Amy's Touch by Lynne Wilding Page B

He didn’t want to talk about boring Joe Walpole, or Danny, for that matter—and especially—though he wasn’t quite sure why—not Amy Carmichael. The band began to play a foxtrot. ‘You up to another dance, Beth?’
    Her delight showed in the radiant smile she gave him. ‘Most definitely.’ Hand in hand, they headed towards the dance floor.
    Beth nestled into the darkened interior of the back seat of Joe’s automobile as he drove her and their father back to Ingleside. The night had turned out much better than she had anticipated. She’d had a wonderful evening and she knew why: Randall McLean. A sigh of satisfaction was lost in the noise the automobile’s engine made. He had finally noticed that she was a woman, not just the girl he’d gone to school with or Joe Walpole’s sister. He had made it clear to her that he enjoyed her company, and they had danced several dances together and shared a plate of supper treats.
    It was and always had been easy to talk to Randall. They had many things in common. Their properties adjoined each other, and, frankly, she had almost as much knowledge about raising cattle and sheep as her father—not that he bothered to talk much to her about his various holdings, because she was a woman and country women were, by his and many other country men’s standards—better suited to being mothers and carers, not side-by-side working partners.
    Somehow, though, she had the impression that Randall didn’t think the same way as her father; that the woman he settled down with would be invited to play an active part in the development and running of Drovers Way. It would be nice, better than nice, to be that woman, she decided. Randall was a fine-looking man, a war hero too, and so capable, having saved Drovers when, according to her father, it had been a step away from bankruptcy.
    Sharp of eye and intuitive, during the evening she had thought he appeared more than casually interested in Danny’s girlfriend, Amy. From various positions she’d taken around the hall, she had watched him slyly observe Amy while appearing to socialise with other people. His gaze had often sought out the brunette nurse, but then, on finding her, his eyes would drop away to study something else. Maybe he was simply curious about the depth of her feelings for his brother.
    The automobile drove over several deep ruts in the road, rousing Bill Walpole from the snooze he’d been having.
    ‘God, Joe, can’t you drive better than that?’
    ‘Yes, Dad.’
    ‘You all right in the back, Beth?’
    ‘I’m fine, Daddy,’ she replied, still ruminating. Randall McLean was, according to her mother and several members of the St John’s Ladies’ Auxiliary, the best catch in the district. He wasn’t wealthy, in terms of having money in the bank, but Drovers Way was one of the largest and best located properties in the district, and it was only a matter of time before he restored it to the glory days of when Colin McLean had been alive, and before Randall’s mother had become ‘ill’.
    Oh, the things she could do with that sandstone homestead if she had the opportunity. Like her mother, Beth was very house-proud and enjoyed the challenge of transforming a house into a charming home. And, from what she’d seen and heard, Drovers Way would definitely benefit from a woman’s touch.
    She smiled in anticipation as she thought about next Saturday. Randall was coming to dinner at Ingleside for her father’s birthday, and she intended to make the evening memorable.
    Danny saw Amy to her front door after the dance, while Randall waited in the Ford. He had lost count of the number of times he’d stood on the Carmichaels’ front verandah over the last year, never wanting the time with Amy to end and feeling empty inside after they parted. He ached to know if she felt the same as he, but agonised over whether he should declare himself. He knew she liked him, liked being with him; but he wanted more than liking, he wanted