Breakaway Creek. Heather Garside

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СКАЧАТЬ bible. 'You're welcome to look at this.'

      The family history was inscribed on a few blank pages at the back: the record of Frank and Sarah Baxter's marriage; the births of five children, and their subsequent marriages. The flowing script had been penned with heavy black ink, and in places there were spots where the pen had spluttered. But there was no mention of Alex.

      The hair prickled on the back of Shelley's neck.

      'It's very strange. I came up against the same lack of info with my mother's family.' She handed over the photo that had spurred her search. 'This is the couple in question, but my grandmother refused to talk about them, apart from calling Alex "a good-for-nothing stockman". She got quite stroppy when I persisted. It was my great aunt - her younger sister - who sent me here.'

      'Family secrets, eh?' Luke's smile crinkled the crow's feet around his eyes as he peered at the picture. For the first time there was real warmth on his face. 'Perhaps he was born on the wrong side of the blanket.'

      'Perhaps.' Shelley returned his smile, trying to suppress the foolish quiver in her stomach. What had happened to her recently-adopted disinterest in men? 'That's what's got me intrigued.'

      'I can ask Mum when I talk to her next. She and Dad are travelling in Europe so we have to wait for them to ring us.' He stood up, casually stretching his long, lean body. 'Would you like a cup of tea or coffee? A glass of water?'

      'Coffee would be nice. But I hope I'm not holding you up.'

      'No, it's smoko time. I'm sorry I wasn't more help.'

      As he filled the electric kettle, Shelley looked around the room. She judged the house to be only about thirty years old - hardly a pioneer dwelling.

      'What happened to the original homestead?'

      Luke glanced at her.

      'It's still here. It's about a kilometre away, closer to the creek. The floods went through it once or twice, so they built up here in the late sixties.'

      'So it's still standing?'

      'Yeah.' He took mugs from one cupboard and a jar of instant coffee from another. 'It's pretty dilapidated now.'

      'I'd love to see it.'

      'Sure. I can show you later.' He made the coffees and put them on the table, then sat opposite her. 'So, where are you from?'

      Shelley spooned sugar into her mug, willing herself to relax.

      'My family's in Rockhampton - I grew up there. But I've been in Brisbane for the last eight years.'

      Luke raised his eyebrows.

      'The bright lights, eh? What do you do in Brisbane?'

      'I work in administration. I'm on leave at the moment.'

      'Then you must be good with computers. Mine's playing up this morning. Keeps freezing on me.'

      'I can have a look at it if you like. It must be hard to get a technician out here.'

      He grinned and sipped his coffee.

      'We can't. We have to take it to them. The joys of living in the bush.'

      'It's so quiet. Don't you find it lonely?' Apart from the faint hum of the refrigerator and the twittering of a willy-wagtail in a tree outside the window, the silence was absolute. It was a far cry from the hustle and roar of Brisbane.

      'You city girls,' he smiled, shaking his head. Then his grin faded. 'That's what my wife used to say.'

      That answered one question. Luke was the one with the broken marriage.

      ****

      You must be crazy, Shelley Blake, she told herself later while sitting at his cluttered desk. Here she was, in the back of beyond, with a cowboy-type hanging over her shoulder as she ran through the settings on his computer. At least he smelled clean, which only proved he hadn't been working outside today. She just wished he wouldn't stand so close.

      She glanced for the umpteenth time at a framed photograph on the desk. It was obvious that the laughing, younger guy in the picture was the same man who now stood behind her. Luke had one arm around a pretty blonde woman, who cradled a baby in her arms, and the other held a small boy of about two against his hip.

      Shelley set the anti-spyware to scan and turned to look up at her companion. From this angle his stubbled jaw looked squarely determined in contrast to his wide mouth and full, well-shaped lips. His eyes looked tired.

      'This could take a while,' she said. She pointed at the photo and took a calculated risk. 'Is this your family?'

      Pain flickered in his eyes.

      'Those are my boys. The photo was taken about three years ago.' He took a deep breath. 'I don't see much of them now. Their mother took off recently.'

      'Oh, I'm sorry.' His obvious distress made her wish she hadn't asked. 'Where are they living?'

      'In Brisbane. Back where she came from.'

      Ouch. His derisive tone indicated he didn't think much of Brisbane.

      'How old are they?'

      'Ben's five and Jack's three. They're real little bushies. They must hate it down there.' The corners of his mouth tugged down in dejected lines.

      A rush of warmth, or empathy, had her sharing more than she'd ever intended.

      'I've just been through a break-up, too. Luckily there were no kids involved.'

      'Were you married?'

      'No, living together. Jason didn't want to get married, and I'm glad of that now.' She abruptly pushed out her chair. No more talk about Jason - he wasn't worth it. 'Well, I'd better leave you to it. It looks like the mystery of Alexander Baxter isn't going to be easily solved.'

      He stepped back, giving her room to rise.

      'It was a long way to come for nothing. Are you in a hurry to leave? I need to feed the weaners now, but I could take you to look over the old house later.' He hesitated. 'If you'd care to stay a couple of days, my parents usually ring on a Friday night. Mum might know something.'

      'Oh, I couldn't impose on you like that.'

      For the first time he grinned with real humour. It made him look almost as young as he did in the photograph.

      'Did you know we're looking for a housekeeper?'

      Shelley stood up and gave him a level stare. His grin was hopeful, boyishly charming - but no, she wasn't falling for it. She glanced around her at the untidy, dusty furniture.

      'Nice try, buster. Do I look like the domestic goddess type?"

      He shrugged.

      'Do they still exist?'

      It would be disappointing to leave without any of the information she'd come for. It would also be nice to spend a few days on a working cattle property - something СКАЧАТЬ