A Bride At Birralee

Her mother had never been sure. ‘It was one of the lecturers at uni.,’ she’d admitted once, just once, in a mismanaged attempt to be close to Stella. ‘One of the nutty professors—but I don’t know which.’

By contrast, there was only one man who could be the father of Stella’s baby’s. The fact that he was dead was too much to take in. Her insides shook with fear. Fear for herself, for the baby. Especially for the baby.

Scott was dead.

Where did that leave her? She couldn’t stand being alone any longer. All her childhood, she’d felt lonely—handed from one adult to another. Life had always been hard.

As an adult, she’d found it easiest to bury herself in study. When she’d discovered science, she’d found the laws of physics to be true and unchanging. They never let her down. Which was more than she could say for the people in her life.

And she’d really wanted the job in London! It would have allowed her to apply her scientific knowledge to a fascinating project. She’d been so excited. But the television network wouldn’t want a woman with a tiny baby. She’d really needed Scott’s help.

With a shaky sigh, she swung her legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. The dizziness seemed to have passed. So far so good.

She made her way back through the house to the kitchen, knowing the only thing that would hold her together now was habit. Old habits died hard and she’d learned as a child that it was best not to let others see how worried she was about all the mess in her life.

In the kitchen, Callum had everything ready. With rough movements, he placed a plate of food in front of her. ‘My version of outback hospitality.’

The meal smelt surprisingly good. Rich beef and vegetables. ‘Mmm. Good wholesome country fare.’

‘Just like mother used to make?’ he asked as he took his seat and pushed a knife and fork across the table towards her.

Stella rolled her eyes. ‘Not my mother.’

He frowned and waited, as if he expected her to clarify that remark. When she didn’t, he said stiffly, ‘I don’t want to pry, but I’m assuming this visit to see Scott was rather important?’

She felt her cheeks grow hot. ‘Not really. I—I had a few days spare and I just thought I’d look him up.’

His eyes told her he didn’t believe her and his mouth thinned into a very straight line. ‘So you’ll be leaving again in the morning?’

She hadn’t been ready for his question. Her head shot up making her look more haughty than she intended. ‘Sure. I’ll be out of your hair as soon as the sun comes up.’

Standing abruptly, he crossed back to the stove and filled the teapot with boiling water from the kettle. Stella bit her lip. Callum had been hospitable and she’d been rude. ‘Do you live here by yourself now?’ she asked, trying to make amends.

‘Yes.’ He thumped the lid onto the pot.

‘How do you manage such a big property on your own?’

‘I manage. My father tried to persuade me that the property’s too big for one man. He wanted to send someone out to help me.’

‘But you refused help?’

‘I don’t want anyone else here.’ The message was loud and very clear.

‘So how do you do it all?’

Callum turned from the stove and shrugged. ‘It’s not that difficult if you’re prepared to work hard. And there are plenty of blokes looking for mustering contracts. I can hire a team of fencers if I need to.’

‘You mentioned your sisters before. Do they live in these parts?’

One of his eyebrows rose quizzically. ‘Didn’t my little brother tell you about the family?’

Stella concentrated on her food. She didn’t want to admit to Callum that there’d been disappointments in her relationship with Scott. She forced a nonchalant smile. ‘It was tit for tat. I didn’t tell Scott about my family either. We liked it that way.’

It was partly the truth. After she’d let Scott make love to her, she’d expected they would become closer in every way, that he’d begin to share more of his life with her. But the minute he’d sensed she’d been getting serious, he’d become edgy and had backed away.

Callum brought the teapot and mugs to the table. ‘My mob don’t have any secrets. Both my sisters married North Queensland graziers. Catherine lives on a property near Julia Creek and Ellie is just outside Cloncurry. They both love the bush life. They’re happy as possums up a gum tree.’

‘Do they have children?’

‘Three kids apiece.’

‘Wow. That’s quite a family. It must be crowded when they all visit.’

‘It’s great.’ His eyes glowed and he actually smiled. And Stella wished he wouldn’t. Callum Roper was far too attractive when his eyes lit up that way.

She glanced at Oscar in his cage in the corner. He was her family, the only living thing in the world that belonged to her. Apart from the baby. But the baby was invisible. Most of the time, she had trouble thinking of it as real.

Callum leaned back in his chair. ‘And I suppose you know all about our old man?’

She frowned. ‘Your father? Should I know about him?’

She was surprised when he almost laughed. ‘He would like to think so, but then, all politicians have huge egos.’

‘Politicians?’ Stella almost dropped her fork. Roper…Roper…Was there a state politician named Roper? Suddenly she remembered. Not state government. Federal. ‘Your dad is Senator Ian Roper?’

‘’Fraid so.’

‘Oh, good grief!’ In her head, she added a few swear words and the invisible cluster of cells in her body suddenly posed a whole new parcel of problems.

Just how much bad luck did a girl have to deal with? She was carrying the illegitimate grandchild of one of the country’s most outspokenly conservative politicians!

Suddenly their efforts at conversation deteriorated. It seemed neither of them had much to say. Stella’s curiosity about Scott’s family vanished. She was back in panic mode again.

After they’d eaten, he asked, ‘Are you feeling OK now?’

‘Yes, much better, thank you. You’re a great cook. Dinner was delicious.’

‘Feel free to go straight to bed.’

‘I’ll help you clean up.’

His dark brows beetled in a deep frown. ‘No, you won’t.’

She had the distinct impression that he’d had enough of being sociable. He wanted her out of the room.

‘You’re sure I can’t help?’

He nodded without speaking.