a muffled drumming of the feet, others stood up. A tourist with a plummy Pommy voice shouted, “Bravo!”
The singer, herself, seemed to come to, slowly as if breaking out of a trance.
Troy for his part was still trapped in the song’s power and the sad memories it evoked.
Nothing could be clearer. Casey McGuire had many songs to sing and many stories to tell. No wonder she was heading for McIvor country. He’d take a bet on it. That’s where she belonged.
Casey started into an encore. Upbeat, hand clapping, exciting. It drew a big response from her audience.
Casey McGuire, Goddess of Song.
CHAPTER TWO
Murraree Station
THE PEACE of that hot, languorous afternoon was disturbed by quite a commotion. An early model utility covered in red dust had entered the main compound, making speedy, ear splitting progress up the drive. By the time it rattled to a halt at the base of the homestead’s front steps they were all standing wondering who the heck it was. Darcy and Curt were at the balustrade, Marian and Peter out of their chairs, Adam standing tall at Courtney’s side startled by something in her expression.
“What’s wrong?”
Shaken by premonition, Courtney put a hand to her throat. “I have a feeling this is serious,” she said.
“Serious? In what way?” Adam stared down at her golden head.
“We’ll soon find out.”
Typically Curt took charge. He called out to the driver using only enough authority as was necessary. “Hello there! What do you want?” It wasn’t usual this kind of charge to the front door. No one they knew drove such a vehicle, either. For one thing it looked like it should have been in a wrecker’s yard, but at least it hadn’t caught fire.
In front of Courtney’s mesmerised eyes a very tall young woman slid from the driver’s seat, banging the door rigorously. Probably she had to, to make it shut.
“Which one of you is Darcy?” she demanded to know in a rich caustic voice. She moved towards them sweeping off her wide-brimmed cream Akubra. Immediately a magnificent unbound fiery mane tumbled down her back. She had eyes the colour of sapphires.
Four people saw the resemblance at once but no one said a word. They were temporarily struck dumb. Darcy, Courtney, their mother Marian, Curt, Darcy’s fiancé, the love of her life.
Some things in life one couldn’t evade, Courtney thought.
“Cat got your tongue?” The young woman addressed Darcy, who stood frozen. She flashed a familiar brilliant smile that held a world of challenge. “Hi, I’m Casey. Jock McIvor was my dad. Now are you going to let me up?”
Courtney looked quickly at her elder sister, waiting for Darcy to respond.
Darcy did, keeping the tremendous shock from her voice. “By all means, join us, Casey whatever-your-name,” she responded levelly. “Looks like you’ve come a long way?”
Casey gave the dark haired young woman on the verandah another smile. “Indeed I have. Thanks a lot.”
What should they do now, Courtney wondered, looks passing quickly around. Once on the verandah the statuesque red-head made a bee-line for her. “And you couldn’t be anyone else but Courtney, the younger sister. Hi, there, Courtney. You’re as pretty as a picture.” She put out her hand and Courtney, feeling very odd took it, thinking she’d have to check her fingers afterwards. That was some grip for a woman.
“You have proof you’re Jock McIvor’s daughter?” Adam spoke for the first time, using his smooth dispassionate lawyer’s voice.
“Hell, do I need it?” The goddess fixed him with a blue stare.
She sounded so much like Jock, looked so much like Jock, Marian sat back down in her chair, feeling a light sweat break out over her body. Just how long had Jock been faithful to her? Answer. Never. Jock had made quite a sideline out of sleeping with other women.
“And you must be Marian, McIvor’s wife?” Casey advanced on Marian who was looking a bit pale.
“She was.” Darcy did the answering. From the expression on her face, Marian was marooned in a sea of unhappy memories. “As you correctly deduced, that’s my mother.” For the first time a flicker of anger showed in Darcy’s voice, but she made the introductions. “My mother’s husband Peter Owens, my fiancé, Curt Berenger, and our friend and family lawyer, Adam Maynard.”
“In short, everybody,” Casey said, sounding brisk and assured. “So will someone offer me a drink?”
“Why not!” Darcy shrugged, finding for all her air of challenge she somehow liked this strange young woman who might or might not be her half sister. She was shockingly like Jock. She even talked like him. “Perhaps a meal?” Darcy suggested.
“That would be lovely.” Casey broke out another smile, drenched in sunshine. “I haven’t eaten since breakfast. That was at Koomera Crossing. I’d have been here a lot earlier, only I had a few problems with the ute I had to fix.”
“You fixed it yourself?” Courtney who had no talent for fixing anything mechanical was amazed.
“Who else?” The goddess shrugged carelessly. “I take pleasure in keeping it running.”
“So why have you come here, Casey?” Curt asked, suddenly in Guardian mode.
She flashed that startling blue glance at him. “Why, to get to know my family of course.”
“But Casey,” Adam said gently, “we don’t know that you are family. Despite the remarkable resemblance, Darcy and Courtney have to have proof. We all do.”
“Sure, you’re a lawyer,” Casey said. “Just wait till you hear my story.”
They did over dinner. After their visitor downed a cold beer, Darcy had shown her to a recently refurbished guest room, leaving her to get the dust and the grime of her journey off her and settle in.
“I always knew this was going to happen,” Darcy confided to Courtney. “It has an inevitability about it. Dad had so many affairs. The only thing I got wrong was I thought it would be a son.”
“Watch out, there’s still time,” Courtney warned. “Any number could pop out of the woodwork. If Casey has waited until now, she probably read about Dad’s death in the papers. You know what that means, don’t you?”
“Sure.” Darcy didn’t sound worried. “She wants money. But she has to prove her identity first.”
“She looks pretty authentic to me,” Courtney said. “Fact is, I kind of like her though she’s not the sweetest young woman I’ve ever met. And that handshake! For a minute I was frightened she was going to toss me over her shoulder.”
“She could do it, too.” Darcy’s aquamarine eyes looked into the middle distance. “I have the feeling Casey has done it hard. But she’s never let anything stop her. I figure she’s a fighter.”
