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CHAPTER TWELVE
BINDI ATTACKED THE batter with the wooden spoon, beating it with gusto, until a deep ache reminded her of her bruised ribs. She’d spent the first two days after the crash supposedly recuperating in her room, although she was perfectly fine and all she wanted was to get back to work. And now Skylar had her on light duties in the kitchen, mixing up a batch of muffins for morning smoko, while Skylar and Julie were down by the billabong with Dale and Steve, helping them with the design of the arch where the bride and groom would stand and deliver their vows. Bindi itched to be down there, helping them. Weddings were such fun. Not that she was craving to get married herself, no sir. But the way love seemed to shimmer in the air on the day of a wedding was intoxicating. And the way friends and family gathered together for a heartfelt celebration, with more food and drink than the guests could handle. That was the fun part.
Hardly any expense was to be spared for this wedding. There were going to be thousands of fairy lights hung between poles and the trunks of trees, or around a raised wooden dance floor that Steve was building, especially for the occasion. On the day before the event, a large white tent would be erected, looking more like a castle from a fantasy book with soaring turrets and dipping white canvas, just in case of rain. It was the beginning of the rainy season, and while December could be deceptively dry, they might also have the first storm of the season sooner rather than later. Fingers crossed that wouldn’t happen. With two weeks left before the marriage, the weather forecast was looking good, but that could change in the blink of an eye.
Daniella’s brother, Dean, and his wife, Naomi, were flying over from Montana for the wedding. Dean was part owner of Stormcloud, but had only visited twice in the past fifteen years. So this was a momentous trip for more than one reason. Daniella had been rushing around like a headless chook for weeks, wanting everything to be perfect for the wedding, but also perfect for Dean.
With an irritated flick of her wrist, Bindi brushed a loose hair away from her forehead and a spike of pain flared behind her eyes. Bindi winced and closed her eyes for a second. Just as Mack had predicted, she was now sporting a wonderful black eye that any boxer would be proud of. Every now and then, the cut on her head twinged, as well, reminding her she still wasn’t completely recovered.
The day of the accident had been long and excruciating in more ways than one. Dale had arrived to pick them up from the crash, and he took them straight to the medical clinic in Dimbulah. Mack had been right, she didn’t require stitches; a few butterfly strips, and a bandage were enough to treat the wound on her temple. The doctor confirmed she was only suffering bruising on her torso from the seatbelt, and she’d recover with time and rest. The same went for Mack. And his leg was also fine. Then Dale drove them down to the police station and Nash met them at the door, concern written all over his handsome features. Once Bindi had assured him they were both okay, they recounted the accident to Nash, including the part where Mack thought it might’ve been sabotage. Then, she told her tale about Mutt and her brother as briefly as she could. Nash could find out the details from the New Zealand police if he needed more information. But he needed to know why she thought Mutt should be a person of interest in his inquiry. Nash’s eyebrows rose when she told him about what Kai had done, but that was the only outward sign he was shocked by her brother’s abuse. Nash was nothing if not professional with them both, and Bindi was almost glad when he didn’t make a big thing over the incest part of her story. She might well have broken down in tears, if he had. Nash agreed to have Mutt found and interviewed as soon as possible.
Then Mack had told a strange tale of a man who’d accosted him after his ride at the rodeo, warning him not to try to get back onto the circuit. It was the first Bindi had heard of it, but now she understood the reason he believed Clarissa might be involved in this thing. He had no proof this thug was in any way connected to his nemesis, but he said his gut told him it was the case. Nash looked dubious when Mack said the words gut instinct, but agreed to follow the lead.
Arriving back at the station, all Bindi had wanted to do was crawl into her bed and sleep. Which she’d done a lot of over the past few days.
“Well, hello there.” Bindi spun around, startled by the sound of the deep, male voice. Mack was standing in the doorway, flashing a glimpse of his beautiful smile at her. Her heart did a double-tap inside her chest. “How are you feeling?” Mack asked, an unusual awkward hesitancy in his voice. But then he grinned, that charming, handsome smile returning to his face, and her heart did a hundred double-taps all at the same time. He looked damn gorgeous. Today his black jeans were complimented by a sky-blue, Stormcloud work-shirt, with the logo on the left pocket. And his black Stetson, which he’d rescued from the car wreck, was perched at a jaunty angle on his head, the low brim giving him that dangerous, rakish look she was quickly getting used to. Apart from his own black eye—worse than hers due to his broken nose—a rough, day-old growth covered his jaw, and he looked roguish, like a warrior of old freshly returned from battle. And sexy as hell. The bruising only made him look more disreputable and dangerous.
Bindi had hardly seen Mack over the past few days, because they’d both been supposedly recuperating in their dorm rooms. Although, she seemed to have followed instructions better than he had, as she’d seen him from her bedroom window yesterday driving an ATV on his way down the driveway, possibly to retrieve the mail. She’d scowled at him through the glass. Why did he get to break the rules? While she was stuck in her room, with Skylar threatening to march her bodily back to her room if she dared set even one foot in the kitchen before her time was up.
She lowered her eyes, suddenly bashful about meeting his gaze. Then drew in a breath and forced her shoulders back. This would never do. They’d agreed to be friends; work colleagues. And she needed to start seeing him that way. Instead of the naked Mack who’d been haunting her dreams over the past two nights. Naked and doing things to her that friends just didn’t do. Shit. She hung her head and closed her eyes. Why had she gone and thought that? Now, all she saw were those mental pictures of Mack doing things to her body all night long, dancing before her eyelids.
“Bindi, are you okay?” She didn’t need to open her eyes to know a concerned frown was hovering between his brows.
“Oh, yep, I’m fine,” she squeaked, lifting her head and nearly dropping the mixing spoon. Mack was no longer in the doorway. He was striding across the kitchen, an intent look on his face.
“Skylar said you were recovering well, but I should’ve come and checked on you myself,” he said, slowing his headlong rush, but not stopping altogether. He muttered something else unintelligible under his breath that Bindi didn’t catch. Almost as if he was berating himself for leaving her alone.
Oh, God, he was coming around the kitchen island. Reaching for her. If he touched her, she’d melt into his arms, she just knew it. All her hard-won resolutions from the past two days would vanish in a puff of smoke. “No. Nope. You shouldn’t have. I’m fine, really. Stay back.” Desperate, she raised the bowl and wooden spoon, almost as if they were a shield that could protect her from his physical presence, and waved them in his face.
He stopped, tawny eyes widening in surprise. “Okay,” he drawled. “No need to get snippy. I didn’t mean to upset you.”
Oops. Maybe she’d overacted. But it was too late to back down now. She tried to go for casual indifference. “No, you didn’t upset me. I just need to get this batter in the oven, that’s all.” She bustled around the kitchen, laying the muffin trays with a clang on the solid wood countertop. “Skylar’s left me in charge of getting smoko ready, so I’m a bit under the pump.” Spooning batter into the moulds, she offered him a bright smile.
He backed away, and the concern faded from his eyes. Replaced by a sheen of hard emotion she couldn’t quite pinpoint.
“Sure, you’re busy. I’ll leave you alone, then. See you around.” The last words were thrown over his shoulder.
Ugh, that cocky swagger seemed to be back with a vengeance. She’d thought she’d broken through those barriers, so he no longer found the need to act all egotistical around her. Obviously, she’d been wrong. It was a bucket of cold water over her raging hormones she needed. Who was she kidding? Mack hadn’t changed. Wasn’t going to change. He was still the arrogant, hot-headed cowboy she’d first met on the road to Stormcloud a week ago. Why did she think that one night spent in a swag with him would alter who he was? Or how he viewed her?
“See ya,” she called out, deliberately making her voice bright and energetic. Let him think he hadn’t affected her at all. She watched until he disappeared through the doorway, then sagged against the countertop. She was going to have to get her shit together. Next time they met, she needed to be better prepared. Have her defenses well and truly in place, so he couldn’t affect her like that.
Without any of the intensity of emotions she’d been feeling mere seconds ago, she apathetically spooned the rest of the mixture out.
The problem was, something was different about her since she’d returned from the rodeo. Something so subtle that she almost couldn’t put her finger on exactly what it was. But deep down, she knew. She was different because of the night she’d spent with Mack. He was indelibly printed on her soul, whether she liked it or not. Whether she accepted it or not. There was a connection between them that no matter how hard she tried to ignore, it tugged on her heart every time he appeared. Like right now.
She’d spent the last few days dissecting in minute detail her reasons for sleeping with Mack. It’d been a reckless, spur-of-the-moment decision that was totally out of character for her. But why? And why Mack? Had she done it because she felt indebted to him for saving her from Mutt? Her heart had certainly run through a gamut of emotions that night. She’d been so angry at Mack one minute. Then terrified for her life the next. Then terrified for Mack’s life the moment after that. He’d been so courageous, coming to her defense without a thought for his own safety. Savagely beating a man nearly twice his size. No one had ever done that for her before. Stood up for her. Saved her from physical harm. Defended her honor. Even before he knew her dirty little secret.
Least of all her brother. The one person who should’ve been her protector. But instead had turned out to be her tormentor. The only person who’d stood up for her all those years ago had been her father. Her mother had disowned her, preferring to wallow in her own grief and self-lassitude than to reach out to her only daughter.
It was no wonder Bindi had been drawn to Mack. Some tiny, wasted, girlish part of her brain saw him as her knight in shining armor, come to rescue her. If only he’d been around the night Kai had attacked her. But that was a pure fantasy. No one had saved her from Kai. No one ever would.
Later that night, all the Stormcloud staff were having dinner with the guests. There was only a week left and the last of guests would depart, leaving the station free until the middle of February, when it would all start back up again. Bindi was listening intently to the middle-aged lady on her left, who was explaining that she’d always wanted to visit this area, as it was on her bucket list, and she was so grateful to Steve for taking them up onto the escapement this afternoon so she could see the country spread out in all its glory beneath them. But as the woman, Gloria, expounded on how beautiful this land was, her gaze kept straying over to where Steve sat next to Daniella. Bindi didn’t blame Gloria. Steve was a good-looking man. And he was well used to some of the female guests cooing over him. He put up with their attention with mildly amused humor. Daniella, however, wasn’t so forbearing, and frowned at Gloria when she glanced once too often in Steve’s direction.
Bindi was only half-listening to what Gloria had to say. The reason for her distraction was seated directly across from her. Mack’s scowl was deep and thunderous whenever their gazes met, even while he talked to the man beside him with animated charm. He’d been scowling at her all night, but never actually said a word to her. And she probably deserved it. But his frowning attention was making her nervous and others were starting to notice, as well. He’d removed his hat, and the light from the flickering candles Daniella used to set the dinner-time mood drew his features into sharp relief. A strong, aquiline nose and high cheekbones set off his determined mouth. Bindi hated to admit it, but Sasha had been right, Mack did have a come-hither gaze. When he looked at her with that heavy-lidded stare, it was as if she was the only girl in the world. And he wanted her and no one else. Which her head knew was ridiculous, if only her stupid heart would cooperate.
She wanted to ask him about his injuries, to see if they were healing as well as hers. And more importantly, she wanted to know if he’d had any more headaches or dizzy spells. The crash and the bump to the head may well have aggravated them. She needed to find somewhere private to ask him, but his standoffishness was grating on her, and she couldn’t find the courage to open her mouth.
Nash came up and tapped her on the shoulder and she was glad for the interruption. “Will you and Mack come join me in the boardroom when you’re finished, please?” He said it loud enough for Mack to hear. It must mean he had some news. Was it good or bad?
