Heart of the Outback by Lynne Wilding

his own way. Success had come to himlike a dutiful magnet and Australian as well as international businessmen and companies courted him with due reverence. He was what her friend, journalist Trish Pentano, called a financial enigma of mega-watt proportions. She smiled smugly to herself as he sat beside her at the table. One day all that CJ Ambrose owned would be hers.
    “How’s everyone this morning?” CJ asked with unusual affability. Since Richard’s death he had had to force himself to be pleasant and civil, even to these three people who were closest to him.
    “Fine,” Shellie said as she poured him a cup of coffee.
    “Great,” Les Westcott answered. He folded the newspaper in half and put it on the cane coffee table so that he could give CJ his full attention. “I’ve been to the bunkhouse and given the crews their orders for the next few days. That new foreman, Mike Hunter, seems to know his stuff. Gets on well with the men too.”
    “Good. What about Lisa in the office? Did you tell her I wanted the report on that Hong Kong deal faxed to me as soon as it comes through?”
    “Sure did. It should be at the Hilton by the time we reach Cairns.”
    “I’m coming to Cairns too, CJ,” Natalie put in with a defiant glare at Les.
    “That’s fine.” CJ paused to look his stepdaughter up and down. He frowned. “Natalie, haven’t I said before that you should come to the table dressed. Swimmers and a see-through robe aren’t appropriate.”
    “Usually I do get dressed, but this morning Shellie brought breakfast out early, just after I’d finished my swim. I didn’t think anyone would mind.”
    “Well, I mind. What if we had guests? Business people?”
    She made a moue and smiled at him. “Maybe you’d cut the deal faster. Most businessmen are susceptible to a pretty woman, you know,” she said cheekily.
    “Is that how you do your business deals,” Les questioned, “in a bikini and robe? No wonder you’re so successful.”
    CJ’s frown deepened. “Don’t start, you two.”
    Like Shellie and the considerable complement of staff that made up Murrundi Downs station, CJ was aware of the tension between Les and Natalie. He didn’t know the cause or need the aggravation, not after losing Richard. Somehow, with Richard around to act as a buffer and a natural peacemaker, the two had managed to get on. Both strong personalities, without the gentler influence of his son, their true natures were coming out.
    Shellie began to fuss, rattling the plates as she put the used ones back on the tray. “I’ll go warm the eggs up.”
    “Don’t bother. I’m not hungry. Fresh toast will do,” CJ told her curtly. He gave his sister a sharp look, and wondered if she’d been tippling. It was unusual for her to get stuck into the grog this early in the morning, but having Natalie around tended to make her more nervous than usual. He knew that his sister rarely got drunk, but by midafternoon these days one expected her to have a glow up. She’d never gotten over her husband Peter leaving her for a younger, more beautiful woman, so CJ’d brought her here when Brenda’s cancer had got too much tohandle and she had stayed on. Though he secretly admitted to a certain fondness for his only sibling, her weakness, as he called it, often made him respond sharply to her.
    Dismissing the irritation of his sister from his mind, he clapped his hands for attention. “You know, we’ve all been in the doldrums since Richard…” there was no need to finish the sentence. “I’ve been thinking lately that the property needs sprucing up. We’re running out of space here. When Brenda designed the house she didn’t allow for entertaining important dignitaries, foreign businessmen or,” he glanced at Natalie, “half-a-dozen friends at a time. And, frankly, I’m getting tired of running around to business meetings in Cairns and Brisbane.”
    “What do you mean? You want to pull the house down and build another?” Les asked.