A Wedding At Windaroo

Gabe laughed. ‘Wait till you go to boarding school next term. Your teachers will tell you that girls have the same chance to be anything they want to these days.’

‘But I want to be a cattleman. Bet you never heard anyone talk about a cattlewoman, have you?’

He chuckled playfully and pulled her akubra down over her eyes. When she knocked the broad-brimmed hat back into place she was surprised to see the laughter in his eyes die. Suddenly he was looking sad and serious.

‘What’s the matter?’

He shook his head. ‘Nothing you need worry about, mouse.’

‘Come on, Gabe. I told you my horrible secret and I haven’t even told Miriam, my best girlfriend. If you tell me, I won’t tell anyone else.’

He smiled at her—as if he was seeing right inside her and really liked what he found. ‘Well,’ he said slowly, ‘guys can have their own problems, you know.’

‘Like having to shave?’

He grinned. ‘That’s one of them. But it gets worse.’

‘Going bald?’

‘I’m not talking about that kind of stuff. I mean it’s not always that easy for us blokes to do just whatever we want. My dad expects me to stay on Edenvale for ever.’

‘Of course.’ She frowned at him. ‘What’s wrong with that?’

He grimaced. ‘This will probably shock you, but I don’t want to be a cattleman.’

‘You’re kidding.’ She was shocked. Shocked to the soles of her riding boots. Her belly, which was already feeling sore, bunched into a nervous knot. How could anyone reject the wonderful life of a cattleman? If Gabe didn’t want to run cattle, what on earth could he want? And where did he want to go? The possibility that he might not stay right next door on Edenvale for ever scared her.

‘What do you want to do?’

‘That!’ he said, pointing to a giant wedgetail eagle circling high above them. Piper watched it with him and admired the strength of its dark V-shaped wings as it climbed higher and higher into the fading blue of the afternoon sky. Eventually, the slow, steady wings stopped moving altogether as the bird worked the thermals, gliding free. Then it was still in the air, hovering in one place.

Gabe’s face was alight with excitement. ‘Isn’t that fantastic? I’d give anything to learn to fly like that, to soar or hover with that much freedom. That much power and control. I’m sick of being tied to the ground with a mob of dusty, dumb cattle.’

It was a side to Gabe that she’d never seen before, never guessed. ‘Where could you learn to fly?’

‘An army recruitment fellow was in Mullinjim last week.’ His glowing face was still fixed on the eagle, watching it grow smaller and smaller as it climbed away again. ‘They’ll sign me up and train me to fly helicopters—Black Hawks.’

He stared after the bird with such an intense longing that even at her tender age Piper could see the finality of his choice. She knew instinctively that although it was the kind of dream that would take him away, probably for ever, it was the kind of dream Gabe had to follow.

The knot of fear in the pit of her stomach tightened. She wished she was older and less afraid, and hoped he couldn’t see that she was falling apart at the thought of his going away.

‘So what’s the problem?’ she asked in a shaky, not-quite-brave voice. ‘Won’t your family let you leave?’

His face twisted into a grimace of pain. ‘They’re not at all happy about the idea, but I’m going, Piper. I’m quite settled in my mind about that.’

She did her very best to smile.

CHAPTER ONE

Eleven years later…

IT SHOULD have been a perfect night.

Piper loved to be out in the bush after dark, when the hard sun retreated, the clean, sharp scent of eucalyptus lingered on the cooling air and the slender gum trees stretched silver-white limbs up to the moon.

And tonight Gabe was back.

So everything would have been perfect if she hadn’t been stressed to the eyeballs. But tension had been building inside her all evening and now the strain was unbearable.

She’d been practising in her head what she needed to ask Gabe, and no matter which words she chose they all sounded pathetic. But she had to get them out, had to speak now before she chickened out again.

Closing her eyes, she took a deep breath, then released it in a rush. ‘Gabe, I need your help. I need to find a husband.’

Oh, blast! Her request sounded even more ridiculous out loud than it had when she’d been practising. But it was too late to take the words back. All she could do now was wait for his response.

Wait…

And wait some more…while she crouched beside him in the dark and watched the surrounding paddocks for the first signs of cattle thieves.

If only she could see his face! But the moonlight couldn’t reach their hiding place behind a huge granite boulder.

‘Gabe?’ she whispered.

Maybe he thought her question was just too silly to warrant an answer. She should drop the whole crazy subject now. After all, he had only come home a few days ago and already she’d asked him to help her catch cattle duffers. She could hardly blame the man if he balked at solving her personal dilemmas as well.

His riding boots crunched small stones as he shifted his weight slightly, and then his voice came rumbling through the dark. ‘Since when have you had an urge to find a husband?’

She winced when she heard the mocking edge to his tone. If only she could check out his hard, handsome face. Was he laughing at her?

‘Just—recently.’ As recently as last night—after her grandfather had told her his shocking news.

Again Gabe didn’t answer. Instead he stood up and stretched cramped limbs. He walked a few paces away, moving into the bright light cast by the full moon, and she saw his grimace as he flexed his right knee.

Anyone who didn’t know about his accident would see a ruggedly athletic man—tall, lean-hipped and strong shouldered, with short, military-style black hair and a hard jaw shadowed by overnight stubble.

The stiffness in his right leg was the only sign that his tough and rugged exterior had taken a battering. It was easy to forget that he was recovering from a car crash that had forced him out of the army and almost taken his life.

Snagging a stalk of pale Mitchell grass, he rolled it between his fingers, stepped closer again and tickled her nose with it. ‘What’s this about looking for a husband? You’re not old enough to get married.’

‘Rubbish. I’m twenty-three.’

He looked startled. ‘Are you really?’

‘Sure am.’

Seconds ticked by while he frowned at a nearby brigalow bush, as if he needed to digest this news. She wondered why he seemed so surprised. He’d been six years old when she was born. And he was quite good at arithmetic.

‘Why the rush?’ he asked at last.