скачать книгу бесплатно
She was so busy fighting her panic by composing more tributes to her bravery and courage that it was some time before it finally sank in that the animals were trotting past without paying her any particular attention. The man on horseback acknowledged her with a brief nod as he went by, then turned his mob into another lane.
Camille sagged against the pen as her breath escaped. She was still alive. She hadn’t spooked the cattle. The guy on the horse had given her a casual nod as if she had every right to be here.
How about that? Her coat and boots must have done the trick. She looked as if she belonged. She felt inordinately pleased with herself.
Something nudged her elbow and she whipped around to discover a large, damp and very bovine nose sniffing her sleeve. Oh, God! The pen she’d been leaning against was full of another lot of cattle! She suppressed the urge to panic again. It was OK. These four-footed fellows were securely inside the pen. Nothing to worry about here. A snap.
She allowed a few minutes for her heartbeats to steady and her breathing to settle and realised that the pen she’d chosen to lean against was becoming a matter of some interest. Half a dozen or more cattlemen were joining her to stare over the fence at the beasts.
But the men hardly gave Camille a second glance.
Wow! This confirmation that she looked like a country girl gave her fresh confidence. Now she could track down Jonno Rivers through any amount of mud.
There was a rising babble of voices around her and the excited chanting of an auctioneer calling cattle prices. ‘One-forty, one-forty! Hup! One-forty-five!’
She paid little attention. She was scanning the metal walkways above the pens for signs of Jonno and she thought she glimpsed him. This time she wouldn’t let him go till she got what she’d come for.
Her view was blocked by the press of men around the pen and she stood on the bottom rung of the fence to get a better view. Above her, a promising set of shoulders and a slow, almost insolent stride came into her line of sight. Yes, it was Jonno.
‘One-fifty-five!’ the auctioneer’s voice shouted.
She had no idea how to get up to that suspended walkway. If she could at least get Jonno’s attention…Standing on tiptoes, she waved.
‘Hup! One-sixty!’
Jonno was looking at a point just beyond her. She waved again.
‘One-sixty twice!’
Camille glanced briefly in the direction of the strident voice. The auctioneer was standing on the same walkway as Jonno but directly above her, pointing straight at her. All around her, men were moving away from the pen, heading off down the lane.
A ghastly suspicion sent shivers chasing down her back and arms. No, he couldn’t think that she—
‘One-sixty!’ the auctioneer shouted, staring straight at her. ‘Hup! I’ve got one-sixty! Going for one-sixty. Sold!’
‘Congratulations,’ said a voice at her side.
She whirled around to find the ruddy-faced man who’d fetched Jonno for her.
‘Oh, good grief!’ She gulped. ‘You’re not congratulating me, are you?’
His beaming, slice-of-watermelon smile widened. ‘Sure am. You’ve bought a fine pen of weaner steers.’
‘I have not!’ She gasped. ‘I can’t have. Tell me you’re joking.’
The man slapped his hand on the top rail of the pen. ‘This mob of little beauties here. All yours.’
‘But I was waving to Jonno Rivers. I…’ She flashed a frantic glance back to the auctioneer, but he simply gave a curt salute to the man at her side, then headed towards another pen. ‘It can’t happen like that,’ she spluttered. ‘I’m not a genuine buyer. How—how on earth could he have thought I wanted a pen of cattle?’
‘You were standing next to me.’
‘What’s that got to do with anything?’
‘I’m a stock and station agent. Brian must have assumed you were one of my clients.’
‘Oh, my God!’ She pressed a shaking hand to her forehead. ‘You’ll go and tell him it’s a mistake, won’t you?’
‘You don’t want these steers?’
‘Of course I don’t want them.’ She sent a scathing glance over the pen of cattle and let out a laughing groan. ‘What on earth would I do with them? I live in a one-bedroom flat in Kings Cross. My courtyard is smaller than this pen.’
‘You could put them out on agistment.’
A deep voice sounded at her back. ‘Is this woman hassling you, Andy?’
Camille spun around to find a scowling Jonno Rivers close behind her. His suspicious gaze was cold enough to freeze an ocean. Two oceans.
‘Jonno,’ greeted the ever cheerful Andy. ‘You’re just the man we need.’
Camille wasn’t so sure. She’d had about as much as she could take of this pesky cattleman and his sulky silence and his stinking cattle. Her fists curled against her thighs and she felt an overwhelming urge to thump him on the nose.
‘This young lady seems to have a little problem,’ the agent explained calmly. ‘But I’m sure you can help her, mate.’ He glanced at his watch. ‘Sorry, Jonno, I’ve got to see a man about a bull. Catch you later.’ With a brief salute, he hurried away.
Camille’s stomach and head were spinning as she gaped after him. She felt exhausted as she turned back to Jonno. ‘At least you’ve had the guts to show up,’ she muttered. ‘This is all your fault, so you’ll have to do something about it.’
CHAPTER TWO
JONNO took ages to respond.
He stood with his long legs planted wide and his arms folded over his broad chest and he looked down at Camille without any sign of sympathy. ‘Before you get too carried away with accusations,’ he said at last, ‘could you please explain what’s going on?’
‘I was simply waving at you,’ she said. ‘And…’ She ran nervous fingers through her curls, annoyed by his air of remoteness.
‘And?’
‘And apparently I bought these cows.’
He glanced at the pen beside her. ‘They’re steers.’
‘Cows, steers, whatever. They have four legs and they say “moo” and I don’t want them.’
A muscle in his cheek twitched and he looked away, then heaved a deep sigh as he stared at something in the distance. ‘I knew you were going to be more trouble than the others.’
‘I beg your pardon?’
He swung his gaze back to settle coldly over her. ‘Did you reckon I’d find you more attractive if you threw in a pen of steers as a bribe?’
Camille gaped at him. ‘You think I bought them as some kind of…of bait—like a dowry? To make myself more appealing to you?’
He didn’t reply, but a slight inclination of his head suggested an answer in the affirmative.
Where did this guy get off? He had an ego bigger than the outback! ‘You really think I fancy you?’
His big shoulders moved in a faint shrug. ‘You’re trailing after me, aren’t you?’
She had to shove her curling fists deep into her pockets before she did something really foolish. He was actually far too big to punch. ‘How about you clean your ears out and listen, mate?’ she said slowly and loudly and with what she felt was an impressive degree of menace. ‘I came out here because you reneged on your agreement with Girl Talk magazine. I have absolutely no interest in you as a date.’
She flung her arms out in a wide, sweeping gesture to take in the mud and the cattle. ‘Could you honestly believe I would be way out here splashing around in mud and muck if I had a choice? It’s certainly not my idea of fun. As for boyfriends, I have as many guys in Sydney as I—as I need. And the last—the very last—kind of man I’m looking for is a cowboy!’
For good measure she added, ‘And I haven’t the slightest interest in getting married. Not ever. Not to anyone. In case you haven’t caught up with the latest statistics, there’s a whole generation of girls like me who are not desperate to sacrifice ourselves on the matrimonial altar.’
His obvious surprise gave her a measure of satisfaction. And for the first time she thought she saw a hint of amusement lurking in the depths of his hazel eyes.
‘I think I believe you,’ he said.
‘Well, hallelujah!’ Nodding towards the cattle, she finished her speech. ‘You might also be able to accept the fact that buying these guys was a complete accident that’s turned a rotten day for me into a total disaster.’
A suspicion of a smile played around his mouth. ‘Did you pay a good price for them?’
‘I wouldn’t have a clue. But that’s not the point.’
‘It’s very much the point. And so is whether or not you have the money to pay for them.’
‘But I don’t want them.’ Camille scowled at him and then at the cattle standing meekly in their pen. ‘I’ve no idea if I can afford them,’ she admitted. ‘How much are they?’
He shrugged. ‘Fifteen weaner steers…at a good weight. I’d say you’re looking at somewhere around six thousand dollars.’
‘No way!’ She suppressed an urge to add a few swear words. ‘I’m saving for a trip to Paris and that’s almost my entire savings! I’m not going to blow it on a pen of cattle.’
She’d been saving madly over the past twelve months. Hadn’t bought any new clothes in all that time! Well…hardly any. And now her dreams were toppling like a collapsed football scrum.
All her lovely dreams…of travelling to see her father again after twelve long years, of discovering her favourite sculptures in the Musée Rodin, of hunting for exciting little cafés in the back streets of Montmartre, or buying something chic and extravagant on the Champs-Élysées…
In a few short minutes those dreams were gone, to be replaced by a nightmare…a pen of fifteen weaner steers in outback Queensland.
Desperate, she rounded on Jonno. ‘How can I get out of this?’
He shrugged his massive shoulders. ‘I’m not sure.’
‘Can I sue someone?’
‘The vendor could probably sue you if you don’t honour the bid.’
‘Oh, hell!’ Camille closed her eyes and tried to calm her rising panic. She needed to think clearly. There had to be a solution to this crazy situation. Her head was spinning. ‘I can’t think about this without coffee.’
‘There’s a canteen.’
She opened her eyes and squinted at him. ‘Good. Let me shout you a coffee.’ When he didn’t answer, she added, ‘Just coffee, Jonno. Not a date. Not a marriage proposal. I just want you on one side of a table, me on the other, a cup of coffee in my hand and a little market advice. If you were struggling to find a taxi in Sydney, or if you were out of your depth in Kings Cross, I’d do the same for you.’
He looked at her quizzically for a moment or two, but then to her relief he nodded. ‘The canteen’s this way.’
He led her down several muddy lanes lined with pens of bellowing beasts until they reached concrete paths and buildings that housed various administrative offices for the sale yards. After they scraped their boots on a rough outdoor mat, Jonno pushed open large glass doors.
Inside, the canteen was crowded with hungry cattlemen and their wives, but it was warm and clean and Camille could see a counter with shiny urns spouting steam and she could smell the fragrant aroma of coffee at last.
Jonno wouldn’t let her pay and she accepted that country guys were probably still old-fashioned about things like that. With her hands wrapped around a warm mug, she inhaled the familiar aroma of her favourite beverage and took a quick, fortifying sip before they reached their table near a window in the corner. Jonno had bought two packets of sandwiches as well. Wholesome, grainy, country bread filled with cold roast meat, pickles and salad.
‘So you want help to get rid of your cattle,’ he said, once they were settled.
Camille nodded. ‘Yes, please.’ Then she took another deep sip of coffee before setting down her mug. ‘You wouldn’t like to buy them, would you?’
His mouth tilted into the familiar, crooked smile that had caused so much of a stir in the Girl Talk office. She noticed that the hazel in his eyes was a fascinating mixture of brown and gold with little flecks of green.
‘No, thanks,’ he said. ‘I came to these sales today to sell, not to buy. It’s not exactly a buyers’ market.’
She sighed. So much for a simple, straightforward solution. ‘Can I throw them right back on the market and sell them tomorrow?’
His smile faded as he looked thoughtful. ‘It’s possible…But before we get too worried about that, why don’t you tell me why you’ve come all the way up here from Sydney?’
Camille’s breath escaped on a gasp of surprise. Buying a pen of cattle had a good side? It got Jonno Rivers talking? Wow! She hadn’t expected this breakthrough moment, but she might as well cut straight to the chase. ‘I’m here to find out what game you’re playing.’
‘I’m not playing anything.’
‘You know you’ve been playing games with our magazine. You haven’t answered our letters or phone calls.’
He showed no sign of apology. ‘Why should I cooperate with totally irresponsible journalism?’
‘Irresponsible?’ Her right eyebrow lifted, but she willed herself to stay calm. Now that she had him in her sights, she had to take extra care not to frighten him off. ‘Why do you say that?’
‘You expect me to fuel the dangerous illusions of a mob of silly, gullible women, who believe these bachelors you’ve unearthed are desperate for marriage and commitment.’
‘We never gave the impression our bachelors are desperate. Heavens, Jonno, they’re all heartthrobs.’ After a beat, she added, ‘Like you.’
He looked distinctly uncomfortable.
‘We chose gorgeous, well-heeled guys, who for some reason—whether it’s geographical isolation or twenty-four-seven commitment to their brilliant careers—are still single, but seeking a wife.’
When he didn’t respond, she added, ‘The reaction from readers has been amazing. We had no idea there were still so many women actively hunting for husbands.’
‘Unlike you,’ he challenged. ‘That’s another thing. How can someone who doesn’t even believe in marriage pretend that it’s so damn wonderful?’
‘How do you know what I think of marriage?’ Camille asked, then flinched. ‘Oh, yeah. It was the seminal text of my sermon in the cattle stalls, wasn’t it?’
She felt strangely caught out—embarrassed to realise that in the heat of the moment she’d aired her personal views about relationships to this man. This too, too sexy man.
She jabbed her finger at a piece of shredded lettuce that had fallen from her sandwich. ‘So I take it there’s been a mistake. You’re as allergic to marriage as I am.’
‘I never said I didn’t want marriage.’
