Outback Wives Wanted!: Wedding at Wangaree Valley / Bride at Briar's Ridge / Cattle Rancher, Secret Son. Margaret Way
his voice was full of real interest and concern, she was immediately on the defensive. Guy was a man of immense kindness, who did things for people without drawing attention to it, but she didn’t want to talk about her father, burdened for so long with the worry, the hurt and humiliation of what he had become.
“You know darn well how he is, Guy,” she said, soft vehemence covering her compulsion to cry. “Dad’s a mess.”
“Don’t! I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry.” His hand shot out to encircle her wrist.
She didn’t have the strength to pull away. This man touched her in every way. “I’m not going to embarrass you!” Her pretty teeth were gritted. The light caught the sparkle of tears.
“Do I look like I’m embarrassed?” he challenged.
On the contrary, he radiated a richly sensual tenderness.
“I’m not ever going to cry in front of you,” she vowed.
“You’ll have to take the consequences if you do,” he said enigmatically, not releasing her hand, but stroking her palm with his thumb.
She swallowed hard. Consequences?
“Your father has always resisted grief counselling.” There was regret in his voice. “That’s a pity. There are very good people who can help him. One in particular I’d like him to at least meet.”
She bit her lip. “He won’t do it, Guy.”
“What if I talk to him one more time?”
She made a sad little face. “Dad thinks the world of you, Guy. And I have an awful suspicion you’ve been helping us out financially, but I know you won’t tell me. Even so, I don’t think your trying would do any good. Kieran and I have had to give up. Dad can be very stubborn. Sometimes I think he has a death wish.”
Guy’s hand tightened over hers, causing her to close her eyes at the mounting excitement.
“Don’t say that,” he told her quickly. “There’s been enough tragedy.”
How could she feel comforted and yet delirious with excitement at the same time? It was a fantasy. Did he know what it was doing to her, his thumb on her hand, skin on skin?
“My mother was tremendously upset when your father was killed.” Once again she had strayed into dangerous territory. “When I think back, it was like something deeply personal.”
“Your mother was a truly beautiful and compassionate woman. Leave it at that, Alana.” His striking features were taut.
“I wasn’t … Of course I wasn’t … I wouldn’t dream of …” A disdainful drawl came out of the shadows, causing them to break apart.
“So there you are, Lana,” Violette called. “Simon is looking everywhere for you.”
“Why? Is there some emergency?” Guy turned his dark head as Violette, emanating a powerful jealousy, stalked up to them.
She gave Guy a playful smile. “Why, Guy, you know Simon can’t let her out of his sight for a minute. He’s mad about the girl. Goodness, they already look married. And I’m not the only one to think so.”
“You are the busy little bee, spreading all these rumours,” he pointed out dryly.
“Darling!” Violette protesting took his arm. “I think it’s cute. Those two have been sweethearts almost from the cradle.”
A scream felt like an appropriate response to Alana. Instead she found a smile. “Pardon me if I just run along.”
Once she was inside the house, Simon dived back to her side. “How did the dance go?” he asked eagerly. “You and Guy were really, really good. Everyone was watching you.”
“I loved it,” she confirmed, in a massive understatement. “But actually I crave a cold drink.”
“There’s champagne,” Simon suggested, smiling helpfully. ‘It’s really flowing.”
“Cold water would do nicely.”
“I’ll get some. What about club soda?’
“Fine.” She nodded her head.
“There’s not a thing Guy can’t do.” Simon, his voice full of admiration, steered her towards the drinks table
“He’s The Man, all right!” she agreed laconically.
“He sure is. Look, do you suppose we could get out of here soon? It’s a lovely event, but I’m not much good with parties. I soon run out of chit-chat.”
“You want to go?” Alana looked around for her brother. She spotted him, yet again with Alex.
They obviously preferred talking to dancing, and it was no trivial chit-chat either. They might have been about to face a firing squad together. Another mystery there. She hadn’t seen them dancing together all night. But what perfect foils they were for each other! She supposed that might equally well apply to her and Guy. The striking difference in colouring, of course, the gold and the ebony. She had a presentiment that she should follow Kieran’s direction and take a separate path from the Radcliffes. It wouldn’t have escaped her so-proud brother’s attention that Alex was an heiress. It pretty well put a sign around her neck that read, strictly off-limits. Besides, when Alex was at home she was never without Roger Westcott in tow. A lot of people thought they would marry. The Westcotts were old squattocracy. It was the same old story. Money married money. People with a position in society married their own kind. It helped keep the family fortunes intact.
“Look, I’ll stay if you want to,” Simon was saying selflessly, though he didn’t really enjoy himself when Alana wasn’t around. And all the fellows he knew were looking their way, no doubt awaiting an opportunity to dance with her. “You’re so good with people. I envy you. I always get the feeling people don’t know what I’m saying. The only person in the world I can really relax with is you.”
Sadly, it was true. Rebecca’s brand of mothering had had a disastrous effect on him. Simon had made reticence an art form.
“And I worship Guy,” he tacked on, quite unnecessarily.
“Simon, dear, I don’t have the slightest doubt of that!” She wondered for the first time in her life if she didn’t worship Guy herself?
“Yet I always feel I should recharge the batteries when I’m around him. He’s so vital, so focused. And Alex is a lovely person, but I don’t really know her—she’s so deep. Kieran always gives me the impression he’d like to see me do a stint in the army. Little Rose, now, is sweet. I can see a little bit of you in her.”
Here was an opportunity. Alana seized it. “Well, isn’t that what I keep telling you? You have to get to know Rose better.”
“Let’s go. Let’s get out of here,” Simon said by way of an answer.
When they arrived at Briar’s Ridge, Simon, very properly, got out of the Range Rover to escort her to the door. “I won’t see you tomorrow if you’re going to Wangaree for lunch. You could come over for tea?” he suggested, giving her a beseeching look.
“Doesn’t your mother require a month’s notice?” Alana put up a hand and pinched his cheek, something she’d been doing since the First Grade.
“What about fish and chips down by the river?”
“My very favourite place! Down by the river it is.”
She reached up to kiss his cheek, before sending him on his way, only Simon decided it was his moment to act. The light of battle was in his sky-blue eyes.
“Simon!” she gave a warning wail, not wanting to hurt him, her dearest friend, yet at the same time possessed of a fierce urge to push him away.
But