A Wedding At Windaroo

‘Flirt?’ Gabe inserted with a slow smile.

‘Yes.’ Her eyes widened as comprehension dawned. ‘You’re so right. Flirting! That’s exactly what I can’t do. Gosh, I don’t have a clue how to start. But that’s what a girl has to do, isn’t it—if she wants to let a guy know she’s interested?’

Just then a cloud drifted across the moon and they were plunged into darkness. Piper wished she could see Gabe’s face. Was he annoyed with her for bringing up such a personal subject? His voice sounded strangely rough and gravelly when he answered. ‘I don’t think I’m the right person to give you advice. You might learn all the wrong things.’

Wrong things? What wrong things? She thought of the babe pack again, and her cheeks flamed so hotly that she was suddenly grateful for the dark.

But next moment silvery moonlight filtered down, and she could see Gabe eyeing her thoughtfully as he leaned back with his weight supported by his hands while his long legs stretched out in front of him. ‘So you want to know how to flirt and how to please a man?’ he asked.

She gulped. She hadn’t expected that hearing him speak about this would make her feel quite so shivery and nervous.

Perhaps she should tell him to forget she’d ever raised the subject. She didn’t need his advice. Inexperienced as she was, she’d read enough books, seen enough television and listened to enough campfire boasting from ringers to know the anatomical details of sex.

In theory.

But then she remembered the last party she’d been to, when Gabe’s brother Jonno had sidled up to her and asked her to put in a good word about him to Suzanne Heath. It had hit her then that the guys were always doing things like that. They saw her simply as a buddy—a good sport—a fast ticket to an introduction to a girl—but never as the object of their desire.

Her eyes met Gabe’s.

‘I’m sure you don’t need flirting lessons,’ he said softly. He nodded towards the cattle to their left. ‘We’d be better off refining our strategies for dealing with these duffers when they turn up.’

‘No,’ she responded, a little too quickly. ‘I’m sure the duffers are cowards and will be easy to frighten. But what you were saying just now—about how to flirt—and how to—to please a man. That’s exactly what I need to know.’

He scowled. ‘I wasn’t serious.’

‘But I am.’

Releasing his breath in a slow hiss, he shook his head. His laugh, when it came, was soft and almost sad. ‘Are you calling my bluff, Piper O’Malley?’

‘I sure am.’

Oh, man. It was easy enough to sound as if she meant that, but her heart had begun to pound strangely.

CHAPTER TWO

GABE cleared his throat. ‘How to catch a man? Well…let’s see.’

A tawny owl winged its way overhead and he stared after it as it disappeared into the night. ‘To be honest, I’ve never really analysed what goes on when a man gets interested in a woman. It seems instinctive.’ He scratched the side of his neck thoughtfully. ‘But I guess something’s actually happening to our senses. They start reacting long before our brain realises what’s going on.’

‘Your senses? You mean sight, sound—that sort of thing?’ She was impressed. This sounded like useful, practical information.

‘I think so. I’d say sight would have to be number one for most blokes.’

‘Well, there you go. Men don’t even notice I’m female, so I don’t stand a chance.’

His eyes crinkled at the edges as his gaze slid over her. ‘It’s a bit hard for guys to see what’s available if a girl is always hiding under a wide-brimmed hat, jeans, baggy shirts and high-sided riding boots.’

She wriggled uncomfortably. ‘You mean I should be wearing clothes like Suzanne Heath? Dresses that are at least two sizes too small?’

‘Who’s Suzanne Heath?’

‘The chick Jonno was latching onto at a party last month.’

He stiffened like an animal on full alert. ‘So you’ve got your sights set on my little brother?’

‘No, not particularly.’ She shrugged. ‘He’s just an example. Just about any guy will do. Remember, I’m desperate.’

Lunging forward quickly, he surprised her by grasping her shoulders. ‘Piper,’ he said almost savagely, his eyes burning into hers, ‘promise me one thing.’

‘Yes?’ she whispered, forcing the single word past the sudden scary tightness in her throat. What was the matter with Gabe? He looked so fierce.

His hands gripped her hard. ‘You’re not desperate. Don’t sell yourself short. You mustn’t marry a man you don’t love.’

Startled by the ferocity in his eyes and his voice, she dropped her gaze and stared at her hands clenched in her lap as she said, ‘Maybe I’ll be easy to please.’

‘Don’t be. Just remember you deserve a good man. A man who’ll cherish you.’

Her head shot up. ‘Cherish me?’

‘Yep. That’s what you deserve.’ He smiled a shaky, crooked smile and released her shoulders quickly, as if he was surprised to find he’d been gripping her so hard.

‘I’ll remember that when the time comes,’ she said, trying not to sound as shaken as she felt. ‘But first I have to get at least one fellow to notice me. The problem is I don’t like the clothes men seem to like on women. I hate tight dresses with short skirts and low necklines.’

‘Why?’

She felt caught out by his question. ‘I—I don’t know. They look so uncomfortable.’

‘Have you ever worn one?’

‘No.’

Gabe’s smile looked more secure now. ‘It wouldn’t hurt to give it a go some time.’

‘But girls who wear them have plenty of curves.’

He grinned. ‘You go in and out in all the right places.’

She was surprised he’d noticed. But then maybe he was just saying that to make her feel better. ‘My ins and outs are very tiny. Do you think it would help if I stuffed my—my chest?’

‘Your husband-to-be might not be too happy when he discovers socks shoved down your bra.’

Her mouth tightened into a self-righteous pout. ‘By the time he finds out it won’t matter. It’ll be too late, won’t it?’

Gabe shook his head slowly. ‘My dear girl, you’ve got a lot to learn.’

She looked away. There was every chance she’d never find a man she wanted to share such intimate secrets with.

He reached over and flicked her ponytail. ‘Take that elastic thing out of your hair.’

‘Now?’

‘Yeah.’

Uncertainly, she hooked her finger under the elasticised band and slid it down, then shook her shoulder length hair free. Yellow hair, Grandad called it. Her driver’s licence said it was fair. A teacher at school had called it strawberry blonde. The biggest problem was that it came with very fair skin that she had to keep covered and out of the sun.

‘You should do that more often, Piper. You have very pretty hair. If you let a fellow see all that, especially in the moonlight, you’ll…make a big impression.’

‘I suppose…’

‘No supposing. I mean it—absolutely.’

‘So you reckon I need to let my hair down and buy a skimpy dress?’

‘It certainly can’t hurt to fem things up a bit.’

‘OK, assuming I get the looks sorted out, what comes next? What are the other senses? Sound? I don’t know if I could manage a low and husky voice for very long.’

He grinned. ‘Tell a guy what a great bloke he is and it won’t matter much how you sound. Flattery and flirtation go hand in hand. Anyway, you’ve never been one to screech or cackle. You sound fine.’

‘That’s a relief. So that brings us to smell. What impresses a guy when it comes to smell?’

‘Clean hair, clean skin.’

‘Perfume?’

‘If it’s delicate. Something that enhances your femininity but doesn’t get in the way of it.’

‘My femininity?’ What did that smell like?

An unsettling vision floated before her. She saw Gabe with a woman in his arms. A very beautiful woman with long silky hair and superior curves. Someone who smelled feminine. She could picture his sensuous lips caressing her exposed creamy throat, drinking in the smell of her.

An unexpected sound sent the image scattering. A kind of groan. Shoot! Had she made that noise? What was wrong with her?

What was wrong with Gabe? He was looking as embarrassed as she felt. Time to move this conversation along. ‘I’ll remember to make sure my perfume is delicate.’ So what senses were left? Sight, sound and smell were covered, so that left touch. Heck, no! She’d have to skip that one. But that only left taste, and no way did she want to know how she was supposed to taste!

‘Touch and taste aren’t really part of flirting. They don’t count, do they?’

‘If you’re looking for a husband they count for a great deal.’

Something about the way Gabe said that made her feel tight in the chest. ‘Well, yes. I suppose they matter when you get past flirting and around to kissing.’ She was definitely having trouble breathing. ‘Well, thanks for your advice, Gabe. I think you’ve covered everything.’

But now, darn it, he seemed reluctant to drop the subject. His deep voice penetrated the night. ‘Piper, you’re not frightened of intimacy, are you?’

Without warning, her blood began to pound through her veins, making her ears hum and her heart thump wildly. ‘I—I don’t think so.’

But she couldn’t be sure. Her limited experiences of kissing and necking ranged from mildly pleasant to downright mortifying. She should remember that this was Gabe, and if there was anyone in the world she could talk to about such embarrassing stuff it was him. Staring at her hands, still clenched tightly in her lap, she added softly, ‘I don’t know. I might be.’

She sensed him leaning towards her, and next moment his fingertips were touching her cheek ever so gently—so very gently—she could hardly feel them—and she found herself wanting to feel them, needing to feel them, found she was leaning her cheek into the curve of his hand. His big warm hand.

She knew exactly what it looked like. She could picture the strong, square shape of his palm, the light brown hairs on the back of his hand, the long, strong fingers. Eyes closed, she rubbed her cheek against his cupped hand.

She heard the rasp of his breathing and felt his thumb travel slowly down her cheek, over her chin and back again. She was amazed by how good it felt. Exciting, but sweet.

His fingertips circled slowly, ever so slowly over her cheek, her chin, her lips. Beneath his touch her skin felt different, highly sensitised, alive in a whole new way.

When his thumb moved again it reached her mouth and began to trace the outline of her lower lip. It strolled back and forth, back and forth. Then stopped.

No! She didn’t want it to stop. Hardly believing her daring, she dipped her head slightly and pressed her lips to his thumb.

Gabe’s husky voice sounded close to her ear. ‘I think you know a lot more about touching than you’re letting on, moonbeam.’

‘No,’ she whispered. ‘But I want to learn, Gabe.’ She pressed parted lips to his thumb again. The tip of her tongue touched his skin and she felt her skin flushing all over with a wild kind of excitement.

She was sure she was burning. Her face was hot. All over her body her skin felt aquiver with heat. Gabe’s face was so close, and she wanted to feel the midnight roughness of his beard against her cheek.

She suddenly knew that she needed his lips to roam her face the way his fingers had. Oh, yes, she wanted him to taste her. ‘Do you think you could kiss me?’ she whispered. ‘Just for practice?’

Somehow the gap between them seemed to be closing. Gabe was cupping her face with two hands now. He was so close. So wonderfully close. Was he going to kiss her?

She closed her eyes.

‘I mustn’t kiss you.’

Her eyes flashed open to see him pulling away.

‘What was I thinking?’ he cried, jumping to his feet.

One glance at the distress in his startled eyes and she felt exceedingly foolish. Embarrassed.

What was wrong with her? What had she been thinking? She’d been enjoying his touches so much she’d virtually thrown herself at him. How had she let herself be so carried away? With Gabe?

His hands rose to his head in a gesture of helplessness, then they dropped to his side as he let out an angry sound that was half-sigh, half-groan. ‘Piper, you have no idea how to protect yourself from men!’

Was he right? Her cheeks flamed as she watched him pace away from her, his boots crunching in the dirt. How on earth had this happened? When had their conversation taken such a dangerous turn? Had it been as Gabe described? Had her senses taken over before her brain could catch up?

He stopped pacing and turned abruptly, and she saw that his face was twisted with fierce emotion. ‘For heaven’s sake, Piper, if you go around offering yourself like that you’ll end up with the wrong man.’

Puzzled, contrite, she stared at him, while she forced her mind back over what had just happened. Minutes ago he’d been gently teasing her, then he’d been touching her with breathtaking tenderness and looking as if he wanted to kiss her as much as she wanted to be kissed. And now he looked more angry and disturbed than she’d ever seen him.

But, hang it all, what did he have to get so fired up about? He’d been the one telling her how pretty her hair looked in the moonlight. He’d raised the subject of intimacy…

Heck! Gabe didn’t have a monopoly on anger. She was getting pretty mad, too. She’d been following his lead, trusting him completely while she let her senses take over.

Folding her arms very deliberately across her chest, she glared at him. ‘Heaven forbid that I should end up with the wrong man. I wouldn’t want a man like you, Gabriel Rivers.’

He didn’t reply at first. Just stood there with his hands shoved deeply in his pockets and his jaw set. For ages they stood facing each other without speaking, sizing each other up like gladiators in a ring.

Then Gabe gave a casual shrug of his shoulders and a fleeting grin twisted his mouth. Crossing back towards her, he settled onto the swag again. ‘Glad we got that sorted out,’ he said.

CHAPTER THREE

‘DID you catch the mongrels?’

Michael Delaney was waiting on the verandah when Gabe and Piper climbed wearily out of the ute shortly after dawn.

‘Didn’t see hide nor hair of them,’ Gabe grumbled.

Piper hurried across the verandah to kiss her grandfather. ‘How are you, darling?’ She studied him anxiously as she stood holding his frail hand in both of hers. ‘Did Roy spend the night here?’ she asked.

Roy was an ancient stockman, who was as old and frail as Michael. He’d passed his use-by date as a cattleman years ago, but, unable to face the thought of a retirement home, he’d stayed on in a small cottage on Windaroo and did odd jobs about the place.

‘He only slipped back to his cottage a minute ago when he heard your ute coming back,’ said Michael.

‘How did you sleep?’ Piper asked.

‘Well enough.’

‘And you remembered to take all your tablets?’

Her grandfather sighed. ‘Every blinking one of them. I’m so full of pills I’m rattling. Now, forget about me. I want to hear all about your night.’

Gabe caught the sudden tension in Piper as she flicked an annoying strand of hair out of her eyes. This morning she’d been furious when they hadn’t been able to find her elastic band. He knew Michael’s brain would be computing madly as his shrewd old eyes took in the uncharacteristic wildness of her loose, tousled locks.

In fact, the old man’s faded blue eyes were dancing as he swung his gaze from her to Gabe and back again. ‘It was a nice night to be out,’ he said. ‘With the full moon and all it must have been a sweet spring night.’

‘It’s still August,’ Piper huffed. ‘Won’t be spring until next week.’

Michael ignored her and, settling his frail frame more comfortably in his canvas squatter’s chair, smiled smugly.

Gabe wondered why the old fellow was looking so self-satisfied. His own night had been hellishly difficult, and although they hadn’t swapped notes, he was sure that Piper hadn’t had a wink of sleep either.

Now, for the life of him, he couldn’t look cheerful, and when Michael saw no change in Piper’s similarly dour expression his smile faltered.

‘I was so sure those cattle duffers would hit that paddock last night,’ she said. ‘I’ll be furious if I find out they struck in another spot.’ Angrily she shoved her hair behind her ears. ‘I dragged Gabe out there for nothing.’

Gabe dropped his gaze in case Michael caught his sudden flush of guilty embarrassment. Thank God nothing had happened out there. It had been a close call. Way too close for comfort.

What a fool he’d been to get tangled up in that discussion about flirting. But how could he have known Piper would respond so sensually to his slightest touch?

And how could he have guessed it would be so damn difficult to resist her tempting little mouth? He’d been on the brink of making a huge mistake. And the result had been an uncomfortable tension that had destroyed the easy camaraderie they’d always enjoyed.

‘We’re disgustingly hungry.’ Piper said. ‘So I’m going to make breakfast straight away.’

Without looking back at either of them she hurried into the house, and Gabe knew she was itching to get away from him.

‘Rest your bones,’ Michael ordered, and he patted the flat timber arm of the chair beside him. ‘Piper likes to be left alone when she’s working in the kitchen.’

Gabe grimaced as he lowered himself slowly into the seat. This morning, after a sleepless night on hard ground, his wounds were complaining. He was aching all over and he felt almost as doddering and brittle as old Michael.

At least he could relax with the old man. They sat in companionable silence for several minutes while they gazed out across Windaroo’s pastures.

And then it happened.

Just when he was starting to unwind memories pressed in, demanding his attention, and instead of sunlit, grassy plains he was seeing shattered glass scattering over the highway, buckled metal and his own broken limbs.

If only he could put it all behind him. But more often than he liked memories of the crash still hijacked his thoughts.

He’d heard enough psychobabble to understand why. Suppressed anger was the reason they gave, and it was probably true. His injuries would have been so much easier to accept if they’d happened in the line of duty. Hell, he’d been putting himself in harm’s way ever since he joined the army.

Without question he’d gone with the Australian UN contingent straight into hot-spots like Somalia, Cambodia and Rwanda. He’d come under fire more times than he could count and had had two forced landings that might have been crashes.

But the irony was he’d come through all that unscathed and been wiped out by a speeding semi-trailer on a highway when he was on leave!

Enough!

‘The country needs rain,’ he said, wincing that he’d come up with such a lame topic. But he wanted to find something for Michael to talk about that had nothing to do with Piper.

Michael grunted his agreement, then turned to Gabe. ‘Did Piper tell you that I’d spoken to her about—the future?’

‘Yes.’ Gabe waited a beat before clasping the old man’s shoulder. ‘I’m sorry to hear such bad news, Michael.’

‘It’s Piper I’m worried about.’

‘She’s devastated, of course.’

Michael shot him a piercing glance. ‘You know my granddaughter almost as well as I do, Gabe. Do you think she’s going to be sensible about everything?’

Gabe hesitated, searching for the best way to answer, but he knew Michael wouldn’t appreciate any pussyfooting around the truth. ‘I’m sure you realise she’s pretty cut up that you want to sell Windaroo.’

‘Yeah, I know.’ Michael sighed loudly. ‘But you can understand why I have to, can’t you, boy? I couldn’t go to my grave knowing she’s been left saddled with this place. It’s been getting run down in recent years. There are debts. It would be a huge burden.’

‘Well…I should warn you that she’s planning to outfox you. She’s determined to find a way to stay here.’

To Gabe’s surprise Michael didn’t look as put out by this news as he’d expected.

‘She is, is she?’ he said slowly, and a little of the old sparkle flashed in his eyes. ‘Did she happen to tell you what she has in mind?’

Gabe wasn’t a man to betray a confidence, but Piper had been quite open about her plans. And for some reason he liked the idea of having Michael in the know. The old fellow could vet Piper’s line-up of suitors. ‘She plans to find herself a husband,’ he said.

Michael slapped his thigh gleefully. ‘Well, bully for her.’ He winked at Gabe. ‘She told you this last night, did she?’

Gabe nodded, not at all happy with the shining smile on his old friend’s whiskery face.

‘And?’ Michael prompted eagerly.

‘And what?’

‘And what did you decide to do about it?’

Gabe’s insides took a tumble-turn. ‘What did I decide?’

‘You heard me.’

‘Steady on, old mate. It’s got nothing to do with me.’

‘Hurrumph!’ Michael drooped as if he’d been physically wounded and made no effort to hide his disgust.

‘Hey,’ Gabe cried, leaning forward and shaking Michael’s arm gently. ‘You romantic old fool. You couldn’t possibly have thought I’d propose to her, could you?’

‘Stranger things have happened,’ came the sulky reply. ‘Besides, I know how you feel about her.’

The words seemed to explode in Gabe’s face. It was like the crash all over again. He couldn’t feel his limbs. He was fighting for breath.

I know how you feel about her…What the hell did that mean? The old man was deluding himself. How could Michael know what Gabe himself didn’t know? How was he supposed to feel about Piper?

She was the kid next door. She was special, sure. Gutsy, vibrant, doggedly loyal. He’d always admired her sweet, unaffected nature and her spirit of adventure. He felt a strong bond with her—a sense of responsibility towards her. No doubt about it. But beyond that?

His stomach took a plunge.

No way…The close call with that kiss last night was nothing. It had been an aberration…nothing more. Nothing.

Michael was watching him with the wary attention of a man in the dock awaiting the jury’s verdict.

What the hell did the old fellow expect? Gabe was years older than Piper. Right now he felt as old as Methuselah. He had an uncertain future to sort out. And the stark reality was that he was a damaged man. Even if he wanted to—and he couldn’t honestly say that he did—he couldn’t think twice about shackling himself to a vibrant young woman like Piper.

‘Piper has her sights set on someone much younger and fitter than I am,’ he told Michael.

For an embarrassingly long minute Michael stared at him in disbelief. Then a kind of acceptance seemed to settle in his tired old eyes. ‘Who is he?’ His smile was conspiratorial. ‘We can find out where he drinks and sort him out.’

Gabe laughed. ‘I don’t think she has an actual candidate lined up just yet.’

‘Ah!’ The tension left the old man. He relaxed back into his chair, folded his hands in his lap and smiled contentedly into the distance.

‘But she’s going to start seriously hunting for a husband,’ Gabe added as a warning.

‘Let her hunt,’ came the unexpected reply.

Gabe frowned. ‘I should warn you that she’s looking for a husband in the hope that it will stop you from selling Windaroo.’

‘She’s dead right,’ he responded brightly. ‘I wouldn’t need to sell this place if she had the right man to help her run it.’

‘So you’d be quite happy to see her throw herself on the marriage market?’

Michael eyed him shrewdly. ‘Don’t you think it’s a good idea?’

Gabe shifted uneasily beneath the faded blue gaze. ‘I wouldn’t know what’s best for her. I’m not her grandfather.’

Leaning closer, Michael touched him on the arm so that he had to turn back, and when he did the old fellow winked. ‘I reckon there’s no harm in letting her look around. It’ll help her to see the lie of the land. Right now she can’t see the wood for the trees.’ He winked at Gabe. ‘You’ll keep an eye on her, won’t you, son?’