the stupid thing out? Anna had left him five months ago, never once tried to contact him, and threw him out every time he went to her little house on the edge of Broome township—he knew from the first moment she’d go there; she loved the place. She’d even wanted to go there for their honeymoon instead of the six weeks in Europe he’d booked. He’d always promised to take her there for a week—one day.
Well, she had her way at last.
Last time he’d flown down to Broome, she hadn’t even let him in the door. She’d handed him signed papers of legal separation, and said, ‘Leave me alone, Jared. If you bother me again I’ll file a restraining order.’ Her eyes, soft, light brown and as gentle as a doe’s in a sweet pixie face, had been filled with inflexible resolution. Then she’d closed the door in his face.
But how could he accept it was over when he didn’t know why? Her note might as well be gibberish for all the sense it made. They’d had a fantastic life together, and they could have everything they’d lost—happiness, Jarndirri, and kids. He had it all planned out. He just had to bring her home.
When Adam had died…his beautiful son…he’d wanted to die too. But when Anna had woken up from the operation to the news that her uterus had split beyond repair—the cause of Adam’s death, and her collapse within hours—and she’d had an emergency hysterectomy, his loving, perfect wife had gone away. She’d turned from everyone close to her, especially him and Lea. Sapphie, the only one she talked to, wouldn’t tell him what Anna was saying or feeling.
‘Ask her yourself, Jared,’ was all she said. ‘Talk to her.’
But Anna refused to talk to him. He understood how hard it was on her, but he refused to give up hope. After months of research, he’d found a way for them to have the kids they longed for. He had it all planned. He’d been waiting for her to heal before he brought it up.
But despite everything he’d tried, Anna hadn’t healed. She’d walked out on him, on their life—on everything.
Everything felt wrong without Anna. No matter what was stated on the deed of ownership, Anna was The Curran, the fourth generation of the Curran dynasty on Jarndirri. Without her he felt as if he was fumbling around the station, working at all that was familiar and loved in darkness so dense he couldn’t see through it. He felt like an interloper in the only life he’d always wanted, the only dream he’d ever had.
Without Anna, he was nothing but a fraud—just as his father had been—
Don’t go there. But every day since she’d left, he seemed to have lost control even over his mind. The memory came day and night…
Jared shuddered. At fourteen, he’d had the last day of his childhood—and his last day as a West. He’d become a Curran even before the funeral. It seemed his mother couldn’t give him away fast enough—but at least she’d given him to the Currans.
In a world where one wrong word could tear his world apart, the Currans had made everything right. He’d lost his father, but in Bryce Curran he’d found a strong working man of the land, a man in whom he could be proud to be called son. He’d lost his brothers and sisters, but in Lea he’d had the straight-talking, gruffly affectionate sister of his heart.
And in Anna…he’d found his destiny.
Anna made his life work. With a smile, a touch, she banished the ugly demons to the furthest corner of his mind. With Anna by his side he was The Curran, the man chosen to continue the proud traditions of the famed Jarndirri clan. He was strong, he could do anything.
But now she was gone, who was he? What was he?
He folded the letter, returning it to his pocket. It was almost nightfall; there were another fifteen jobs to do before Mrs Button would serve the dinner. So why was he hanging around the house, an hour before he needed to?
There was only one answer—he was waiting to hear the phone ring, on this of all days. It would have been Adam’s first birthday today. God help him, he could see his son’s face as he crawled or toddled after him—swinging Adam on his hip, putting him on his first pony or patting the cows…
He needed Anna to come home. She had to come back to him. Jarndirri was their heart and soul. They’d first kissed here, become engaged here, even married here. And this hour before sunset had always been ‘their’ time of the day, when they’d worked together, talked before dinner—or made love in the shower.
A gravelled curse tore from his throat. He slammed his Akubra on his head, and strode out the door. His personal ghost followed him with soft words his straining ears could almost hear.
‘Dinner’s in an hour, Jared. Can I help you with anything? Or is it time for a shower? You do look…sweaty,’ she’d say, with that sweet, naughty smile of hers.
‘Stop haunting me,’ he muttered as he stalked down the stairs, flung himself onto his motorbike and revved it up hard. The men were at dinner. He wouldn’t call for help he didn’t need. There were no actual fences on Jarndirri, like every other property in the Kimberley—how could you fence a single property that was the size of the whole of modern London?—but he needed to make sure the cattle were close to the few fenced-in paddocks, safe within the unseen bounds of his kingdom. The wide-wandering livestock had to be made secure before the bucketing-down rain came, any day, any hour now, and the creeks became rivers, the rivers became torrential seas and valuable animals were caught in the swelling waters and drowned.
‘Mr West, Mr West!’
He called to the cook-housekeeper, ‘What is it, Ellie?’ He kept his tone neutral. It wasn’t her fault her voice grated on him. Any woman’s voice but Anna’s did that these days. Even Lea’s voice got to him…especially Lea’s voice. It wasn’t fair, he knew; she was trying so hard to be fair to them both; but he could barely stand being civil. She sounded so much like—
He blinked and wheeled around, facing Ellie Button. ‘What did you say?’ The engine must be running too loud, or he was hallucinating. He couldn’t have heard—
‘Mrs West is on the phone. She needs to talk to you. It sounds—urgent.’
An hour later
‘Hell, Jared, this isn’t a joke! You’re flying fifty knots over the legal limit. You might be the best pilot in the Kimberleys, but there’s laws for a reason. You gotta slow down, mate, or you’ll kill yourself!’
When Jared ignored the frantic yells of one of four local air traffic controllers in the region, Tom growled, ‘Right, that’s it. I’ve cleared the airspace around you so you don’t kill anyone else—but I’m callin’ Bill, and lettin’ him deal with you when you get into Broome. But don’t hit the tower ’cause I’m in it, and if I survive I’ll kill you myself!’
Bring it on. Jared grinned in pure challenge. Nothing short of that lightning strike was stopping him from getting to Broome, to Anna. He knew Tom was right—the first storm of the season was about to hit, and he was flying right into the danger zone. But after five long, empty months Anna had called him at last. After a year of waiting, she’d finally sounded alive, and he was bringing her home before she changed her mind.
‘Right-oh, Jared, you want to be an idiot? You want trouble, mate, you got it,’ Tom screamed. ‘Bill’ll be waitin’ for you at the airport. You’re doin’ a night in lock-up, and facin’ multiple charges, unless
