Lily's Leap (5 page)

He took a measured pace forward and she spun around dropping Nero’s reins. He reached out, his hands clasped her upper arms and he pulled her roughly to her feet as a look of terror marred her face. Her fingers bit into his muscles with surprising force as she clutched for balance and the familiar shiver of desire swept through him. He dragged her closer to his chest and was surrounded by the hot, sweet fragrance of her damp skin.

Strange… it felt so right.
A need to envelop and protected her overcame him. The rhythmic rise and fall of her chest pushed against him and then the spell was broken when she pushed him away. “What in God’s name did you think you were doing?” Rage pushed through him. “You could have killed yourself, never mind what might have happened to the horse. Are you mad?” The words were harsh and ruthless at odds with his befuddled emotions. A sudden breeze whipped her mahogany curls behind her like a pennant in the wind.

“No, I am not mad.” Her leather-clad foot stamped on the dry earth of the track sending up a fine cloud of dust. “I told you before you needn’t worry about my capabilities as a rider.”

“I’m not worried about your capabilities.” He bit back his fury which was building like the storm clouds appearing in the sky. “I am concerned for your safety and that of the horses. You are worth money to me.” Her wide eyes filled with tears and Tom regretted the words as soon as he spoke.

Her chin lifted, her cheekbones standing in stark relief against the pallor of her flawless skin. “That’s pretty much all I am worth to anyone, isn’t it? Money. Just a bag of gold to whoever lays claim to me. A cash cow.”

****

Lily spun around in the soft creek sand, blinded by the tears pooling in her eyes.

She’d failed.

The terrifying ride had been for nothing and he was right. She had jeopardized Nero, run the risk of sending him to the knacker’s yard and all for nothing. She shuddered and a deep sob worked its way up from her chest as she stumbled away.

The sudden warmth of a hand on her shoulder stopped her. She closed her eyes and hesitated. Somehow his hand offered consolation and perhaps an invitation. He towered above her as he backed her against the smooth bark of a spotted gum and turned her to face him. Her body stilled as he trailed a finger down the swell of her cheek, and traced the path of her tear to her throat and slowly onward to the swell of her breast.

He leaned into her and her back arched. Her hips pushed into him and her skin prickled as his hand cupped the back of her head and his fingers laced through her hair, drawing her the short distance to his body. His tongue traced her tear with a touch as delicate as the wisp of breeze across the creek. Her madcap ride faded into insignificance as the erratic rhythm of her heart thrummed through her blood.

He eased his knee between her legs, and lifted her until she straddled his muscled thigh. His hands left a smoldering trail as they roamed with tortuous slowness over her body. Then he cupped her buttocks with his strong hands and lifted her closer to him. She trailed kisses across his face and his lips, her tongue licking and flicking his salty skin. Panting, wanting, aching, she pushed against him with no thought other than the desire to sink into his warmth and return his passionate kisses.

A rush of air cooled her heated skin as he pulled away from her, his breath coming in heavy gasps.

Coal black eyes blazed into hers. “You will stay with me, safe, until your father’s man returns even if I have to tether you to me.”

Shaking, she turned away from him and stumbled toward Nero, refusing to permit herself a backward glance.

What a fool. To think she could outride a bushranger and outwit a man who made his living stealing. A convict, a sentenced man. He mustn’t know of her foolishness. She mustn’t let him see his hold over her.

“I can think of nothing I would like less than to be tied to you in anyway.” She spat the words over her shoulder at him.

“So next time you won’t ride quite so willingly?”

She wanted to strike out at his arrogant raised eyebrow and the insinuation he left floating in the humid air. “I ride with you under sufferance. It is not of my choosing.” The depth of her lie settled in her aching breast. At that moment she would have ridden with him to the ends of the earth if he had asked, but she would never admit it to him. He would never hear it from her lips.

The heat rose in her cheeks as she remembered her wanton response; surely her behavior had been caused by shock and the danger of her ride. She was weak and breathless for want of food and sleep…nothing else. Soon everything would return to normal. She would feel quite ordinary again–everything would be as it should be. She threw her arms around Nero’s neck and buried her face in his familiar warmth.

Ordinary and normal
. There was nothing ordinary and normal about the situation she’d landed herself in.

Chapter 3

“Lily. Lily.”

She turned at the security of Bonnie’s voice, relieved at something, anything to take her mind off her dilemma.

“I’m here, Bonnie.” Her skin crawled, every nerve shrieking as Tom’s gaze bored into her back. She refused to turn and look at him. Pulling her shoulders straight she forced a mask of impartial detachment on her face and waited patiently for Bonnie to appear. Nero’s reins were handed to her but still she refused to acknowledge the bushranger. She spun her heels in the dirt and walked Nero down the track, back the way she’d ridden only minutes before when she had only freedom on her mind.

What a difference a few moments could make. Her euphoria had evaporated like the morning mist and the hollow shell of despondency and failure clung to her. She had failed to make good her escape. And she had about as much success controlling her emotions as she had controlling Nero during her reckless dash for freedom.

“Oh my God, Lily, are you sure you are alright?” Bonnie threw her leg over the pommel of her saddle, dismounted and covered the distance between them in three quick strides.
 

Lily collapsed against the warmth of Bonnie’s body and the tears she held back finally coursed down her face “Yes I’m fine,” she hiccoughed. “I’m sorry I didn’t have time to warn you. I acted on the spur of the moment.” She kept her voice low and glanced across at Tom. “I thought I could make it to Laguna and get help.” She lifted her head and wiped her hand over her sodden face. “I stopped to get my bearings and a drink for Nero. I didn’t think he’d be on my tail so quickly.”

Bonnie pushed her away slightly and stared at her.
 

Lily closed her eyes, hoping against hope her friend wouldn’t be able to read the confusion and disappointment she knew was all too visible. “We’ll just have to go along with them for now and see what transpires when we reach the Common.”

Bonnie patted her cheek. “If you’re planning to pull any more stunts see if you can find the time to let me know, perhaps I might have more chance of surviving the drama.”

“If you two ladies” Tom’s pause invested the word with such contempt she almost shied away like an unbroken horse “–have finished your
tête-à-tête
, I’d like to get back on the road. We have a distance to go before nightfall.”

Lily eased herself into the saddle and noticed Jem had slipped a long lead road through Nero’s bridle and tied the other end firmly to the pommel of his saddle. She half-heartedly wondered if he’d known what she was planning. She shrugged her tired shoulders. It didn’t matter now, it was too late and if the lead rope meant she would be riding with Jem and not Tom it wasn’t such a bad thing. Anything to keep a respectable distance between them and control her wanton behavior.

They took up the familiar travelling pattern, only the places were reversed and Lily trailed along like a recalcitrant ass at the back of the group. She muttered to herself, drawing strength from the accumulated anger ricocheting around her gut. Obviously escape, no matter how daring or how ill-conceived, wasn’t an option. Her foolish attempt had proved it. There had to be another way she could get around the situation. Getting the horses to Sydney was her first priority and if somewhere along the way she could manage to race Nero she could still accomplish all she set out to do.

There was little possibility of her father coming up with the ransom money. Poor old George was probably at this very moment on the receiving end of her father’s brandy soaked rage. She just hoped it wouldn’t be too awful for him. She knew she’d been reckless but she tried to reassure herself
–
nothing ventured, nothing gained. She had done her best.

The afternoon wore on and Lily’s anger gradually subsided as the terrain leveled out. They passed along the river flats and a herd of shiny black cattle idly grazed in the shade of the huge gum trees.

Being led, forced into this chain gang line-up, gave her time to think. Her gaze alternated between the surrounding countryside and Jem’s muscled back as he rode with a casual lack of convention. There had to be some way of getting around the situation. Escape was out of the question, something she’d already tried. She could wait patiently and demurely until George arrived with the ransom, however, she’d stake her life on him returning without it–if indeed he returned at all.

She took her hat off and wiped her hair back from her brow and ran her hand over the top of her head in an attempt to loosen sweaty tangle at the back of her neck. Her fingers caught in the remains of the purple vine she’d tied there a lifetime ago.

What had he said?
It suited her, brought out the color in her eyes. The blood rushed to her face and she clamped her hat back on her head as a plan began to take shape. If he found her attractive perhaps there was a way she could use it to her advantage? Clearly he already thought her a trollop after her unrestrained display by the creek so what did she have to lose? Her mother’s smiling face sprang to mind. What had she called it? Using her feminine wiles. She tipped her head to one side and twirled the intricate gold ring around her finger. If–just if–Tom found her attractive perhaps he’d lower his guard again or maybe she could get him to see her side of the argument and convince him it was far more important to get the horses to Sydney than provide his motley crew with decent horseflesh. She could even offer to pay the ransom herself from her inheritance once the shipment had made it to Sydney. Excitement caught in her throat–then she could still race Nero at Windsor.

****

Tom knew this area well. He’d long forgotten the number of times he and the boys had taken this path. Never exactly the same way because the last thing they wanted to do was leave a trail in the fragile landscape, far better to zigzag their way along and across the wallaby tracks until they crossed the Great North Road. They were running parallel to the river and he intended to pick up the track onto the Common in about a mile.

He squinted up at the sun and shook his head. He might just name the spot Lily’s Leap. They’d made good time yesterday, despite the theatrics on the road. She was certainly a handful, a handful he’d more than like to take on. It would be a bit easier to keep her under control at the Common, there wasn’t anywhere she could run to, and without any knowledge of the area she’d find escape impossible. His stomach rumbled reminding him just how long it had been since they had a decent meal. Hopefully old Pete would have got the word and have things sorted at the camp.

The wisp of smoke drifting in a lazy cloud above the treetops proved him right as he lifted the pace and led the small party to the security of the small hidden valley. The simple slab homestead weathered silver by the elements stood under the towering hillside. Tom breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted Pete leaning against the fence of the holding yard and raised his hat in acknowledgement when Pete dropped the slip rails to allow the horses to enter.

****

When Lily slid from Nero’s back, her legs buckled. For the first time in her life she was relieved to be out of the saddle. She breathed deeply, determined to overcome the waves of fatigue washing over her as she labored to force one foot in front of the other. She yearned for the familiar comfort of Wordsworth and the simple pleasure of throwing Nero’s reins to a stable boy and walking away to a long hot bath and a decent meal. Her stomach grumbled with hunger.

“Here. Give him to me.” She looked up into pale eyes and a wrinkled face. The old man was tall and wiry with bleached flyaway hair escaping from beneath a battered hat.

“Thanks, Pete. Come with me, ladies. I’ll show you to your sleeping quarters.”
 

Jumping at the sound of Tom’s voice behind her, she realized how it lacked the slow Australian cadence of the old man. Tom was an enigma. His speech and mannerisms hinted at a cultured upbringing, yet his companions and knowledge of the bush were those of a vagrant.