The Nanny and the Millionaire. Линда ГуднайтЧитать онлайн книгу.
She watched in fascination as they wheeled, twisted, turned in perfectly co-ordinated formation. Over the years she had seen caged budgies of many different and often exquisite colours, but in the wild they had only one colour form: green with fine dark stripes across the head and back with a bright yellow face. She could even see blue bands on the top of the bills. How absolutely lovely all these wonderful birds! Not in small numbers but thousands upon thousands. The Outback, especially the Channel Country she was finding was swarming with a rich and hugely varied bird life.
One thing to admire the V formations in the sky, another to avoid trouble on the ground. ‘Oh, my gosh!’ She braked hard, her heart jumping into her mouth. A group of wallabies reared up out of a patch of long golden grass, startling her as much as the sound of the utility had startled them. They stared at her with mild curiosity but no sign of alarm when she could have ploughed into them, then losing interest, bounded away towards the silver glitter of water.
She drove on, deciding safety lay in keeping her eyes in what lay in front of her, no matter what magnificent birds took to the air. Those dusty 4WDs were fitted with bull bars for a good reason. According to directions from Georgy and Olly, essentially the same, she was to follow the course of a long shallow billabong overhung with great River Red Gums. It meandered away to her right where the wallabies had headed. She drove in closer until she could see the labyrinth of roots they were sending out towards the water.
What she had to look for was clouds of red dust that would mark the holding yard where the men were working that day. She drove steadily, revelling in the peace and freedom. To her city eyes, the sweeping landscape looked wild and untamed. She had no difficulty understanding how appallingly easy it would be to get lost, dreadful prospect! Not that far off, billows of red dust began spiralling in great puffs into the amazingly blue sky. She felt quite pleased with herself, finding the camp so easily, when she had never prided herself on her sense of direction. It was great to have her own vehicle to transport herself. Holt had promised her she wouldn’t be tied to the homestead or the home compound like the children. She couldn’t wait to explore.
It was certainly very hot but she wasn’t finding it hard to bear. The high humidity of the tropics was worse she thought. There was no guarantee Holt would say yes to Georgia’s wish to change bedrooms, but she had to try for the child. She had been expecting a difficult settling in period, but Riley’s presence had worked like a charm. Despite predictions to the contrary the children had joined forces. That filled her with gratitude.
The closeness of the spiralling dust cloud was an illusion she found. The holding yard was farther off than she thought. She accelerated towards her destination, noticing the banks of the billabong, at this stretch more a chain of rocky gullies, were rising more steeply. The scrub, too, was becoming denser, the giant river gums spreading their canopies over the water. Now she could hear noises carrying on the wind; lowing cattle, dogs barking, the crack of whips. In mustering time she supposed the place would be alive with men on horseback and motorbikes, choppers whirring overhead.
A movement in a patch of chest high yellow grass attracted her attention. The bright red track was badly rutted in places, slowing her down. More wallabies? A full grown kangaroo? A dingo, camouflaged by the scorched grasses the same colour as its coat, a wild pig? A few tremors moved through her. What did she know about the vast Inland? Absolutely nothing. It could hold terrors she had never even thought of. The shape was moving stealthily. Every movement further disturbed its cover. She prayed it would be a lone wallaby. A kangaroo would have to be too tall, so would an emu.
In the next instant, almost turning her to stone, a fearsome dragon, dark brown, almost black, strikingly marked with yellow spots lumbered out onto the track, turning its head towards her.
For God’s sake! She braked right away. It had to be a perentie, surely the biggest one around. King of all lizards, it was at least seven feet long and if that weren’t frightening enough, it was emitting a fierce hiss along its extended neck pouch and out of its fork tongued mouth. She had read these lizards could be aggressive. She’d never seen one bigger than a frilled neck or a blue tongue in her entire life. She couldn’t risk provoking it. She brought the ute to a halt, more than happy to give the beast right of way. She was even prepared to sit there half the day if needs be, until this relic from prehistoric times thundered across the track.
There was a whole wilderness for it to run around in. Why squat there staring balefully at her? Was it possible it was protecting a nearby nest? They were close to water. She knew these huge goannas could swim. Its powerful tail was swishing from side to side, giving her the dismal impression it was about ready to lash out. Should she take off like a bat out of hell? Surely the ute could outrun a perentie? Her hands on the wheel shook as the dragon like creature suddenly reared up on its back legs—something she didn’t even know it could do—surveying her like a victim at its mercy. To her horror, it was standing as tall as a man.
Go away, please, she begged silently.
The creature didn’t back off an inch.
She couldn’t afford to sit there waiting for it to charge her and maybe bound onto the hood? A crocodile could scarcely have intimidated her more. Where was her backbone? She was showing her inexperience. Marissa thumped the wheel, then took off, jaw locked, nerves popping with strain, taking a sharp right and accelerating away towards the line of gullies. She almost expected the perentie to be flying alongside like something out of Prehistoric Park. She was sure she had read somewhere they had an amazing turn of speed.
Off the beaten track the going was really rough. She had to hold tight to the wheel, risking quick looks in the rear vision. Nothing. She must have worn it down. There was no dinosaur galloping after her, but she was bouncing around in her seat like a clown in a pantomime.
A mile off Holt lifted his head at the sound of a speeding vehicle. He had been intending to drive to another site instead he reached into the Jeep for his binoculars, training them over the landscape. One sweep and he caught a red ute in a screen of dust. It was swerving all over the place. Then it straightened out, heading straight for the chain of gullies.
What the hell was going on? Anxiety not unmixed with anger flared. This was rough country. Why hadn’t she kept to the track? Surely she wasn’t just fooling around? One thing was certain: She was driving much too fast. She had him worried. He threw the binoculars onto the backseat, then with undisguised irritation jumped behind the wheel, slewing the Jeep around and driving off in the direction of the speeding utility. It was fast disappearing into the thicket of scrub.
He had an awful vision of her crashing into branches; careening down the slope; overturning the ute in the rocky bed of a gully. She had never been Outback in her life. She didn’t look as though butter would melt in her mouth, yet there she was hooning around rugged country churning up dust. Anything for a bit of excitement! He should never have given her permission to leave the compound on her own. He was angry with himself for trusting her. And just what was supposed to be happening to the children while she was out on her little jaunt?
Silly fool! he muttered furiously. He would have thought she had far too much sense.
* * *
He found her sitting forlornly in the ute, its front wheels bogged in the churned up mud. Once he saw she was okay he felt not one twinge of pity.
‘Are you going to tell me what the hell you thought you were doing?’ he asked on a soft rasp. ‘You might as well get out of there. The ute’s not going anywhere in a hurry.’ He opened the door, extending an impatient hand.
She took it.
Her skin was as soft as the petals of a rose, yet there was that sizzle again at the slightest brush of skin. She was clinging to his hand tightly until she was able to steady herself, two feet on the creek bed. He could feel her shaking. Obviously she had given herself a good chastening fright. Abruptly his anger abated. ‘Did you hurt yourself anywhere?’ He let his eyes move over her; past the silky masses of curls, so very feminine, that haloed her lovely, dreamy face, down over the delicate, long legged body any man would approve. He had never met a girl—a woman—like this in his whole lifetime. Not one he had an irresistible urge to touch.