She had been shocked when Garrick, only recently, had reluctantly come out with the dreadfully dismaying news that he had burned all of Zara’s letters. Unread! As a woman, she had sided with Zara and her feelings. One way or another, her proud son hadn’t given Zara a chance to explain herself and her actions. No wonder there were a whole lot of conflicting emotions there. She prayed that Zara’s stay on Coorango would finally uncover the truth. She wasn’t such a fool that she didn’t know Zara still deeply cared for her son. Even the way she looked at him shouted that fact to his mother, if not to him.
Ah, well, one could only hope that the peace and freedom of Coorango would work its magic. There was a rush now for her beloved Daniel to see his only son settled, if not actually married, before he went. In the book of life her beloved husband’s had reached the final chapter. His medical reports didn’t get any better. The prognosis worsened as his medication got stronger. How she was going to live without him, she couldn’t yet face. At any rate, Zara was here—she and Daniel had conspired to invite her without telling their son—their goal being to reunite these two young people they considered perfect for one another. Dalton Rylance had been the one responsible for the huge shift in direction. The invitation to Coorango was to make up for lost time.
Zara rolled down the window so she could inhale the wonderfully aromatic smells of the bush. There was the king of trees, the ubiquitous gum yielding several valuable oils, as well as honey and prolific quantities of blossom in glorious colours. The wildflowers, the native boronia, the scented water lilies which floated like cargo on the surface of the innumerable lagoons. She even loved the smell of the baking fiery red earth, the silver haze of the mirage dancing amid the brilliant sunshine.
“Oh, I’ve missed this!” She gave a deeply voluptuous sigh, eyes shut tight in a kind of bliss, so she was unaware of Garrick’s intense gaze in the rear-view mirror.
“It’s been far too long, Zara.” Helen pressed the young woman’s arm. “Welcome back to Coorango. Daniel is so pleased you decided to come.”
Up front, Garrick gave a sardonic laugh. “Good of you and Dad to tell me.”
“You’re supposed to say thank you, darling.” Helen smiled. “Your father and I wanted to keep it as a big surprise.”
“Take my word for it, it was,” he said very dryly. “You could have knocked me over with a feather.”
“At least you got over the shock fairly quickly,” Zara offered sweetly and, it had to be said, provocatively.
“Just sparring, Ellie,” Garrick told his highly attentive matchmaking mother. “How’s Dad today?”
“Really looking forward to seeing you,’ Helen said. “I hope you’ve brought lots of photographs of the wedding along with all the news. You must have made a very beautiful bridesmaid, Zara.”
Zara, who wasn’t in the least vain, went a little pink. “Not as beautiful as the bride.”
“Of course not. That’s only to be expected.” Helen smiled.
“Looking glorious is nothing new for Zara, Ellie,” Garrick said with the faintest edge. Zara was wearing white—a fine cotton sleeveless shirt with white linen trousers. Her dark mane of hair was arranged in a neat coil on her nape. Her beautiful skin looked as cool and matt as a lily. Imagine that—blossoming beneath the hot Outback sun! “Miranda tossed her the bridal bouquet and, though our Zara did her level best to avoid it, it landed right on target in her arms,” he told his mother.
Zara met his burning blue eyes. “I didn’t think you noticed.”
“Oh, I did. There wasn’t a guy at the wedding who didn’t think you’d make the most glorious catch.”
“But you’re in the market yourself, my dear,” his mother pointed out with more than a touch of mischief.
“Don’t start again, Ellie,” he warned.
“By the way—” Helen abruptly sobered “—I have some news I’d better get out of the way. Sally and Nick are having problems. Thought I should mention it as they’ll be here for the Trophy.”
“That’s the polo finals?” Zara asked, at the same time registering a zap of unease at Helen’s news. The word exfiancée sprang instantly to mind.
Helen nodded. “This year they’re to be held on Coorango.” She patted Zara’s hand. “You couldn’t have come at a better time!”
Garrick cut in crisply. “I’m supposed to believe this about Sally and Nick?”
“Come on, darling,” Helen retorted smartly. “I got it right from the horse’s mouth. Josephine Forbes doesn’t get things wrong. Sally is her daughter after all.”
“But that’s terrible!” Garrick groaned. He sounded stunned. “I had no idea the marriage was in trouble. I thought they were very happy.”
“Not happy enough, apparently.” Helen sighed. “You remember Sally, don’t you, Zara?”
“Of course I do. I thought her very attractive,” she said with genuine warmth. “I’m sorry to hear they’re having problems, but I’m sure they can work things out. They haven’t been married all that long?”
Helen swallowed the word that had flashed into her head—rebound. Sally hadn’t given herself enough time to get over Garrick. She’d thought the best way to solve the tough time she was having was to marry Nick, who was one of Garrick’s closest friends. “Two years,” Helen told Zara rather wryly. “They’ll be here for the Trophy next weekend. Thought I’d better let you know sooner rather than later.”
“Spared me the trouble of having to find out myself,” Garrick said, not bothering to hide his exasperation. “God, poor old Sal!”
“A worrying time for Nick too, dear,” Helen pointed out.
“Of course. It wouldn’t do a bit of good for us to put ourselves in the middle, Ellie.” It sounded very much like a warning. “They have to work it out themselves.” He reflected for a moment, his expression serious. “Sal wanted children. Could that be a problem, do you think?”
“Scarcely a problem yet, darling,” Helen said. “A little suggestion from your mother, though. I wouldn’t find myself alone with Sally if I were you.”
Garrick pinned his mother’s eyes in the rear vision. “For God’s sake, Ellie, what is that supposed to mean?”
Helen shook her burnished head. “I don’t think you need delve too deeply, my darling. Anyway, I’ve told you and that’s the end of that!”
Even as she spoke, Helen knew full well it wasn’t.
So, incidentally, did Zara. So many lessons in life to learn from! One being—marry in haste, repent at leisure. She sincerely hoped that wasn’t going to be the case here. Yet she couldn’t help the most awful suspicion.
Zara had heard all the stories about the swashbuckling George William Rylance who had built Coorango Homestead, a twentyroom mansion, in the late eighteen-seventies. The man was a legend, an Outback icon. Such a splendid house—no matter if it was smack bang in the middle of the Never Never—had put the seal of success on the young English adventurer. The seventh son of a baronet,
