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Now that Rory was gone their father took it out on him.
He returned to the homestead at dusk, cursing the fact, as he did every day, his father was such a severe man who these days possessed not even a chink of lightness of soul. Bernard Compton had become damned impossible. When Jay entered the kitchen through the back door prior to taking a shower in the adjacent mudroom, he found his father slouched over the huge pine table, a whiskey bottle near his hand. Jay never remembered his father drinking so much but these past weeks he’d been getting into it as if alcohol took his mind off his troubles and what was already going wrong on the station. It was his grandfather and the Compton men before him to whom they owed the success of Turrawin. Then Rory. The necessary skills and attributes had skipped a generation. Oddly enough, his father, like him, was excellent with machinery but he took little pride in Jay’s inherited ability. In fact he went out of his way to deride it.
‘That’s all you’re bloody good for, son. Tinkering about!’
His tinkering had saved the station a lot of money.
Bernard Compton looked up as Jay entered the room. There was no welcoming smile on his heavy handsome face but a scowl. His once brilliant dark eyes were badly bloodshot. ‘There’s a couple of postcards from your brother,’ he said, taking a gulp of his drink.
‘You’ve read them?’ Jay moved towards the table, feeling a rush of pleasure and relief at hearing from Rory again.
‘Why not? They’re bloody postcards aren’t they?’
‘They’re addressed to me,’ Jay pointed out quietly, picking them up. ‘You shouldn’t have sent Rory away, Dad. We can’t do without him.’
‘I’mnot asking him to come back, if that’s what you think.’ Bernard Compton’s face was set grimly. ‘I don’t get down on my knees to anyone least of all my own son. No respect, Rory. No respect at all. Looking at me with his mother’s eyes.’
‘Mum’s beautiful eyes,’ Jay said, his glance devouring what was written on the two postcards, each from different Outback towns. ‘He’s at a place called Jimboorie. Or he was.’
‘I can read,’ Bernard said roughly, staring up at his son. Jay was a handsome big fellow, strong and clever, but for God knows what reason glaringly inadequate when it came to running the station. ‘So what do you want me to do about it?’
‘Beg Rory to come home, Dad,’ Jay answered promptly. ‘The men look to Rory, not me.’ Not to you, either, hung heavily in the air.
‘He made his bed now he’s got to lie in it,’ Bernard Compton said. ‘What we need is an overseer given you’re so hopeless.’
‘You’re not much better,’ Jay retorted, almost beyond caring what his father thought. ‘Why didn’t I have the guts to do what I always wanted to do?’
‘Become a doctor?’ Bernard snorted, and threw back the whiskey.
‘I’d have been a good doctor,’ Jay said in his quiet way. ‘It’s in my genes. I should have pushed for it.’
His father hooted. ‘You’ve never pushed for anything in your life.’
Not with a father I hated and feared. ‘Maybe there’s still time to make plans,’ Jay said. ‘Rory told me there was.’
‘That’s because he wants Turrawin.’ His father told him with a savage laugh. ‘There’s no end to your gullibility, son. Rory wants Turrawin,’ Bernard repeated.
‘Well, I don’t want it, Dad,’ Jay replied, his unhappiness growing more unbearable every day.
‘Why, you gutless wonder! I’m ashamed of you, Jay,’ Bernard Compton thundered, striking the table with his large fist.
‘Do you think I don’t know that?’ Jay asked in a weary voice. ‘You’ve bludgeoned me over the head with it for years, Dad. But my inadequacies are modest compared to yours. All you’re good for is letting loose with the venom.’
‘Why you—!’ Bernard Compton, his face flushed a dark red, started to rise, but Jay, a powerful young man, shoved him back down on his chair. ‘When I was a kid I used to find you very frightening. Mum did, too. But no more. I pity you from the bottom of my heart. You’re a hollow man. Rory should have Turrawin. I’m the one who has to give up on this life I was never meant to lead.’
‘What are you saying?’ Bernard Compton’s bloodshot eyes were filled with shock and disbelief.
‘You heard me. Rory should have Turrawin otherwise this historic station will go steadily downhill. Only Rory can save it.’
‘Over my dead body,’ Bernard Compton exploded, glaring at his son.
‘Why do you hate him so much?’ Jay marvelled. ‘He’s your son, isn’t he? Is there some bloody thing we don’t know? Is that why Mum left? What’s the goddamn mystery?’
Bernard Compton gave an awful grunt, clutching the whiskey bottle and pouring himself another double shot. ‘Of course Rory is my son, you idiot. And I don’t hate him. I bloody well admire him like I admired my old man. But there has to be a lot of space between us. I don’t want him on my territory.’
‘You’re afraid of him aren’t you? He’s everything you wanted to be. Grandad loved him so much. He loved me, but I always knew Rory was the favourite.’
‘That old bastard!’ Bernard swore blearily. ‘He certainly didn’t love me. He always made me feel a fool.’
‘Then I’m sorry, but it was never his intention. Grandad was a really good man. I’ll stay with you, Dad, until we get a competent overseer in place. I thought we could bring Ted Warren in from Mariji. He’s more competent than I am to handle things. Then I’m going to get a new life. Up until now I’ve always had the weird feeling I’m on hold with nothing to hope for. That has to change. But first, I’m going to find my brother.’
Allegra stood on the front verandah watching life giving rain pour down over the burdened eaves in silver curtains so heavy it was impossible to see out into the home gardens. It was well over a week now since Rory Compton had made the two-hour journey from Jimboorie township to Narooma with his offer; an offer Valerie and Chloe had near jumped at. She on the other hand had made it abundantly clear it wasn’t enough, although she pretty well believed him when he said it was the best he could do. He didn’t seem the man to try to beat them down. Clay Cunningham didn’t think so, either. She’d already had a conversation with Clay, a man she trusted, who had revealed a little more about Rory Compton’s situation. It was true his brother, Jay was to inherit historic Turrawin. True by all accounts—word in the far flung Outback flew around with astonishing speed—Bernard Compton had disinherited his younger son.
Rory Compton was no longer part of a wealthy family of pioneering cattle barons. Times for Rory had changed. He was out on his own albeit with the wherewithal to purchase a smallish run. Nothing that could possibly match what he had come from, but a property a man with his talents could build on and make prosper. Allegra was sure of it.
Rory Compton was a man of substance at twenty-eight. No great age. Her father would have judged him square in the mould of builder-expander. A man who exuded all the drive, ambition, know-how and ideas to turn middle of the road Naroom into a financial success. After that, she supposed, he would move on to bigger and better things. His offer had been basically, their reserve $3.5 million. She was sticking out for $4 million knowing despite depreciation and a big drop in stock numbers, Naroom was worth that. Or were her emotions too heavily involved? Naroom was her home.
The magic of the place! Yet she seemed to be the only one now her dad was gone to feel it. Anyway as far as borrowing went Rory Compton still had his name. A name to be reckoned with. His bank had approved his loan in what seemed to her record time. Her gut feeling was the bank could go $500,000 more.
No surprises a huge family fight had developed. Her on one side: Valerie and Chloe on the other. If she had ever thought and hoped there was some love between her and her half-sister she soon found out when the chips were down, there wasn’t. Even thinking about the things Valerie and Chloe had said to her brought the sting of tears to her eyes. At one point she even thought Valerie would come at her in a rush of physical rage. Valerie was not to be thwarted. She wanted out like a wild horse wanted its freedom. And don’t for the love of God get in the way. Whatever Valerie wanted, so did Chloe. The gang of two.
It wasn’t as though she had been adamant with a no. Their combined clout equalled hers. All she wanted was a better offer. Or the opportunity at least to see if he could come up with a better offer? Surely that was reasonable? She was doing this for her dad, not for herself. His memory. Yet Valerie and Chloe had branded her with every unjust name they could think of.
‘I’ll tell you straight! I despise you for being so selfish!’ Valerie had raged. ‘Why did you come back here? We didn’t want you.’
It doesn’t take a lot of words to tear a heart out. What point in saying she had a perfect right to come back. Naroom was as much her home as theirs. More. But they obviously thought her marriage, however short, and their long tenancy downgraded her rights.
The following morning they left in a great flurry, catching a charter flight to Brisbane.
‘I’m going to make it my business to consult with a top lawyer regarding my rights,’ Valerie announced a half an hour before their departure. ‘I was Llew’s wife! Surely to God I had the stronger claim? But no, I finished up with a mere quarter of everything.’
‘A quarter of the estate amounts to quite a lot, Val.’ Allegra tried to get a word in edgeways.
But Valerie wasn’t prepared to listen. ‘I’m going to see about contesting the will. It’s an outrage your share was double mine. Anyone would side with me on that one. The wife should be the main beneficiary. I know you worked on your father. You kept at him and at him until he saw things your way.’
A wave of futility crested then crashed on Allegra. For her and Valerie to reconcile was unimaginable. ‘That is patently untrue, Valerie. For your information Dad and I never ever discussed his will.’
‘And who would believe you?’ Valerie countered, her eyes flashing anger and disbelief. ‘Anyway I can’t stand around arguing with you. We have a plane to catch.’
‘Good but before you go I want you to know I have no intention of holding up a sale if that’s what you want. All I’m seeking is the best possible price we can get.’
‘Just see you stick to that!’ Valerie responded, her voice charged with venom.
There was, alas, little hope what was left of family could survive. Her father gone Allegra felt she was well and truly on her own.
By late morning the rain had ceased and the sun came out in all its glory, dispersing the clouds. Allegra took the opportunity of saddling up Cezar, her father’s big handsome bay, and riding out to check on the herd. After one torrential downpour the creek that had been low for so long had risen a good metre, the surging brown water frothed with white. It coursed between its green banks, spewing up spray wherever it encountered boulders and rocks. She had already given the order to move the stock in case there were further downpours, which was a strong possibility. It was the monsoon season in the tropical North. Anything was possible; deep troughs, cyclones. The cattle were now grazing all over the flats on either side of the creek. They all knew what flash floods were like. They had all seen dead bloated cattle with terror carved into their faces. It was not a sight one forgot.
When she was satisfied everything was moving according to plan she rode back to the homestead, rejoicing in a world the rain had washed clean. She loved the air after the rain. She loved riding beneath the trees getting showered with water from the dripping branches. Everything about her, body and spirit, rejoiced in the great outdoors. For sure she had made a name for herself working as a fashion editor. She knew she was very good at her job. She had natural flair but she had always known where her heart was. It was the land that made her happy.
She was approaching the house when she saw with a flare of excitement as big as a bonfire: Rory Compton’s Land Cruiser parked in the driveway. A moment later she saw his tall rangy figure walk down the front steps, making for his vehicle. Finding no one at home he was obviously leaving. That couldn’t be allowed to happen. This man was too much on her mind.
Allegra urged the bay into a gallop.
He saw her coming. The bay she was riding was too big and most likely too strong for most women but she was handling it beautifully. She was wearing a cream slouch hat crammed down on her head, but her dark red hair was streaming beneath it like a pennant in the wind. He remembered what a beautiful natural rider his mother had been. How he had loved to watch her. He was painfully aware his love for the woman who had borne him wasn’t buried so deep it couldn’t resurface at some time. A tribute to motherhood he supposed.
He found he loved watching this woman, too. Allegra Hamilton was luring him like a moth drawn compulsively to a lamp. From out of nowhere she was all over his life. He was even starting to miss her when he didn’t see her. He was even starting to imagine her there beside him. Hell, he wanted more of her. More of her company. The good Lord had either answered his prayers or sent him one heck of a problem.
She reined in a foot or two away from him, one hand tipping her hat the brim turned up on both sides, further back on her head. Her posture was proud and elegant. God, what’s the matter with me? he thought
The answer came right away. You’ve fallen fathoms deep in love.
‘What brings you here, Rory Compton?’ Her eyes sparkled all over him, his face and his body, setting up a chain of spine tingles.
He damn nearly said, you. But no way could her feelings be as well developed as his. He made do with business. ‘I’ve come with my final offer,’ he explained.
‘Ah, so you’ve got one?’ She dismounted in one swift, graceful movement, swinging her long slender leg up and over the horse’s back.
‘That’s some animal,’ he said, running his eyes over the handsome beast.
‘Cezar.’ She patted the bay’s neck affectionately. ‘Cezar was my father’s horse.’
‘I should have known. He’s too big and too powerful to be a woman’s horse.’
‘Are you saying I can’t handle him?’ She had to narrow her eyes against the glare.
He spread his hands. ‘Never, my lady. It was a pleasure to watch you. You’re a fine horsewoman. My mother was, too.’ He hadn’t intended to mention his mother at all. It just happened.
Her beautiful face softened into tenderness. ‘You miss her terribly, don’t you?’
‘Here, let me do that,’ he said, ignoring her question because he was too moved by it, coming forward so he could remove the saddle from her heated horse.
‘It’s okay,’ she said, turning her head. ‘Here comes Wally. He’ll take care of it.’
‘Fine.’ Rory watched as a wiry-looking lad of around sixteen—he vaguely recognised him—jogged towards them, coming from the direction of the stables. He had a big cheerful grin all over his face. ‘Thought I saw you comin’ back, Miss Allegra.’
‘We both wanted that ride, Wally,’ she said and handed him the reins. ‘Look after him for me, would you? You remember Mr Compton?’
‘Sure do!’ The boy, part aboriginal, studied Rory with obvious liking. ‘Gunna buy the place, boss?’
‘Allow us to work that out, Wally, if you don’t mind.’ Allegra broke in, her tone mild.
‘Sure, Miss Allegra.’ Wally’s grin stayed in place. He hadn’t taken the slightest offence. He took the reins to lead Cezar away. ‘Nice to see yah, Mr Compton.’
‘So long, Wally.’ Rory nodded casually. ‘Be good now.’
‘Come into the house,’ Allegra said as she turned to Rory, struck by the dramatic foil his light eyes, tanned skin and black hair presented. He was so handsome it seemed to her he radiated a spell. She just hoped she was keeping her powerful response underwraps. But surely no red-blooded woman could fail to be aroused by such stunning masculinity, or not enjoy his male beauty. Even after the traumas of her broken marriage she couldn’t help but wonder what he would be like in bed.
Face it. She’d been spending too much time wondering. At a time when she should be standing back, taking stock of her life, a new relationship had been thrown open. What to do with it? Briskly she made towards the front steps.
‘So where are Valerie and Chloe?’ Rory asked, as they moved into the empty house. He would have a huge job in front of him keeping up the businesslike aura.
‘They won’t be back here until next week,’ Allegra said, throwing her cream hat unerringly onto a peg.
He saluted her aim with a clap. ‘Are they taking a short holiday?’ he asked. He wouldn’t cry buckets if they weren’t coming back.
‘You could say that.’ She turned to face him, filled with something very like joy. Where was all this leading? She only knew it was going too fast.
‘Would it be considered impolite to ask why?’ Rory stared back at her, drinking her in. She was wearing a mulberry coloured polo shirt over cream jodhpurs that showed off the slender length of her legs and her very neat butt. She didn’t appear to be wearing any makeup at all. Just a touch of lipstick probably to protect her mouth, but her beauty was undiminished.
‘You’re loads better off not knowing!’ Her answer was wry.
‘Tell me. One would have to be massively insensitive not to pick up on the fact you women don’t have a warm relationship.’
‘Okay, we had an argument,’ she confessed.
‘I would never have guessed! It involved my offer and your decision not to accept it, of course.’
‘Clairvoyant as well.’ She turned to walk into the living room and he followed.
God, she could lead me anywhere, Rory thought, not altogether proud of the way he had fallen so easily for her. Did he actually need a mad passion? Surely he had decided he didn’t. Yet he was thrilled and apprehensive at the same time. Their being alone together could only draw them closer. He already knew he was going to go along with it, even though he recognised she had the capacity to hurt him badly. This was a woman who would want to go back to her glamour job in the city. That was something to be feared.
You fool, Rory! This is getting altogether too serious.
He was getting right into the habit of communing with himself. Now he glanced around the comfortable living room. ‘Family arguments are no fun.’ Boy, didn’t he have some experience!
‘You can say that again,’ she sighed. ‘My family doesn’t want me here anymore. That’s it in a nutshell.’
‘Okay let’s sit down,’ he said gently, seeing how much that hurt her.
‘We’re going to haggle?’ She settled into an armchair indicating he take the one opposite.
‘If you like. A cup of coffee would make me feel better.’
She sprang up as if remiss at not offering him one. ‘Me, too!’ She was becoming addicted to this man and in such a short while. Yet right from the beginning an intimacy had existed she had never shared with anyone else. Explain that? ‘Come through to the kitchen,’ she invited. ‘We can haggle in there.’
It was a big kitchen but his presence filled it up. Allegra busied herself hunting out the coffee grinder then taking the beans from the refrigerator.
‘I’ll do that,’ he offered, moving closer.
‘Fine.’ Even her pulses were doing an Irish reel. ‘Count to twenty, that should do it.’ She opened a cupboard and took out coffee cups and saucers, trying to tone herself down.
‘The rain was wonderful,’ he said when he finished grinding the beans and the kitchen was quiet again. ‘I found myself standing out in it.’
‘I can understand that.’ She smiled. ‘I did, too. I was purposely riding under the trees so I could get a shower from the wet branches. Do you think we’ll get more? Rain is so very unpredictable.’
‘Certain to,’ he said.
‘How do you know? Don’t tell me it’s your aching bones?’
