Outback Wife and Mother

Fletcher put down his cup of coffee and stood up. He looked at her so sadly Ally felt tears spring to her eyes.

‘Ally, I’m sorry about this...’

‘Don’t be, Fletcher. You have to go.’

‘No, I mean I’m sony about us, about coming back and making things worse. If I’d left on Monday...’ He reached down and scooped her into his arms. ‘I should have been stronger. Should have been able to resist your spell. You’re so damn beautiful, Ally.’

How perfectly her body nestled into his. How much she wanted him to go on telling her she was beautiful.

‘But what you’re trying to say is...we come from two different, totally incompatible worlds,’ she said, her voice shaking with the effort to sound calm.

‘Too right,’ he sighed. ‘You do understand, sweetheart, don’t you?’

She nodded her head against his chest. Her throat was burning with hot tears. Fletcher’s long fingers played with her hair.

‘They warn us so much these days about the need for physical protection in a relationship, but that’s easy to look after. But protecting our emotions, that’s a different story.’

‘Perhaps there’s a solution,’ she couldn’t help adding.

‘No, I’ve thought and thought about it. There’s no way ahead for us, Ally. You have your career and I have my cattle.’

‘City girls have been happy in the country before today,’ she offered timidly. ‘Perhaps I should come and live with you on Wallaroo Downs.’

He broke away from her then, staring at her, his sky blue eyes puzzled, clearly shocked by her words. He shook his head slowly.

‘That’s a pretty fairy tale, and if it could come true I’d be the happiest man alive, but it wouldn’t—it couldn’t end in happily ever after.’

Ally felt a painful lump form in her throat, preventing a reply.

‘You see,’ he continued, the tone in his voice a daunting mixture of tenderness and regret, ‘there are more differences between us than my paddocks and your tar and cement. You’d hate the life I lead, Ally. You live in a world you’ve worked so hard to reach—and it’s so elegant and artistic.’

‘It’s not glamorous all the time,’ Ally managed to protest.

‘Sewing machine oil is the closest you’d come to grease and dirt,’ he said with a lopsided smile that wrenched at her heart. ‘I’m just sorry I’ve messed you up. I’ve never done anything so damned stupid in my life before.’

Ally’s chin came up defiantly. ‘I don’t think it was at all stupid. I’ve never had anything so wonderful happen to me—ever.’

Fletcher groaned and pulled her to him. ‘Listen, passionfruit,’ he whispered, ‘I have to pack and then I’m going to Sydney. And after that I’ll almost certainly have to get back to Wallaroo. There’s a muster coming up and I have to be back for that. Then, with a bit of luck, there’ll be a wet season. I can’t see us getting together again in a long while. You’re a beautiful, clever woman and this is where you belong. You have to get on with your brilliant career. There’s no other way of looking at this.’

She knew that as a woman of the nineties she should be able to handle this. People had relationships and then they moved on. It was as simple as that. It happened all around her all the time.

But not to her.

Ally glanced at the clock on the wall behind Fletcher. If he were to make it to his flight, he would have to get moving.

‘I’ll check out the laundry basket. See if you’ve left anything there,’ she said grimly with a small, dismissive shrug of her shoulders.

Fletcher packed in silence while Ally tidied the kitchen. They had never been so quick and efficient together. She insisted on driving him to the airport.

As her small sedan zipped along the freeway, she tried to forget about her own sadness and think of the poor little boy left without parents.

‘This little boy, Connor. Do you know him very well?’ she asked.

‘No. I have to admit, I haven’t seen all that much of him,’ admitted Fletcher. ‘I went to his christening when he was just a tiny tadpole—hadn’t even reached the ankle-biter stage. He must be three or four now. Last time I saw him he’d just started toddling around. As far as I remember, he looks like Jock.’ His voice broke a little. ‘Brown hair and eyes—going to be tall.’

Once they reached the busy, bustling airport, and Fletcher had queued then checked in, there was little time for conversation. And there was certainly no privacy for the kinds of things Ally would have liked to discuss. All too soon the flight to Sydney was boarding and for the last time she felt Fletcher’s strong arms around her, and his warm, delicious lips on hers.

‘Be beautiful, Ally,’ he whispered, his eyes glistening with a betraying dampness. Then he swung away quickly and strode through the doors of the departure lounge, leaving her without looking back.

She was prepared for his silence; she hadn’t expected him to ring her from Sydney. And she was prepared for the sense of desolation that swamped her. But what she hadn’t expected was the lassitude with which she returned to her work. She’d hoped that once back in the swing of things, the old enthusiasm for dealing with designs, textiles and market trends and the fascinating array of individuals associated with that world would rescue her from her misery.

It was with a growing sense of alarm that she faced each day at the office. She took her designs home to work on at night, hoping the soothing atmosphere of her own apartment would help inspiration to flow. With the spring and summer collection behind her, Ally had to plan for next year’s winter season and a juicy contract with the wool board was on offer. Normally she would have been thrilled. But she couldn’t concentrate and what was worse, much, much worse, she couldn’t bring herself to care.

Her mind and her emotions were totally absorbed with Fletcher. Where was he now? Had he gone back to North Queensland? Had he taken little Connor with him? Did he think about her the way she thought endlessly of him?

After three weeks of silence and despair, she could stand it no longer. She had to make some kind of contact with him. Her first step was to ring Lucette.

‘Have I heard from Fletcher, Ally?’ Lucette repeated, her voice squeaking with surprise at Ally’s first question once the greetings were over. ‘Why, yes, I have actually. He rang from North Queensland just yesterday.’

‘You see,’ Ally offered with a silly little laugh, ‘I ended up seeing quite a bit of him while he was down here, but then he was called away for the funeral...’ Her voice trailed away as her tightly strung nerves clenched a notch tighter.

The stunned silence on the other end of the line didn’t help her feel any more relaxed.

‘Really?’ Lucette managed at last.

‘Does he have the little boy with him?’

‘No, not yet Connor’s still in Sydney with his grandparents. But as a matter of fact that’s why Fletcher rang me. He’s guardian for Connor and he wants me to find a nanny to travel up to Wallaroo Downs and help take care of him there.’

Ally closed her eyes against the frightening wave of dizziness that swamped her as a host of different pictures crowded her mind: pictures of Fletcher, sun-tanned, astride a horse somewhere in North Queensland; of Fletcher and a little brown-haired, brown-eyed boy walking hand in hand along a shady creek bank; of a young attractive nanny living with them both day in, day out.

‘Ally, are you still there?’

‘Yes, Lucette. I’m here. Listen, would you mind terribly much if I came and visited you? I need to talk.’

‘That’s fine,’ replied Lucette, unable to disguise her surprise. ‘I’ll be home all evening. You have my address?’

‘But, Ally, this is impossible!’ Lucette exclaimed an hour later as the two women sat opposite each other at the kitchen table in her tiny bed-sit apartment. ‘For starters you underestimate the stubbornness of the Hardy male. There’s no way Fletcher would have someone like you as a nanny on Wallaroo Downs.’

Ally’s chest tightened painfully at Lucette’s words.

‘I think Fletcher came to care for me. In fact I know he did.’

Something in her expression seemed to capture Lucette’s attention. She stared at Ally for several silent moments and then she reached over and took Ally’s hand.

‘I’m sure he does feel very strongly about you,’ she said gently. ‘Fletcher’s usually very wary about getting entangled with women, because of where he lives. He believes only women who grow up in the bush can take the harsh life of the outback. So if he allowed you to understand he cared...’ Lucette paused and smiled ruefully. ‘Then I’d say chances are he was totally smitten.’

‘I’m prepared to take a gamble on it.’

‘But your career!’ Lucette cried. ‘How could you possibly turn your back on everything you’ve achieved?’

‘I don’t know,’ admitted Ally. ‘A month ago I would have said it was totally impossible, but...’ She paused, taking in a deep shuddering breath. ‘Have you ever been in love, Lucette?’

‘Of course,’ the girl laughed, ‘hundreds of times.’

‘No. I’m talking the real thing. I can’t go on without him. I can’t work. I can’t eat or sleep.’ She paused and shook her head at Lucette’s wide-eyed response. ‘I can’t believe I’m saying all this. I used to be the first person to condemn girls who went all drippy over males. I mean, I used to think that all it took to resist falling into that kind of trap was a modicum of intelligence. But honestly, Lucette, I’ve no choice. I’ve got to go to him.’

Lucette sighed and refilled Ally’s coffee cup. ‘Ally, I really feel for you, believe me. But I don’t think Fletcher would have a bar of it. And it wouldn’t be because he doesn’t care for you. It’s simply that he couldn’t imagine how you could possibly be happy out there. He’d worry about taking you away from everything you’ve achieved.’ Lucette eyed her crestfallen friend with concern. ‘This is all my fault!’

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, if I hadn’t been so jolly eager to show off my set designs when he was in Melbourne for that conference, he would never have come to the show and fallen for the lovely Alexandra Fraser.’

Ally closed her stinging, tear-filled eyes as she remembered that moment when a tall, dark grazier marched into the models’ dressing room! She stared into her coffee cup. ‘I think I’ve got to do it, Lucette. I’m prepared for everyone telling me I’m mad. I’m prepared for Fletcher to be a little angry at first, but I think he’ll get over it. It’s just that I’ve found someone I love more than my career and I think I can convince him of that, too. I’ve fallen in love and I can’t just sit here and do absolutely zilch about it!’

‘Well, apart from anything else we’ve covered, there might still be one major hitch,’ said Lucette tentatively.

‘Which is?’ asked Ally, lifting her chin in a brave effort at defiance.

‘What experience have you had as a nanny?’

‘Aha! I can answer that,’ cried Ally triumphantly. ‘All the time I was at college, I worked as a nanny for the Johnstons. You know Dr. James Johnston and his wife Helen—the paediatricians? Nights, weekends, holidays. I looked after their four children on and off for three and a half years.’

Lucette raised her fair eyebrows and looked back at Ally with eyes the same sky blue as Fletcher’s. She took a long, deep swig of her coffee. ‘Then perhaps we’d better take a closer look at this,’ she said with a solemnity which was totally spoiled when her face broke into a cheeky grin, again alarmingly like her cousin’s. ‘But we’re going to have to plan it all very carefully.’

CHAPTER THREE

THE best laid plans of mice and men... The unwelcome quotation flashed through Ally’s mind again as it had on repeated occasions over recent weeks. But now, with Connor’s little hand clinging to hers as she crossed the steamy car park at Townsville airport, she refused to think of defeat. Together with Lucette, she had schemed and plotted so that this risky enterprise would run like clockwork and the journey was almost complete.

She’d been nervous about going to Sydney to meet Connor, but the few days she’d spent there getting to know the little boy had been delightful. They had enjoyed a trip to the beach and to Taronga Park Zoo, as well as some quiet times at his grandparents’ house. Then, to her relief, he had come with her and Lucette on the plane night to Townsville without objection. All that was left was the final leg—driving out to Wallaroo Downs.

And to Fletcher.

Ally shifted the weight of her large carry bag higher onto her shoulder and smiled at Connor, who looked back at her with trusting, big brown eyes.

‘This should be our vehicle,’ said Lucette, indicating a sturdy-looking station wagon in the line-up of hire cars. She pushed their heavily loaded luggage carrier the last few metres and clicked the central locking button on her key. ‘Hey, presto! Look, Connor,’ Lucette cried as she swung the car door open. ‘Magic doors!’

But Ally could feel Connor backing away, his hand in hers struggling to be freed.

‘No!’ he cried. ‘No! I don’t like that car!’ His little face contorted in fear as he tried to pull away.

Ally dropped to her knees and threw her arms around him.

‘No!’ he sobbed. ‘I don’t like that car!’ His voice rose in alarm, but he clung to Ally. She could feel his little body trembling and her heart nearly broke for him.

‘Oh, you poor darling,’ Ally murmured as she hugged him to her. She realised at once that his parents must have been driving a similar car when they were taken from him so horrifically.

Lucette hovered uncertainly near the luggage.

‘Sweetheart, look. I’ve got something to show you,’ Ally said as she dipped her hand into the large carry bag and drew out a soft toy she’d been keeping for such a moment.

The sobs subsided slightly. ‘What—what is it?’ Connor hiccupped, staring through his tears at the furry brown creature Ally held.

‘It’s a platypus, Connor. I had him made just for you.’ A plump little hand reached tentatively towards the ball of fur.

‘Plat-pus?’ he whispered.

‘That’s right,’ said Ally. ‘See, he has a fluffy tummy and a lovely black bill and four little black feet.’

Connor fingered one webbed foot, beautifully crafted from the finest black leather.

‘That’s amazing,’ exclaimed Lucette from behind them. ‘It’s so lifelike. Did you have it made at work?’

Ally nodded. ‘A few people owed me favours.’ She spoke to Connor. ‘Real platypuses live in creeks out in the bush. And that’s where we’re going. Uncle Fletcher lives there, too.’

‘Can I hold the plat-pus?’

‘Of course you can, darling. He’s yours to keep.’ Aware that Lucette was quietly loading their luggage into the back of the station wagon, Ally continued talking as Connor cuddled his new toy. ‘When I was a little girl, my favourite story was about a platypus called Shy. Would you like me to tell it to you?’

The little boy nodded solemnly, blinking away his tears.

‘Well let’s you, me and your platypus make ourselves comfortable in the back of the car here and I’ll tell you about Shy.’ Ally held her breath as she gently guided Connor towards the car door. He hesitated and turned to her.

‘Can I call my plat-pus Shy?’

‘Of course you can. It’s a lovely name, isn’t it,’ Ally reassured him, and he allowed himself to be buckled into his car seat without another murmur.

And as Ally began her story of the platypus family who lived in the riverbank, Lucette slipped into the driver’s seat and the car slowly edged out into the traffic.

Shy had been a big hit with Connor, Ally reflected hours later, as she sedately guided a gentle mare down a quiet bush track at Wallaroo Downs. One hurdle had been cleared, but a still higher one faced her. She had yet to discover how Fletcher would react when he returned from a day’s branding to find her already settled into his home.

Grateful for the shady protection of whispering casuarinas, she tried to shrug off her nervousness by focusing on the soothing sounds of the quiet bush; the steady clip, clop of Juno’s carefid,steps and the peaceful hum of cicadas in the trees around her.

No wonder Fletcher loved his outback. It was so remote, so alien in its stark, dry beauty—another world. Separated from Melbourne by thousands of kilometres, it was hard to believe she was still in the same country. On the drive inland from Townsville airport they’d travelled through heat and dust and past endless paddocks of brown, lifeless-looking stubble, but here, by the creek, it was cool and shady and perfectly serene.

Until... the afternoon peace was split by the sudden roar of a motorbike.

To Ally’s horror, her startled horse whinnied and reared, hooves striking at the air. Then, within breathless seconds, she felt the reins snatched from her trembling hands and a furious voice roared at her.

‘Alexandra? What the hell are you doing here?’

Panic Bared!

Common sense should have told her the danger was over. The dreadful motorbike’s engine had cut off, the mare was calming down and the bush was quickly returning to its former languid stillness. So she knew the wild thumping of her heart was an overreaction. There was no longer any excuse for her to crouch low against Juno’s neck with her eyes squeezed tightly shut.

Except that she knew that voice.

She knew exactly who was bellowing at her and it was the very last person she wanted to meet until all her plans were in place.

He wasn’t supposed to be down here!

With trepidation, she lifted her head, blinked, and her stomach clenched. A fiercely scowling Fletcher stood within arm’s reach, Juno’s reins gripped tightly in one strong brown hand.

She found herself fighting a nervous urge to look away, yet she forced her eyes to hold Fletcher’s scalding gaze. Agitated as she was, she couldn’t stifle a swift glow of admiration. He was as rugged and tall, as wideshouldered and lean-limbed as the memory she had treasured these past weeks. And his eyes, piercing blue as ever, were a perfect match for the flashes of brilliant sky she glimpsed between the swamp bloodwoods behind him. But the smile, the special, heart-flipping grin, was missing. She had never known Fletcher not to smile at her!

This was nothing like the reception she had hoped for and pictured hundreds of times during the last few weeks. She manoeuvred her strained features into something resembling a smile.

‘Er...hello, Fletcher... I’m, um, I’m practising riding.’

‘I see.’ His clipped reply dropped unhelpfully into the space between them.

Ally shivered. It was then she noticed the trail bike he’d abandoned when she and Juno blundered onto his path, now slewed against an old tree stump a metre or so behind him. The realisation of her guilt sent her heart sinking further.

‘I’m sorry I nearly ran into you.’

The apology was clearly not accepted. Fletcher merely continued to glare at her in silent anger while her wretched eyes took in more details. His crow-black hair, his bare chest and shoulders all glistened with water and his jeans clung to his hips and thighs in dark, damp patches that blatantly outlined his flagrant masculinity.

‘You’ve been swimming?’ she stammered.

‘Yes,’ he replied. The briefest flicker of a smile twitched the corners of his mouth. ‘If you’d been a few minutes earlier, you would have found me in the creek.’

Heat stole into her cheeks. He would have been swimming naked. She had no doubt about that.

She whipped her eyes away from his damp lower region as he growled at her, without smiling. ‘I suppose it’s too much to ask for an explanation as to why you’ve suddenly appeared here, and just happen to be riding one of my horses without any invitation?’

‘I was planning to give you a very good explanation.’

‘Planning, Ally? Hell! You practically caused a serious accident.’

His hostility was enough to wither her tiny stock of courage even before she began to defend herself.

‘I said I’m sorry.’ Ally’s grey eyes blazed briefly, then her lashes lowered over them as she mumbled her excuse. ‘Your stockman said I could use this horse—that you were out branding somewhere. I didn’t know—’

‘You came over three thousand kilometres just to take in a little horse riding practice?’

She nearly lost her nerve there and then. Clearly he regarded her as an intruder—uninvited and unwanted. Tears gathered swiftly, burning the backs of her lids.

How could this happen? This was the man she loved! This was her Fletcher! He had come to the city and made exquisite love to her and changed her life forever. But now he had the audacity to glare at her with outright rejection clearly stamped in the firm set of his jaw, the frowning black stripe of his eyebrows and the whiteknuckled clench of his fists.

She took an agonising breath hoping to calm her frantic, self-defeating thoughts. ‘You’re surprised to see me,’ she whispered, and her wide eyes anxiously darted away from his unyielding gaze.

‘Surprise is one word I could choose, I guess,’ Fletcher drawled, his deep voice rumbling with sarcasm. But now he was staring back at her, hard. His eyes travelled—very deliberately—over her slim frame, her jeans and soft, white shirt buttoned low over a pale lavender crop top. They rested for the longest time on her pale face. ‘What are you doing here?’ he repeated, his voice less harsh this time, as if he had run out of breath suddenly.

‘I—I’ve—Your cousin and I have brought your little godson—Connor.’ The words tumbled out of control like beads spilling from a broken necklace.

Fletcher scowled. ‘You came with Lucette?’

‘Yes. You’re his guardian now...’

‘I know damn well I’m his guardian, but what I still don’t understand is what you’ve got to do with it?’

‘Well, Lucette was looking for a nanny for Connor so that you...’

‘You’re sidetracking,’ Fletcher snapped. ‘Get to the Point.,

‘Well, the point is,’ resumed Ally, running her tongue nervously over parched lips. ‘I’m his nanny.’

‘What?’

Startled, Ally watched as the colour in Fletcher’s face deepened and then leached away while, with the worst sense of timing, a kookaburra broke into raucous laughter in a gum tree overhanging the track.

‘Hell, Ally! You can’t be!’

‘I’ve had some training as a nanny,’ she offered tentatively, then began to chew the inside of her cheek while her fingers nervously played with the horse’s mane.

‘Damn it to hell! Of all the crazy...!’ He studied her through narrowed eyes. ‘How much?’

‘How much what?’ she repeated lamely.

‘How much training have you done to be a nanny for heaven’s sake?’

‘That’s how I put myself through Art College—working as a nanny for...’

Interrupting her with a fierce curse, Fletcher tossed the reins back over Juno’s neck before striding across the track away from her, shaking his head, clearly unimpressed, quite obviously more angry than ever.

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