Look-Alike Fiancee

‘So that’s why you hate us,’ Taryn breathed. She stopped and swung round, planting her hands on her hips. As she raised her eyes to his face, she swallowed. Hard. It was so dark in the forest by now that the granite-hard face under the mass of dark hair looked positively frightening, causing her heart to skip in sudden panic. If he hated her so much...

‘We were trying to help Charley Henderson,’ she offered in her father’s defence, aware that her voice sounded annoyingly husky. ‘The old man was badly in debt and in very poor health. He needed to be closer to town and hospital care. Now he’ll be able to live comfortably for the rest of his life, with the best of medical care at his fingertips.’

‘Oh, I’m sure your father was acting out of the goodness of his heart when he bought that prime piece of land over our heads,’ O’Malley bit back with scorn. ‘What good is it to you? It’s on the other side of the river, with no access from your property!’

‘There will be. We’re building a bridge across the river.’

‘Of course. Naturally. And I’m sure it will be a state-of-the-art concrete bridge too, not a rickety old thing like the one between your property and ours. Which is likely to wash away, incidentally, if we get any more heavy rain. The river normally fades to a trickle once the hot weather starts, but this year it’s flowing like crazy.’

She jerked a careless shoulder. She knew about the old timber bridge over the river, where it ran between the O’Malleys’ property and theirs, but with the ill feeling between the two families it would hardly matter if it did wash away. It was unlikely that either family would want to use it anyway.

‘Talking of heavy rain... ’ O’Malley glanced up at the sky ’...I’d say that’s just what we’re about to get.’

She glanced up too, and stifled a groan. The sky looked even more threatening now, and she could hear thunder rumbling in the distance. She quickened her steps.

‘You didn’t answer my question,’ O’Malley growled from behind. ‘What do you want with Charley Henderson’s land? Do you intend to run cattle there? Horses? Will you be pulling down Henderson’s old house?’

‘My father will be running cattle there. It’s extremely fertile land on Plane Tree Flats, as you must know...in that wide loop of the river. And no, we won’t be pulling down the old house—if it’s any of your business. The young couple we hired to help us run Fernlea will be living there. They’ve been coming from Leongatha every day, but we want them to live here on the property so they can keep a closer eye on the place when we’re not here. Like Smudge does...your father’s right-hand man, who lives on your property.’

She flicked a glance round to add sweetly, ‘I heard about Smudge from the young couple who work for us, not from your father. Your father hasn’t been particularly neighbourly.’ She paused, then asked idly, ‘Does he dislike us because we made a higher offer for Charley Henderson’s old farm? Or does he have a chip on his shoulder about the Conways too...no matter what we do?’

‘Put it this way,’ O’Malley said, his tone curt. ‘Neither of us cares overmuch for weekend hobby farmers. And now you tell me that the Conways, not content with owning Fernlea and Plane Tree Flats, have bought this pine forest as well!’

‘You’re saying that you O’Malleys wanted the pine forest as well as Plane Tree Flats?’

‘If we’d known the Conways were after it,’ came the grating response, ‘we might have tried to prevent the sale. You’re aware, I hope, that it’s an environmental gem in these parts? The residents around here have enjoyed the use of this forest and the old fruit orchard for years. What do you intend to do with it? Raze it to the ground?’

‘Of course not! We want to keep it just the way it is...that’s precisely why we bought it. Our property overlooks the forest. We had no wish to see it logged one day.’

‘Ah! So you bought it so that your pleasant view wouldn’t be spoiled. Of course...why didn’t I guess? Next you’ll be fencing it all off, with padlocked gates, so that nobody else can get near the forest or the orchard. Right?’

‘Wrong!’ She could feel her cheeks burning. Her father had suggested fencing the forest. To protect it, not to keep the neighbours out. ‘The farmers who live around here will be welcome to keep coming up here,’ she spelt out, ‘so long as they’re careful and don’t light fires or drop cigarettes around.’

‘The farmers around here don’t light fires. They protect against fires. They help to maintain the fire breaks around the forest and they watch out for lightning strikes that might start a fire...or for people who shouldn’t be here. That’s why I left my horse in the orchard and followed you. To see what you were up to. Only to find that you Conways have bought the forest and want to keep it to yourselves!’

‘You can still ride up here,’ she protested in a muffled voice. Each word he uttered flayed a sensitive part of her that she’d never realised existed. It had never particularly bothered her before what people thought of her. But for some odd reason—some stupid reason, in light of his attitude—she cared what this man thought.

Because he was a close neighbour? Was that the only reason she cared? All she knew was that, despite his abrasive manner and the giant chip on his shoulder and his obvious loathing of people with money, she didn’t want him to loathe her.

‘You told me I was trespassing,’ he reminded her. She swallowed. ‘I didn’t know who you were then. You—you could have been a firebug, for all I knew.’

They were in the overgrown orchard by now, weaving their way through the old fruit trees...apples, pears, apricots, quinces... even a giant mulberry tree. She glimpsed Ginger ahead, nose to the ground, munching fallen apples. A whinnying sound snapped her head round. Standing nearby, pawing at the ground, was another horse. A magnificent creature with a shiny black coat and a flowing black mane. He seemed high-strung and nervous...spooked, perhaps, by the thunder.

‘No sudden movements,’ O’Malley hissed at her ear. ‘Caesar’s easily startled. He hates storms. Let’s approach nice and easy... You grab your horse first.’

As she approached Ginger, a flash of lightning lit up the pines. Just as she caught the gelding’s reins in her fingers, an explosive bang shook the earth, causing Ginger to jerk back in fright. But this time she had a tight grip on the reins and was able to control him within seconds, patting him and murmuring soothing words.

‘Hey! Come back here!’

Her head whipped round as O’Malley roared at Caesar and lunged forward. But he was too late. Caesar was bolting off down the hill, black mane flying, deaf to O’Malley’s shouts.

She bit her lip, repressing a giggle. She couldn’t help it. Served him right! Now he’d have to walk back...and to reach his father’s dairy farm from here would be a hike-and-a-half on foot!

A moment later her grin was wiped from her lips as the heavens opened and the rain came bucketing down, soaking her to the skin in seconds. Her hair, streaming with water, clung to her shoulders. Watery drops trickled down her neck and inside the collar of her shirt.

O’Malley, looking just as bedraggled, his wild hair now flattened to his head, hiding his heavy eyebrows, cursed audibly. ‘My father should have got rid of that damned horse years ago. Caesar never listens, never does what you want.’

‘You should be soulmates, then,’ she tossed back, unable to resist having another shot at him for ignoring his father’s wishes. ‘I’m sure your father would agree.’

He glowered at her. ‘My father and I—’ he began, and stopped abruptly. She saw an amazing change come over his face. The irate frown dissolved. The chilly eyes took on a soulfully pleading expression, the gruffness in his voice giving way to a playfully wheedling note.

‘You’re not going to make me walk all the way home in this filthy rain, are you?’

CHAPTER TWO

SHE blinked at him. ‘You can’t mean—’ She glanced from O’Malley to the saddle on Ginger’s back. He had to be joking!

‘After all your talk about being neighbourly,’ he cajoled, as another blinding flash lit the sky, ‘I thought you might offer me a ride back to the old timber bridge...through Fernlea. It would take me hours to walk back the long way...the way I came up.’

Thunder rocketed across the valley. Ginger threw up his head, nearly dragging the reins from Taryn’s clutching fingers. She felt O’Malley’s hand on hers as he snatched the reins from her, steadying the horse with an iron grip.

‘We’d better get out of this forest...fast,’ he gritted,

‘before we’re struck by lightning.’ Water was pouring down his face, beading his eyelashes. ‘Are you going to give me a ride or not?’ He appealed to her with the full force of his glittering gaze. ‘Or do you want me to end up with pneumonia...or drowned?’

His shirt was almost transparent, clinging to his tightly muscled chest and powerful arms like a second skin. She tried not to think about what her own sodden shirt might be revealing.

She really had no choice. How could she leave him stranded up here in a thunderstorm, in pouring rain, a long, muddy walk from his home?

‘Let’s go, then,’ she mumbled, blinking away the drops of water gathering on her own lashes.

‘You mount first,’ he said without ado. Not even a ‘thank you’, she noticed. ‘I’ll climb up behind.’

Behind? She could feel her wet cheeks sizzling as he gave her a hand up, then hauled himself up behind her. Far too close behind...his powerful arms curving around her, cocooning her in the relative shelter of his all-too-male, strongly muscled frame.

She swallowed hard, chewing on her lip, fighting down an almost uncontrollable trembling. What was wrong with her? There was nothing personal about this...he was just using her...saving himself a long tramp home in the rain.

‘You hold the reins...I’ll hold onto you,’ O’Malley shouted over the rain, and she nodded, heat still firing her cheeks.

Neither spoke—other than to shout a command or a soothing word at Ginger—as they steered the big gelding out of the orchard, through the dripping pines to the ploughed fire break skirting the forest. Luckily, the carpet of fallen pine needles had prevented the track turning completely to mud, and before long they were heading downhill, following the steep track they would both have taken coming up. It was very slippery and dangerous now, needing all their concentration.

Several times, as Ginger missed his footing and almost fell, she felt O’Malley’s grip tighten round her waist, his strong hands clamping round her like a vice. She wasn’t sure if it was to save her...or himself. She only knew that her breath quickened each time it happened.

Further down the hill the track branched into two...one following the heavily timbered slopes round—way round—to the O’Malleys’ sprawling dairy farm, the other passing through the Conways’ extensive property, which lay spread out over the hills ahead.

‘There’s no sign of your horse,’ Taryn shouted as they crossed a narrow creek—which, she knew, ran into the river further round. The upper part of an old railway carriage had been dumped in the creekbed to form a bridge.

‘Don’t worry about Caesar.’ O’Malley’s deep voice rolled through her. ‘He’s like a homing pigeon. He’ll be back home by now, under shelter. Lucky devil.’