Mail-order Bridegroom Part 29

man said, I could have failed in my takeover bid and lost everything."

"Not everything," she suddenly realized, tears starting to her eyes.

"Not the ranch."

"No," he conceded.

"I made sure that was protected by our prenuptial agreement."

"You told me to read it. I guess I should have." She gazed up at him a

little uncertainly.

"Hunter?"

His eyes glittered with amus.e.m.e.nt.

"Yes, Lean? Could it be there's something you forgot to tell me after all?"

He reached for her braid, releasing the strands and draping the curls across

her shoulders.

"I believe there is." A slow smile crept across her mouth and she tilted her head to one side.

"Yes, now that I think about it, I'm positive there is." She stepped into his arms and rested her cheek against his chest.

"Have I told you yet how much I love you?"

He dragged the air into his lungs, releasing his breath in a long, gusty sigh.

"No. I believe you forgot to mention that part."

"I have another question, and this time you have to answer," she said, pulling back to look up at him.

"Why did you marry me?"

He didn't hesitate.

"Because you were going to marry the next man who walked through your door.

And I couldn't let you do that unless I was that next man." His tone reflected his determination.

"Fact is, I planned to be the only man to walk through your door."

"But you wanted to buy the ranch." It wasn't a question."True. At first, I wanted it in order to block Lyon and force them into avulnerable position. Later it was so that I could protect you from them."

"That's what Buddy Peterson meant when he said that the takeover attempt was a chivalrous move?"

Hunter shook his head.

"It wasn't. Buying the ranch would have facilitated my takeover. Marrying you..."

"Was riskier?" she guessed.

"A little. But worth it." He reached behind her and removed a file folderfrom his briefcase, handing it to her."What's this?""Open it and find out," he said, throwing her own words back at her.She nipped open the file. Inside she found the deed to Hampton Homestead--free and clear, and in her name. The date on the t.i.tle was the day before their wedding.

"Hunter..." she whispered."I love you, Leah. I've always loved you. How could I not? You've given memy dream."

She managed a wobbly smile, tears clinging to her lashes.

"I think it's time for some new dreams, don't you?"

He enfolded her in his arms.

"Only if they're made with you," he said.

And he kissed her. He kissed her with a love and pa.s.sion that she couldn't

mistake. And wrapped in his embrace she knew she'd found her life, her heartand her soul. She'd found her knight in s.h.i.+ning armor.At long last her dragon had been vanquished.

A FAULKNER POSSESSION.

by margaret way.

CHAPTER ONE.

end of school. It invoked so many memories, exquisite and painful, time wa.s.suspended while Roslyn became lost in them. Students and fellow teachers were mostly long gone, but she continued to sit at her desk staring outbroodingly over the beautifully manicured lawns and gardens of SeymourCollege for Girls. There were many jacarandas in bloom in the grounds, butinstead of emerald sweeps of lawn and a glorious, lavender blue haze, herinner eye was possessed by her old visions. The immensity of the desert. a burning sun going down over infinite miles of red sand. towering, windsweptdunes transformed by the sunset into pyramids of gold. a raven-haired youngman--how beautiful he was astride a wonderful, palomino horse--a small girlup before him, her enormous topaz eyes full of wonder and adoration for allthe vast chasm between them.

Mac.u.mba. Marsh Faulkner. It gave her no peace to think of them.

Marsh, once her idol, now the man she struggled daily to keep from herthoughts. The old, remarkable friends.h.i.+p? Banished without a trace. Exceptfor memories. Memories had the power to return at any time, like oldpa.s.sions that refused to die.

Roslyn's eyes clouded with melancholy. She slumped back in her chair unawareher hands were gripping the mahogany arms. It wasn't as though she hadn'ttried. Even now she blinked furiously in an effort to dispel those hauntingimages, but they continued to possess her; so vivid, so immediate, she felt nostalgia and pain in every cell of her heart.

For most of her childhood and adolescence, the end of term meant only one thing. The return to Mac.u.mba. Stronghold of the Faulkners.

Flags.h.i.+p of Faulkner Holdings, a beef cattle empire that spread its operations over the giant state of Queensland, from its desert heartland to the lush jungles of the tropic north and into the vast wilderness of the Northern Territory, one of the world's last great frontiers. The Faulkners, descendants of the founding fathers, were the landed establishment, enormously rich and powerful, and heirs to a splendid, historic homestead that had in its history entertained royalty, Indian maharajahs and countless V. I. P's.

And my mother is the housekeeper, Roslyn thought. The whole thing just broke her to pieces. Her beautiful, hardworking, incredibly loyal and long-suffering mother was housekeeper to the Faulkners and had been for the past ten years. She would never come to terms with it, her nature behind the cool facade, bright, pa.s.sionate and above all, proud. My mother, all I have in this world, is just another Faulkner possession. She could be here with me, free and independent, yet she chooses to remain in service. It didn't bear thinking about, and most of the time Roslyn couldn't. Her great purpose in life since she'd been able to earn money was to provide for her mother: to repay all her mother's endless sacrifices. She had a house: there was room: they could live together. Except for the grievous fact her mother chose to remain on Mac.u.mba.

Oh, h.e.l.l!

Roslyn stood up so precipitously she sent a pile of textbooks on the edge of her desk flying. Sighing, she bent to retrieve them and as she did so, Dave Arnold, MARGARET WAY 7.

the junior science master came into the room. He took one look at her and hurried around the desk.

"Here, let me get those, Ros!"

This was the colleague who had lit up Dave's year. Roslyn Earnshaw. A slender, graceful young woman, average height, great legs, slight but sensualcurves, wonderful dark hair he had sometimes seen in a cloud, now neatlyconfined at the nape; large, faintly slanted topaz eyes, a flawless magnoliaskin that was the envy of all Seymour. Dave, like everyone else, thoughtRoslyn a natural beauty who played down her looks. She was alwaysbeautifully groomed in good, cla.s.sic clothes, but Dave thought quite anotherperson lurked behind the contained exterior. A witching, pa.s.sionate personwith a volatility just below the surface. Not that her pupils didn't loveher. They adored her like an older, more beautiful and clever sister. But then, Roslyn showed another side to her students. It was with staff that she maintained a pleasant, but impenetrable reserve. She was highly regarded asa teacher, but no one knew much about her private life.

Roslyn Earnshaw was something of an enigma, which greatly endeared her to Davewho found mysterious young women terribly glamorous.

He stacked the books on the desk and Roslyn thanked him with a smile.

Sadness to suns.h.i.+ne! It entranced Dave, who asked, as if he didn't alreadyknow, "Your car is being serviced, isn't it?" .

Roslyn pulled down the window and locked it.

"Don't worry about me, Dave. I thought: you long gone."

"Without saying goodbye?"

She looked at him with gentle wry ness "You did say goodbye. At the staff party."

"That was public. This is private. Besides, someone has to drive you home."

"You do have a kind heart, Dave. Thank you. I'm very grateful."

A few minutes later they were walking through the empty corridors and out to the staff parking lot, its functionalism masked by tall borders of flowering

oleanders. Seymour was justifiably proud of its magnificent grounds. Theannual Spring garden party drew huge crowds."What do you intend to do with yourself over the holidays?" Dave asked as they were driving away.

"I haven't decided yet." Roslyn gave a faint sigh. "My mother wants me tovisit her, but there are complications.""Such as?" Dave was curious."Other people, Dave. Other people to spoil things."Dave took a moment to digest that."I see." He glanced at her quickly."You never talk much about your family. In fact, you never talk about them at all."

"I haven't got much of a family, that's why. I'm an only child. My fatherwas-killed when I was fourteen.""I'm sorry, Roslyn," Dave said with genuine sympathy."That accounts for the sad look.""I didn't know I had one.""You do. The reverse of the super-efficient look we all know. But getting back to your mother, has she remarried? Is that it?"

She should have remarried. She should have had someone to love her, Roslynthought."Mother never remarried," she told Dave."My father was something of an adventurer. As a young man he packed a bag and headed for the outback to become a jackaroo. He thrived on station life,tough as it is. Eventually he got to manage an outstation. When he was twenty-six he met my mother. She was an English girl working her way around Australia with a friend. Her mother died when she was three. Her father remarried a year later and started another family. According to my mother,her stepmother never wanted her and things got worse as my mother grew up. I should tell you, she's beautiful, and that doesn't always make for a happylife. Her upbringing made her very vulnerable. Sometimes I think she's still a lost child.

"Anyway, she left home as soon as she was able and came to Australia with herfriend, Ruth. They've kept in touch through the years. My father fell inlove with my mother at first sight. He could never get over the wonder ofgetting her to marry him, he said. She was so refined and gently spoken andhe was very much the prototype of Crocodile Dundee, funny, gritty, verydirect. I loved him and he adored his two girls. Once he was settled, hestarted stepping up the ladder. When I was about ten, he became headstockman of a very grand station indeed. Life was a lot easier and settled for my mother. A nice bungalow, more money, permanency if things worked out.They did. Dad did become overseer, but he was killed a little over a yearlater."

Dave took his eyes off the road to stare at her.

"How did it happen?"

"He was thrown from his horse and broke his neck. He had lived in the saddle, that was the tragic irony. My mother never got over it. For me the pain has dulled with the years, but I've always been conscious of loss, ofmissing him. An expression, a song, the scent of the bush makes it all comerus.h.i.+ng back. Life is so sadF' ' " It is for a lot of people. Where is yourmother now? "

"Still at the same place." Roslyn couldn't control the strain in her voice.

"After Dad was killed, the owner offered her a job and she took it."

"You don't sound too happy about it?"

"Not then and not now," Roslyn admitted.

"We could have made it on our own."

"But you said yourself your mother is a vulnerable woman. She would have been devastated at the time. Widowed so early with a young daughter. Times like that, people either make a complete break or stick with what they know.What job was it?"