An Outback Affair/Runaway Wife/Outback Bridegroom/Outback Surrender/Home To Eden Page 7

  “I do, indeed.” Sarah moved to take a closer look.

  “They add a touch of class, don’t you think?”

  “As does Evan.” Sarah laughed. “He certainly is multi-talented. He’s a fine musician too, did he tell you?”

  “Cello,” Laura confirmed. “His mother taught him when he was a boy. I have an idea she’s well known, but he didn’t want to be drawn.”

  “That’s Evan.” Sarah shrugged, sinking into one of the comfortable armchairs. “How’s the friendship progressing?”

  “Time will tell.” Laura smiled. “He may tire of being a Good Samaritan, but I’m revelling in having him next door. There’s nothing he can’t fix. Colin used to call in a professional to change the halogen lights. I have to say the ceilings were very high, but I can’t imagine Evan doing any such thing.”

  “No.” Sarah grinned. “He certainly exudes competence. There’s a lot of emotion behind those dark eyes, don’t you think?”

  “A lot of strength and a love of beauty,” Laura finished off. “I’ve decided he’s a man of strong passions but they’re clamped down tight.”

  “That makes sense when one is trying to get one’s life back together. Kyall thinks Evan’s a man who has removed himself from some crisis situation. We’d all like to know what, but Evan’s not talking. I suppose he will when he’s ready. The Outback isn’t his world.”

  “It’s offering him solace,” Laura offered. “Like me.”

  “I’m pleased to say you’ve lost that look of stress,” Sarah approved. In fact, Laura looked glowing.

  “I do feel better. More relaxed. It’s comforting to know Evan Thompson is right next door. All six-four of him. He’s taken on the role of big brother.”

  “Does that bother you?”

  “No. It’s a bit of a game we’re playing. He doesn’t want to see me as a woman; he prefers to see me as a mixed-up teenager. Fewer complications.”

  “You still haven’t been able to approach the subject of Colin?” Sarah watched Laura as a friend and as a doctor.

  “I’ve answered quite a few of Evan’s questions, but no. My spirit is healing, especially when I look up at the Outback stars at night. the sheer numbers, the brilliance and the closeness. I don’t want thoughts of Colin to slow the process. As for Evan, I have to think he’s very much at home interviewing people.”

  “A Pulitzer Prize winner?” Sarah suggested with a smile.

  “It wouldn’t surprise me. It wouldn’t surprise me either to find out his name is something quite different from Thompson.”

  “I suppose if he doesn’t tell us one day we’ll stumble on his identity,” Sarah said. “One thing we can be sure of—he’s a man of integrity. One recognizes the quality right off.”

  “You look so happy, Sarah.” Laura was struck by her friend’s incandescence. “Radiant would have to say it. And Kyall mirrors your happiness. I’m so glad for you both.’ She remembered her manners. “Could I get you something?” She half rose in anticipation. “Tea, coffee, a cold drink?”

  “No, thanks, Laura.” Sarah waved her back into her chair.” Kyall and I have many things to attend to. A trip to Wunnamurra is first on the agenda. I can’t stay long but I wanted you to hear my news, then I’m off. It will all be public soon enough.”

  “Okay, I’m all ears.” Laura leaned forward, feeling a tremendous sense of kinship with this beautiful woman.

  “It’s altered everything—our whole lives, our plans—but we’re thrilled about it.” Sarah’s expression was exalted.

  “So tell me?” Laura pleaded. “I can’t stand the suspense. I recognized something wonderful had happened to you the moment you danced through the door.”

  “That’s it! I feel like I’m walking on air. Do you believe in God?” she asked Laura, very earnestly.

  “I do.”

  “So do I now. I wasn’t sure. You’re going to be stunned.”

  “If it makes you look this good, stun away.”

  Even then Laura couldn’t begin to take in the story Sarah began to unfold.

  In the quietness of the afternoon Sarah told of the close childhood bond between her and Kyall McQueen, of the opposition from Kyall’s family, most significantly Kyall’s grandmother, Ruth McQueen, the family matriarch. The result of that intense relationship—an unplanned pregnancy when she was still at school.

  Before Laura could recover, Sarah swept on. “Needless to say Ruth was beside herself with anger and outrage. I wasn’t going to be allowed to ruin Kyall’s life. I understood that. My own life would be for ever changed, but Ruth had no concern about that. I was so young. Mum and I didn’t have much, only each other. I was terrified that what Ruth was saying was the truth. The McQueens have always been regarded as very special people. They practically own the town. My father—he died early—used to work on the station as a shearer. There was no question of a serious relationship, let alone a match.”

  “So what happened?” Laura was finding it unbelievable that the serene, composed Sarah had been caught up in such drama.

  “Ruth bundled me off to a little coastal town to wait for the birth. She wanted me to have an abortion, but I refused. When the shock of finding I was pregnant settled, I wanted my baby. I held her for a few minutes after she was born. She was perfect. Ruth told me the next morning my baby had died.”

  “Ah, Sarah!” Laura felt the shock right through her system.

  “But she didn’t die,” Sarah told her friend quickly, seeing the stricken expression on Laura’s sensitive face. “Ruth McQueen deceived me. She deceived my mother. Kyall was never told.”

  “But that’s monstrous!” Laura understood instantly. “It puts my story into perspective. You must hate her? To do something like that— But how?”

  “Cold-bloodedly and without a moment’s thought for what her actions were going to do to me. My baby was exchanged with an infant who did die of respiratory problems. Ruth paid a nurse to make the change.”

  “Sarah, what can I say? I can scarcely believe this.”

  “It’s all true.” Sarah gave a short laugh. “It could easily have remained true, only for the grace of God. Kyall and I have only now discovered our daughter. As fate would have it she’s staying on a schoolfriend’s property for the holidays. I was called to a very serious accident on the property that turned out to be fatal. Kyall and I went back to the homestead for a cup of tea, and our daughter walked into our lives. Living proof after years of hell.”

  “But how did you know?” Laura’s voice reflected her stunned emotions.

  “Laura, she’s the image of me,” Sarah said simply. “The woman who took her home and reared her, very successfully, is the same woman who was in the small maternity hospital with me. I’ve never forgotten her name. Stella. Stella Hazelton. It was Stella’s little baby who died. But Fiona’s our daughter, Laura. We want her.”

  “Of course you do.” Laura’s reaction was strong. “It’s so sad, though. It will involve—”

  “Pain for the ‘parents’ who reared her?” Sarah spoke out as Laura hesitated. “That’s the hard part. The Hazeltons did a fine job. For that we’ll be everlastingly grateful. Fiona has been very loved and Fiona loves them. Why wouldn’t she? Her parentage was never in question. Until now. Fiona is our daughter. Kyall’s and mine. We missed the first fifteen years of her life, irreplaceable years, but we’re not missing the rest. Between us all we came to a decision Fiona should come to us, her true parents. That will happen when she’s ready to make the adjustment. Oh, Laura, she’s perfectly beautiful.” Sarah’s velvet-brown eyes filled with emotional tears.

  “If she’s like you she must be.” Laura leaned over and squeezed Sarah’s hand. “This is a truly amazing story.”

  “In confidence, for the moment.”

  “Of course. I won’t breathe a word.”

  “It will get around soon enough. Harriet knows. I never did feel in my deepest being my baby had died.”

  “And Kyall? You never told him?�
�

  “I know what you’re thinking. He should have been told.” Sarah’s eyes darkened.

  “I’m making no judgements, Sarah,” Laura answered at once. “I don’t know the circumstances but I do know you must have been subjected to tremendous emotional stress. You thought you’d lost a child. The greatest grief a woman can suffer.”

  Sarah’s golden head was downbent. “The shock has been greatest for Kyall. I’ve lived with the loss of my baby for half my lifetime. Kyall never knew he had a child. I thought I was sparing him the agony. That’s my only explanation. He took it very hard. I don’t think he’ll ever get over it—except we have our daughter.”

  “But what of his grandmother? Are you going to confront her?”

  “This very day.” Sarah’s musical voice turned uncharacteristically harsh.

  “Oh, Sarah! It will be a ghastly business.”

  “I’m sure. But Judgement Day is at hand for Ruth McQueen. Kyall has been very close to her all his life. He’s the one person in the world Ruth loves. All the rest are peripheral figures. But there are different kinds of loving.”

  To men like Colin it meant possession, Laura thought. Ownership of a woman’s body and mind.

  “Ruth’s brand of loving is destructive,” Sarah said. “While she proclaimed her great love of her grandson she robbed him of his child. She feels no remorse. That’s the sort of woman she is.”

  Laura had to look away. “How very strange.”

  “Strange doesn’t say it, Laura. When Ruth McQueen is crossed she becomes a devil.”

  Laura had some experience of devils.

  It had taken many years for Sarah to deal with her traumas. By the grace of God they were in the past. Now it’s my turn, Laura thought. If Sarah could live with the hell of a lost child, survive and become a fine doctor, surely she could change the terrible mess she had made of her life by marrying Colin.

  One didn’t become strong overnight, not after all the awful fear she’d been living with, but there was some magic about this town. The very sunlight had healing power. The friendliness of its people. A woman like Sarah. Evan. She had come to depend on his friendship. Since coming to Koomera Crossing her life had irrevocably changed course.

  CHAPTER SIX

  THE morning session was going surprisingly well for him. The words flowed. He was able to report on some of the most terrible events of his life as though he were writing a book of horrors to be turned into a war movie. For the first time he was able to stand back from the terrible stress, subdue his anger, while he captured scenes of the days and nights when madness had reigned.

  The phone rang.

  Damn! Sometimes he wanted to rip it out of the wall. His agent, George Costello, was really pushing him, trying to get him to agree to a deadline. He was taking calls from Channel Nine. They wanted him to cover world events. Badly, it seemed. They liked his style, his narration, the direct way he approached a story.

  The TV channel were talking big money—not that money had ever driven him. He had more than enough, mostly inherited from his dead father. He would gladly give it away to have his father back. It was clear to him now his peers had judged him and found he had made a significant contribution.

  “You made a terrific impact, Evan, with your reportage from the front line,” Costello was fond of telling him.

  And the life had made a big impact on him.

  He spoke gruffly into the phone. “Evan Thompson.” Thompson had been the name of his father’s driver: a good loyal friend, in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  A woman’s cultured mature voice, still retaining its English accent, was on the other end. “Harriet, here, Evan.”

  He apologized wryly. “Sorry, Harriet, if I barked. I was preoccupied with something. It’s easy to lose the thread.”

  “That’s all right, Evan.” Harriet sounded as if she had more important matters to discuss. “I have some disturbing news, I’m afraid. I’ve just had a distressed call from Sarah. Ruth McQueen has gone missing. They’re searching for her now.”

  He went to say something. Caught himself. “Surely she hasn’t gone off into the bush by herself? That’s a strange thing for a woman of her age and experience to do. Even if she thinks she knows it like the back of her hand it’s still possible to become disoriented in the wilderness. She may have taken ill. Had a fall. What exactly happened?”

  It took Harriet a moment to answer. “It’s difficult to tell it all, Evan. You’ll be hearing most of it soon enough. The family is fairly frantic. Ruth has been a most difficult woman—” God, what an understatement, Harriet thought “—but she is the matriarch, and she’s well into her seventies.”

  “Is it possible she has a hidden agenda?” he couldn’t help asking. “I can’t imagine her wandering off, Harriet. If ever a woman had her wits about her it’s Ruth McQueen.”

  “Ah, yes!” Unconsciously Harriet’s tone turned bone-dry. “Nevertheless, she’s nowhere in the homestead or the main compound. Now they’re searching the bush.”

  “All those lagoons and waterholes!” He had a strange feeling in the pit of his stomach. “It’s to be hoped no harm has come to her. Do they need help?”

  Harriet’s tone warmed. “Thank you, Evan, but they have enough men on the ground. Kyall has taken the helicopter up. What I’d like you to do, if you would, is pass on the news to Laura. She doesn’t know Ruth of course, but she does know Kyall and Sarah. I couldn’t be more pleased she has you for a neighbour.”

  “Why, Harriet?” he gently challenged. Harriet the match-maker.

  There was a pause. “Because I am.”

  “I’ll go next door right now, Harriet. Could you ring me if there’s any news?”

  It sounded as though Harriet had sucked in her breath. “To be truthful, Evan, I can’t think the news will be good,” she said.

  When he went next door to the cottage he found Laura in the rear garden, clipping back the swaying heads of lavender that had turned sea-blue in the hot sun. They smelled wonderfully, but were encroaching on the brick path.

  He’d got into the habit of glancing through a side window to see if she was working in the garden. Somehow the sight she made, like a beautiful Renoir painting, eased his soul. Today she was wearing a pastel pink T-shirt tucked into narrow jeans with a fancy belt with a big turquoise medallion around her tiny waist. On her head, protecting her luminous skin, she wore a large straw hat, the romantic kind, its wide brim floppy with full-blown fabric roses; soft leather shoes were on her feet.

  All the world gilded, he thought. Pulsing with heat waves that released all the dry aromatic scents of the bush. Songbirds sang from the trees, softening the excited squawks of the brilliantly plumaged lorikeets as they plundered the grevillea brushes. Bees droned. So peaceful. So paintable.

  His own country had to be the safest place in the world, he thought. Australia. New Zealand. Neither had experienced war and bloodshed on their soil. Neither had been exposed to the terrible sights and sounds that had affected him so deeply. Such safety was to be treasured.

  As he stood staring at her she suddenly realized he was there. “Hello, Evan,” she called, so sweetly he could feel his body stir. He hadn’t had a woman in quite a while, but he knew in his heart he wanted this woman even as his mind told him she was untouchable. “Have you come along to help me?” she asked, teasingly.

  “Of course not.” Only then could he move, sauntering down to her. “It’s glorious work, puttering about a garden. Besides, how can you learn if I do it all for you?”

  “You’re saying I’m used to having a gardener?” She tilted her head right back to look up at him, and the thought came out of nowhere that she loved his face. The sculptured head, the large handsome features, the square jaw and those black eyes that were resting on her. Could their depths ever be trawled?

  He picked a paper daisy and pretended to feel the texture before he reached out to lift her to her feet. What would it be like to kiss her mouth, so beautiful, so te
nder? Cup her face with his hands… “Didn’t you?” he asked sardonically.

  She walked into the trap. “I wasn’t allowed to make mistakes, Evan.”

  It wasn’t the answer he’d expected. He stared at her, perturbed. “Surely we can’t be talking about your parents?” Daddy’s Little Girl? Some daddies were terribly possessive of their beautiful little girls, he thought.

  She shrugged, wiped the tips of her fingers on her jeans before she accepted his hand. “Stop trying to catch me out, Evan Thompson. Okay, so what brings you here? I know. You want morning tea? You’re crazy about my little Anzac biscuits?”

  He gave a short laugh. “That’s true. Like most men, I have a sweet tooth. But why don’t you come inside? I know you’ve got that shady hat to protect you—it looks very fetching, by the way—but this Outback sun packs a lot of punch.”

  “You’re telling me.” She looked up at him, registering the expression in those brilliant dark eyes. “What is it, Evan?” she questioned, anxiety stirring.

  “You’re a hard person to keep things from.”

  “You look as though you have something you wish to say.”

  “Perhaps inside,” he said.

  She could feel herself start to tremble, her limbs weak. “Something about me?”

  “God, no!” His black brows drew together. “I’m sorry, Laura. I didn’t intend to alarm you. It’s not about you at all.”

  “Oh!” She couldn’t prevent the deep sigh of relief.

  “You’re full of fears, aren’t you?” His eyes swept her. He wanted to pull her to him, lend her some of his own abundant strength.

  She swallowed back the emotion in her throat. “I guess our fears follow us wherever we go.”

  “Until we turn and confront them.”

  “Believe me, I will,” she said, seized by hope that hadn’t existed before. Even so, it was a terrible thing to live with the fear that Colin would rather kill her than see her happy with someone else. “But I need time.”

  “Okay.” His eyes remained steady on hers. Moments stretched out. Too long. There was sexual attraction. Astonishing, mysterious, powerful.