wildlife out, according to Sarah.
All the other facilities were under one huge roof: lounge area, dining area, a small library-cum-games room et cetera. But the unique thing was, there were no outside walls.
The floor was slate; there was a central stone-fireplace, and at intervals there were tubs of potted plants and artistically arranged pieces of dead wood, often draped with ferns.
There was a long refectory table, comfortable caneloungers and steamer chairs; beyond the fence and lawn, looking away from the rest of the compound, there was a lake alive with birds, reeds and water lilies.
The whole area reminded Holly of a safari lodge, and she was most impressed.
‘Just one thing, what do you do when it rains or blows a gale?’ she asked Sarah ruefully.
‘Hasn’t happened to me yet,’ Sarah replied. ‘But there are roll-down blinds.’ She pointed them out. ‘And I believe they put up shutters if they get a cyclone. Otherwise it lets the air flow through when it’s really hot. Here’s the kitchen.’
The kitchen was not visible from the rest of the area; it was also open on one side, yet had all mod cons. There were, Holly learnt, several sources of power on Haywire: a generator for electricity and gas for the hot-water system. There were still some old-fashioned combustion stoves for heating water in case other means failed. And there was a satellite phone as well as a VHF radio for communications.
There was an above-ground swimming pool surrounded by emerald lawn and shaded by trees.
Sarah explained that she was actually a nurse, but she enjoyed cooking, she loved the outback and she loved horses, so a stint as a housekeeper at Haywire suited her down to the ground.
‘Mind you, most often there’s only me, Bella, the horses and a few stockmen here. We don’t get to see the family that often. Actually, I’m surprised to see Brett. I thought he’d be down at Palm Cove with the rest of them.’
‘We were—he was,’ Holly said, and intercepted a curious little glance from Sarah. She found herself thinking, I knew this would happen! Probably no passable woman is safe in Brett Wyndham’s company without being thought of as his lover. ‘I’m actually working with him,’ she added.
‘So she is,’ the man in question agreed as he strolled up to them.
They both turned.
‘The mare has a stone bruise in her off-fore. I’ve relieved the pressure, but keep an eye on her or get Kane to,’ he added to Sarah. ‘Are they coming in tonight? Kane,’ he said for Holly’s benefit, ‘Is station foreman, and he has two offsiders.’
Sarah shook her head. ‘They’ve got a problem with a fence on the northern boundary. That’s miles away, so they decided to camp out overnight.’
‘OK, then it’s just us. I’m going to take Holly for a drive; we’ll be back before dark. Incidentally, what’s for dinner?’
Sarah grinned her infectious grin. ‘Would you believe? Roast beef!’
‘Standard cattle-station joke—roast beef for dinner,’ Brett said to Holly as they climbed into a sturdy, high-chassis four-wheel-drive utility vehicle. Holly had brought her camera.
She laughed, but said, ‘Look, I’m really surprised at how few people you have working here. From memory you run ten-thousand head of cattle; that sounds like a huge herd to me, and Haywire covers thousands of square kilometers.’ Holly said.
‘That’s because you probably don’t know much about Brahman and Droughtmaster cattle.’
‘I know nothing,’ Holly confessed.
‘Well—’ he swung the wheel to avoid an anthill ‘—Brahmans come down from four Indian breeds; they were first imported here from the USA in 1933. Droughtmasters are a Brahman cross, developed here. They’ve all adapted particularly to this part of the world for a variety of reasons. They’re heat-and-parasite resistant, they’re mobile, good foragers and they can survive on poor grass in droughts. They have a highly developed digestive system that provides efficient feed-conversion.’
‘They sound amazing.’
‘There’s more,’ he said with a grin. ‘The fact that they’re resistant to or tolerant of parasites means they don’t require chemical intervention, so they’re clean and green,’ he said humorously. ‘The cows are good mothers; they produce plenty of milk and they have small calves, so birthing is usually easy, and they’re renowned for protecting their calves. All of that—’ he waved a hand ‘—means they require minimum management. In answer to your question, that’s why we don’t need an army of staff.’
Holly looked around at the now undulating countryside they were driving through. It was quite rocky, she noticed, and dotted with anthills as well as spindly trees and scrub. The grass was long and spiky.
‘But this is only one of your stations, isn’t it?’ she said.
‘Yes, we have two more, roughly in this area, and one in the Northern Territory.’ He drew up and pointed. ‘There you are—Brahmans.’
Holly stared at the cream and mainly brown cattle with black points. They were gathered around a dam. They had big droopy ears, sloe eyes, dewlaps and medium humps. ‘They look so neat and smooth.’
‘It’s that smooth coat and their highly developed sweat glands that help them cope with the heat.’
‘Do they come in any other colours?’
‘Yes, grey with black points, but we don’t have any greys here on Haywire.’
‘It’s so interesting!’ She took some pictures then folded her arms and watched the cattle intently.
Brett Wyndham watched her for a long moment.
In her yellow singlet top, her jeans and no-nonsense shoes, she didn’t look at all out of place in the land-scape. In her enthusiasm, she looked even more apt for the setting; with her pale skin, that cloud of fair curls and no make-up, she was different and rather uniquely attractive.
He thought of her in her swimming costume only this morning: very slender, yes, but leggy with a kind of coltish grace that he’d found quite fascinating. Then again, in all her incarnations he’d found her fascinating…
He stirred and glanced at his watch. ‘Seen enough?’
Holly turned her head and their gazes clashed for a moment. She felt her skin prickle as an unspoken communication seemed to flow between them, one of mutual awareness.
Then he looked away and switched on the engine, and the moment was broken, but the awareness of Brett Wyndham didn’t leave her as they bounced over the uneven terrain back to the compound.
Quite unaware that her thoughts echoed his thoughts, she remembered him all sleek and tall in the waters of Palm Cove that morning. She recalled how easily he’d picked her up in his arms and carried her up the beach. She shivered inwardly as she remembered the feel of her skin on his skin.
Brett parked the ute outside the compound fence and pointed out of his window. Holly followed the line of his finger and saw
