“Does that mean you’ll take the job?”

“I’d love it,” said Prue honestly, “but…well, I don’t have that much experience of babies. Wouldn’t you rather have someone more qualified?” She grimaced, thinking of the catalog of mistakes she’d made since she’d been at Cowen Creek, let alone the rest of her life. “Someone more efficient?”

“I’d rather have someone like you,” Nat said. “You’re a nice girl,” he added gruffly. “You love the Outback and you want to come back. Those are all good reasons as far as I’m concerned. And then, you need to go to London just when I do.…”

“You could almost say that we’re meant for each other!” Prue finished for him cheerfully. “I mean…jobwise,” she added uncomfortably.

Nat flashed her an enigmatic look. “What else?” he said in a dry voice.

Strong and silent…Powerful and passionate…Tough and tender…

Who can resist the rugged loners of the Outback? As tough and untamed as the land they rule, they burn as hot as the Australian sun once they meet the woman they’ve been waiting for!

Look out for more AUSTRALIANS throughout 2002 in Harlequin Romance®!

Strategy for Marriage (#3707) by bestselling Australian author of more than 80 novels, Margaret Way

If you’d like to find out more about Jessica Hart, you can visit her Web site www.jessicahart.co.uk

Men who turn your whole world upside down!

Inherited: Twins!
Jessica Hart

www.millsandboon.co.uk

MILLS & BOON

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER ONE

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER THREE

CHAPTER FOUR

CHAPTER FIVE

CHAPTER SIX

CHAPTER SEVEN

CHAPTER EIGHT

CHAPTER NINE

CHAPTER TEN

CHAPTER ONE

PRUE was slumped miserably over the steering wheel when the sound of an approaching vehicle made her jerk upright. At last! Scrambling out of the car, she saw a utility truck bowling along the track towards her, a cloud of red dust billowing behind it.

Too tired to realise that the car was effectively blocking the track on its own, she began to wave her arms frantically and even though she knew that no one in the outback would drive past a vehicle in trouble, she felt weak with relief as the ute slowed and stopped at last a few feet in front of her.

The driver wound down his window and leant out. ‘You look like you could use some help,’ he said in a laconic voice.

He had a quiet, pleasant face that was vaguely familiar. Prue groped desperately for his name. Nat…Nat something was the best she could do. He was one of the Grangers’ neighbours, if you could really call anyone who lived seventy miles away a neighbour.

‘Hello,’ she greeted him, wincing inwardly at how clipped and English she sounded compared to his slow Australian drawl. Taking her sunglasses off, she bent down to look at him through the window, and Nat found himself looking back into a pair of silvery-grey eyes that bore distinct traces of tears on the long, sooty lashes.

‘I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you!’ she said. ‘I was beginning to wonder if I’d be here all night!’

Nat switched off the engine and got out of the ute. He was a rangy man in his thirties, with the spare, self-contained look that Prue had grown used to seeing in the outback.

‘It’s Prue, isn’t it?’ he said, settling his hat on his head.

Prue looked at him in surprise. ‘That’s right.’

‘I’m Nat Masterman.’

Masterman, that was it! ‘Oh, I know,’ she said hastily. ‘I remember you coming to Cowen Creek. I was just surprised that you recognised me. Not many people notice a cook.’

Nat was puzzled himself to have remembered her so clearly. She was slight with a cloud of brown hair and a face that was piquant rather than pretty. He hadn’t noticed that much about her on the few occasions he had seen her, only her eyes, which were an unusual silver colour, and the way she had lit up whenever Ross Granger smiled at her.

‘That depends on how good the cook is,’ he said tactfully. ‘You made the best apple pie I’ve ever had.’

‘Really?’ Prue smiled at him gratefully. It was nice to think that she was good at something. ‘Thank you!’

Yes, he had noticed her smile, too, Nat remembered. He adjusted the brim of his hat. ‘What’s the trouble, Prue?’ he asked.

Reminded of her situation, Prue’s smile faded. ‘I’ve run out of diesel,’ she said glumly.

Nat’s brow rose slightly. ‘Are you sure?’

She nodded. ‘The red warning light has been blinking at me for miles, but by the time I noticed it I’d gone too far to go back. I was hoping to get to the sealed road at least—’ she went on, kicking one of the tyres in remembered frustration ‘—but the engine started to cough and splutter just up the track, and then it just died.’

She blew her fringe wearily off her face. ‘I’ve been here over two hours.’

It felt more than twice as long.

Prue saw Nat glance at her curiously and was suddenly acutely aware of what a mess she must appear. There were plenty of ways to look good, but being stuck in a car in the middle of the outback for a couple of hours was certainly not one of them.

It might not have been so bad if there had been any shade where she could sit and wait, but out here on the salt pans she had had no choice but to stay in the car. The air-conditioning had died with the engine, and even with all the windows down the sun beating on the metal roof had soon turned the car into an oven. Now, her face was red and blotchy and her curls clung limp and sweaty to her scalp.

Rubbing a knuckle under her eyes to remove any tell-tale tear-stains and hastily replacing her sunglasses, Prue could only hope that she didn’t look as if she had spent the last two hours snivelling pathetically, even if it were true.

Not that Nat Masterman seemed to care what she looked like. He was more concerned with the fuel situation. ‘These things have got pretty big tanks,’ he said, nodding his head at the car, a powerful four-wheel drive far bigger than anything Prue had ever driven at home. ‘It must have been just about empty before you left Cowen Creek.’

‘I know—and, yes, I know I should have checked it before I left,’ said Prue, forestalling him as he opened his mouth. ‘It was one of the first things the Grangers told me when I came to work out here.

‘The thing is, I’d had a really busy morning,’ she tried to explain her carelessness, ‘and I suddenly realised that we were out of flour and sugar and a whole lot of other things I need to cook the meal tonight. I reckoned I had just enough time to get into town and back before I had to start cooking, so I just jumped in the car and set off. I was thinking about…other things…and, well, I just forgot,’ she admitted.

And now here she was in another fine mess. Bitterly, Prue remembered the moment when the flashing red light had finally caught her eye, yanking her out of a wonderful daydream where Ross was marvelling at how they had ever managed at Cowen Creek without her.

He wouldn’t be marvelling tonight when he found out that she had spent the afternoon stranded halfway to Mathison and that there would be no pudding. She had planned to make his favourite, too.

Prue was suddenly close to tears. ‘I can’t believe I could be so stupid!’ she said fiercely, knowing that there was no one to blame but herself.

‘Not so stupid that you left the car and tried to walk.’

Nat’s voice was calm and insensibly comforting, and Prue looked at him gratefully. He might not be the type to make her go weak at the knees, like Ross, but he had always seemed like a nice man. Not that exciting, maybe, but quietly competent. If she had to be stranded in the middle of nowhere, she couldn’t ask for anyone better to rescue her.

Not even Ross, she thought disloyally. Ross would know what to do, of course, but he wouldn’t have been able to resist teasing her. Nat, she guessed, wouldn’t tease, and he wouldn’t rush to tell everyone how hopelessly unsuited she was to life in the outback either. He was the kind of man who only spoke when he had something important to say.

‘I don’t suppose you’ve got any spare diesel, have you?’ she asked him, hoping against hope that she would be able to avoid the ignominy of having to abandon the car altogether. If Nat had enough fuel to get her back to the homestead, she could make do for dinner and Ross might not ever have to know what had happened.

But Nat was already shaking his head. ‘Sorry,’ he said.

Prue tried, and failed, to swallow her disappointment. ‘Oh, well.’

So much for Ross not finding out. She would have to go back and confess, that was all.

Squaring her shoulders, she flashed Nat a determinedly bright smile. ‘Are you on your way to Cowen Creek?’ she asked, even though she knew the question was unnecessary. Once on this track, there was nowhere else to go.

He nodded. ‘I wanted to have a word with Bill Granger.’

‘Would you give me a lift?’

‘Sure,’ Nat began, but something in her smile, something in the way she turned despondently back to the car to collect her things, made him pause. ‘Unless you’d rather I took you into Mathison?’ he heard himself offer.

Prue stopped with her hand on the car door. She looked at him with such amazement that Nat wondered if she had misunderstood what he had said. ‘You could do your shopping while I get a can of fuel,’ he explained. ‘I’ll bring you back here, and then you can drive yourself back to Cowen Creek.’

He made it sound perfectly simple, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world for him to go back on his tracks and drive an extra forty or so miles along hot, dusty roads for a girl he hardly knew.

‘But…I thought you wanted to see Bill,’ stammered Prue, unable to believe that the miracle she had spent the last two hours dreaming about would turn up in the shape of a lean, quiet grazier in a hat.

Nat shrugged. ‘There’s no hurry,’ he said, incapable of explaining his impulsive offer to himself let alone to her.

No, there would never be a hurry as far as Nat Masterman was concerned, thought Prue enviously. He wouldn’t know how to begin flapping or fussing or panicking. You could tell by the steadiness of his gaze, by the slowness of his voice, by the easy way he moved, that hurry was quite simply an alien concept for him.

‘Even so, it would be taking you so far out of your way,’ she said doubtfully.

‘I don’t mind,’ he said. ‘But if you’d rather I took you back to Cowen Creek—’

‘No!’ Prue interrupted him, determined not to let her opportunity go. ‘I mean, if you’re sure you don’t mind, it would be wonderful if you could take me to Mathison!’ she admitted, and her smile was so dazzling that Nat blinked and wondered how he could have thought that she wasn’t particularly pretty.

He turned to open the door of the ute. ‘Hop in, then,’ he said in a dry voice.

Prue grabbed her hat and her shopping list from the car. She scrambled in beside him and collapsed back into the seat.

‘You’ve saved my life!’ she told him as he turned the ute with an economy of movement that already seemed typical of him and headed back the way he had come.

Nat raised an eyebrow at her dramatic statement. ‘You would have been OK as long as you stayed with the car,’ he pointed out. ‘The Grangers would have come to look for you eventually.’

‘Oh, I know. I wasn’t worried about my safety.’ The cab was blissfully cool after the crushing heat in the car. Prue leant forward to adjust the vent so that the cold air blew directly onto her face. She had never understood the appeal of air-conditioning until she had come to Australia.

‘You’ve saved me from having to explain what an idiot I’ve been,’ she went on, sitting back with a sigh of relief. ‘I was dreading it.’

‘I can’t see any of the Grangers getting angry with you,’ said Nat in the calm way of a man who had no idea what it was like to do anything stupid or be afraid of anything.

‘I know. That’s what makes it worse!’ sighed Prue. ‘They’re so nice and kind,’ she tried to explain, seeing Nat’s baffled look. ‘They’ve been wonderful to me. I’d always wanted to work on a real outback cattle station, and getting a job at Cowen Creek was like a dream come true. Mr and Mrs Granger are great—and Ross, of course.’

She had meant it to sound like a casual aside, but her voice came out ridiculously strangled instead. It was hopeless, thought Prue in despair. All she had to do was think about Ross and her heart clenched, squeezing the air from her lungs. She couldn’t even say his name without her throat thickening.

She coughed slightly to clear it. ‘Well, anyway, I just love being at Cowen Creek,’ she went on, ‘but I’m sure they must think I’m really stupid. They’re just too polite to say so.’

Nat glanced at her. She was staring disconsolately through the windscreen, her unruly hair pushed behind her ears to reveal a fine-boned profile. He didn’t think she looked stupid. Her face was warm, alert, quirky in an attractive way, but not stupid.

‘Why should they think that?’ he asked.

‘Because I am,’ said Prue glumly. ‘I can’t seem to do anything right. I fainted dead away once when I cut myself with a knife, and I couldn’t even watch when they were dehorning the calves. And then the other day I nearly had a fit when I found a snake in the onion sack—they all thought that was really funny,’ she remembered with a sigh. ‘They said it wasn’t poisonous but I didn’t know that, did I?’ she added, turning to Nat almost belligerently, as if he had been the one who had laughed at the sight of her screaming blue murder in the storeroom.

‘There’s no reason why you should,’ he agreed gravely, and Prue subsided a little.

‘I’d love to be able to ride well,’ she went on, ‘but all their horses seem to be half wild, and I keep falling off.’ Her cheeks burned with humiliation as she remembered how Ross had grinned as he picked her up. ‘I just seem to be hopeless at everything.’

‘Except cooking,’ Nat pointed out. ‘Bill Granger told me you’re the best cook they’ve ever had.’

‘Anyone can cook,’ said Prue dismissively. ‘I want to be able to do the things everyone else can do out here.’

‘Like what?’

‘Like lasso a calf. Like mend a fence or fix a water pipe. Like brand a cow without passing out. Like remembering to check the fuel before setting out to drive to town!’ She folded the shopping list sadly in her lap, turning it over and over until it was no more than a tiny square. ‘I’m a liability the moment I step outside the homestead!’

‘You’re just getting used to a different way of doing things,’ said Nat, but Prue refused to be consoled.

‘I’ve already been here three months,’ she grumbled. ‘How much longer is it going to take?’

‘Why does it matter?’ he asked. ‘You can’t help what you are.’

‘But that’s just it! I don’t want to be like me! I was born and brought up in London, but that doesn’t mean I’m condemned to be a city girl my whole life, does it? I don’t want people to think of me as a prissy Pom mincing around the outback, no good for anything except peeling a few potatoes or making a cake. I want to be…’

The kind of girl Ross would fall in love with. The kind of girl he would marry.

She could hardly tell Nat Masterman that, though, could she?

‘…I want to belong,’ she finished instead. She turned to Nat, and he was very aware of the intense, silver-grey gaze on his face. ‘Do you think that’s possible?’

Nat kept his eyes firmly on the track ahead. ‘Why not?’

‘Ross doesn’t think it is.’ Prue dropped her eyes and concentrated on unfolding the shopping list. ‘He thinks you have to be born here to belong. I’ve been trying so hard to prove him wrong, and now I’ve gone and made a fool of myself all over again by forgetting to check the fuel in the car! If you hadn’t come along, it would have looked as if I couldn’t even manage to go into town and pick up a few groceries without them having to come out and rescue me. I know they wouldn’t have been angry, but they’re all so busy at the moment and it would have been a real nuisance…’

She trailed off, imagining the scene if Ross or one of the stockmen had been sent out to find her, and her eyes lifted to Nat’s calm profile once more. ‘That’s why I said you’d saved my life,’ she told him.

‘You know, you’re worried about nothing,’ said Nat. ‘The Grangers like you. They’ve told me so, and they’re not the kind of people who pretend. You’re fun for them to have around and, more importantly, you’re a good cook. They’ve got stockmen to help them outside. What they really want is someone to produce meals for everyone on time, and you can do that. If they don’t want you to be different, why should you?’

‘Because Ross wants me to be different.’ The words were out before Prue could stop them and she bit her lip, turning her head away and letting her hair swing forward so that when Nat glanced at her he could see only the curve of her jaw and the long line of her throat.

‘Are you sure about that?’ he asked dryly after a moment. ‘When I saw the two of you together at Ellie Walker’s wedding, it looked as if he liked you just the way you were.’

Surprise brought Prue’s head round. ‘You were at the wedding?’ She frowned slightly. ‘I didn’t notice you.’

There had been no reason for her to have noticed him, Nat thought without resentment. He didn’t have Ross Granger’s famous looks or charm. He had only noticed her because of the way her eyes had shone that night. It was as if a light had been switched on inside her. She’d seemed to be literally glowing with happiness. Nat remembered wondering what it would be like to have a girl look at him the way Prue had looked at Ross.

‘I got the impression you didn’t notice anyone except Ross,’ he said with a wry sideways look.

It was true. Prue had had eyes only for Ross that night. The other guests, even the bride and groom, had been no more than a background blur to the wonderful, glorious fact that she was with him. It had been a perfect evening. Ross had ignored all the other girls there. He had flirted only with her, danced only with her, and then he had driven her back to Cowen Creek and kissed her in the car outside the homestead.

Prue had been so certain that that night was to prove the beginning of the rest of her life. Ross was everything she’d ever wanted, and for a while she had floated dreamily through the days, imagining how happy they would be together, writing home to tell her family that she had at last found the love of her life.

And she had. It was just that Ross didn’t seem to think that he had found his.

She smoothed the shopping list in her lap. ‘I’m in love with Ross,’ she said in a low voice, unable to resist the urge to talk about him, not quite sure why she had chosen Nat to confide in other than the fact that he seemed so solid and dependable. There was something steady about him, something strong and sure about his hands on the steering wheel.

She had been longing for someone to talk to. The only other woman at Cowen Creek was Ross’s mother, who was very kind but not the sort you could pour your heart out to, and although the jackaroos were more or less her own age, Prue’s mind boggled at the idea of trying to discuss emotions with them. Nat might not be the ideal confidant, but he wouldn’t sigh or sneer or roll his eyes the way the others would. And he wouldn’t gossip. You could tell just by looking at him that gossip, like haste, was an alien concept.

‘I’ve never felt like this about anyone before,’ she went on without looking at him, and now that she had started talking she couldn’t stop. ‘I fell in love with him the moment I saw him, just like in all the books. He was waiting to pick me up when I got off the bus from Alice Springs, and that was it. He’s like a dream come true.’

Prue looked out at the heat shimmering over the saltbush, but she was seeing Ross as he had been that day, with his dancing blue eyes and his devastating smile and that body…

She swallowed at the very thought of him. ‘It’s not just the way he looks,’ she said. ‘He’s funny and he’s charming, but he’s down to earth at the same time…oh, I can’t explain,’ she confessed helplessly, the tumbling words slowing at last. ‘He’s just…the only man I’ll ever want.’

Nat’s gaze flickered to Prue’s face and then back to the track. What was it about Ross? he wondered. He was a good-looking bloke, of course, but there must be something else to reduce a girl like Prue to this kind of state. She was obviously besotted, the way every other girl in the district under the age of thirty seemed to have been besotted with him at one stage or another.

‘What’s the problem?’ he asked.

Prue was taken aback by the sudden question. Thinking about Ross, she had almost forgotten that she was talking to Nat. ‘Problem?’

‘I guess you wouldn’t be telling me this if Ross felt the same way.’

‘No.’ Her shoulders slumped and she sighed. ‘He likes me, I suppose, but he doesn’t love me. As far as Ross is concerned, our relationship will only last as long as my visa. The Grangers get a girl in to cook during the dry season every year, and Ross probably flirts with all of them.’ It was hard to keep the bitterness out of her voice. ‘I’m just the current model.’

Knowing Ross, and the succession of girls who had worked at Cowen Creek, Nat thought it was more than likely, but he didn’t think that Prue would want to hear that.

‘Ross is all right,’ he said uncomfortably. ‘He’s just young.’

‘He’s twenty-seven, two years older than me. It’s not that young.’

‘It’s not that old either. There’s plenty of time before Ross needs to think about settling down.’

‘And when he does, he’s going to pick a good outback girl who’ll make him a practical wife,’ said Prue miserably.

Nat thought that was more than likely, too. For all his charm of manner, Ross had always struck him as having a hard head on his shoulders. ‘Is that what he says?’ he asked, deciding to stay neutral.

‘He doesn’t have to.’ She looked down at her hands. ‘He’s made it very clear that he doesn’t think I can cope with life on a station like Cowen Creek. I’m just someone else he can have a good time with, not someone he would ever think about spending his life with.’

Her voice wobbled slightly, but she was determined not to give in to tears the way she had done when the car had first spluttered to a halt and left her stranded with only the thought of how much her stupidity just seemed to prove Ross’s point. She stiffened her lip. ‘I don’t belong,’ she finished bleakly, ‘and Ross thinks I never will.’

‘You can’t blame him for thinking about how you would manage,’ said Nat cautiously. He had the nasty feeling that he was getting out of his depth. ‘It’s a hard life out here, if you’re not used to it.’

‘All I want is the chance to get used to it,’ said Prue with another sigh.

To Nat’s relief, they were approaching the turn-off onto the sealed road, where the track was marked by an old tractor tyre on which ‘Cowen Creek’ had been painted. He changed gear, wishing that it were as easy to disengage a conversation.

‘There’s no reason why you shouldn’t,’ he said as he looked up and down the long, straight, empty stretch of road before pulling out. ‘By the end of the season you’ll be carrying on like you were born here, and who’s to say Ross won’t change his mind? You just need to give him time.’

‘But I haven’t got time,’ Prue protested. ‘That’s just it. I’ve got to go home in three weeks.’

He shot her a look of surprise. ‘Has your visa run out already?’

‘No, my sister’s getting married.’ Prue’s tone didn’t suggest she found it much cause for celebration. ‘Originally they were going to have an autumn wedding, but then Cleo decided it would be much nicer for everyone if they had it in summer instead, so I’ve got to cut short my trip. I promised I’d be there, and I can’t let her down.’

She stared disconsolately out of the window, imagining London with its grey streets and its grey buildings and its grey clouds. Here the sky was an intense, glaring blue and the air was diamond-bright and the heat shimmered over the red earth and wavered along the vast, distant horizon. And somewhere out there Ross was riding his horse, sitting easily in the saddle, smiling that smile of his…

‘I wish I could stay,’ she sighed. ‘It’s not just because of Ross. I love it here. I suppose I always had a pretty romantic idea of the outback, and I didn’t really know what to expect. When I heard about the job at Cowen Creek I was half afraid that I would be disappointed, but the moment I arrived I fell in love with the place.

‘It was like coming home,’ she said slowly, the grey eyes dreamy and unfocused as she remembered how she had felt. ‘It was as if I’d always known the light and the stillness and the silence. I love the birds and the trees along the creeks, and the way the screen door bangs.’

She glanced at Nat, half-defiant, half shame-faced. ‘That’s why it bothers me so much that I don’t belong, why I wish so much that I could. Does that sound stupid?’

‘No, it doesn’t sound stupid.’ He turned his head and smiled at her, a warm smile that illuminated his quiet face and left Prue oddly startled, even breathless, at the transformation.

‘It doesn’t sound stupid at all,’ he said again. ‘That’s the way I feel about the outback, too.’

‘Really?’

Slewing round as far as she could in her seat-belt, Prue studied Nat with new interest. She had never taken much notice of him before, beyond registering his air of unhurried calm, but now she looked at him properly and was surprised at what she saw.

It wasn’t that he was handsome, at least not in the way Ross was handsome. His hair was an indeterminate shade of brown, his eyes were brown—in fact, everything about him seemed to be brown. Brown skin, brown watch, strong brown hands on the wheel. He was even wearing a brown shirt.

But still, there was something about him. It was more to do with his air of quiet self-assurance than any particular arrangement of his features, Prue decided. If he wasn’t so understated, he might even be quite attractive. His colouring might not be very obvious, but there was nothing indeterminate about that lean jaw, or the angles of his face, or the cool, firm mouth that had smiled with such astonishing effect.

Prue’s eyes rested on it speculatively. It was a pity Nat didn’t smile more often, she thought, remembering how white his teeth were, the way his eyes had crinkled at the corners and the creases had deepened in his cheeks, and for some reason a tiny, almost imperceptible tingle tiptoed down her spine and made her shiver.

Puzzled by her silence, Nat looked across to check that she was all right and their eyes met for a brief instant. There was nothing in his expression to suggest that he was aware of how closely she had been studying him, but Prue felt a blush steal up her cheeks and she jerked her gaze away.

‘You’re lucky,’ she muttered, averting her face and conscious of a quite inexplicable feeling of shyness. ‘You belong here. You don’t have to go to London and wonder if you’ll ever see the outback again.’

Nat didn’t answer immediately. A road train was bearing down on them, and he lifted a hand to acknowledge the driver’s wave as it thundered past with four long trailers.

‘You’ll just have to come back after the wedding,’ he said when it had gone, able to put his foot down on the accelerator at last. ‘The Grangers will still be here, and I’m sure they’d give you another job.’

‘I’m not sure I’ll be able to do that.’ Prue had recovered from her momentary confusion. ‘It took me ages to save the money for this trip, and I’ve spent it all now. If I wanted to buy another ticket, I’d have to start all over again.’

‘Couldn’t you do that?’

‘I could, but by the time I’d got enough money together I’d probably be too old to get a work permit—and even if I wasn’t, they would have had to have found a new cook for Cowen Creek.’

What was the betting that the next cook would be young, and pretty, and completely at home in the outback? Just the type to convince Ross that it was time to settle down, in fact. Desperation clutched at Prue’s heart as she imagined coming back to find that Ross had given up waiting for her to get used to the bush and married someone much more suitable instead.

‘So what you need,’ said Nat, following his own train of thought, ‘is a short-term job that will pay you enough to cover your fare back to Australia?’

Prue nodded. ‘Except I’ll probably need at least two jobs in order to save anything. I could get some office work during the day and waitress in the evenings, and if I stay with my parents I won’t have to pay London rents, which would make a difference. It’ll be all right if it’s not for too long,’ she tried to convince herself.

It would still take months before she could get back to Australia, she calculated in despair, and she sighed. ‘Perhaps I could rob a bank or something!’

‘What about a job that paid your flight back to Australia instead?’

‘I can’t see there being many of those advertised in the jobs pages,’ said Prue glumly. ‘Robbing a bank would be easier than finding a job like that. I might as well think about sprouting wings and flying back myself!’

‘You shouldn’t be so negative,’ said Nat. ‘Do you know anything about babies?’

Prue was momentarily thrown by the sudden change of subject. ‘Babies?’ she echoed uncertainly. ‘As in very small people, dirty nappies and sleepless nights?’

Nat grimaced. ‘It sounds as if you do know about them,’ he said in a dry voice.

‘I spent a lot of time with my elder sister’s children when they were tiny. I’ve always loved babies,’ she told him. ‘They’re a lot of work, but they’re so gorgeous and…’

She broke off, belatedly realising why he might be asking and sat bolt upright to turn to him, her face suddenly alight with excitement. ‘You don’t know anyone who wants a nanny, do you?’

‘Yes,’ said Nat, nodding and the corner of his mouth lifted in a slight smile. ‘I do.’

CHAPTER TWO

PRUE’S grey eyes widened. ‘You’ve got children?’

There was no reason why he shouldn’t, of course, but she couldn’t help feeling surprised. He seemed so self-contained that it was hard to imagine him with a wife amid the cheerful chaos of family life.

What would Nat’s wife be like? Prue wondered. Probably as cool and sensible as he was himself. Certainly not the kind of woman who would forget to put fuel in the car, or cry, or pour out her heart to a virtual stranger, she decided, and felt unaccountably depressed.

‘I’m going to have two.’ Nat’s smile was a little twisted as he thought about how much his life was going to change.

‘Going to…?’

Glancing sideways, Nat caught her puzzled expression. ‘They’re not mine,’ he explained. ‘I’m talking about my brother’s children, William and Daisy. They’re twins, just eight months old and I’m their guardian now.’ He paused. ‘Ed and his wife were killed in a car accident in England a couple of months ago.’

Shocked, Prue pressed her hand to her mouth. ‘How terrible,’ she said, conscious of how inadequate her words sounded.

‘I thought you might have heard about the accident,’ said Nat after a moment. ‘The Grangers knew Ed and Laura pretty well. They bought a property just to the east of Cowen Creek last year, and they’d help each other out on big musters sometimes.’

Prue shook her head. ‘I didn’t know,’ she said. She had been too wrapped up in Ross to take any interest in the Grangers’ neighbours she realised, ashamed. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she went on, biting her lip. ‘What were they doing in England?’

‘Laura was English, like you. Ed met her when he was over in London, but they married out here. Laura loved the outback, too, and she was quite happy to live here but she felt guilty about her parents. They’re quite elderly, and couldn’t manage the trip out to Australia, so they hadn’t been at the wedding. When the twins were born, she knew they would be longing to see their grandchildren and Ed promised that he would take her and the babies to London for a visit instead.

‘That was in April,’ Nat went on. ‘It’s a busy time of year, but Ed knew how much it would mean to Laura, so he asked me to keep an eye on things while he was gone. He said they would only be a month.’

The careful lack of expression in his voice made Prue’s heart twist with pity, and she cringed as she remembered how she had whinged on about her own problems which were so pathetic in comparison to his.

‘What happened?’ she asked awkwardly.

‘They’d been in London three weeks when Laura’s parents offered to look after the twins for a day so that she and Ed could have some time to themselves. It was the first time they’d left William and Daisy. Apparently it was a nice day, and they decided to drive out to the country…’

He trailed off, and Prue found herself imagining Ed and Laura kissing the babies goodbye, waving cheerfully as they got into the car and drove off, looking forward to a day together alone away from the city’s noise and grime. Not knowing that they would never be coming back.

‘They were in a head-on collision with a van,’ Nat finished. ‘The police told us that they would have both been killed instantly.’

‘But the babies weren’t with them?’

‘No, they were with Laura’s parents so they’re fine.’ As fine as they could be when their world had been torn apart, Nat amended grimly to himself.

He was very grateful to Prue for not offering false comfort or asking him how he had felt, what he was still feeling. He didn’t want to talk about that.

‘Where are they now?’ asked Prue, almost as if she understood intuitively that he was happier sticking to the practicalities of the situation he had to deal with now.

‘They’re still with Laura’s parents in London,’ he said. ‘I went over as soon as I heard. Ed and Laura wanted William and Daisy to grow up as Australians, and they knew that her parents would be in no position to look after them, so they’d made a will appointing me as guardian. I don’t think they thought for a minute that anything would ever happen to them, that I would ever need to take responsibility for their children.’

‘But now that’s what you’ve got to do?’

‘Yes.’ His glance flickered over to Prue. She had turned slightly in her seat to face him as far as she could in the confines of her seatbelt, her expression warm and sympathetic. ‘There was no way I could bring William and Daisy back with me after the funeral,’ he told her, and he found himself hoping that she would understand and approve of what he had done. ‘I arranged for a nanny to look after them with the Ashcrofts—Laura’s parents—until I could sort things out here and make sure that I would be able to care for them properly, but I think it’s important for me to go and get them as soon as possible.’

Prue nodded understandingly. ‘The longer you leave them, the more attached they will become to the nanny and the harder it will be to take them away.’

‘Exactly.’ Nat looked at her gratefully. ‘The trouble is, I’m going to need help. I don’t know anything about babies. I’m not sure I would be able to cope with one baby on a plane, let alone two. That’s where you come in,’ he said. ‘I think we may be able to help each other. You want to come back to Australia; I want someone to help me look after William and Daisy. I’ll buy you a return ticket if you’ll fly back with me and the twins,’ he finished.

For a moment, Prue could only stare at him, unable to believe that he could sound so casual. ‘That’s…incredibly generous,’ she stammered, not entirely convinced that he knew what a generous offer it was.

‘Not if you think about how much I need you,’ said Nat with a wry glance. ‘I can put a mob of cattle through the yards, and do all those things that you said you wanted to be able to do earlier, but I don’t know where to begin with a baby! If you come, you’re going to have to teach me how to feed them and change them and bath them and do all the other things they need. Could you do that?’

‘Well, yes, I suppose so, but—’

‘It’s not just a question of the flight either. Eve, the nanny who’s looking after William and Daisy at the moment, thinks that it would be upsetting for them to be suddenly taken away from everything that’s familiar. They won’t remember Australia now. She suggested that I spend a few weeks getting to know them before bringing them back, and it would make sense for you to come along too.’

‘I can see that,’ said Prue, nodding. ‘They would need to get used to being with us.’

‘And then there’s the Ashcrofts,’ said Nat. ‘They were too distressed to talk much when I was there for the funeral, but they’ll probably want to see who’s going to be bringing their grandchildren up.’

‘How do they feel about you taking William and Daisy away?’ Prue tried to imagine her own parents in a similar situation. ‘Don’t they mind?’ she asked curiously.

Nat thought about it. ‘I think they know they can’t manage the twins on their own,’ he said at length. ‘Losing Laura was a terrible blow for them—she was their only child—and it’s hard enough for them to cope as it is, without the worry of bringing up children. That doesn’t mean they’re not concerned, of course,’ he added, noting with one part of his mind a plane’s wing glinting in the sun as it turned. The airport was just ahead, which meant that it wasn’t far to Mathison, and he wanted Prue to understand the situation before they got there.

‘They’ve never been to Australia, and the outback sounds a very strange place to them. They were worried about the fact that William and Daisy will be isolated, and that as a bachelor I wouldn’t be able to look after them properly, but they were all right when I told them that I was engaged, and that the twins would grow up in a family. I said that the next time I came I’d bring my fiancée with me so that they could meet her too.’

There was a pause. ‘I didn’t know you were engaged,’ said Prue after a moment, and wondered why her voice sounded so hollow all of a sudden.

Or why she was even surprised.

There was no reason why Nat shouldn’t be engaged, just as there had been no reason why he shouldn’t have a wife and children. It was just that, having established that he wasn’t married, she had somehow assumed that he never would be. And if he had a fiancée, why did he need her to help him with William and Daisy?

‘I was then,’ said Nat, answering one of her unspoken questions as she stole a puzzled look at him. His voice had no inflexion whatsoever and it was impossible to tell how he felt about the fact that his engagement apparently belonged to the past.

‘I’m not any more,’ he added when Prue continued to look blank.

In one way, it made it easier for Nat that she knew nothing about Kathryn, but a perverse part of him couldn’t help wishing that she hadn’t made it quite so obvious that she had never taken the slightest interest in him. He was surprised that she had even known his name.

‘You obviously didn’t know that either,’ he commented dryly.

‘No.’ Prue shook her head. ‘The Grangers don’t go in much for gossip,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry,’ she added, and then realised that she sounded as if she regretted not knowing about the break-up of his engagement. ‘I mean, I’m sorry about your engagement.’

‘Don’t be,’ said Nat. They were driving past the airport now, where he had said goodbye to Kathryn before she’d got on the plane back to Perth. He remembered the softness of her kiss, the swing of her hair as she’d turned, the unmistakable relief in the way she’d walked away.

‘It was a mutual decision,’ he told Prue. ‘Kathryn and I have known each other a long time. She’s got a good job in Perth, and we’d deliberately decided on a long engagement so that she could concentrate on a big project she’s working on at the moment. When I got back from London I realised that it wasn’t fair to ask her to give everything up to look after two small children, so we talked about it and agreed to…postpone…the idea of marriage for the time being. It’s better this way for both of us.’

He didn’t sound bitter, but Prue had the impression that he was picking his words carefully, editing as he went along. He could say what he liked about it being a mutual decision, but he was obviously still besotted by her, she decided, unsure why she felt slightly peeved at the idea. Why else would make excuses for her?

She found herself disliking the unknown Kathryn intensely, and feeling obscurely cross with Nat at the same time. He ought to mind that his fiancée had chosen her job over him.

‘It’s not really better for you, though, is it?’ she said, more sharply than she had intended. ‘How are you going to look after the twins on your own?’

If Nat was surprised at her tone, he didn’t show it. ‘I’ll have to hire a nanny,’ he said. ‘I asked Eve if she would think about coming out to Australia with William and Daisy, even if only for the first few weeks, but I’ve just had a letter from her saying that she’s getting married and doesn’t want to leave England.’

Prue couldn’t imagine anyone turning down the chance to travel to Australia, marriage or no marriage. Ahead, the heat beat down on the road, creating a wavering mirage that blurred the horizon between the crushing blue sky and the sparse scrub that stretched off as far as the eye could see and beyond. It was like being in a different dimension altogether—so much space and so much light that Prue would sometimes feel dizzy and disembodied.

How could anyone not want to be here? Prue shook her head pityingly.

She brought her attention back to Nat, who was talking about the arrangements he would have to make. ‘I’ve contacted a couple of agencies here to see if anyone would be prepared to travel to London with me and help bring William and Daisy back. Ideally, it would be someone who wanted to stay at Mack River on a permanent basis, but they haven’t come up with anyone yet. That’s why I thought of you,’ he said, glancing at Prue. ‘When you said how much you wanted to come back to Australia, it seemed you could be just the person I need. I know you wouldn’t want to stay permanently, but it might take me some time to find someone suitable. You could stay at Mack River while you looked for another job in the area, if that’s what you want. You’d only be gone about a month. The Grangers might even keep your job open for you.’

Prue sat up straighter, fired up by the mere possibility. ‘I could ask them,’ she agreed excitedly. ‘They’ll need to replace me while I’m away, but maybe they’ll get someone who doesn’t want to stay.’

‘More than likely,’ said Nat. ‘There’s always a high turnover of staff during the dry season. It’s too hot, or too isolated, or too boring, or too much like hard work.

‘There aren’t many people like you,’ he told Prue with a slight smile, and she found herself wishing that he’d smile the way he had smiled before.

It wouldn’t take much, just a deepening of the creases on either side of his mouth, just a parting of the lips, just a crinkling of his eyes. She remembered how startled she had been, the way her heart had jolted, that odd sensation of suddenly finding herself face to face with a stranger.

For some reason, Prue’s cheeks were tingling, and when she put up a hand to feel her skin she realised that she was actually blushing! Embarrassed, without knowing why, she dragged her eyes away from Nat’s mouth, which had lifted into something that was almost—but not quite—a proper smile, and forced her mind back to what they had been talking about.

For a terrible moment her mind was blank, before memory kicked in. Going back to Cowen Creek…how could she possibly have forgotten?

Giving herself a mental shake, Prue let herself picture the situation. If she went back, Ross would know that she was serious about wanting to live in the outback. He would realise that she meant what she said, and wasn’t just amusing herself for a few months, the way the girls who saw a stint on a cattle station as part of travelling around Australia did.

Nat’s offer would mean that she would only be gone for a month or so. Surely even Ross couldn’t forget her in that time? He might even miss her. The thought flickered into life, grew stronger. Didn’t they say that absence made the heart grow fonder?

Prue slid a sideways glance at Nat from under her lashes. He was a bit older, of course, and not in Ross’s league when it came to looks, but he wasn’t unattractive. What would Ross think when he found out that she was going to spend a month with Nat? Might he even be jealous? Prue wondered hopefully.

Remembering how miserable she had been less than an hour ago, Prue smiled to herself. ‘I’m beginning to think that forgetting to check the fuel today was the best thing that ever happened to me,’ she said slowly.

‘Does that mean you’ll take the job?’

‘I’d love it,’ said Prue honestly, ‘but…well, I don’t have that much experience of babies. Wouldn’t you rather have someone more qualified?’ She grimaced, thinking of the catalogue of stupid mistakes she had made just since she had been at Cowen Creek, let alone the rest of her life. ‘Someone more efficient?’

Nat took his eyes off the road for a moment to look at her, with her unruly curls and her wide, tilting mouth and the nose that was just a little too big. ‘I’d rather have someone like you,’ he said.

He didn’t know how to explain that there was a warmth about her that was much more appealing than efficiency. He might not be able to imagine her keeping an immaculately tidy house, but he could picture her holding a baby in her arms, offering unlimited tenderness and security and love.

A little too vividly, in fact.

Nat frowned and concentrated on his driving once more. ‘You’re a nice girl,’ he said gruffly. ‘The Grangers like you. You love the outback and you want to come back. Those are all good enough reasons as far as I’m concerned. And then, you need to go to London just when I do…’

‘You could almost say that we’re meant for each other!’ Prue finished for him cheerfully.

A tiny pause.

We’re meant for each other. Her words echoed in the silence between them, and she suddenly realised how easily Nat might have misinterpreted them.

‘I mean…job-wise,’ she added uncomfortably.

Nat flashed her an enigmatic look. ‘What else?’ he said in a dry voice.

Nobody could say that Mathison was a pretty town, but Prue loved the old hotel, with its wide, wooden verandahs, the great iron water-tanks beside every house, and the pokey general store which had a weird and wonderful selection of goods and an eccentric taste in displays. Prue perked up as they drove along the wide street. She had hated the thought that she might never see it again, of returning to soulless supermarkets where everything was wrapped in layers of plastic.

Now, thanks to Nat, she could stop worrying about whether every trip would be her last and just enjoy being here. Oh, and do the shopping, of course.

Nat dropped her at the store while he went off to find some fuel. Prue still had her list, although it was so creased from being folded and unfolded so much that she could hardly read it. It was better than nothing, though. Wandering around the store, Prue found it harder to concentrate on the shopping than she would have thought. She had to keep stopping and peering at the tattered piece of paper, while her mind drifted back to Nat and the fantastic offer that he had made.

The more Prue thought about it, the better it seemed. There was no way she could miss Cleo’s wedding, but it had been hard not to resent the fact that she would have to leave Australia much earlier than she had originally intended. Now she would not only be a good sister, but she should also be able to spend another whole year here, and who knew what could happen in that time?

Prue could hardly believe her luck. Her momentary embarrassment had passed, and now all she could think about was how everything was turning out better than she would have believed possible. No wonder it was hard to concentrate on how much flour and sugar she needed!

She was coming back. Prue hugged the knowledge to her. Coming back to this place she loved so much.

And to Ross.

Prue’s heart melted when she thought about the daredevil blue of his eyes, about the way he threw his head back when he laughed and the air of suppressed energy he carried around with him, and happiness bubbled along her veins. Surely meeting Nat meant that she and Ross were destined for each other after all?

When Nat found her, Prue was gazing at a pyramid of tinned vegetables, her mouth curved in a dreamy smile. Her sunglasses were pushed on top of her head, drawing the tousled hair away from her face, and even in the dim old-fashioned light of the store Nat could see that her grey eyes were shining.

There had been a moment in the ute when something had tightened in the air between them, but whatever it had been it had gone now. Nat could tell just by the way Prue smiled when she saw him, a wide, open smile that said more clearly than words ever could that she might think of him as a friend, or an employer, but certainly not as a man.

Which was just as well, in the circumstances, Nat told himself.

‘You look happy,’ he said.

‘I am.’ Prue beamed at him. ‘I was just standing here, thinking about how miserable I was when I set out this afternoon. I was convinced that I would never have a chance to persuade Ross to love me, that I’d have to go home and never see him again. When that car ran out of fuel. I just sat there and bawled my eyes out,’ she confessed. ‘I was really pathetic! And then—’ she spread her hands ‘—you came along and suddenly everything is possible again.’

She looked at Nat with her frank eyes. ‘I feel as if today is going to prove to be the turning point of my whole life,’ she told him, ‘and it’s all thanks to you.’

Her face was alight with happiness, and Nat was suddenly aware of how close she was standing. She was so warm, he thought, so vibrant, so open and uncomplicated.

So in love with Ross Granger.

He stepped away from her, unsettled to realise that he didn’t want her thanks. ‘Are you ready?’ he asked curtly.

‘Yes, the boxes are by the door.’

Prue was puzzled and a little hurt by his brusqueness as they carried the boxes of groceries out to the ute. The light hit her like a blow as she stepped out of the shade of the verandah, and she couldn’t wait to hand over her box so that she could pull her sunglasses back down onto her nose.

Nat didn’t seem to notice at all. None of the men she had met wore sunglasses, relying on their hats to protect them from the glare instead, she supposed, but the corners of their eyes were always creased from years of squinting into the sun. Prue could see the fan of lines at the edge of Nat’s eyes now as he loaded the boxes into the back of the ute and covered them with a tarpaulin to keep out the dust.

Looking at those lines gave her a funny feeling inside—either that, or the sun was getting to her—and her gaze dropped to his mouth, which was set in a bleak line that made her frown slightly.

His expression was closed, shuttered even. Of course, Nat would be an unemotional man at the best of times, but he hadn’t been like this when they drove in together. She remembered how he had smiled, the look in his eyes when he had said, ‘I want someone like you.’

It was as if he had withdrawn into himself since then. As if, Prue thought slowly, her bubbling enthusiasm had made him retreat behind a barrier of impenetrable reserve. As if he didn’t like her being happy.

And why should he?

Prue felt a sickening wave of shame roll over her. She had forgotten what the trip to London was going to mean for Nat. For her, the job he had offered her meant the possibility of romance, a chance to achieve her heart’s desire. For him, it meant only the aftermath of tragedy.

‘I’m sorry,’ she said in a small voice as she got into the ute beside him.

Nat was bending to push the key into the ignition, but at her apology he straightened in surprise. ‘Sorry?’ he echoed blankly. ‘What for?’

‘I must sound absolutely heartless, wittering on about Ross and coming back to Australia when all you’re thinking about is your brother.’ Prue pulled the seatbelt around her and fastened it into place before turning contritely to Nat. ‘It’s going to be a terrible trip for you, I can see that. I wish you’d just told me to shut up,’ she said in a burst of honesty. ‘I feel awful now!’

Nat’s expression was rueful as he started the engine and pushed up the gearstick on the steering column. He hadn’t been thinking about Ed at all, he thought wryly. He had been thinking about her.

‘You mustn’t think like that,’ he said, contrite in his turn. ‘It’s the last thing Ed would have wanted, or Laura either come to that. They were both real live-wires, and they believed in deciding what you want and going for it.

‘They’d approve of you doing whatever you could to get back to Ross,’ he told Prue. ‘You don’t need to feel guilty about being happy over the fact that I need you to help me with William and Daisy. Ed would be the first person cheering you on!’

His voice was warm when he talked about his brother. ‘You must miss him,’ said Prue quietly.

Nat hesitated. He wasn’t used to discussing his feelings, but somehow it was easy to talk to Prue.

‘Yes,’ he admitted. ‘I do. I miss him a lot. Ed was only a couple of years younger than me, and there were just the two of us when we were growing up. We ran Mack River together when our parents died, and then Ed met Laura, and they bought their own property. I’d got used to them not being around every day, but still…it’s hard sometimes to believe I won’t see him again.’

He wasn’t looking at Prue, but she felt her throat tighten. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again, knowing that it was inadequate, but knowing too that there was nothing else to say.

Nat’s smile was rather twisted. ‘I’m sorry too,’ he said slowly, ‘but it’s William and Daisy who matter now. I’ve got to think about them, not Ed, and that’s what I’m going to do.’

When they got back to Prue’s car, they transferred the groceries into the back, and then Nat took the can of fuel he had bought and poured it carefully into the tank. He had brushed aside Prue’s attempts to pay and she watched him, feeling helpless and more than a little disconcerted to discover how easy it was to accept being looked after by someone so competent.

It was difficult to imagine that barely two hours ago she had had trouble remembering his name. Already there was something very familiar about him. How much more familiar would he be after they’d spent almost a month together in London?

The thought was vaguely disconcerting, and Prue frowned. It wasn’t as if they were going to be intimate, she reassured herself. It was just a job like any other. And Nat was hardly likely to show any interest in her, was he?

Even if she hadn’t been in love with Ross, she would have little to appeal to a man like Nat. He was quite a bit older than her, for a start, and to him she probably seemed very young and very silly. Correction, thought Prue, cringing inwardly as she remembered some of the things she had said: she must definitely seem very young and very silly.

Anyway, Nat himself had sounded far from over his broken engagement. Prue couldn’t help wondering what Kathryn was like. What kind of woman could break through that quiet self-containment and unlock his reserve? She must be quite special, Prue decided.

Hidden behind her sunglasses, her gaze rested on Nat as he tipped the can higher to let the last drops of diesel trickle into the tank and she tried to imagine him in love. He wasn’t a demonstrative man, she guessed, but behind closed doors…well, that might be a different matter…

‘OK, that’s it.’ Nat’s voice broke into her thoughts as he dumped the empty can in the back of the ute. ‘Start her up and we’ll see if she goes now.’

Obediently, Prue climbed into the driver’s seat and turned the key. The engine shuddered into life and then settled down to a steady tick.

‘Do you ever get a day off?’ Nat asked, laying a hand on the roof of the car and bending his head slightly so that he could talk to her through the open window.

‘I don’t do much on Sundays. Why?’

‘We still need to sort out a few details about this trip,’ he pointed out. ‘I could fly over and pick you up next Sunday and you could spend the day at Mack Creek. It might not be a bad idea for you to see where the twins are going to grow up anyway, and we could talk about things then. It would give you a chance to think about what’s involved too, and change your mind if you want to. How does that sound?’

‘Fine,’ said Prue. ‘But aren’t you coming to Cowen Creek now? I thought you wanted to see Bill Granger?’

‘It can wait.’ Nat didn’t think he really wanted to go to Cowen Creek now and watch Prue mooning over Ross. ‘I think I’ll get back.’

His face through the window was very close, and his features seemed uncannily clear and detailed. Prue felt as if she could see every crease at the corner of his eyes, every minute line texturing his skin, every hair that grew in the strong brown brows. She wanted to look away, but her gaze seemed to have snagged in his somehow.

‘What shall I tell the Grangers?’ she managed to ask.

‘Just say that you met me in Mathison,’ said Nat. ‘There’s no need to tell them about the fuel. You could say that we got talking and when I found out that you were going to London, I offered you the job. They know about Ed and Laura and the fact that I’m guardian to the twins now, so they probably won’t even be surprised.’

‘Right,’ said Prue, finally succeeding in wrenching her eyes away. She put the car into gear and cleared her throat. ‘I’ll see you on Sunday, then.’

She had the impression that Nat was about to say something else, but in the end he just stepped back, slapping the car roof in a gesture of farewell.

‘See you on Sunday,’ was all he said.

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