The Cattleman's Bride. Joan Kilby

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СКАЧАТЬ a weak point. However, she wouldn’t find out his on the telephone. She hated traveling but… “I guess I’d better come down and check it out.”

      “Do you have some notion of running this place yourself?” he asked warily.

      “Goodness, no! I wouldn’t have the first idea. My home is here in Seattle. Would you have room for me to stay at the homestead if I come for a brief visit?”

      “Plenty. Just my daughter and I live here. But we’re coming up to the annual cattle muster,” he warned. “And we’re late this year, so I’ll have my hands full.”

      “I won’t disturb you. Promise.” She’d only bug him a little, just enough to get him to sell. “I’d better go for now. Sorry for waking you.”

      “No worries.”

      “I’ll let you know my flight number.”

      “Hop a train from Brisbane, then take the bus from Longreach. We’re at the end of the line.”

      The end of the line? Oh, God. “I’ll see you soon.”

      “Right, then. Cheers.”

      Sarah hung up. Her gazed drifted back to the faded photo of Burrinbilli. It seemed to call to her. Or was that Luke’s voice echoing in her imagination?

      LUKE RAN WATER into the kettle. Through the window above the sink the predawn sky was paling in the east. A new owner for Burrinbilli—he’d thought it would be him. Bloody oath, it would be him. He was thirty-three and too old to be moving on.

      Becka appeared in the doorway in her nightgown, clutching her doll. “You woke me up. Why are you having breakfast in the middle of the night?”

      Luke forced himself not to react to her accusing tone. Was this hostile nine-year-old really his daughter? Where was the loving child who used to swing on his knee? And when had the emotional distance between them, as vast as the desert, sprung into existence? Maybe he should have taken her to live with him right after Caroline died, instead of leaving her with Caroline’s aunt Abby. But how could he have cared for a baby when he was out on the cattle run all day?

      “Go back to bed,” he told Becka. “I’ll be in around nine for morning tea. I’ll make you breakfast then.”

      “I don’t want to go back to bed. I want breakfast now.” She dropped into a wooden chair at the long jarrah-wood table in the middle of the kitchen and twined a finger through her sleep-tangled blond hair.

      Luke exhaled through flared nostrils. It’d only been a week since he’d brought her here; things were bound to get better. Meantime, he didn’t have a clue how to discipline her. So he turned his back and set about making breakfast, cracking half a dozen eggs into one pan and frying strips of lean steak in another.

      “I don’t see why I had to leave Aunt Abby’s to live out here in the middle of nowhere,” Becka whined. “I want to go home.”

      “This is your home now. Abby and I agreed when you were a baby that when you turned nine you’d be old enough to live out at the station.”

      He hadn’t realized then that the move would be such a huge emotional wrench for all of them. For most of Becka’s life their only contact had been the few days a month he could get away from the station to spend with her. Was it any wonder she didn’t want to be here with him now?

      But she was his daughter, his flesh and blood, and he loved her. If Caroline hadn’t drowned when that rust bucket Thai ferry sank he might have convinced her to marry him and move out to the station. They could have been a family.

      Luke placed a plateful of steak and eggs in front of Becka and sat opposite. She stared at it, then at him, silent and incredulous.

      He motioned to her plate with his fork. “Eat.”

      “I can’t eat that! Why did you give me steak? Aunt Abby never cooks steak for breakfast.”

      “You’re not at Aunt Abby’s anymore. Better get used to it.” He’d never liked Abby overly much; she was fussy and irritating and spoiled the girl something chronic. Although, to her credit, she loved Becka and had given the child the time and attention that Luke couldn’t have.

      His harsh tone made Becka’s face crumple. She turned to the doll still cradled in her arms. “Don’t worry, Suzy, we’ll visit Aunt Abby soon.”

      Ah, hell. Luke laid a gentle hand on her arm. “Sorry if I sound a bit rough, possum. I’m not used to having a lady in the house. I’ll have to learn to mind my manners.”

      “I want Coco Pops.”

      He pulled back his hand, muscles tense. “Next time we go into Longreach for supplies we’ll get Coco Pops. Till then, eat up.”

      Still holding her doll, Becka picked up a fork and poked at the fried egg. “Couldn’t I have stayed in Murrum at least until school ended?”

      “The bus runs right by here. I’ll drive you down to the road every morning.”

      “What about during the Wet when the road floods and I can’t get to school? And I’ll never be able to play with my friends on the weekends. Station life sucks.”

      Luke rapped the butt of his knife on the table. “Watch your mouth.” Then he made an effort to soften his tone. “Summer holidays are coming up in December. You can have a friend out to stay.”

      Becka sullenly began to eat. A minute later she started in on him again. “You’re out with the cattle all day. What am I going to do by myself? Who will help me with my lessons?”

      “We’ll sort something out. I’ll help you in the evenings.”

      The situation was rough on her, he had to admit, moving away from town and the aunt she loved to the isolated station. Probably he should have let her finish the school year in town, but he hadn’t thought, didn’t have the experience to know, these things were so important to kids.

      “You can come out on the motorbike with me this morning to check the water bores.”

      Her miserable glance of disdain told him what she thought of that idea. Luke carried his dishes to the sink, his love for his daughter like a knot of pain in his chest.

      “Station life isn’t so bad,” he said, rinsing off his plate. “You can ride Smokey whenever you want.”

      “Aunt Abby was going to get me a puppy.”

      “We’ve got Wal, the Wonder Dog.” In the corner by the stove, Wal raised his speckled black-and-white head and thumped his tail.

      “He’s not mine.”

      Luke had had enough of trying to appease her for one morning. “Listen, miss, your attitude had better change. We’re going to have a guest shortly. The other part owner of the station is coming from America to see the property. I expect you to be polite and cheerful around her.”

      “Why would she want to come to this dump? If I were her I’d rather stay in America.”

      “She wants to bring her mother СКАЧАТЬ