Claiming the Cattleman's Heart

Tall, ancient palm trees surrounded the homestead, making it look cool, despite the shimmering noonday heat. To the right of the house, tumbledown machinery sheds were shaded by an enormous spreading cassia tree covered in massive, romantic pink blossoms.

‘Is that your house?’

He grunted yes.

‘It’s lovely.’

She meant it. Daniel’s house might not be grand or manicured, but there was something very appealing about it. She loved the way its long red roof reached protectively over the deep, shady verandas, and the way the green mountains stood on guard behind it. The circle of palms and the lovely pink cassia tree added a touch of romance. Undeniable charm. It was a setting an artist might feel an urge to paint.

Again she thought of her father. Marcus Halliday had made his fame and fortune bringing scenes like this to life on canvas.

Her lips pulled into a wry smile. Was it because of Marcus or in spite of him that the sight of Daniel’s home tugged at her heartstrings? Whatever the reason, she felt charmed by the house and surprised, after her many misgivings, that she felt instantly at home.

‘You must have been very happy to come back from your travels to such a lovely place,’ she said.

Dark colour stained Daniel’s cheekbones, and he cleared his throat. ‘The house might look good from a distance, but it’s run-down like the rest of the property.’

‘So you’ve been away for quite some time?’

He didn’t reply. Obviously he had no intention of telling her anything about himself, but she wished he would. She’d feel so much more at ease if he was more outgoing. But, then again, why should he bother? It wasn’t as if they were starting a friendship. Soon he would be dropping her into Gidgee Springs and they would never see each other again.

‘The herd’s been away on agistment.’

She realised that Daniel’s focus was somewhere else entirely. He was studying the cattle in the paddock to his right.

‘I only got this lot back last week.’ Slowing the ute, he steered with one hand and leaned an elbow out of the window. He frowned as he fixed his attention on one particular cow with a noticeably swollen abdomen and udder. She was standing apart from the herd and looked rather uncomfortable, with her back arched and her tail raised. He brought the ute to a standstill, and Lily looked at the animal with sudden fascination.

‘I need to quickly check that heifer.’

‘Is she pregnant?’

‘She’s in labour. I’ve been keeping an eye on her this morning.’ His thoughtful frown deepened. ‘Usually there’s no need to intervene, but she’s young and this is her first calf.’

Without another word, he shoved the door open and strode to the fence, pushed the top strand of the barbed wire down with one hand, and swung his long legs easily over it.

Watching him, Lily let a sigh of relief drift from her lips. Surely a man who cared about a cow in labour couldn’t be dangerous? She decided she might be safe with him after all, and her mouth twitched into a smile. How nice it would be if Daniel was as trustworthy as he was hot-looking.

He returned quite quickly.

‘I think she’s OK,’ he said as he restarted the motor. ‘But it’s a bit hard to tell—the early stages are dragging on a bit.’

The truck rattled along the last part of the track leading up to the house. As Daniel turned off the motor, he said, ‘I’m afraid it’ll have to be bread and cheese for lunch.’

‘Oh, I don’t expect you to feed me.’

He frowned. ‘Why not? Have you already eaten?’

‘No.’

He gave an impatient shake of his head. ‘Then come on. I’m going to eat, and you may as well have something. It won’t be anything flash, of course.’

‘Thank you.’ Lily offered Daniel her warmest smile. But perhaps it was a mistake, because he seemed to freeze, and he stared back at her with such a fierce look that she felt her smile fade.

Three or four seconds passed, and then he said less gruffly, ‘I can’t treat you like a trespasser.’

Without warning, he smiled.

And, oh, what a difference it made.

Lily wanted to stare and stare.

CHAPTER TWO

THEY crossed the stretch of grass to the house and Lily saw that Daniel was right. The homestead certainly showed signs of neglect.

The long front veranda was unswept and littered with leaves. Dirty pieces of straw and old, yellowed newspapers were piled in corners. The white weatherboard walls were coated with grimy cobwebs and the windows were smeared with dust. Dried mud nests made by hornets clustered around the dark green windowsills, and long strings of grey cobwebs hung from the deep eaves.

Daniel sent Lily a grimly cautious glance. ‘I did warn you. This is no showplace up close.’

She waved away his apology. ‘I’ve seen it all before.’

He almost smiled again as he pushed the screen door open. ‘At least the kitchen’s habitable.’

And indeed it was.

It was large and clean, old-fashioned and homely, with a scrubbed pine table dominating the centre of the room and a big, open-shelved pine dresser on the opposite wall, filled with happy-looking blue and yellow china.

Actually, it was almost too neat. Where, Lily wondered, was the usual kitchen clutter? The feeding bowls for pets? The ubiquitous calendar on the wall with significant dates circled or scrawled over? And where were the old notes or receipts stuck to the fridge by funky magnets?

Of course, if Daniel had been away for some time, he wouldn’t have had the chance to acquire pets or to gather much clutter.

‘Do you live alone?’

‘Yes.’

Was it her imagination, or had she seen a flash of pain in his face?

He turned quickly to the sink, squirted some lemon detergent and washed his hands. Over his shoulder, he nodded to a door. ‘Bathroom’s through there if you’d like a wash.’

‘Thanks.’

The bathroom was plain but clean—with fluffy lime-green towels and a cheery sunflower stuck in a green wine bottle and set on the windowsill. From her experience of bachelors, the flower was an unexpected touch. Lily stared at it, wondering…

As she stepped back into the hallway she noticed that the doors to all other rooms, except one—Daniel’s bedroom, she guessed—were firmly shut. Thick trails of grey dust drifted from beneath the closed doors.

Obviously he’d fixed up just enough space for his immediate needs.

She couldn’t help feeling curious about him, about where he had been and whether he had a family—a girlfriend—even a wife somewhere. Why had this house and his large property been allowed to get so run down while he was away? Ironbark Station would be worth a stack of money if it was a fully functioning cattle station.