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She must have fallen asleep then, because she woke with a start when she heard Mark moving about, packing their things into the back of the ute.
She sat up stiffly. ‘Have I been asleep long?’
He smiled. ‘About an hour.’
‘Heavens! Just as well I’m not being paid by the hour.’
He held up the flask. ‘Would you like the last of the tea?’
‘Thanks. It might help me to wake up.’
As Mark handed her the metal cup, she saw that he’d stowed everything away and that grey shadows had begun to stretch from the trees out across the newly mended fence and the yellowed grass.
They started back to the homestead in the cool of the afternoon, and as the shadows lengthened families of kangaroos came out to graze.
‘If you like, I’ll show you how to stalk right up to kangaroos,’ he said. ‘If you freeze every time they look up from feeding, you can almost get close enough to touch them.’
Sophie grinned. ‘Sounds like fun.’
She couldn’t believe how relaxed she felt. The bush wasn’t nearly so scary with Mark beside her, his hands expertly guiding their vehicle around a huge anthill, then letting the wheel spin free as he corrected their direction and rushed on over the trackless ground.
She decided there was something almost infallible about Mark Winchester in this environment. His quiet competence put her completely at ease, and she knew she could trust him.
Until he said suddenly, ‘If we’re supposed to be getting to know each other better, why don’t you tell me more about Oliver?’
CHAPTER SEVEN
SOPHIE’S sense of peace deserted her. Was she never to be free of the spectre of Oliver? ‘What do you want to know?’ she asked nervously.
Mark stared grimly ahead through the windscreen. ‘You were going to marry the man. You must have loved him.’
She winced. She hated having to relive the humiliation of Oliver’s rejection. But she supposed it was best to be completely honest with Mark. If she got this out in the open, she might with luck be able to leave it behind.
‘I did love Oliver,’ she admitted unhappily. ‘At least, I thought I did. He’s an accomplished musician, and I was flattered when he took an interest in me. And I suppose I thought my parents would be pleased.’
‘Were they?’
‘Not as pleased as I’d hoped.’ Sophie fiddled nervously with her hair, winding a curl around her forefinger and then letting it spring free, before grabbing it again. ‘I didn’t realise he was a rat until it was too late.’ She bit her lip.
Mark frowned at her. ‘Too late?’
Sophie stopped fiddling with her hair and straightened her spine, summoned the dignity necessary to get through this confession. ‘It wasn’t until after I agreed to marry Oliver that I discovered he was only dating me because of my family.’
The shocked look on Mark’s face was comforting. It reminded her of the night they’d met, when his refusal to be excessively impressed by her clever relations had endeared him to her.
‘Oliver fancies himself as a concert master,’ she explained. ‘And a composer. Actually, minimalist opera is his big thing. He adored my mother.’
‘Minimalist opera? What the hell is that?’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Act one, a guy feels a sneeze coming on. Act two, he puts his hand in his pocket and pulls out a handkerchief. Act three, he sneezes.’
Mark’s eyebrows rose high. ‘Then dies?’
‘No, dying only happens in grand opera.’
Chuckling, he shook his head, clearly bewildered by the entire concept.
‘Oliver hoped that by marrying me he could convince my father to boost him into a brilliant career. But Dad wasn’t very impressed with him, and, as soon as Oliver realised that his dreams were toast, he dumped me.’
Mark’s hands tightened on the steering wheel. ‘That must have been very rough.’
She lifted one shoulder in a carefully nonchalant shrug. ‘For a time there, it wasn’t pleasant.’
To her relief, Mark didn’t press her for more details. They drove on in silence, while the sky in the west began to fade to the palest blue streaked with pink.
When she felt a little calmer, Sophie said, ‘Should I be enquiring about your girlfriends, Mark? Is there anyone special?’
He smiled and shook his head. ‘I’ve been so busy since I bought this place, I haven’t had time for a social life.’
‘I take it you haven’t always lived here?’
‘No. I grew up on Wynstead, a much prettier property near the coast, and after my father died I took over the running of it.’
‘Why did you come out here, then?’ She couldn’t help asking this. A prettier property near the coast sounded so much more appealing.
‘I wanted to expand. These days you either have to get big or get out. I didn’t want to leave the cattle industry, so I hired a manager for Wynstead and came further west to more marginal country. The land’s cheaper out here, but you need much more of it. I can run thousands of head of cattle, but it’s a harder life.’
‘How long have you been here?’
‘A little over a year. I’m still in the process of knocking the property into shape.’
Sophie sank back into her seat as she digested this. It explained why Mark hadn’t done anything about his dingy and depressing house. She found it interesting that he was something of a pioneer, prepared to put up with hardship in the short term while planning for a brighter future.
‘I’m glad you let me come fencing today,’ she said. ‘But I still feel as if I have no idea about the things you normally do. I haven’t seen any of your cowboy antics. I haven’t seen you on a horse. I—I haven’t even patted a cow.’
His eyes widened. ‘You want to pat a cow?’
‘Um—well—’ Sophie imagined getting close to one of those enormous, multi-hoofed animals and made a quick adjustment. ‘Maybe I could start with something less daunting—like one of your dogs?’
His lips twitched. ‘I told you, my cattle dogs are working dogs. They might try to take off your fingers.’
‘Oh.’ Well, that puts me in my place!
‘But they’d let you pat them if I told them it was OK.’
‘That’s big of them. I do find that a full set of fingers is rather useful.’
They came to a pair of metal gates between two paddocks. Mark stopped the vehicle, jumped out, opened the gates and then climbed back in.
Sophie shot him a thoughtful frown. ‘If I was a proper Outback girl I’d open and close those gates for you, wouldn’t I?’
He shrugged as he shoved the gear stick into first. ‘Perhaps. But it’s not necessary.’
‘Let me close them,’ she said, thrusting her door open.
‘You don’t have to, Sophie.’
‘I want to!’
Didn’t Mark understand? She didn’t want to be treated like an English tourist. She would never fit into life in the Outback if she was constantly mollycoddled. Jumping to the ground, she gave him a jaunty wave, and he drove the truck through, then she swung the gate closed and hurried to lock it.
She’d seen Mark doing this before. It was dead easy. All she had to do was pull a chain through the gate and loop it over a bolt on the stout timber fence-post.
An impossibly big bolt.
No way could she stretch the metal chain to loop over it. Three times she tried and failed. Darn. Sophie refrained from stamping her foot, and she didn’t dare to look back to Mark, couldn’t bear to see his knowing smirk. If he made a wisecrack, so help her, she might box his ears. There had to be a trick to this. Perhaps she was trying too hard.
If she took this more slowly, lifted the chain higher and—
‘Here.’ Mark’s deep voice sounded beside her. ‘Let me show you.’
She looked up, her chin stubbornly proud. She didn’t want his assistance. She’d helped him with fencing, so surely she could do something as simple as shut a gate!
But, although Mark was smiling, she saw to her relief that he was not making fun of her. His big hands closed over hers. ‘There’s a bit of a trick to it,’ he said gently. ‘You need to tilt the chain like so.’
Naturally, when he did it the chain slipped easily over the bolt.
‘If you’d given me another minute, I would have worked that out,’ she protested.
‘Of course you would have.’ Mark smiled again and let his knuckles gently graze the side of her cheek.
Her skin burned at his touch, and her heart skittered like a frisky colt. ‘I’ll be all right with the next gate.’
‘Sure.’
Mark dropped his hand, and she let out a shaky breath as they climbed back into the ute.
They continued on in charged silence until Mark said, ‘I didn’t realise you wanted a really close encounter with Outback life.’
‘But I’m supposed to be getting to know you better,’ she said defensively. ‘Shouldn’t that involve getting to know about the everyday things you usually do? I mean, I don’t even know what you do when you look after your cattle.’
He gave her a quick glance. ‘I suppose you want a few details so you can tell our child about me when he’s older?’
‘Well…yes.’ She felt suddenly, unaccountably depressed.
Ever since their conversation about the bean, she’d been toying with the romantic possibility that she could morph miraculously into a woman of the Outback, that she and Mark could really make a relationship work.
But it was jolly obvious that her thoughts were racing way ahead of Mark’s. He was sticking to their original plan, and he fully expected her to go straight back to England at the end of next week to raise their child alone.
It was crazy to get carried away with dreams of something else. She’d known all along that there was no point in falling for Mark, or starting to weave dreams about living here. He wanted what was best for the baby, but today she’d learned that he was also struggling to get this property on its feet. An Englishwoman and a tiny baby were added burdens he could do without.
Unfortunately.
When they got back to the homestead, the blue-speckled cattle dogs barked a noisy greeting from their kennels beneath the shady mango tree. Mark climbed down from the ute and gave them a playful scuff about the ears, and then he looked back at Sophie. ‘Would you like to say hello?’
Her enthusiasm for a close encounter with the Outback had dimmed somewhat on the journey back, but she put on a brave face and gave the dogs a self-conscious wave. ‘Hi, guys.’
‘Come and meet them properly,’ Mark said, offering her a sideways grin.
Her hands had automatically clenched behind her back, and she kept them there as she took a couple of steps closer.
‘Monty, Blue Dog, this is Sophie,’ Mark announced rather grandly. ‘I want you two to say hello to her very nicely.’
The dogs quieted immediately and stood looking up at Sophie, their intelligent eyes watchful, their pointy ears alert, tails wagging more sedately.
‘You can pat them now,’ Mark said, watching her with mild amusement.
Sophie tried to unclench her hands from behind her back. Me and my big mouth. Mark might have given permission, but the dogs still had frighteningly big teeth! And their short hair looked rather bristly.
‘I’m actually more of a cat person,’ she said, to show that she wasn’t completely out of touch with the animal world.
But she took a tiny step towards Blue Dog—after all, he’d looked after her so beautifully yesterday.
Fortune favours the brave.
She held out her hand, preparing to deliver a swift pat on his head, but to her amazement the dog sat and lifted a paw to her.
‘He wants to shake hands?’ She shot Mark a look of amazed delight, and her nervousness melted as she bent down and took the dog’s paw. ‘Hello, Blue Dog.’
She rather liked the feel of the soft pad of his paw, upholstered with work-toughened skin. And, when she patted the fur between his ears, she discovered that it was soft and quite pleasant to touch. Not bristly at all.
The introduction was repeated with Monty.
‘They are so impressive, Mark.’ Hands on hips, Sophie turned to him, beaming with unabashed admiration. ‘How did you get them to do that?’
‘Hand signals,’ he replied airily. ‘Now, show me your hand.’
Puzzled, she held it out to him, and her heart stumbled as he took her rather small, white hand and cradled it in his hands, which were by contrast very big and brown.
Sophie struggled to breathe as Mark examined her fingers. He turned her hand over gently and then back again, touching her knuckles, her fingertips, one by one. It was quite unfair of him, really. Didn’t he know that electricity zapped through her whenever he touched her?
‘W-what are you doing?’ she stammered.
His face was close to hers, and when she looked up she found herself looking directly into his dark-brown eyes. ‘I’m making sure you haven’t lost a finger,’ he said, and his slow smile made her insides roll like a tumbleweed.
‘Now,’ he said, letting her hand go, and apparently quite unaware that he’d reduced her to a puddle of melted hormones. ‘Would you like to come with me while I take a look at the horses?’
Sophie gulped. ‘I—I suppose it won’t hurt to work my way up the animal kingdom.’
The horses weren’t kept in stables, but in a long, skinny paddock that stretched from the stockyards beside the barn down to a string of trees lining an almost-dry creek bed. As they approached the fence line, Mark put his little fingers to the corners of his mouth and let out a shrill whistle. The horses were at the far end of the paddock, but they all turned together like choreographed dancers and began to canter gracefully over the yellow grass towards them.
One glance at Mark and Sophie could see that he was very fond and proud of these creatures, and she had to admit they were rather gorgeous in a scary, long-legged and horsy kind of way.
There were four of them in a mixture of colours—dappled grey, chestnut, piebald and black.
Mark went forward to greet them as they came up to the fence, but Sophie stood well back, her hands once more tightly clasped behind her back. Patting dogs was one thing, but horses were another matter entirely. To start with, they had much bigger teeth!
But she’d claimed that she wanted to know all about Outback life, and she couldn’t exactly change her mind now.
Reaching up, Mark patted one horse’s neck, and stroked the nose of another. He smiled at her again. ‘This is Tilly. She’s very gentle. Come and say hello.’
Tilly was the chestnut, rather pretty, with a white blaze on her forehead and a silky black mane. But gentle? Sophie eyed the mare’s arched neck, her raised tail and wrinkled lips revealing very large teeth. She didn’t think gentleness was a possibility.
‘Horses don’t bite, do they, Mark?’
His eyes flashed as he grinned back at her. ‘These are OK, but some stallions can be nasty. I’d rather be bitten by a dog than a horse any day.’
‘I might say hello from here,’ she said. But she could hear how wimpy and wet that sounded, and she forced herself to take a quick step forward. But, good grief, the closer she got to the horse the more enormous it seemed.
Mark had an arm looped around Tilly’s neck and was practically embracing her.
A faint memory from Sophie’s childhood tugged at her—a memory of her grandfather coaxing her to hold a baby hedgehog. She’d been frightened of the prickly quills, but, once Granddad had shown her how to hold the spiny little ball, she’d been totally charmed by its soft underbelly and the little purring sound it had made.
And meeting the dogs just now had been a breeze.
‘What the heck?’ Sophie’s heart pounded and her hand shook as she reached up. She tried not to look at those huge horsy teeth. ‘He-hello, Tilly.’ Very quickly she patted the short hair on Tilly’s nose, then snatched her hand away.
Done. And her fingers had survived. Phew. Not so bad after all.
‘Which horse do you mostly ride?’ she asked hastily, hoping that her question might serve to divert attention from her nervousness.
‘Charcoal.’ Mark pointed to the black horse.
Of course, Mark would ride the biggest and scariest horse of all.
‘Have you ever fallen off?’
He grinned at her. ‘Tons of times.’
Sophie winced. ‘Have you been badly hurt?’
‘Broken leg. Concussion. Torn ligaments in my shoulder.’
The very thought of his injuries made her blanch. ‘How old were you when you learned to ride?’
‘I can’t remember.’ Mark smiled and shook his head. ‘It seems like I’ve been on a horse all my life.’ Suddenly he was climbing the railings. ‘Charcoal and I are old mates.’
Sophie started to protest that a demonstration wasn’t necessary, but Mark had already reached the top rail. For a heart-stopping moment, he was poised on the thin slat of timber, then, in one swift, athletic leap, he was on Charcoal’s back.
She gave a shriek of alarm. He had no saddle or reins. How on earth would he stay on? Her heart was in her mouth as she watched him nudge Charcoal with his knees, saw the huge black beast lift its head in a snort then take off, its hooves thundering across the hard ground, with Mark astride him.
‘Be careful!’ she called, her heart thudding as fast as the horse’s hooves. But her words weren’t heeded.
And she soon saw that they weren’t necessary. By the time Charcoal had cantered to the far end of the field, she could see that Mark and the animal moved as one—both lean and muscular, superbly athletic. Magnificent creatures, perfectly attuned to each other, and in the prime of condition and fitness.
Near the line of trees that bordered the creek, Charcoal turned in a wide arc, then came racing back at breakneck speed, Mark leaning forward, head down and holding the horse’s mane. And as they drew near Mark grinned broadly at Sophie, then sat upright and threw both arms triumphantly above his head, like an Olympian acknowledging the roar of the crowd.
‘Crazy idiot,’ she muttered, but she was smiling. She couldn’t deny he was rather splendid. And incredibly sexy. She felt a burst of feminine longing so fierce she cried out. And was glad that he couldn’t hear it.
As they walked back to the house, it occurred to her that she was gradually losing her fear of the Outback, which boded well for future visits. But she was caught in a new dilemma.
It was all very fine for her to feel more at home on Coolabah Waters, but wasn’t it foolish to let herself fall in love with its gorgeous owner?
CHAPTER EIGHT
MARK’S neighbours, Sophie discovered next day, lived in a large homestead, not unlike the one on Coolabah Waters—low-set, with timber walls and an iron roof, and deep, shady verandas. But the difference was that their house was surrounded by lots of shade trees and, to Sophie’s surprise, green lawns.
It was painted pristine-white, with a dark green roof. Green trims on the window sills and veranda railings made it look cool and thoroughly inviting.
Andrew and Jill Jackson were tall, slim and fair, in their late thirties, with wide, welcoming smiles that gave an impression of salt-of-the-earth wholesomeness. There were three children—two long-legged girls and a little boy of six, who was a pint-sized version of his father.
‘The children love visitors,’ Jill said with a laugh as she led Sophie and Mark to a grouping of cane chairs on a shaded veranda. ‘You’re a great excuse for them to get out of schoolwork.’
‘Where do you go to school?’ Sophie asked them.
‘In our schoolroom here at home,’ said the eldest, Katie.
‘Long-distance education,’ Jill explained as she poured frosty glasses of home-made ginger beer. ‘Their lessons are sent out by mail, and they each have thirty minutes on the phone every day with their teacher in Mount Isa. Some properties have governesses, but I’m home tutor for my three, and I really enjoy it.’
Sophie tried to imagine being tutored by her mother. Impossible. Lady Eliza had always been far too busy.
She was surprised that the children were encouraged to join in the conversation, and she listened while they chatted about their recent holiday on Magnetic Island.
Andrew asked Mark about the muster, and the men talked about a computer program that would allow them to monitor the condition of their paddocks via satellite photography. This interested Sophie immensely, but she kept quiet. She didn’t want to give the impression that she was any more than an overseas visitor.
But when she went to the kitchen with Jill, to help carry salads to the table for lunch, she couldn’t help asking, ‘Were the children born out here?’
‘Heavens, no,’ Jill said, shaking her head. ‘I went into Mount Isa Hospital.’
‘But that’s a long way to travel when you’re in labour.’
‘Oh, I wasn’t in labour,’ Jill assured her, as she drizzled vinaigrette onto rocket leaves. ‘Pregnant women out here have to go into town when they reach thirty-six weeks. It’s a requirement—to be on the safe side.’
‘Oh, I see. That’s sensible, I guess, but it’s a bit of a nuisance, isn’t it?’
Jill shrugged. ‘It’s just another thing you get used to when you live in the bush.’
‘What about during your pregnancy? How did you manage doctor’s visits?’
‘A doctor comes out to Wandabilla from Mount Isa every week to conduct a clinic. He brings his ultra-sound machine, so it isn’t too much of a drama.’ Jill sent her a sharply curious glance and waited, almost as if she was expecting Sophie to explain her interest in Outback pregnancy.
But although this woman seemed very nice Sophie wasn’t ready to confide. Instead, she asked, ‘Have you always lived out here?’
Jill shook her head. ‘I grew up in the city. In Adelaide, in the south. I trained to be a nurse with Andrew’s sister, and I went home with her once for a holiday, set eyes on Andrew and…’ She grinned. ‘And that same afternoon I helped him to vaccinate a pen of steers. Wouldn’t let the poor man out of my sight.’ She winked. ‘But he didn’t seem to mind.’
Sophie wanted to ask if she had any regrets about leaving the city, but Jill was looking at her shrewdly again, as if she had questions of her own to ask. Luckily, Anna burst into the kitchen to announce that young John had already begun to help himself to the potato salad, so the questions were dropped.
Sophie enjoyed the lunch very much. Corned beef, she discovered, was very tasty, especially when accompanied by home-made mango chutney. They ate in a large dining room, not unlike Mark’s, but painted in a cool lemon and white, with pretty curtains framing a view of the lush and shady garden. When Sophie admired the garden, Jill offered her cuttings.
‘Well…thank you,’ Sophie said awkwardly.
‘Sophie’s only going to be here for another week or so,’ Mark intervened. ‘And that’s hardly long enough to get a garden established, is it?’
This was met by puzzled silence. Across the table Jill’s gaze met her husband’s.
And Sophie’s eyes met Mark’s, but his expression was distinctly guarded.
Jill broke the awkward silence. ‘Leave the plants till you come back, then, Sophie. In the meantime I’ll pot up a few things for you. To get you started.’
Now it was Sophie’s turn to feel confused. She wasn’t coming back. What had Mark told the Jacksons about her? She shot him another searching glance, but he kept his eyes on his plate, as if those last slices of cucumber and carrot were the most important vegetables in the world.
If Jill noticed the tension, she didn’t let on. ‘Time for dessert,’ she said. ‘Who has room for lemon-chiffon pie?’
This time, when Sophie glanced Mark’s way, she caught a small smile twitching the corners of his mouth. ‘I’d love some, thanks,’ he said, sending Sophie a slow wink that made her toes curl. ‘Lemon-chiffon is my favourite.’
An embarassing heat warmed Sophie’s face as she remembered what had happened the last time they’d eaten this dessert. In London after the wedding.
‘Let me help you, Jill,’ she said, jumping to her feet.
It was when everyone was tucking into their pie that Jill said, ‘Mark’s told us about your famous musical family, Sophie.’
Andrew chimed in. ‘My grandfather was very musical, and we still have his grand piano, but it never gets used now. No one else in the family has ever shown any interest.’
‘Except me,’ piped up Anna, and then she pouted. ‘But I can’t have piano lessons until I go to boarding school.’
Sophie sent her a sympathetic smile.
‘I’m sure you can play, can’t you, Sophie?’ prompted Jill. ‘Maybe you could give Anna a few tips?’
Sophie was so used to denying any musical ability that she almost said no. She had too many painful memories of dire occasions in her childhood when she’d been forced to play for her parents’ guests and had suffered the embarrassment of comparison with her brilliant sisters.
But this was a very different scene.
‘I can play a little,’ she admitted.
Anna clapped her hands. ‘Will you play for us now?’
‘Please do,’ added Jill. ‘It’s an age since our piano was played properly, but I get it tuned every year just the same.’
‘It would be a pleasant change to hear proper music and not the kids’ tuneless thumping,’ chimed in Andrew.
Everyone looked expectantly at Sophie.
‘I don’t have any music,’ she said.
This was met by a chorus of groans.
And when Sophie saw Anna’s crestfallen face she gave in. ‘I can play simple things by ear,’ she amended, but she didn’t admit that she actually preferred playing by ear, improvising as the mood took her.
‘Wonderful.’ Jill leapt to her feet. ‘The piano’s in the lounge. Everyone go in there and I’ll bring the coffee.’
It was three in the afternoon before Sophie and Mark reluctantly agreed that they should make their departure.
‘You were a great hit,’ Mark said as they drove back across the flat, sparsely treed plains, heading for Coolabah Waters. He shot Sophie a questioning glance. ‘I thought you said you weren’t musical.’
‘Compared to the rest of the family, I’m not.’
‘But you’re fabulous. I bet your sisters can’t play all those movie themes and pop songs by ear.’
‘Well, no. I don’t think they know many pop songs.’
‘There you go,’ he cried, giving the steering wheel a delighted thump. ‘We don’t need concert-standard performances at an old-fashioned Outback singalong.’
She smiled. ‘It was fun, wasn’t it?’
‘It was terrific. The Jacksons loved you. I was very proud of you.’ Mark looked suddenly embarrassed, as if he’d said too much.
But his praise sent a giddy thrill swirling through Sophie. ‘Young Anna is very talented. She has an exceptional ear for a child. I felt bad when I had to explain that I wouldn’t be able to teach her, that I’m going back to England.’ She frowned at Mark. ‘I don’t understand why they think I’m staying on.’
His only reply was a throat-clearing sound and Sophie turned square on to him, crossing her arms over her chest. ‘Is this confession time, Mark?’
‘What are you talking about?’ He flicked a quick look her way then speedily returned to staring at the track ahead.
‘As if you don’t know.’ Sophie rolled her eyes even though he wasn’t looking at her. ‘Why do your neighbours think I’m here to stay?’
His jaw jutted stubbornly. ‘They’ve just made an assumption.’
‘Andrew and Jill don’t strike me as the types who jump to conclusions on very little evidence. What did you tell them?’
‘I simply told them you were a girl I met in England.’
‘But they knew about my family. What else did you tell them?’
His shoulders lifted in an uneasy shrug. ‘Not much at all. But word spreads quickly in the bush. And when your phone call came through on that mustering camp it caused quite a stir.’
‘Really?’ Sophie was faintly appalled. ‘Why?’
‘Well…it’s not every day a man, out in the middle of a bush muster, gets a phone call from a girl in England.’
She frowned. ‘Don’t tell me all the men were listening in?’
‘They weren’t eavesdropping. They couldn’t hear our conversation. But they knew you were calling from England, and they knew I’d been over there for the wedding. And now you’ve turned up here. I guess everyone has put two and two together.’
‘And they’ve come up with five.’
After a beat, Mark said, ‘When it should have been three.’
Sophie stared at him and gulped.
Three…The two of them plus their baby…
Unexpected sadness stung her throat, and she turned away and watched a mob of cattle moving quietly across the flat expanse of a golden paddock. She remembered how distraught she’d been when she’d rung Mark from London, thought now about how embarrassed he must have been when he’d had to take her surprising call in front of a bunch of stockmen.
Now Mark’s friends and neighbours had visions of a romance between them. They probably expected him to marry her.
If there was no wedding and she went back to England, they were going to be jolly disappointed for Mark. No doubt the gossip would start again, and Mark would be left with the awkward job of trying to shrug off her reasons for abandoning him.
And in England, she would be facing equally awkward questions from her parents. Ouch.
What a mess.
Sophie sagged against the car door and stared at the blur of pale-gold paddocks outside.
At the Jackson’s today, she’d begun to sense that life in the Outback could be quite wonderful for a woman and a man who loved each other. The isolation of the bush demanded something special of a couple. Away from the hustle and bustle of city life, people focused on caring for each other and their children. She’d never met such a close-knit, happy family.
There had actually been a heady moment when Sophie had thought that perhaps she could live here and be a successful Outback wife, too. Jill was a wonderful inspiration—contented with her busy life, running the house as well as supervising her children’s schooling and helping her husband with the business side of running their cattle property.
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