of his eyes, about the way he threw his head back when he laughed and the air of suppressed energy he carried around with him, and happiness bubbled along her veins. Surely meeting Nat meant that she and Ross were destined for each other after all?
When Nat found her, Prue was gazing at a pyramid of tinned vegetables, her mouth curved in a dreamy smile. Her sunglasses were pushed on top of her head, drawing the tousled hair away from her face, and even in the dim old-fashioned light of the store Nat could see that her grey eyes were shining.
There had been a moment in the ute when something had tightened in the air between them, but whatever it had been it had gone now. Nat could tell just by the way Prue smiled when she saw him, a wide, open smile that said more clearly than words ever could that she might think of him as a friend, or an employer, but certainly not as a man.
Which was just as well, in the circumstances, Nat told himself.
‘You look happy,’ he said.
‘I am.’ Prue beamed at him. ‘I was just standing here, thinking about how miserable I was when I set out this afternoon. I was convinced that I would never have a chance to persuade Ross to love me, that I’d have to go home and never see him again. When that car ran out of fuel. I just sat there and bawled my eyes out,’ she confessed. ‘I was really pathetic! And then—’ she spread her hands ‘—you came along and suddenly everything is possible again.’
She looked at Nat with her frank eyes. ‘I feel as if today is going to prove to be the turning point of my whole life,’ she told him, ‘and it’s all thanks to you.’
Her face was alight with happiness, and Nat was suddenly aware of how close she was standing. She was so warm, he thought, so vibrant, so open and uncomplicated.
So in love with Ross Granger.
He stepped away from her, unsettled to realise that he didn’t want her thanks. ‘Are you ready?’ he asked curtly.
‘Yes, the boxes are by the door.’
Prue was puzzled and a little hurt by his brusqueness as they carried the boxes of groceries out to the ute. The light hit her like a blow as she stepped out of the shade of the verandah, and she couldn’t wait to hand over her box so that she could pull her sunglasses back down onto her nose.
Nat didn’t seem to notice at all. None of the men she had met wore sunglasses, relying on their hats to protect them from the glare instead, she supposed, but the corners of their eyes were always creased from years of squinting into the sun. Prue could see the fan of lines at the edge of Nat’s eyes now as he loaded the boxes into the back of the ute and covered them with a tarpaulin to keep out the dust.
Looking at those lines gave her a funny feeling inside—either that, or the sun was getting to her—and her gaze dropped to his mouth, which was set in a bleak line that made her frown slightly.
His expression was closed, shuttered even. Of course, Nat would be an unemotional man at the best of times, but he hadn’t been like this when they drove in together. She remembered how he had smiled, the look in his eyes when he had said, ‘I want someone like you.’
It was as if he had withdrawn into himself since then. As if, Prue thought slowly, her bubbling enthusiasm had made him retreat behind a barrier of impenetrable reserve. As if he didn’t like her being happy.
And why should he?
Prue felt a sickening wave of shame roll over her. She had forgotten what the trip to London was going to mean for Nat. For her, the job he had offered her meant the possibility of romance, a chance to achieve her heart’s desire. For him, it meant only the aftermath of tragedy.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said in a small voice as she got into the ute beside him.
Nat was bending to push the key into the ignition, but at her apology he straightened in surprise. ‘Sorry?’ he echoed blankly. ‘What for?’
‘I must sound absolutely heartless, wittering on about Ross and coming back to Australia when all you’re thinking about is your brother.’ Prue pulled the seatbelt around her and fastened it into place before turning contritely to Nat. ‘It’s going to be a terrible trip for you, I can see that. I wish you’d just told me to shut up,’ she said in a burst of honesty. ‘I feel awful now!’
Nat’s expression was rueful as he started the engine and pushed up the gearstick on the steering column. He hadn’t been thinking about Ed at all, he thought wryly. He had been thinking about her.
‘You mustn’t think like that,’ he said, contrite in his turn. ‘It’s the last thing Ed would have wanted, or Laura either come to that. They were both real live-wires, and they believed in deciding what you want and going for it.
‘They’d approve of you doing whatever you could to get back to Ross,’ he told Prue. ‘You don’t need to feel guilty about being happy over the fact that I need you to help me with William and Daisy. Ed would be the first person cheering you on!’
His voice was warm when he talked about his brother. ‘You must miss him,’ said Prue quietly.
Nat hesitated. He wasn’t used to discussing his feelings, but somehow it was easy to talk to Prue.
‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘I do. I miss him a lot. Ed was only a couple of years younger than me, and there were just the two of us when we were growing up. We ran Mack River together when our parents died, and then Ed met Laura, and they bought their own property. I’d got used to them not being around every day, but still…it’s hard sometimes to believe I won’t see him again.’
He wasn’t looking at Prue, but she felt her throat tighten. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again, knowing that it was inadequate, but knowing too that there was nothing else to say.
Nat’s smile was rather twisted. ‘I’m sorry too,’ he said slowly, ‘but it’s William and Daisy who matter now. I’ve got to think about them, not Ed, and that’s what I’m going to do.’
When they got back to Prue’s car, they transferred the groceries into the back, and then Nat took the can of fuel he had bought and poured it carefully into the tank. He had brushed aside Prue’s attempts to pay and she watched him, feeling helpless and more than a little disconcerted to discover how easy it was to accept being looked after by someone so competent.
It was difficult to imagine that barely two hours ago she had had trouble remembering his name. Already there was something very familiar about him. How much more familiar would he be after they’d spent almost a month together in London?
The thought was vaguely disconcerting, and Prue frowned. It wasn’t as if they were going to be intimate, she reassured herself. It was just a job like any other. And Nat was hardly likely to show any interest in her, was he?
Even if she hadn’t been in love with Ross, she would have little to appeal to a man like Nat. He was quite a bit older than her, for a start, and to him she probably seemed very young and very silly. Correction, thought Prue, cringing inwardly as she remembered some of the things she had said: she must definitely seem very young and very silly.
Anyway, Nat himself had sounded far from over his broken engagement. Prue couldn’t help wondering what Kathryn was like. What kind of woman could break through that quiet self-containment and unlock his reserve? She must be quite special, Prue decided.
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