have I,’ she said brightly. ‘I’ve been working in Sri Lanka.’
He sent a quick sideways glance her way.
‘It was an amazing experience,’ she said. ‘I loved it. I spent twelve months doing voluntary work in a village on the coast.’
She looked at him expectantly, waiting for him to comment, or to tell her what he’d been doing, but he kept staring morosely ahead.
‘When I came back,’ she went on, needing to fill the uncomfortable silence, ‘I couldn’t settle into my old life in Sydney. The party-party-party scene just didn’t cut it for me any more, so I went back to Sugar Bay to stay with my mother.’
‘Sugar Bay? That’s where all the hippies squatted years ago, isn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ she said, but she sensed an underlying cynicism in Daniel’s question, so she didn’t elaborate. She certainly didn’t want to tell him what had happened when she’d gone home—her devastating discovery that her mother was almost completely crippled and in dire need of surgery.
Fern had kept silent for too long. She hadn’t wanted to tell Lily how badly her condition had deteriorated, had worried that Lily would come hurrying back from Sri Lanka too soon. Dear, silly woman.
The worst of it was that Fern had no health insurance and no money for the necessary operation, and the public hospital waiting list was up to two years long. Lily, unfortunately, had no money either, because she’d poured almost all her savings into the Sri Lankan village.
Fern had no choice but to wait in the long queue for the public health system, but by then she would be bedridden. She needed the operation now, which was why Lily felt compelled to face up to the woman who’d inherited every cent of her father’s considerable wealth.
Lily sighed again. She could never think of Marcus Halliday without feeling the sharp, painful stab of his personal rejection. She’d carried the scar since she was five years old. Too long.
Daniel drove on in silence, and Lily realised the track was curving back towards the mountain range, which meant he was taking her further and further away from the road and into the wilderness. She felt uneasy again. Where was he taking her? Where was his house?
She had no idea if he lived with a family or alone. Good grief. Her imagination kicked in, throwing up dreadful possibilities. How on earth could she escape if Daniel was dangerous? If only there had been someone at home when she’d tried to telephone Audrey. Where was Audrey? She should have been expecting her call.
On the edge of full fledged panic, Lily squeaked, ‘How far are we going?’
‘Almost there,’ Daniel muttered, and the track forked suddenly. He took a turn to the right, the track broke out of the scrub and two long, sun-drenched paddocks stretched before them. At the far end of the paddocks, against a majestic backdrop of heavily forested green mountains, a white homestead with a faded red ripple-iron roof and deep verandas sprawled in the sunshine like a sleepy dog.
Lily was buoyed on a wave of instant relief.
Tall, ancient palm trees surrounded the homestead, making it look cool, despite the shimmering noonday heat. To the right of the house, tumbledown machinery sheds were shaded by an enormous spreading cassia tree covered in massive, romantic pink blossoms.
‘Is that your house?’
He grunted yes.
‘It’s lovely.’
She meant it. Daniel’s house might not be grand or manicured, but there was something very appealing about it. She loved the way its long red roof reached protectively over the deep, shady verandas, and the way the green mountains stood on guard behind it. The circle of palms and the lovely pink cassia tree added a touch of romance. Undeniable charm. It was a setting an artist might feel an urge to paint.
Again she thought of her father. Marcus Halliday had made his fame and fortune bringing scenes like this to life on canvas.
Her lips pulled into a wry smile. Was it because of Marcus or in spite of him that the sight of Daniel’s home tugged at her heartstrings? Whatever the reason, she felt charmed by the house and surprised, after her many misgivings, that she felt instantly at home.
‘You must have been very happy to come back from your travels to such a lovely place,’ she said.
Dark colour stained Daniel’s cheekbones, and he cleared his throat. ‘The house might look good from a distance, but it’s run-down like the rest of the property.’
‘So you’ve been away for quite some time?’
He didn’t reply. Obviously he had no intention of telling her anything about himself, but she wished he would. She’d feel so much more at ease if he was more outgoing. But, then again, why should he bother? It wasn’t as if they were starting a friendship. Soon he would be dropping her into Gidgee Springs and they would never see each other again.
‘The herd’s been away on agistment.’
She realised that Daniel’s focus was somewhere else entirely. He was studying the cattle in the paddock to his right.
‘I only got this lot back last week.’ Slowing the ute, he steered with one hand and leaned an elbow out of the window. He frowned as he fixed his attention on one particular cow with a noticeably swollen abdomen and udder. She was standing apart from the herd and looked rather uncomfortable, with her back arched and her tail raised. He brought the ute to a standstill, and Lily looked at the animal with sudden fascination.
‘I need to quickly check that heifer.’
‘Is she pregnant?’
‘She’s in labour. I’ve been keeping an eye on her this morning.’ His thoughtful frown deepened. ‘Usually there’s no need to intervene, but she’s young and this is her first calf.’
Without another word, he shoved the door open and strode to the fence, pushed the top strand of the barbed wire down with one hand, and swung his long legs easily over it.
Watching him, Lily let a sigh of relief drift from her lips. Surely a man who cared about a cow in labour couldn’t be dangerous? She decided she might be safe with him after all, and her mouth twitched into a smile. How nice it would be if Daniel was as trustworthy as he was hot-looking.
He returned quite quickly.
‘I think she’s OK,’ he said as he restarted the motor. ‘But it’s a bit hard to tell—the early stages are dragging on a bit.’
The truck rattled along the last part of the track leading up to the house. As Daniel turned off the motor, he said, ‘I’m afraid it’ll have to be bread and cheese for lunch.’
‘Oh, I don’t expect you to feed me.’
He frowned. ‘Why not? Have you already eaten?’
‘No.’
He gave an impatient shake of his head. ‘Then come on. I’m going to eat, and you may as well have something. It won’t be anything flash, of course.’
‘Thank you.’ Lily
