Heir To Danger. Valerie Parv

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СКАЧАТЬ by someone with all the power on their side. At the very least, he wanted to help her even the odds.

      Her beauty and courage had nothing to do with his decision.

      Although Des’s homestead was over sixty years old, the Australian sense of irony meant it would be forever referred to as new, he told her as they neared it. The house sprawled across a ridge of grassland between river and rain forest, raised on a raft of concrete beyond the reach of the spreading floodwaters that would come with the monsoon rains of the wet season.

      From the moment Des and Fran had taken Tom in, their house had felt welcoming. The only solid walls belonged to the bedrooms and bathrooms. The living areas were soaring, open spaces with vaulted ceilings and insect screens for walls. Translucent shutters could be pulled down over the screens to shield the house during the monsoon rains. A deep veranda shaded the house on all sides.

      The room he’d first occupied was on this side, with a view of the McKellar Ranges. The gum tree he’d occasionally climbed down after lights-out leaned more toward the house these days, but was good for another hundred years.

      Much as he liked his own home at Halls Creek, this house still gave him a sense of homecoming. Scared as he’d been arriving as a foster child, unmanageable as he’d acted toward Des and Fran Logan, he’d felt safe here. Fran had died from appendicitis six years after Tom arrived, but Des had made it clear the family would stay together no matter what. Tom wanted Shara to feel the same sense of security.

      Shara watched Tom’s expression soften as they neared his former home. The palace where Shara had grown up was a low, sprawling complex of rooms opening into one another, with the main building at the heart of a cluster of other buildings. While far from palatial, the Logan homestead was also low and rambling, with the same sense of being the focal point of a small community, although her father’s thoroughbreds lived in more luxury than the Australian family. The Logans’ stock horses were corralled in a fenced yard with only basic amenities, but the sound of them whickering to one another as she passed made her feel homesick.

      Accustomed to lavishly maintained homes, she was troubled by the signs of neglect visible everywhere on Diamond Downs. However rich Des Logan was in generosity and compassion, money was evidently in short supply. Shara’s heart ached. She hated adding to the strain on his resources. Her private fortune wouldn’t be hers to control until after she married, but one day she would return Des’s generosity, she promised herself.

      At the sound of Tom’s car pulling up, Des appeared on the veranda. In his mid-sixties he was still a handsome man, the gray peppering his hair lending him an air of wisdom.

      He was a couple of inches shorter than Tom, she saw when they greeted each other, but the older man had a commanding presence. His face was darkly tanned and creased, but she saw welcome and concern in the blue eyes behind his dark-framed glasses.

      If Des was surprised to see her with Tom, he didn’t show it. He looked more alarmed when he saw Shara limping and Tom dragging out a substantial medical kit. From her interactions with Judy, Shara knew you had to be equipped to treat almost any medical emergency yourself in the outback.

      “Should I put in a call to the flying doctor?” Des asked as he took them inside.

      Tom intercepted Shara’s panicked look. “Not yet. Shara wants me to take care of it.”

      Judy appeared in the kitchen doorway, drying her hands on a towel. She took in the situation at a glance. “Let me. I’m the one with paramedic training.”

      As a pilot she would be, Shara thought. Des’s daughter had inherited his perceptive blue eyes, but her coloring was lighter, perhaps from her mother’s side. She was about Shara’s height, with short blond hair, a trim figure and muscular legs shown off by denim cutoffs.

      Shara didn’t miss the reluctance with which Tom handed her into Judy’s care, but refused to read anything into it.

      Judy took her into the huge, airy bathroom and sat her down on a chair before opening the kit at her feet. “What happened to your leg?”

      “I hurt myself while scrambling around a gorge looking at some cave paintings. Tom took care of me,” she said, wondering if he would tell them the rest.

      Judy frowned. “Men! Did it occur to Sir Galahad that he might have rolled up your jeans instead of ruining them.”

      “He did what he thought was right,” Shara said, referring to more than the clothes.

      “He usually does,” Judy agreed, her hands busy. She frowned. “This doesn’t have anything to do with your friend Jamal, does it?”

      “I haven’t seen or heard from him since I moved into the cottage.”

      “But you expect to.”

      She flinched as much at the prospect as at Judy’s ministrations. “He’s not a man who gives up easily.” Like Tom, came the unbidden thought, although Jamal’s motives were purely selfish. “I can’t stay much longer. I’m putting you all in danger from him.”

      Judy finished fastening a bandage around Shara’s calf. “You’re not going anywhere just yet. Tom did a good job. The wound is clean and doesn’t need stitches, but it will take a few days to heal.”

      She closed the kit and stood up to wash her hands. “You’ll stay to dinner tonight, at least?”

      Royal reserve gripped Shara. “I can’t in this condition.”

      Understanding lit Judy’s gaze. “Come with me. I’m sure something of mine will fit you.”

      Shara felt color seep into her cheeks. “As soon as I’m able, I’ll repay you for all your kindness.”

      “Put Jamal out of commission, and your happiness will be payment enough.”

      Des waited until the two women disappeared into the bathroom, then turned to Tom. “What really happened out there?”

      Tom kept his face blank. “That’s between Shara and me.”

      Des glowered. “Look, son, my heart might be defective but my brain isn’t. I won’t be wrapped in cotton wool just because of what some fool doctor told you.”

      “He told you the same thing he told me. Too much stress can kill you.”

      The older man’s eyes narrowed. “And a transplant won’t?”

      “The success rate—”

      “Requires some other poor soul to die to give me a chance at life,” Des interrupted, “so I can hardly feel happy about it. Not that there’s any hurry to decide. The doctor reckons my age puts me well down the priority list.”

      Judy, Tom and their foster brothers had all tried to convince Des that if he was given a chance at life, he should grab it with both hands. He was still far from convinced. At the thought of being without him, Tom felt a reaction as if someone had kicked him in the gut.

      “You sure Shara wasn’t trying to outrun her intended?” Des persisted.

      Another kick, this time a little lower down. “What makes you ask?”

      “One of Judy’s colleagues СКАЧАТЬ