. “Your heart is racing.”

  “I’m not surprised. My nerves are as taut as strung wire. I was standing on the veranda waiting for you when out of nowhere I saw the little Sinclair girl drowning. I could see all the floating blond hair. I could see the silhouette of a man standing on the sand. The most unnerving part is, I’m sure I know where they were.”

  Kyall frowned. “Didn’t I warn you about this house, Sarah? It’s had a calamitous history. You’re a very sensitive woman. God knows, there are mysteries in the world, and certain people are drawn into them. I don’t know what you picked up on, but I can see you’re disturbed. Maybe memories of what’s happened here have seeped into the atmosphere. I’m not happy about any of this.”

  She forced herself to relax. “The house doesn’t mean me any harm, Kyall, I’m certain of that. Maybe it’s letting me see things?” Sarah’s eyes clouded with sadness. “How that mother must have grieved for her child.”

  “Sarah, don’t do this.” For a moment she made him afraid.

  “I know. I’m sorry. It’s all over. I must have allowed my imagination to run riot, thinking about the house and its history. I should’ve kept staring at the stars, instead.”

  “They’re glorious tonight.” He sought to calm her. “We can watch them from bed. I’m sure as hell coming back with you tonight.”

  “Lovely.” She stood on tiptoe and kissed him.

  “You’re lovely,” he said. “Exquisite. I love the dress. I love everything about you. Magical! You always were,” he murmured. “I wonder if you could be a witch. Bewitching, certainly.”

  Her face lit up. “Remember when I made you that love potion?”

  “Sure do. I swallowed it.”

  “Narnji said it would work.”

  He laughed and shook his head. “It did. On the other hand, you could have poisoned me.”

  She paused to think. “In that case, I would’ve poisoned myself, as well. I drank some, too. It was only berry juice and something else. Something Narnji wouldn’t tell me. But she would never have harmed us.”

  Kyall remembered the powerful influence the Aboriginal woman had had on them. “Well, she did practice sorcery. She taught you a lot.”

  “Oh, to have those times again! I miss her. I miss everything about our wonderful childhood. Being with you I…”

  “I’m still here.” He looked at her, wanting to kiss every inch of her creamy skin. “I have your ring. Want to see it?”

  “Oh, yes, yes, yes!” Sarah cried. “Could there be any other answer to that question?”

  “How much time has passed, Sarah,” he lamented. “We should have been engaged—married—years ago. Give me your hand.”

  “My heart. My head. My soul.” She went to him, waves of pleasure whipping up inside her as he reached into the breast pocket of the blue dress shirt he wore with a blue-navy-and-silver silk tie, and withdrew the ring. “Receive this ring with all my love.” He spoke very formally, then added quickly, “No, don’t cry. You’ll ruin your makeup.”

  “How can I not cry?” She tried to control herself, but still the tears stabbed. “These long years…”

  “Don’t cry, darling,” he repeated. “Or I will, too. The bad times are finally over, Sarah. We’re together. Do you like your ring? If it’s not what you want, I’ll get you another. We’ll go shopping together.”

  “I adore it.” Her dazzled gaze took in the glorious ring.

  “You know what the central stone is?”

  “Tanzanite, only found at the base of Mount Kilimanjaro. Unique.”

  He nodded. “That’s why I decided on it. You’re unique to me. I could love no other woman on earth.”

  “And it’s almost the color of your eyes,” she gently teased.

  “It is not! That stone’s a cross between blue and purple.”

  “So are your eyes. It’s very beautiful, Kyall. I’ll treasure it all my life.”

  “Then you’d better treasure these, as well!” He dipped once more into his pocket. “I bought them to match.”

  “Oh, Kyall, that’s not a bottomless pocket, is it?” She stared at what he had in his hand. “Earrings! How gorgeous!” Like her engagement ring, the central stones were vivid-blue-and-purple-hued tanzanites set with brilliant diamonds.

  “Put them on,” Kyall urged. “Your own are very pretty, but these will go beautifully with your dress and later with your ring. The ring can either go back in my pocket, or you can keep it in your evening purse until the announcement tonight.”

  Sarah held up her left hand. “I don’t think I can bear to take it off. Perhaps it’s best if you keep it for the time being.” Lingeringly she removed the ring and handed it over. “I hope that’s not bad luck.”

  “Don’t say that!” His protest came hard and fast.

  “I know. It’s impudent to tempt fate.” Sarah turned and moved to the hall mirror to put on her earrings. “There, how do they look?” She made a graceful about-face, throwing out her hands.

  “Superb.” In his blue eyes she could see little flames. “Do you trust me, Sarah?” He caught and held her by the wrist, pulling back from his overwhelming desires—desires laced with an odd panic.

  “With my life.” It was the simple truth.

  “Tell me again that you’ll marry me.” He stood above her, thinking, My woman, my woman. This is my woman. My Sarah.

  She lifted a tender hand to his face. “The great Kyall McQueen uncertain?”

  “You’ve made me like that,” he countered, his face taut. “You and no one else.”

  She, who h
ad trained herself to be a model of calmness, could have burst into tears. “You’re my dream of the future, Kyall,” she said, standing very still beneath his hand. “I feared we could never be together. I’ve borne the weight of it. Now I know only you can make this happen.”

  WUNNAMURRA’S SPLENDID homestead was a blaze of lights, like a great liner afloat on a vast, rolling, black ocean. Even as they approached the house, they could hear the sound of music, conversation and ripples of laughter. It was ten past eight. By now, most people should have arrived. One hundred in all, not a large crowd, but all the people of influence in the town and the owners of the outlying stations, like the Claydons.

  Within a minute of stepping into the house, they were surrounded by polite, smiling people, the women expressing admiration for Sarah’s dress, sharp eyes not missing the beautiful earrings, telling her how wonderful it was to have her back. If only, if only, she’d taken up her appointment at the hospital before her dear mother died. There was some irony in that. None of these women had made the slightest attempt to befriend her mother, who ran the store.

  Kyall remained at her side, his head turned as guests called to him. Kisses on the cheek from the women. “Kyall, darling, how lovely to see you!” Hearty handshakes from the men. Companionable slaps on the back, a few jolly words, a lot of flattery, warm hellos, many expressions signifying interest at seeing Sarah so obviously by Kyall’s side. He knew all kinds of rumors had been circulating. Now, suddenly, he’d proved them true.

  Then the crowd parted as Ruth McQueen materialized, rather heavily made-up, her dark hair—she continued to have it colored its original sable—drawn back. For a woman her age she looked remarkably glamorous, her slight, imperious figure encased in a silver-brocade sheath. She wore pearls with a magnificent heart-shaped diamond around her neck. Pearls at her ears. Such was her aura that, like her grandson, she quite naturally stood out from the crowd, and this crowd was dressed in its finest. Invitations to Wunnamurra had become increasingly rare. They all wished to look as worthy of the honor as possible.

  “Ah, Kyall, you’ve arrived,” said Ruth, her eyes on her beloved grandson’s face.

  “You look incredible, Gran.” Kyall bent his head to kiss her.

  “And Sarah. I’m so glad you could come.” Unblinking black gaze. No trace of a smile. As if a smile would have killed her.

  Ruth didn’t wait for Sarah’s response but turned her head. “Do come and join us. We must find the guest of honor. I was fascinated to see him arrive with Harriet Crompton.”

  “Then he’ll be sure to enjoy himself.” Kyall gave his grandmother a glinting smile.

  “The house looks wonderful,” Sarah remarked, watching Ruth incline her head coldly.

  “Let me show you around.” Kyall took hold of Sarah’s arm, glancing in his grandmother’s direction.

  “Surely that can wait until later?” Ruth stalked off, not waiting for a response.

  “Nothing like a family party,” Kyall murmured. “Well, I think we’re over the worst of it.”

  “There are only two kinds of people,” Sarah said, smiling. “Optimists and pessimists. You’re the former.”

  “So tell me, how did you get to be the latter?” he countered, tightening his hold on her arm. “This is going to be a great night.”

  “Absolutely.” Quietly Sarah crossed her fingers.

  Kyall’s mother, Enid, and his father, Max, both looking very handsome, were sitting with the Claydons. Golden-haired, blue-eyed Mitch, who put everyone in mind of Robert Redford in his youth, lifted a hand in salute, flashing his engaging smile.

  “I’ve always been fond of Mitch. I’ll bet he would’ve liked you for a brother-in-law,” Sarah added dryly.

  “Mitch knew that wasn’t on.”

  “Did you discuss it?”

  “Didn’t have to,” Kyall answered in a laconic tone. “Mitch always knew how I felt about you. Don’t forget we virtually grew up together, although Mitch is a few years younger.”

  “And there’s India smiling brightly.” Sarah felt a sharp stab of pity. “This can’t be a good moment for her. I hate hurting anyone.”

  “I do, too.” Kyall’s response was a bit terse. “India and I enjoyed a friendship, but I never led her to believe that marriage would be the outcome.”

  “Then why has she waited all these years?”

  “God, I don’t know. Am I supposed to feel guilty?’

  “I feel guilty all the time.”

  “So you should. You went off and left me. The question is why.”

  Sarah sidestepped the answer. She had enough to contend with this evening. “Hush, we’re nearly there.”

  Enid broke off her conversation with Julanne Claydon to greet them, using all the charm she could muster. “Sarah, my dear, you look absolutely beautiful!” she said. “Those earrings are fabulous.”

  “Thank you.” It wasn’t the time to say, “They’re a present from Kyall. And that’s not all!”

  Julanne Claydon smiled coolly, but managed a few words of welcome. “Good to see you again, Sarah.”

  “Yes,” India tacked on, her eyes sparkling as though she was on the verge of tears. She looked very attractive in a short, sequined dress that showed off her long, tanned legs, staring at Kyall with a mixture of pleasure and disillusionment. The men—Kyall’s father, Max, and Brad and Mitchell Claydon—made up for any shortcomings, visibly delighted to see Sarah and Kyall together. First Max and then Brad Claydon, the multimillionaire cattleman who, strangely enough, wore a rumpled shirt, took Sarah’s hand, smiling at her with warm, paternal eyes. Mitch planted a feathery kiss on her cheek. “It’s great to have you back with us, Sarah,” he said.

  “It’s great to be back.” For a moment she actually meant it. Would have meant it only for…only for… She knew in her bones that things were not over.

  After a few minutes they moved on to find Morris and Harriet, who were holding court at the far end of the resplendent cream-and-gold drawing room, adorned with masses of beautiful flower arrangements that must have been flown in. The fragrance was all around them. Obviously they were having a good time. Both were in animated conversation with a group of guests that included the big impressive man Sarah had once spotted driving through town. Evan Someone. She would be pleased to meet him. The town’s mystery man.

  As soon as Harriet spotted them, she held up a hand and waved enthusiastically. Harriet, in her own inimitable way, looked every bit as eye-catching as Ruth. She wore a long, black dress, over which she’d thrown a gorgeous hand-painted-silk Chinese jacket in vibrant imperial yellow with darting turquoise birds and sprays of peonies in deepest pink with leaves of jade. As if that wasn’t enough, on her head she wore a most unusual little headdress, oriental in flavor. Something the last Chinese empress might have popped on of an evening.

  “It’s just not fair!” Sarah burst out affectionately. “Harriet always steals the show.”

  “What I love about her is that she makes me laugh. What is that getup?” Kyall asked in an amused undertone. “I just hope it doesn’t reek of mothballs like the last time.”

  “Well, we know one thing for sure. Morris is very taken with her.”

  “And she with him. They should get married or move in together. Harriet looks ten years younger since I last saw her.”

  Sarah murmured her agreement.

  “The big man is Evan Thompson, by the way. I’m glad he decided to come. He strikes me as tremendously lonely, as opposed to simply being a loner, which he undoubtedly is. You might be able to draw him out.”

  “He doesn’t look like a man content to answer questions,” Sarah answered, glancing toward the group.

  It took time to move through the beaming crowd, stopping here and there, but when they were a few feet away, Harriet swooped. “You look wonderful, both of you. Love the dress, Sarah.”

  “I like your outfit more.” Sarah smiled.

  “I’ll leave it to you in my will.” Harriet grasped her arm. �
�We’re having such a good time. It’s such a nice evening.”

  “Going well, is it?” Kyall asked, an indulgent expression on his face.

  “Morris has practically persuaded me to marry him,” Harriet said, shocking them. “Only joking,” she crowed as Sarah and Kyall visibly reacted. “Come on. We’ve been waiting for you. You must meet Evan, Sarah. He’s an extremely gifted and intelligent man.”

  And so it turned out. Sarah went back a long way with nearly all the people who’d been invited, but Evan Thompson was a newcomer. They didn’t exactly chat away; he wasn’t that kind of man. But he was charming in a Mr. Rochester kind of way, dark, sculpted head inclined to one side, paying keen attention to everything she said. No wonder every single woman in town had done her level best to get acquainted with him. There was something very intriguing about him. A hint of danger.

  Across the crowded room, India Claydon remarked waspishly, “How nice for Sarah! She’s actually got Evan Thompson to talk.”

  “Where?” Julanne Claydon asked, her face contorting with the effort to spot him. Sarah Dempsey wasn’t exactly Julanne’s favorite person right now. For a long time she’d thought India had a good chance with Kyall. Now Sarah was back.

  “Over there, look. She’s with Miss Crompton and the new doctor. And Kyall, of course. God, how I hate her!” Though she whispered, the words came out almost violently.

  Julanne was shocked. “That’s not very nice, India. You shouldn’t hate anyone.”

  “Mrs. McQueen promised me Kyall was mine,” India muttered.

  “What?” Julanne asked incredulously. She’d never heard this before.

  India flushed. “Mum, can you please stop the wheres and whats? And keep your voice down, okay? You know perfectly well that Mrs. McQueen—”