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Draining a heavy teapot, she managed half a cup of cool, brewed tea and found a dubiously thin slice of very boring sponge cake, minus its icing.
‘It’s a grim turnout when the most important girl in the school can’t even find a cup of tea,’ a male voice said close behind her.
Even before she turned around she knew the speaker was smiling; she could hear it in the warmth in his voice. Just the same, when she turned to look over her shoulder she wasn’t prepared for the full effect of that smile.
Oh, wow! Talk about gorgeous!
He had to be in his mid-twenties, which immediately set him apart from the schoolboys of her acquaintance. Tall, dark and, yes, yummy looking too—he had the bronzed, outdoorsy skin and athletic physique of a man of the land. And the most wonderful, iridescent, silver-grey eyes.
The moment she looked into them Sarah felt as if she’d zoomed straight into the stratosphere. Far out! If only she wasn’t wearing her school uniform! What a bummer to meet such a scrumptious guy when she was stuck in a crummy blazer, shapeless white blouse and tie, teamed with a too-long ugly grey pleated skirt.
Not that the clothes seemed to put him off.
‘We should be able to find someone to make you a fresh pot of tea,’ he said.
She dragged her eyes from him to cast a quick glance around the supper tables. ‘I can’t see any of the kitchen staff here.’
Without hesitation he picked up one of the huge metal teapots. His eyes sparkled with merriment and she fancied she caught the ghost of a wink. ‘Let’s go and hunt them down then. Which way is the kitchen?’
She gasped—not because there was anything particularly shocking about the stranger’s suggestion, but because she was so stunned that he was obviously using the lack of tea as an excuse to chat her up. But heavens, why not let him? Here she was, on the brink of leaving school, on the eve of womanhood, and she’d just looked into his eyes and seen a glimpse of a beckoning, enticing new world.
‘The kitchen’s this way,’ she said, pointing to a doorway in the opposite wall.
Holding the teapot under one arm, he placed a hand very lightly at her elbow. ‘Let’s go then.’
‘Right.’ Feeling just a little breathless, she hurried with him across the hall, making sure she avoided the gaze of anyone else in the room. It would be too bad to be called away now by a teacher or an inquisitive girlfriend.
Once they reached the relative safety of the corridor leading to the kitchen she felt more relaxed. ‘Do you have a sister at school here?’ she asked him.
‘Yes, Annie McKinnon. Sorry, I should have introduced myself.’ He switched the teapot to his other arm and offered her his hand. ‘My name’s Reid. Reid McKinnon.’
‘Hi, Reid.’ In an effort to suppress her mounting excitement her voice came out rather husky and low. ‘Annie’s a great kid. I’m Sarah Rossiter by the way.’
‘Yes, I know. You’re the famous and fabulous School Captain. My little sister idolises you.’
‘Annie’s a bright spark. I’ve been coaching her in debating.’
‘She’s in excellent hands then. I must congratulate you on the speech you gave tonight. It was very, very good.’
‘Thank you.’ She’d been told this many times this evening, but to her annoyance she felt her cheeks heat. No doubt they were bright pink.
‘Such inspiring words of wisdom from one so young.’
She rolled her eyes at him.
He grinned. ‘I mean it, Sarah. You were very impressive.’
When they reached the kitchen, Ellen Sparks, the cook, plonked her hands on her hips and scowled at them. ‘Do they expect me to make more tea?’
Reid beat Sarah to an answer. ‘If you could manage one more pot we’d be extremely grateful.’
He seemed to have the same effect on Ellen that he’d had on Sarah. Instant charm. The cook pouted at him for less than five seconds before her resistance gave way to a cheerful smile. ‘No worries, love,’ she said, taking the pot. ‘It’ll be ready in half a tick.’
The kitchen hands scrubbing pots at the sink smirked and giggled.
Just outside the kitchen there was a small walled garden where the cook grew a few herbs. There were gardenia bushes too and white jasmine climbing a rickety trellis and a slatted timber seat where the kitchen staff liked to rest their weary legs and sneak cigarettes when they thought the teachers weren’t looking.
‘Why don’t we park ourselves out here while we’re waiting?’ Reid suggested.
Sarah could hardly believe that within scant minutes of their meeting she was sitting out here with him—in the romantic dark, beneath a starry sky and surrounded by the heady fragrance of jasmine and gardenias.
In no time at all she was telling him about herself—that she was an only child and came from a cattle property called Wirralong on the banks of the Burdekin River not far out of Charters Towers—that she played guitar, planned to become a primary school teacher and would study at university in Townsville.
And once the tea was ready Reid suggested it made sense to drink it out in the garden rather than lugging the heavy pot all the way back into the hall. Sarah hesitated, momentarily struggling against her usual tendency to worry about what others might expect of her. Were her parents or teachers looking for her?
But another glimpse into Reid’s eyes and she threw caution to the wind. They poured their cups of tea and helped themselves to milk, sugar and biscuits from the big kitchen pantry, and took their feast back outside to sit for a little longer in the starlight.
Reid told her about his own boarding school days and the year he’d spent adventuring overseas in Scotland and Europe. And he told her about his family’s property, Southern Cross, over to the north in the Star Valley.
The conversation was exceedingly proper and safe and polite, but for Sarah it was incredibly thrilling. It was more than a little flattering to receive what appeared to be sincere and rapt attention from an older, super-attractive man.
She feared he might try to crack unfunny jokes that she would have to laugh at, or that he would spoil things by getting sleazy—trying something on—but he didn’t. Not once.
‘Sarah Rossiter, is that you?’
A shrill, all too familiar voice split the night air behind them.
Startled, Sarah spun around to see the bulky shape of the Deputy Headmistress silhouetted in the light of the kitchen doorway.
Oh, crumbs. She sprang guiltily to her feet. ‘Yes, Miss Gresham.’
‘Good heavens, girl. What on earth—?’ The Deputy gasped and huffed and made a fair imitation of frothing at the mouth. ‘What are you doing out here?’
Damn. Sarah knew she was about to blacken her exemplary school record. Now, at the eleventh hour.
But, before she could stammer an inadequate reply, Reid stepped forward.
‘Miss Gresham, this is my fault. I have to confess to luring Miss Rossiter away from the hall for a well-earned cup of tea.’
‘But—but—’ the Deputy spluttered.
‘And please allow me to congratulate you on your splendid Speech Night. I know you were entirely responsible for organising it. It ran without a hitch.’
Talk about smooth. Within moments Reid had enchanted Miss Gresham the way he’d enchanted Ellen, the cook.
And, starry-eyed, Sarah tumbled heart-first in love with him.
She saw him often over the next four years, while she was at university. They wrote to each other and they got together whenever they could—during her holidays, or whenever Reid found an excuse to get away from Southern Cross and to come down to Townsville.
Every time Sarah saw him she fell a little more heavily in love. And she suspected that Reid was in love with her too. There was plenty of evidence of attraction whenever he kissed her. They didn’t make love, but things got pretty steamy at times.
She knew why they hadn’t ‘gone the whole way’. Reid told her more than once that she was talented and had so much to offer the world that he didn’t want to tie her down or hold her back. It was rubbish of course, but it didn’t matter how many times she protested, he insisted that she should be free to fully enjoy university life—which included dating other guys.
Reluctantly she accepted that there was some wisdom in this and she went out with several nice enough fellows. It was all very pleasant, but none of the other men ever measured up to Reid.
Then, in her final year, when she came home for the July break, Reid telephoned to say that he was coming over to Wirralong the next day, to visit her.
In a fever of excitement, she dressed in a new pale blue linen shirt and hipster jeans and she stood waiting on the front steps of the homestead, watching for the first cloud of dust that marked the progress of his vehicle along the bush track.
It was a beautiful day—North Queensland at its winter best—a day of high, wide blue skies and air as clear and sparkling as champagne.
When Reid drew close Sarah tore across the lawn and waited at the front gate, then swung it open for him. Through the dusty windscreen she saw the white flash of his smile. Oh, gosh. She was so smitten her insides somersaulted with excitement.
He parked beneath a tamarind tree and her heart went crazy as he climbed out. They hadn’t seen each other since Easter and now they stood grinning like kids on their first trip to the circus.
Reid seemed taller than she remembered—more gorgeous than ever. He was wearing a dark blue T-shirt and blue jeans. His dark hair probably needed cutting, but she rather liked it curling a little at the ends. He looked so, so handsome. So sexy.
‘Hi,’ he said, and his smile lit up his eyes, his whole face.
‘Hi.’
‘I’m not too late, am I? I hope I haven’t held up lunch.’
She shook her head. ‘Mum and Dad have already eaten, but I’ve packed a picnic lunch for us to take up the river.’
‘A picnic?’ He looked surprised—but pleasantly so.
‘Are you hungry?’
‘Ravenous.’
‘I’m afraid it will be a little while before we get there.’
He grinned. ‘Cancel the ravenous remark. I can easily wait.’
‘Good.’ She drew a hasty breath. ‘Everything’s ready.’
She was rather proud of the way she handled her father’s old utility truck through the difficult terrain of Anvil Gully and Retreat Creek. If Reid was impressed by her driving he didn’t say so, but he seemed relaxed.
About half an hour later they emerged on top of a high bank on the edge of the Burdekin River.
She felt a little nervous again as they got out and Reid stood beside her. Would he wonder why she’d brought him so far?
Tall, broad-shouldered, strong limbed, Reid seemed part of the rugged wild beauty of the outback. He stood with his thumbs hooked loosely through his belt, looking out at the view of the wide full river and the tall limestone cliffs that guarded it.
From up here it was like looking out from a castle keep. ‘What do you think, Reid?’
‘It’s fantastic. I’ve never seen this stretch of the river before.’
Satisfied, she turned to get the picnic things from the back of the ute, but he reached out with one hand and caught her waist, pulling her in to him. Her heart thundered wildly as he kissed her. Then he released her and smiled.
‘I’ve missed you, Sarah.’
‘Yeah, me too.’
An exquisite shiver trembled through her as he lifted a hand to touch her face, and his eyes feasted on every detail of her features. His thumb brushed her brow, her cheek, her chin.
And then she heard a soft throaty growl and his arms were around her again, hauling her closer, kissing her hungrily now. Backing up against the side of the ute, he pulled her against him so that her feet left the ground and the hard evidence of his desire jutted into her. Electrified, she wound her arms around his neck, returning his kisses as she crushed her eager body against his. A tight coil of longing wound low inside her and her breasts grew tight as heat pooled between her thighs.
Would this be the long awaited day? The day Reid stopped thinking of her as a talented girl and saw that she was a passionate woman, desperately in love?
When he let her go her face was flushed and he smiled self-consciously. ‘Hmm, I must have been hungrier than I thought. Perhaps you’d better show me this lunch of yours.’
They were both sizzling with the heady bliss of being alone together for the first time in ages. Sarah could feel the chemistry arcing between them as they spread her tartan rug in the shade of leafy green quinine trees and Burdekin plums.
She felt excited and breathlessly on edge as she unpacked thick sandwiches filled with marinated roast beef and then a macadamia pie, mandarins and grapes. A bottle of wine and two glasses.
‘This is a feast,’ Reid declared. ‘You’ve gone to a lot of trouble.’
‘Yes.’ She smiled. ‘I’m all out to impress you.’ Then, to cover her embarrassment at being so obvious, she thrust the wine bottle and a corkscrew at him. ‘Here, make yourself useful.’
While they picnicked they talked about safe topics like the cattle muster that Reid, his brother Kane and their father had just finished on Southern Cross, about beef prices and the lasting effects of the wet season.
Alone in their remote haven of wilderness, they lay, resting back on their elbows and watching rafts of black ducks, teal and pelicans drift down the river. The water was so clear that even from this high bank they were able to see the darting shadows of black bream swimming.
‘You’re lucky to have a spot as beautiful as this on your property,’ Reid told her.
‘I imagine you must have some pretty views on Southern Cross, especially from the ranges looking back across the valley.’
‘They’re not bad. You should come out to our Cathedral Cave. The view from there is stunning.’
‘I’d like that.’
When they’d eaten as much as they could, Sarah began to pack the picnic things away, but before she finished she paused and said somewhat obliquely, ‘I like Mirrabrook.’
Surprised, he stared at her.
‘I’m thinking of applying for the teaching post there next year.’ She knew Reid had been expecting her to go off to teach in one of the big city schools to the south.
He quickly swallowed a last mouthful of pie. ‘Are you sure you want to hide yourself away in a little one teacher school in the outback?’
‘I’m an outback girl, why shouldn’t I want to give something back? Too many young people are leaving the bush for the city.’
‘Yes, but—you—you’d have to deal with all those different year levels and there’d be no other teacher to help you find your feet.’
Biting her lip, she looked down at the inch of wine in her glass. Was he trying to put her off? ‘It’ll be a challenge, but I think I could handle it. I’m going to be a good teacher.’
‘I’ll just bet you are.’
She downed the wine quickly, set the glass back in the picnic basket, then looked up and saw the dark colour in Reid’s face. The strong emotion in his eyes stole her breath.
‘What are your chances of getting that post if you requested it?’ he asked.
‘Nothing’s guaranteed, but my good grades should help. Even if they don’t, I can’t imagine many people will be breaking their necks to teach in Mirrabrook.’
‘I don’t suppose so.’
Bravely she added, ‘But I am.’
‘Breaking your neck to be in Mirrabrook?’
She nodded shyly.
‘Sarah, it would be wonderful to have you close by.’
Her heart leapt in a quicksilver of joy. ‘Well…a girl can hope.’
‘And so can a guy,’ he said softly.
The look in his eyes made her skin feel too tight for her body. ‘Would you—um—like something else to eat?’
‘I’d like another taste of that delicious mouth of yours.’
‘Come and get it,’ she said softly.
A cloud of heat rose through her, making her body flame with outrageous longing. Slowly, Reid leaned towards her, supporting his weight on his hands and knees. His movements were so measured the air seemed to tremble with tension.
In a sensuous daze, Sarah let herself loll backwards till she lay on the rug. She tipped her head back and saw his face register surprise then a slow smile as he lowered his mouth over hers in an upside-down kiss.
She had never imagined anything quite so sexy. Only their mouths touched as they adjusted lips, teeth and tongues to this totally new angle. They kissed in a series of sips and nibbles and sweeping strokes of their tongues. It was fun and yet, oh man, incredibly intimate. Their hunger mounted quickly.
Reid moved from her mouth to sample her chin. With his knees near her head he leaned over her, kissing her throat, then he trailed on, down into the V of her shirt opening.
Sarah’s fingers flew to undo her buttons. This was what she had to have. Reid’s loving. She was his. Body and soul. She was madly in love with him. No other man would ever mean what he meant to her and she had never given herself this way to anyone else. She wanted to be Reid’s. Now. Always.
An astonishing kind of dark wildness overcame her. She needed him. And she felt a sense of panic that perhaps what she wanted most mightn’t happen. He might stop too soon.
Perhaps Reid sensed her need, or perhaps, because he’d been waiting as long as she had, he was desperate too. They fought to shed clothes, helped each other to be rid of anything that prevented them from being together skin to skin. Burning skin to burning skin.
Their kisses were fast, hot, hard. Their caresses became greedy, their movements almost savage, their bodies possessed by an urgency that was skyrocketing out of control.
Then, without warning, Reid pulled away, and he looked upset.
‘What?’ she whispered, fighting panic. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘This is wrong. It’s too wild.’
She felt suddenly cold. ‘I—I don’t mind.’
‘No, Sarah.’ His face was flushed. Angry? He was dragging in deep breaths as if struggling for control. ‘If we keep on like this I’ll hurt you.’
‘But I don’t want you to stop. I—I want you to make love to me.’
Propped on one elbow beside her, he lifted her dark hair away from her eyes and traced a hand down the side of her face. His eyes were heavy-lidded with desire but he smiled just a little sadly.
He nuzzled her ear. ‘Sweetheart, there’s no way I want to stop, but let’s take this a little easier. We’ve got all afternoon.’ Gently, he pressed his lips to the curve of her throat. ‘It’ll be even better slow.’ He kissed the dip above her collarbone. ‘I want this to be special for you. Have you any idea how special you are, Sarah?’
She felt tears spill on to her cheeks. ‘They’re happy tears,’ she hastened to assure him. ‘It’s just that I’ve been wanting this for so long.’
‘Darling girl, so have I.’ He gave a rueful little laugh. ‘That’s another reason why I want to take it slowly, otherwise it’ll be all over before we get properly started.’ With the pad of his thumb he wiped the hot path of her tears.
And then he began to kiss her again, slowly, lovingly, while his hands traced her skin with a feather-light touch.
Later, she knew that he’d given her a beautiful gift. Every girl deserved to be made love to for the first time the way Reid made love on that sweet afternoon, with the background hum of bees in nearby wattle and mild winter sunshine spilling through overhead tree branches.
She cried whenever she thought about it.
She was crying now, all these years later, curled up in her chair in the study, clasping the old school programme to her heart.
Oh, Reid, what went wrong?
Tears streamed down her cheeks as she thought of what had followed—that wonderful first year after she’d come to teach in Mirrabrook, when she and Reid were blissfully in love and her world had been perfect.
Throw the programme away. You’ve got to move on. You’ve got to forget.
But she couldn’t do it. Not yet. She’d throw it away at the end of term when it was time to leave. It would be easier then to get rid of everything in one fell swoop.
Without bothering to dry her damp cheeks, she picked up the drawing pin, stuck it through the hole in the paper and pinned it back on the wall. And felt guilty for being so weak.
CHAPTER THREE
WHEN Annie McKinnon came home to Southern Cross to prepare for her wedding she brought her best friend, Melissa, who would be her chief bridesmaid.
For Reid it was like a breath of fresh air to have his sister home again. He’d been rattling about Southern Cross on his own for too long and he was looking forward to having Annie dashing about, preparing for her wedding.
And he knew he would enjoy having a house full of wedding guests. This homestead was built to take a crowd.
Nevertheless, after months of solitary bachelorhood, it took a little adjusting to get used to having two excited young women chattering non-stop.
‘I wonder who wrote this?’ Melissa asked one evening soon after they arrived.
Reid looked up from the Cattlemen’s Journal he was reading. ‘Wrote what?’
She held up the latest edition of the Mirrabrook Star that had come that day with the mail drop. ‘Someone who calls herself Fed Up has sent a Dear Auntie letter to your local paper.’
‘What’s it about?’ asked Annie, who was curled on the sofa with a bridal magazine.
‘Listen,’ said Melissa. ‘I’ll read it to you.’
Reid groaned. ‘Do you have to?’
‘Of course she does, Reid.’
He should have known he’d get no sympathy from Annie. After spending several months in Italy with her fiancé his sister had changed in many ways, but she was as interested in local gossip as she’d ever been. Trying to guess which of the locals had submitted letters to the agony aunt column had always been one of her favourite pastimes.
Now she rolled her eyes at him. ‘Don’t be a spoilsport.’
Melissa looked from sister to brother, waiting for a decision.
Reid relented. ‘Oh, go on then. Read the letter if you must.’
‘Okay, this is Fed Up’s problem.’ Melissa cleared her throat. “‘I’ve been in love with a man for many years, and although I know he once had strong feelings for me, he only offers me friendship now. He’s a wonderful man and has been a very good friend, a best friend really, but I can’t remain content with friendship alone.
“He never told me why he changed his mind. As far as I know he doesn’t have another woman, but do you agree that I’m foolish to hang around year after year hoping he might fall in love with me again?”’
Melissa grinned as she looked up at them. ‘Does she really need to ask? What a loser. Anyone you know fit that description?’
Silent seconds later, Melissa frowned. ‘Annie, what’s the matter?’
Reid didn’t hear Annie’s reply. He’d jumped to his feet so quickly his chair made a sharp scrape on the polished timber floorboards. But he did hear Annie’s worried question. ‘Reid, are you okay?’
Of course he wasn’t okay. His chest was squeezing so tightly he couldn’t breathe. ‘I—I just remembered I—I forgot something.’ Ignoring his little sister’s sweet look of concern, he turned abruptly and strode out of the room and down the passage to the back veranda. Outside, he slammed the back door and sagged back against it, his heart thundering.
Sarah must have written that letter. It couldn’t be anyone else. He dragged in a deep breath, trying to calm down. Maybe it wasn’t her. She wouldn’t want to expose her problem in a public forum, would she?
But it was pointless to speculate. Deep down he knew the writer was Sarah. The poor girl had been driven to consult an agony aunt and Annie had guessed. After his pathetic reaction Melissa would probably guess too. How many others in the district would guess?
Heaving away from the door, he lurched across the veranda to the railing and stood with his hands thrust in his pockets, staring out at the horse paddock. He should have found a way to set Sarah free long before this.