stared down at the dust being raised by a mob of cattle as they were moved along by horsemen.
‘Do you only muster by horseback?’ she asked. ‘I thought most of it was done by chopper these days.’
‘Used to be, for a time, but the ringer’s coming back into fashion nowadays. You can’t educate a bunch of cows from a chopper.’
‘Does that mean you’ll be out of a job?’ He’d already told her he piloted a Bell 45 helicopter too.
‘Nope! We work in conjunction. Choppers still have their uses in really difficult terrain and for moving large mobs. OK, here we go.’
He set the light plane down on a grass airstrip in what looked like the middle of nowhere until a large shed came into view.
Lydia emerged as the dust settled. She breathed deeply and looked around. Tim had confided that being a vet did not necessarily confer any special status on a member of this mustering team. They did most of their vet work themselves, and how you rode and handled cattle was the prime consideration—although some of the bigger stations did employ vets as vets.
She’d found this amusing, because he’d also told her that Katerina Station covered a million acres. What was big if not that? she’d pondered. But he’d gone on to say that once they’d realised you knew what you were talking about and doing, you’d find them deferring to you. So, she would have to prove herself first, she reflected. It would be a nice kind of challenge.
She turned as she heard a vehicle approaching, expecting either Sarah or Rolf Simpson. But as another cloud of dust started to subside as it skidded to a stop beside her, a pale gold Labrador dog leapt off the back of the battered utility and raced towards her, only to sit down in front of her and extend a paw.
‘Hello!’ Lydia squatted down in front of the dog and shook the paw gravely. ‘And who might you be? I have to tell you I think you’re gorgeous, and so well-mannered.’
The dog grinned widely and a voice above Lydia said, ‘Glad you approve of my dog. OK, Meg, back in the ute.’
Meg obeyed, but not before giving the owner of the voice a loving lick as he put his hand down to her.
Lydia straightened dazedly. Because there was no mistaking that voice, nor any chance of mistaking the tall man standing in front of her, although he looked so different from the last time she’d seen him.
‘What the hell are you doing here?’ It came out before she could help herself as she took in the stained, dusty clothes he wore and the battered felt cowboy hat he dangled—none of which diminished the impact of that ‘well-knit’ tall body and ‘interesting’ face beneath his brown hair…
‘Good morning to you, Miss Lydia Kelso—or rather Mrs,’ Joe Jordan drawled, and leant casually against the bonnet of the vehicle as he allowed his hazel gaze to run over the olive-green stretch moleskins and cream shirt she wore with a sleeveless quilted olive vest and brown boots. Her hair was tousled, but he couldn’t imagine it any other way, he found himself thinking, and it was a gloriously free head of hair, that framed those delicate features admirably.
Lydia, on the other hand, shook her tousled head and looked around, blinking experimentally. ‘Am I on Katerina Station in the Northern Territory run by the Simpson family, or have I been kidnapped?’ she queried.
‘Not at all—’
‘So how did you get here from Balmain?’
‘As I was about to explain, Sarah Simpson is my sister,’ he said mildly.
‘You’re the brother who owns half of the place?’ Lydia stared at him incredulously.
‘None other. I don’t usually trade on it,’ he added modestly, ‘but after you left me the other day, I suddenly thought to myself—Didn’t Rolf let me know that Tim had to go away for six weeks but he’d found someone to take his place who also happened to be a vet? My next thought was that it would be an interesting coincidence should you be the person replacing him.’
‘I’m speechless,’ Lydia said, in a parody of what he’d said to her three days ago.
Joe Jordan straightened. ‘You weren’t exactly speechless the other day.’
Lydia gestured futilely. ‘So what are you doing here now?’
‘Decided to come up for a bit of R&R at the same time as I check out how the new vet handles herself, amongst other things.’
Lydia muttered something beneath her breath.
‘That doesn’t recommend itself to you?’ he asked, with the most wicked spark of mischief in his eyes.
‘No, it does not. You’re the last person I want peering over my shoulder all the time!’
‘Now why would that be?’ he asked ingenuously. ‘I thought anything taking me out of reach of your sister would meet with your approval.’
Lydia stared at him. ‘Because the circumstances in which we met were not exactly auspicious,’ she said deliberately. ‘And did you just walk out on my sister?’
His eyes glinted with irony now. ‘As a matter of fact, no. I told her that I had to be out of town for a while.’
‘Was she devastated?’ Lydia demanded.
‘If so she gave no hint of it. I had actually prepared a sort of—not exactly farewell address, but a letting-down-lightly kind of thing, as you so thoughtfully recommended—only it never got said because she took the words right out of my mouth. She said that she thought it would be an excellent idea if we had a bit of a break from each other.’
Lydia digested this, then swore beneath her breath this time.
‘Which indicated to me,’ Joe Jordan said, with a wryly raised eyebrow, ‘that she’s losing interest in me and the idea of me fathering her child.’
No, she’s not, she’s playing hard to get!
Lydia didn’t say it, she bit the words off on the tip of her tongue, but she experienced a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach that generally indicated she was right about her lovely sister Daisy’s state of mind.
‘I can’t believe this,’ she said instead. ‘I was really looking forward to this experience.’
He frowned. ‘Surely my simple presence couldn’t provide that much of a blight?’
‘Your presence is not simple at all,’ she retorted.
He stared at her thoughtfully. ‘Does that mean you were rather intrigued about me, as I discovered I was about you, dear Lydia?’ he queried.
She’d never been a blusher, but she undoubtedly coloured. She could feel the heat of it beneath the smooth skin of her cheeks and down her neck, all of which he noted with a flicker of amusement twisting his lips.
It was his amusement that got her going again, when she really would have loved to crawl into a handy hole to hide. ‘How could you—apart from anything else—transfer from one sister to another just like…clicking your fingers?’ She demonstrated, and
