through her. Walking side by side with him had done the same.
Even doing those mundane things—not to mention laughing, chatting and sometimes being teased by him,channelled an awareness of him through her pores, both physical and mental.
I love him, she thought suddenly. I love being with him. I love his height and his strength, his hands; I love breathing in his essence. But how can that be? It’s only been a few days…
She looked up suddenly to see him eyeing her with a question in his eyes.
‘Sorry,’ she murmured, going faintly pink. ‘Did you say something?’
‘Only—ready to go?’
‘Oh. Yes. Whenever you are.’
‘Something wrong?’ His dark eyes scanned her intently.
‘No,’ she said slowly—but thought, I don’t know; I just don’t know…
Back at Haywire that afternoon, she took herself to task and forbade any more deep thinking on the subject of Brett Wyndham—in relation to her personally, that was. She went to work on her notes while Brett had his next meeting. She didn’t ask what his business was, but two planes landed on the strip and he was closeted with the passengers for several hours.
She worked in her cabin, going over all the material she’d gathered, including the zoo details, and putting it into order.
She paused once; she was conscious of a lack, a hole in her story about Brett Wyndham, and realized it was the lack of any detail about his father. But there was another lack, she felt, brought on by her vision of him out at Karumba performing dangerous deeds. So farshe had no details about his life as a vet in far-off exotic lands, and she would need that.
She made some notes then paused again and frowned. It occurred to her that if she were asked whether she could capture the essence of Brett Wyndham she would have to say no. There was something missing. But what made her think that? Some invisible barrier in him, drawn fairly and squarely so you couldn’t cross it. The way just occasionally, when he was talking about his life, she sensed that he retreated and you knew without doubt you’d come to a no-go zone.
She realized she’d put it down to him being a genuine loner, but now she couldn’t help wondering if there was more to it.
She shook her head as she wondered if it was her imagination. Then she put her pen down as she heard the noise of aircraft engines, and the two visiting planes taking off. Bella scratched on her door. She let her in and noticed a note attached to her collar with her name on it.
‘Why, Bella,’ she murmured. ‘You clever girl!’
She smoothed the note open and digested the gist of it: a couple of the visitors had decided to stay overnight and would be picked up the following morning. Would Holly care to have dinner with them in about an hour?
Holly sent Bella back with an acceptance penned to the note. Then she went to find Sarah and offer her help, but Sarah was quite restored and wouldn’t hear of it. So Holly showered and changed, this time into slim burgundy trousers and a pale-grey jumper over a white blouse.
It was a pleasant evening.
The two visitors were a couple from a neighbouring station and they proved to be good, lively company. It wasn’t until ten-thirty that Holly excused herself and Brett walked her to her cabin.
‘Had a nice day?’ he enquired when they got there.
Holly turned to him impulsively. ‘I’ve had a lovely day!’
‘That’s good. Ready to fly back to Cairns tomorrow?’
Holly grimaced. ‘Yes, if not willing. But thanks for everything.’ She glanced back towards the homestead where his guests were still sitting. ‘You better get back. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight,’ he echoed, but with an ironic little smile.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she said, then could have shot herself.
‘You do?’ He raised an eyebrow at her.
She clicked her tongue in some exasperation and soldiered on. ‘You’re thinking I’m thinking that I’ve been saved by the bell!’
‘Something like
Even doing those mundane things—not to mention laughing, chatting and sometimes being teased by him,channelled an awareness of him through her pores, both physical and mental.
I love him, she thought suddenly. I love being with him. I love his height and his strength, his hands; I love breathing in his essence. But how can that be? It’s only been a few days…
She looked up suddenly to see him eyeing her with a question in his eyes.
‘Sorry,’ she murmured, going faintly pink. ‘Did you say something?’
‘Only—ready to go?’
‘Oh. Yes. Whenever you are.’
‘Something wrong?’ His dark eyes scanned her intently.
‘No,’ she said slowly—but thought, I don’t know; I just don’t know…
Back at Haywire that afternoon, she took herself to task and forbade any more deep thinking on the subject of Brett Wyndham—in relation to her personally, that was. She went to work on her notes while Brett had his next meeting. She didn’t ask what his business was, but two planes landed on the strip and he was closeted with the passengers for several hours.
She worked in her cabin, going over all the material she’d gathered, including the zoo details, and putting it into order.
She paused once; she was conscious of a lack, a hole in her story about Brett Wyndham, and realized it was the lack of any detail about his father. But there was another lack, she felt, brought on by her vision of him out at Karumba performing dangerous deeds. So farshe had no details about his life as a vet in far-off exotic lands, and she would need that.
She made some notes then paused again and frowned. It occurred to her that if she were asked whether she could capture the essence of Brett Wyndham she would have to say no. There was something missing. But what made her think that? Some invisible barrier in him, drawn fairly and squarely so you couldn’t cross it. The way just occasionally, when he was talking about his life, she sensed that he retreated and you knew without doubt you’d come to a no-go zone.
She realized she’d put it down to him being a genuine loner, but now she couldn’t help wondering if there was more to it.
She shook her head as she wondered if it was her imagination. Then she put her pen down as she heard the noise of aircraft engines, and the two visiting planes taking off. Bella scratched on her door. She let her in and noticed a note attached to her collar with her name on it.
‘Why, Bella,’ she murmured. ‘You clever girl!’
She smoothed the note open and digested the gist of it: a couple of the visitors had decided to stay overnight and would be picked up the following morning. Would Holly care to have dinner with them in about an hour?
Holly sent Bella back with an acceptance penned to the note. Then she went to find Sarah and offer her help, but Sarah was quite restored and wouldn’t hear of it. So Holly showered and changed, this time into slim burgundy trousers and a pale-grey jumper over a white blouse.
It was a pleasant evening.
The two visitors were a couple from a neighbouring station and they proved to be good, lively company. It wasn’t until ten-thirty that Holly excused herself and Brett walked her to her cabin.
‘Had a nice day?’ he enquired when they got there.
Holly turned to him impulsively. ‘I’ve had a lovely day!’
‘That’s good. Ready to fly back to Cairns tomorrow?’
Holly grimaced. ‘Yes, if not willing. But thanks for everything.’ She glanced back towards the homestead where his guests were still sitting. ‘You better get back. Goodnight.’
‘Goodnight,’ he echoed, but with an ironic little smile.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she said, then could have shot herself.
‘You do?’ He raised an eyebrow at her.
She clicked her tongue in some exasperation and soldiered on. ‘You’re thinking I’m thinking that I’ve been saved by the bell!’
‘Something like
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