Heart of the Outback by Emma Darcy

you sit with us?” Gareth asked, his blue eyes trying to probe the depth of her hostility towards them.
    “Of course. We don’t turn anyone away here. Not even the scoundrels,” Alida answered, her eyes mocking his concern.
    They both waited until she had seated herself. The cane furniture was old and squeaky. Alida remembered her father buying it for her mother the Christmas she was ten years old. The wide veranda was a favourite place to sit and watch the sunset when the day’s work was done. It had been a good year, the year she was ten.
    “When did you arrive?” she asked.
    “A couple of hours ago,” Gareth answered.
    “I expect you’ll be staying the night, then.”
    “Your mother kindly offered us rooms.” He paused, then slowly added, “She’s been telling us about your life here, Alida.”
    “If you’d looked at what I create, my life here is woven into every design,” Alida said, not letting him see her bitter resentment at his lack of interest and his lack of perception in branding her a loose-living city woman. “The geometrical pattern on the culotte I’m wearing is derived from Aboriginal drawings in one of the caves on this station. The grey-green of my pullover is the colour of the spinifex that is the main vegetation of the inland.”
    “I’m sorry. I hadn’t noticed that kind of detail,” he said quietly.
    Alida dismissed his answer with a shrug. “Most men don’t.”
    “It’s… it’s very clever,” Stacey offered nervously.
    Alida found it difficult to look at Gareth’s daughter with any semblance of equanimity, but she forced herself to acknowledge the comment. “There are obviously some people who think so.”
    The words came out so coldly that the girl shrank back into her chair and bit her lips. Her eyes darted to her father, imploring his guidance. He had undoubtedly coached her for this meeting, Alida cynically decided. Stacey was obviously frightened of putting any foot wrong today.
    Gareth, however, wasn’t watching his daughter. His gaze was fastened on Alida, seeing the hard pride on her smooth beautiful face, the flat rejection in her green eyes, the wall she was putting between them.
    “How far is it to the eastern run?” he asked.
    Alida regarded him balefully. “Thinking of walking, Gareth?”
    “No. I was thinking of driving. The vehicle you came in should take us wherever we have to go. The sooner we get this situation sorted out, the better.” He stood up. “I suggest you come with me so that we can discuss what’s best to be done before you introduce me to our son.”
    Alida came out of her chair, fighting mad at his arrogant assumption of authority. “You think you can commandeer my Range Rover? Just like that? Order me around as though you’re in charge of everything? Well, let me tell you, Gareth Morgan, you’re going to have very little say in my son’s life!”
    The determination carved on his face remained rocklike. There was not one flicker of uncertainty in the blazing blue eyes. “You prefer to sit around all afternoon, Alida?” he challenged. “What good purpose will that serve? Do you want our son to walk into the kind of hostile atmosphere you’re creating here?”
    “I’m not creating it,” she denied hotly, but he had a point, Alida privately conceded. She was still off-balance at being confronted by Gareth and his daughter in her own home. She hadn’t even begun to think ahead to their meeting with Andy.
    “I realise you must be tired of driving,” Gareth pressed on. “It will be easier on you if you sit in the passenger seat and direct me.”
    “Fine! I have quite a lot of direction to give you, Gareth,” Alida bit out, determined to regain the initiative.
    He turned to his daughter. “Stacey, stay here. I wish to get things settled with Alida.”
    “Yes, Dad,” she muttered in a tone of flat resignation.
    No joy there, Alida thought. No joy anywhere. “If you’ll excuse me for a few moments,” she said coldly.