Hardly anyone in the district knew he’d come home.
Still treading water, he shaded his eyes. The young woman was standing at the very edge of the water, leaning as far out as she dared and peering at him. Beneath her big floppy sunhat she wore a sleeveless white T-shirt that left her midriff bare and blue floral shorts and sandals. A woven straw bag hung from her shoulder.
A tourist. Not a local.
He didn’t welcome any intrusion, but at least a stranger would be easier to deal with than someone who knew him. A local would be suspicious or curious, and Daniel wasn’t ready to deal with either reaction.
‘What are you doing on my property?’ he growled.
‘Car trouble, I’m afraid.’
Great. A city chick with car trouble. He released a deep, weary sigh.
A million years ago he might have considered a young woman with a broken-down vehicle a pleasant diversion. But his days of trying to impress women were long gone. These days he just wanted—no, he needed—to be left alone.
A year and a half on a prison farm tended to do that to a man. It robbed him of do-good urges. It had almost robbed Daniel of the will to get out of bed in the morning. What was the point in trying?
‘I’m sorry, but can you help me?’
She was leaning so far out over the water she looked as if she was about to dive in and swim to him.
‘Hang on!’ It was a bark rather than a reply. This was a cattle property, not a bloody service station. But he struck out, swimming towards her in an easy freestyle. When he neared the shallows he stopped and stood in hip-deep water, his feet sinking into the weedy bottom.
The stranger on the riverbank was well disguised by her huge straw hat, but he caught a glimpse of light-coloured hair tied back or tucked up somehow. Apart from the snug fit of her blue floral shorts, she had a schoolmarmish air about her. Serious and anxious.
And yet…He could feel her studying him with frank interest. Her mouth flowered into an open pink O as she took in details of his bare torso.
‘What’s the problem?’ he asked.
She gulped, and said a little breathlessly, ‘I—I’m afraid I’ve r-run out of fuel.’
Immediately a bright blush flooded her neck and cheeks.
‘I know it was stupid of me, and I’m so sorry to trouble you, but I don’t know what to do.’ Her hands flapped in a gesture of helplessness. ‘I tried to ring the only person I know around here, but there doesn’t seem to be anyone home, even though they were expecting me. I managed to coast down the side of the mountain, but then my car conked out at the bottom. I saw your gate and your mail box and so I turned in here, and your ute was on the track back there, and I—’
‘Whoa,’ cried Daniel. ‘I get the picture. You want enough fuel to get you into town.’
Her face broke into an amazing smile. ‘Yes.’ She beamed at him as if he’d offered to fly her straight to Sydney in a Lear jet. ‘If you could spare some fuel that would be wonderful.’ Her warm smile lingered as she stood there. ‘You’re—you’re—very—kind.’
Kind? A jaded half-laugh broke from him. It had been too long since anyone had called Daniel Renton kind—especially a young woman—and it had been even longer since a woman had stared at him with such obvious interest.
She continued to stand there, looking at him.
‘We’ll both be embarrassed if you don’t turn your back while I get out of the water,’ he said dryly.
‘Turn my back? Oh. Oh…You’re naked. Sorry.’
However, she didn’t sound especially sorry, and she took her time turning, holding the brim of her hat close to her head with both hands.
‘You’re safe enough now,’ she called, and her voice was warm with the hint of yet another smile. ‘My hat makes great blinkers, and I promise I won’t look till you say so.’
Mildly surprised that she’d stood her ground rather than make a nervous dash for the nearest patch of thick scrub, Daniel left the water quickly and hauled on his jeans without any attempt to dry himself.
‘All clear,’ he said gruffly.
She let go of the hat-brim and turned back to him, pink and smiling again—or perhaps still pink and smiling—and she watched with continued interest as he shook his head from side to side and flicked water droplets from his thick dark hair.
‘I’m sorry. I’m being a nuisance.’
He shrugged. ‘I was just taking a break. But I don’t have a lot of time.’
Reaching down for his blue cotton shirt, he retrieved his watch from the front pocket and checked the time before slipping the watch onto his wrist. It was lunchtime and his stomach was rumbling.
‘Where’s your car?’
‘Out on the road.’
‘Not in the middle of the road?’
‘No. I’m silly, but not totally brainless. I managed to push it well off the road. It’s under a tree. I guess it’s about five-hundred metres from your front gate.’
‘What sort of vehicle?’
‘A Corolla.’
‘So you need petrol?’ He bit off a curse.
‘Well…yes. I told you I’ve run out.’
Daniel grimaced.
‘Is that a problem?’
‘I only use diesel.’
‘Oh.’ Two neat white teeth worried her lower lip.
‘I guess I’ll have to give you a lift into Gidgee Springs.’ He knew he should have said this more graciously, but a trip into the nearest township would mean exposing himself to the questioning glances of prying locals.
‘I don’t want to put you to that much bother,’ she said, obviously sensing his reluctance. ‘If you have a telephone book I could ring a service station in Gidgee Springs. They should be able to send a can of petrol out here.’
‘On a Sunday? You’ve got to be joking.’ Daniel let out a hoot of laughter. ‘I’ll give you a lift, but you’ll have to wait. I’m going to grab a bite to eat first.’
‘By all means. Yes, you must have your lunch.’
After pulling on elastic-sided riding boots and shrugging into his shirt, he began to make his way through the scrub to the track where he’d left the ute, doing up shirt buttons as he went. The woman, ducking branches heavy with golden wattle, hurried to keep up.
‘By the way, my name’s Lily,’ she said to his back. ‘Lily Halliday.’
‘Daniel,’
