Outback Bachelor (9 page)

Rachelle was out of the vehicle with the speed of a rocket being fired. She was dressed in a cream silk shirt and jodhpurs, riding boots on her feet when it was well known Rachelle didn’t particularly enjoy riding, though she was competent, as expected of a McGovern.

“What are you doing here?” Rachelle whipped off her big black designer sunglasses.

“I wonder you ask, Rachelle,” Skye managed a quiet answer. “My mother is buried here.”

“Highly unusual, I’d say.” There were shadows under Rachelle’s fine dark eyes. She looked faintly ill and nerve-ridden. Yet even in the tranquillity of the graveyard, with her father laid to rest not far away, Rachelle couldn’t rein in her dislike and resentment.

“You should speak to your grandmother some time,” Skye suggested. “She was very fond of my mother. My mother could only have been buried here with her approval.”

“It’s all seriously odd,” Rachelle said, a vein throbbing in her temple. “That’s all I can say. Your mother should be all but forgotten.
You
didn’t know her. We were only little kids when she died yet we can’t seem to get rid of her. Or
you
either.”

Skye gave the other woman a saddened look. “Why do you hate me so much, Rachelle?”

Rachelle looked back with huge disbelief. “You don’t know?” she hooted. “You robbed me of my brother for years and years of my life.”

“No.”

“You
did
.”

“Maybe he saw
you
weren’t going to be my friend?”

“
Please!
You could never be numbered among my friends.”

“Where
are
all your friends, Rachelle?” Skye retorted, suddenly firing up. “You didn’t have any at school. I’m fairly modest by nature but you might recall
I
did. I was also head girl in my final year.”

“How impressive!” Rachelle sneered. “Who knows why Gran wanted you there in the first place. I guess she had to be fond of your mother. Who was she anyway? Over twenty years have gone by and Gran won’t say a word about her.”

Wasn’t that the truth! “You surely must know if she was a relative? One of Lady McGovern’s relatives in England?” Skye challenged, so desperate for clues she would ask even Rachelle.

Rachelle’s outraged expression rejected that. “I’d have a heart attack if I thought you and I were related,” she snapped off. “Your mother was just some stray Gran befriended. I don’t know from where. Like I care!”

“But you
do
care.”

It had got to the stage where they all cared. “Nonsense!” Rachelle’s cry was a near shriek. “You’re the bane of my life, Skye McCory.”

“Sounds like you should get a life,” Skye advised, turning away.

“Keefe might have loved you when we were kids,” Rachelle called after her. “But he doesn’t love you now.
You’ll
never get him. That’s what he told me, I swear. Though I expect that cuts your heart to ribbons. You love him. Don’t think I’m a fool. You’ve always loved him. But nothing will ever happen between you and him. Keefe has his life planned differently. He’s way out of your league.”

Skye had to wait until the initial shock had worn off. “Where did you learn to be such a terrible snob, Rachelle?” she asked quietly enough, though Rachelle’s words had landed like punches.

“It’s called knowing who you
are
,” Rachelle explained with a lofty tilt of her chin. “I’m a McGovern. You’re Jack McCory our overseer’s kid. He’s a real rough diamond, isn’t he, your dad?”

Skye felt heat burn up her veins.
Steady. Steady
. She got herself under control. “He could teach
you
some manners,” she answered with cool disdain. “I can see there’s never going to be a way for us to start over, Rachelle. In a way, I’m sorry about that. I know you’re not good at taking advice, but if I were you I’d jettison the bitterness and save your sanity. Hatred and jealousy hold bad karma.”

“Bad karma?” Rachelle’s laugh held more than a hint of ferocity. “Tell me about it! And what’s this with Rob? He only stayed over thinking he could hang around you. Except Keefe put a sock in it and set him to work. Using Rob as a back-up, are you, dear? Can’t have Keefe. Scott isn’t interested. Maybe Robbie will do?”

Introducing Cousin Robert at this point caught Skye by surprise. She hadn’t laid eyes on Rob since the day of the funeral.

“Well?” Rachelle gave Skye a disgusted look.

“Sorry, I need time to digest that, Rachelle. Rob is nice. I like him. But I have no romantic interest in him whatever.”

“Maybe not but you do need a leg up in the world. A Sullivan would certainly do. But there again too much of a reach.” Rachelle laughed with bitter triumph. “You’re nothing but—”

She broke off hastily as a tall shadow fell. Both young women turned round to see Keefe standing barely a few feet away. How had he moved so silently? Skye marvelled. It didn’t seem possible. But, then, Keefe managed to do some pretty incredible things.

“Is this really the place to have an argument?” he asked tersely, his light eyes blazing from one young woman to the other.

“Not an argument, Keefe.” Colour flooded Rachelle’s pale face. “I was laughing.”

Keefe’s expression would have daunted anyone. “If that was a laugh, Rachelle, you’d never get me to join in. Why are you always attacking Skye? Is it ever going to end? Skye has no interest in Rob. It’s Rob who is out of his depth.”

“Please, Keefe! Don’t go on,” Skye implored, seeing all Rachelle’s bravado drain out like her life’s blood. “Rachelle is very stressed. We all are. I came to pay my respects to your father and visit my mother’s grave. I’ll go now.”

“Believe me, that’s for the best,” said Rachelle hoarsely, no more able to control herself than a two-year-old. “This is family. This is the family cemetery. I have fresh flowers in the Jeep for Dad. Are you going to join me, Keefe?” She swung her dark head to appeal to her brother.

“Yes,” he returned sombrely, speaking directly to Skye. “No matter what happens, life goes on. We need to round up the best of the brumbies in the morning. We badly need a few more working horses. I thought you’d like to come along.”

Rachelle moved closer to her brother. “Count me in. I’d like to come.”

“I thought you regarded herding brumbies as a bad idea?” Keefe countered, looking down at his sister.

“Maybe I want to rediscover the thrill.”

“Then I have to warn you, you might be sore and sorry the next day.”

“What about
her?”
Rachelle countered, wearing a huge frown.

“Even you will have to admit Skye’s a far better rider than you, Rachelle,” Keefe said, keeping his tone level. “Also she keeps up with her riding when she’s back in the city. I can’t think when you last went out for a gallop, even if you do like to wear riding clothes. But I will say they suit you.”

“I can keep up,” Rachelle maintained stoutly. “I’ll take one of the horses out this very afternoon. Give it a workout.”

Keefe didn’t answer, but turned back to Skye. “I’d like to make a pre-dawn start. Okay with you?”

The least contact with Rachelle left Skye feeling frayed. “Keefe, I think I’ll pass,” she told him quietly.

“You amaze me!” There was a satiric inflection in his voice. “Besides, you
can’t
pass. I’ve counted you in.”

They saddled up when Minghala, the dawn star, hung high in the east. It was still dark and the air was a good ten degrees cooler than it would be in only a few hours’ time.

Keefe, sitting tall in the saddle, looked across to Skye. “Stick with me,” he said.

“You got it, boss!” she mocked, touching a finger to the brim of her Akubra.

“You don’t want to?” There was a twist to his mouth.

“It used to be much the best place to be.” Their relationship was highly sexual but the strong attachment was also nonsexual. Their liking for each other, the interests they shared, their love of the land. It would always hold them together.

“Don’t talk like it’s history,” he said.

And an odd history it was too! Swiftly she changed the subject. “I see you’ve allowed Rob to come along?’ She looked towards the group of other riders. Rob Sullivan was a fine horseman and an excellent polo player. He often played on Keefe’s team.

“Actually, Rob
begged
to come along,” Keefe stressed. “He’ll be an asset. I don’t know about Rachelle.” Rachelle made up the rest of the party along with three of the station’s top aboriginal stockmen. All three had great tracking eyes—tracking was essential, demanding considerable skill—and a wonderful way with horses. One of them, Jonah, was manoeuvring his gelding back and forth in a parody of herding cattle. Everyone was mounted, circling the forecourt, getting the frisky horses under control.

“So where are we heading?” Skye could feel the build-up of excitement.

Keefe rode alongside her. “The mob has been spotted drinking near Jinjin Swamp. They could have moved on but some of the mares are carrying foals. That will slow them down.”

“So who’s the kingpin these days?” she asked, watching a very impatient-looking Rachelle scolding the horse she was riding. The mare
was
acting up a little, but there was no doubt Rachelle’s bad mood was communicating itself to the animal.

“Still Old Man Mooki,” Keefe said, lifting an arm and gesturing to the north-west to mark their start. “He’s still capable of impregnating the mares and he’s still full of fight. Mooki is as wily as they come. He’s no use to us, of course, but there are ten or twelve decent-looking colts running with him. We’re after them.”

“How many in the mob?” She looked towards the horizon, now washed with ever-expanding bands of pearl grey, pink and lemon.

“Around thirty last time we checked. I know you’re good at this, but don’t take any chances.”

She responded to the seriousness of his tone. “I won’t.”

“You might keep an eye on Rachelle from time to time. I’ve asked Rob to do the same. He’s got one hell of a crush on you, by the way, and not hiding it very well.”

“Some men wear their hearts on their sleeves, others give a woman only the occasional glimpse,” she commented dryly.

“Maybe there’s some underlying fear? Ever think of that? Clearly
I
can’t wear my heart on my sleeve. I’m running this outfit.”

“Don’t worry. I’ve long since got the message.”

“Have you
really
?” He flicked a diamond-hard glance at her. “Maybe you’re not as good at interpreting as you think. Anyway, as a favour to me, don’t give Rob the slightest encouragement. He doesn’t need it.”

“What, not even a smile?” Her blue eyes sparkled with challenge.

“Next thing you know he’ll want to stay on longer.” Keefe’s answer was crisp.

“I don’t think so,” she disagreed. “There are lots of girls out there.”

“Not like
you
there aren’t,” he clipped off. “Damn this thing!” He began to pull on the bandana around his neck to loosen it. They were all wearing protective bandanas. Hers was sapphire blue; Keefe’s a bright red. The colour on him was wonderful, setting off the polished bronze of his skin.

She had never seen a man so impossibly dashing. “Anyway, it’s like I said. I’m not going to compound your worries. I’m going home.”

“Are you, Sky-Eyes?” He turned his dark head abruptly, pinning her gaze.

She took a quick fluttery breath. He hadn’t called her
Sky-Eyes
since she couldn’t remember when. “You know perfectly well I have to. You’re my
fantasy
lover, Keefe,” she said on a bitter-sweet note.

“Now you tell me. You dream of me.” He looked straight ahead.

“Nightmares mostly.” She laughed, but it came out off-key.

“But very
real.”

“
Very
real,” she admitted, thinking of the torture of awakening to find he really wasn’t there in the bed beside her.

“Even at their worst you want them,” he said.

“One ought to be able to take medication for
want
.”

“Maybe
want
is wired as much into the brain as the flesh.” He broke off with a groan. “Look at Rachelle! Early morning isn’t her scene. Why did she want to come?”

“Hopefully to see me take a tumble,” she suggested, laconically.

“My sister is far more likely to be the one taking a tumble.” His reply was grim.

“I hope not! Even under provocation I have no heart to wish any harm on Rachelle.”

“Only on me.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Keefe,” she said sharply, rising above the difficulties that had been thrown in their way. “
You’re
the person I’d miss most in the world. Not that you don’t know it,” she added, with a helpless flare of hostility.

He laughed beneath his breath, reaching across to lightly tap her hand. “Some things, Sky-Eyes, we can’t change. Much as we fight it.”

An hour later, the vast landscape was drenched in blazing sunlight. They cut a swathe through a section of Djinjara’s great herd, which was moving in a slow, snake-like formation of well over a mile, undulating towards water. Riders surrounded the herd, keeping them in line with little effort. They exchanged waves. One of the aboriginal stockmen was giving voice to a native song not unlike a chant. Not only the cattle were finding the lilting sound calming, even though it had grown very hot by now. As always, they hoped for an afternoon thunderstorm to bring the blessed rain. Hope was everything on the desert fringe.

Jinjin was a moving mass of waterbirds, spoonbills, shags, white-faced herons with long pointed beaks, huge flocks of ibis. The pelicans wouldn’t come into the swamps until they had good rains. Soaring red gums threw their long leafy arms over an amazing green carpet of lush grass with countless little wildflowers in all shades of purple. Their sweet fragrance was saturating the air. Obviously the whole amazing area was flourishing on the moisture drawn from beneath. It was alive with droning bees and dragonflies and multicoloured butterflies that drifted about like spent petals raining down from the trees.

“You’d swear the old guy knew we were after him,” Keefe swept off his Akubra to savour a moment of cool relief