‘If you feel like that about her, why didn’t you keep her in England?’ asked Gray.
‘Because Pippa made me promise that I would take her to her father,’ said Clare, turning in her seat to look at him. ‘And because, deep down, I think it would be better for Alice to be here with him. I couldn’t afford the childcare which I’d need if I wanted to look after her the way Pippa would want and continue to do my job.’
‘You could give up your job,’ he suggested with a cool look.
‘And live on what? Pippa never had a chance to make any financial provision for Alice, and I’ve used up all the savings I had. I love my flat, but it’s tiny. It’s OK for a baby, but it would be hopeless for a toddler, and there’s no garden, and I don’t see how I could afford to move unless I kept my job, which takes me back to square one.’
Clare sighed. ‘Believe me, I have thought about it! It’s going to break my heart to say goodbye to Alice,’ she said, stroking the sleeping baby’s head, ‘but I have to think about what’s best for her. I wouldn’t have brought her all the way out here unless I thought that the best thing for her was to be with her father.’
‘And if Jack doesn’t accept that she’s his daughter?’
‘Then I’ll think again,’ said Clare. ‘But I think he will, and so do you.’
Gray’s brown eyes rested briefly on her face. ‘Do I?’
‘I don’t believe you would have agreed to let us come anywhere near Bushman’s Creek if you didn’t think that Jack was Alice’s father,’ she told him. ‘I’m right, aren’t I?’
Gray didn’t answer immediately. His gaze dropped to Alice, and then returned to the instrument panel. ‘She looks like Jack,’ he admitted after a moment. ‘She’s got the same eyes, the same sort of look about her.
‘I was away the time you said your sister was working at Bushman’s Creek, so it could have happened the way you said,’ he went on, as if justifying his instinct to himself. ‘And Jack’s been different since then. He always used to be very laid-back, but if he felt strongly about your sister and she left, that might explain why he’s been moody and restless for the last year or so.’
‘Didn’t you ever try asking him what was wrong?’ asked Clare.
‘Jack’s a grown man, not a kid,’ said Gray repressively. ‘If he had wanted to tell me what the matter was, he would have.’
Exasperated at the typically male response to any suggestion that they might discuss anything even vaguely connected to emotions, Clare rolled her eyes. ‘He might just have needed you to show some interest!’
At least she had the satisfaction of provoking a reaction from Gray. His mouth tightened and the glance he gave her was distinctly unfriendly. ‘I know Jack a whole lot better than you do,’ he said in a curt voice. ‘I would have expected him to have at least mentioned your sister when I came back, and the fact that he didn’t means that I’m not prepared to make any commitment on his behalf. As far as I’m concerned, Alice is your niece, and not mine, and until such time as Jack comes home and can decide for himself, you are just a housekeeper. Is that understood?’
Clare put up her chin. ‘Perfectly,’ she said.
The propeller droned remorselessly on, but inside the cabin there was a tense silence. At least, Clare felt tense. Gray looked exactly the same. He was relaxed in his seat, his hands steady on the joystick, and she eyed him resentfully.
Just a housekeeper. She wasn’t sure why the comment had ruffled her. If she had to spend weeks stuck out in the middle of nowhere, she would much rather have something to do, even if it was just cooking and cleaning. Still, there was no need for Gray to make it quite so clear that he thought that was all she was good for, was there?
Why did he need a housekeeper, anyway? He obviously wasn’t a romantic type, and she would have thought he would have married long ago, if only to sort out his domestic arrangements. He must be nearly forty, Clare decided, studying him from under her lashes. Surely he could have found someone to marry him? It wasn’t as if he was bad-looking either, if you liked the rugged, outdoor type. His features were too irregular to be handsome, but his skin was weathered brown by the sun, and his eyes were very creased at the corners, as if he had spent long years squinting at a far horizon.
Clare’s gaze travelled speculatively over the planes of his face to rest on his mouth. Nothing particularly special about his mouth either, she told herself, but then she remembered how he had looked when he had smiled, and something stirred strangely inside her, and she jerked her eyes away to stare out of the side window, as if fascinated after all by the view.
To her annoyance, the image of Gray smiling seemed to be burnt on her vision, shimmering between her and the aching blueness of the sky no matter how hard she tried to blink it away. She might as well have been staring straight at him, Clare thought crossly.
By the time she had managed to focus on the land below, she saw that the flat expanse of scrub had given way to a range of rocky hills. The little plane climbed over them and dropped down the other side.
‘Are we almost there?’ she asked hopefully.
‘Not yet, but we’re over Bushman’s Creek land now.’
To Clare’s consternation, Gray dipped the nose and let the plane drop until it was barely skimming the top of the spindly gum trees. ‘What are you doing?’ she squeaked, clutching at Alice.
‘Just having a look,’ he said casually, as if it were the most normal thing in the world to take a nose-dive into the bush.
‘What on earth for?’ said Clare, annoyed to find that her voice was still high and squeaky with alarm.
‘I want to see how many cattle are up here. There are always a few that get away from the mob when we muster.’
‘Oh, we’re looking for cows?’ she muttered sarcastically. ‘Great!’
Gray ignored her, banking the plane and swooping low over the trees. His hands were completely steady, and he seemed so in control that insensibly Clare began to relax and look around her.
At this level the featureless brown expanse resolved itself into dry, reddish earth out of which grew tussocks of grass, scrubby silver-barked gums and the occasional boab tree with its odd swollen trunk. Every now and then, a small group of cattle would blunder away at the sound of the plane, leaving clouds of dust to settle behind them, and Clare spotted several wallabies bounding effortlessly between the trees and the towering termite mounds.
‘See how much more there is to see down here?’ Gray asked as they dipped down over a spectacular rocky outcrop.
Clare was unimpressed. ‘It’s still not exactly teeming with excitement, is it?’
‘I guess that depends what you find exciting,’ he said. There was a faint undercurrent of amusement in his voice, and Clare looked at him suspiciously. ‘What does it take to excite you?’ he added with a sidelong glance.
His face was perfectly straight, but she was sure that he was laughing at her. Lifting her chin in an unconsciously haughty gesture, she met his eyes defiantly.
‘More
