Claiming the Cattleman's Heart

She dismissed his protest with another stunning smile, breezed past him and up the steps. From the veranda, she called, ‘I told you. This is my way of saying thank you for rescuing me today.’

‘But I don’t need thanks. I don’t want to be thanked.’ With one leap, he was up the stairs and hurrying after her as she sailed into his kitchen and dumped grocery bags on the kitchen table.

‘Don’t look so scared, Daniel.’

Ignoring his protests, she carried a punnet of strawberries and a tub of rum-and-raisin ice-cream to his fridge. In two long strides he was across the kitchen, blocking her access.

‘Just hold it right there,’ he growled.

A soft gasp escaped her, and for the first time she faltered. She looked away, pressing her lips together. Then she took a quick breath, and when she looked at him again her expression was gentle and serious.

Daniel forgot to breathe. She was standing so close in front of him he could see the fine, clear perfection of her skin, the healthy and sensuous deep pink of her lips. The rosy scent of her perfume teased him.

‘Don’t panic, Daniel,’ she said gently. ‘I’m not here to stay. I don’t want to invade your privacy.’

‘Then you should go now.’

‘Sure.’ She sighed softly. ‘Sergeant Drayton warned me you’d be difficult.’

‘Heath?’ He frowned at her. ‘Heath Drayton? You’ve been talking to him?’

She nodded. ‘He was the one who gave me a lift back to my car.’

His chest squeezed tighter. If Lily had been talking to Heath, there was a chance she’d been told everything—the whole sorry business. He felt himself gulping for air. This made less sense than ever. If Lily knew all about him, why was she here?

And then light dawned.

She was sorry for him.

She was overflowing with do-good urges, and she’d rushed back to Ironbark to bring him provisions in the same way she’d rushed off to Sri Lanka to help villages there. Daniel’s shoulders sagged and he let his weight fall back against the refrigerator door. ‘You want to turn me into a charity.’

She looked mortified, and turned bright red. ‘No.’

‘Admit it, Lily. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it? It can’t be anything else.’ The last thing he needed was charity. From her. From anyone.

‘No,’ she said. ‘It’s just my way of saying thanks. I left you in a bit of a huff at Gidgee Springs.’

She sighed again, more loudly this time. ‘Look, my hand is turning blue from holding this ice-cream. Can I get it into your freezer?’

His smileless gaze flicked to her hand. Her fingers were indeed mottled and purple. Without comment, he stepped to one side and Lily hastily opened the door to the freezer section, dumped the ice-cream and then deposited the strawberries in the refrigerator. As she slammed the door shut, she rubbed her cold hands on her jeans and her shimmering eyes confronted him again.

Her smile was tight, less certain. ‘You can relax, Daniel. I’ll get out of your hair now.’

Turning away from him, she gathered her dignity in the same way she had this afternoon when he’d dumped her on the side of the road, and she walked back across his kitchen with her head high.

In the doorway, she paused and looked back at him. ‘There was just one thing I wanted to ask you.’

He swallowed, trying to loosen the lump in his throat. ‘What’s that?’

‘There’s a rest area about two kilometres back. Just off the main road. Is it safe to camp there?’

He’d been braced for questions about his time in prison, and was caught out by the unexpectedness of her query. ‘Why would you want to camp there?’ He frowned. ‘It’s only a picnic table and a rubbish bin. There’s a pub in Gidgee Springs, you know.’

‘The pub’s completely booked out.’ She pulled a face. ‘I guess I should have checked before I came, but I couldn’t imagine an Outback pub being full to capacity. I mean, Gidgee Springs isn’t exactly a tourist attraction. But, just my luck, there’s a big rodeo in town this weekend.’

‘Yeah, of course. I’d forgotten. It’s always on this time of year. People come from everywhere.’

‘So I thought I’d try the rest area. I can sleep in my car. I’ll be quite comfortable. It should be OK, shouldn’t it?’

Daniel scratched nervously at the back his neck. A pretty young thing like her, alone in the scrub with no proper camping gear. It didn’t seem right.

‘It won’t be the first time I’ve roughed it,’ she said. ‘When I first went to Sri Lanka our accommodation was very primitive.’

He shook his head. ‘You shouldn’t camp out in the bush on your own.’

‘I wouldn’t be completely on my own.’ Daniel frowned, and she explained, ‘I’ve got a dog.’

‘A dog?’ He stared at her blankly. ‘Don’t tell me you left a dog in your car all the time it was stuck out on the road?’

She rolled her eyes at him. ‘Of course not. Heavens, Daniel, you’re determined to have a poor opinion of me, aren’t you?’

He shrugged. ‘What else am I to think? You didn’t have time to acquire a dog while you were in Gidgee Springs.’

Lily grinned at him. ‘Of course I did. She’s in the car now. Why don’t you come and meet her?’

Without waiting for Daniel’s response, she turned and headed back along the veranda and down the front steps to her car.

Scratching his head, Daniel cast a helpless glance at the grocery bags sitting on his kitchen table and then, reluctant but curious, followed her outside. At the bottom of the steps, he paused.

Lily had opened the rear door of her car and was bending inside, making coaxing noises. And then a skinny dog emerged. A kelpie cross, by the look of it.

‘She’s a stray,’ Lily explained. ‘She’s been hanging about the pub for the last week, and the receptionist was in the process of calling the shire council to impound the poor darling. I acted on the spur of the moment and said I’d take her.’

The dog was looking up at Daniel with scared, almost pleading brown eyes. By contrast Lily, with her thumbs hooked through the belt-loops of her jeans, watched him from beneath lowered lashes.

‘I have to admit, I thought she might suit you,’ she admitted rather shyly.

‘Me?’

He looked at the dog again, paying closer attention. Her thin sides were concave, and he could see that she was trembling. Her nose quivered nervously, and as she looked at him she made a soft, plaintive, pitiful sound, somewhere between a whine and a yap. Daniel felt his resistance crumble.

How had Lily guessed his fatal weakness?

How could she know that he’d be a total push-over, unable to resist this cowed and anxious, skinny mutt of a dog with huge, pathetic eyes?

‘You were so good with the cow and her calf this afternoon,’ she said, with a defensive shrug of one shoulder. ‘And you don’t have a dog. You’re a cattleman. You should have a dog, shouldn’t you?’ Speaking quickly, like a telemarketer, she hurried to add, ‘This one’s very sweet, even though she’s timid. But there’s absolutely no pressure, Daniel. I thought you might like her, but if you don’t want her I’ll keep her. As I said, she can be my guard dog while I’m camping, and—’

Daniel held up a hand to silence her. ‘You can’t camp out there.’