AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I hope so. Remind me to take the ATV trip next time, will you,” she said, wiping beads of sweat from her brow beneath the helmet. Bindi thought Petra was only half-joking.
Ten minutes later, they crested the last rocky outcrop, and the ground flattened out beneath the horses’ hooves. Bindi led the way toward a cleared area, shaded by a stand of ironbarks. As they drew rein, she heard Petra’s intake of breath.
“Oh, wow, you weren’t kidding.” The older woman’s eyes bulged as she took in the vista, now visible as they broke through the last tree line blocking their way.
The escarpment dropped off in a dramatic cliff face twenty meters in front of them, with a hundred meter drop to where the flat floodplains spread out like an olive-and-red patterned carpet below.
She helped Petra dismount, and tied both their horses to a makeshift railing Steve had created from a fallen sapling. “Go and take a look,” Bindi urged. “I’ll unpack the saddlebags and set up smoko for you all.”
“Franco, you have to see this,” Petra called to her husband, who was just dismounting from Captain, the other part-clydesdale. He removed his helmet and wiped the sweat and dust from his face, which was going an interesting shade of red. Most guests weren’t used to this Queensland heat, and she was going to need to keep an eye on him; the last thing they wanted was for him to keel over with heat exhaustion.
“Why don’t you and your lovely wife take a seat on that large rock over there?” Bindi pointed to a flat rock a little way back from the edge of the cliff, still in the shade of the branches spreading above. “Here, drink this.” She handed him a bottle of water she’d plucked from her saddlebags. “I’ll bring you over some refreshments soon.”
The next ten minutes were spent in a flurry of helping Sam and Leah dismount, making sure their horses were tied up securely so they didn’t wander off, and setting up the simple afternoon tea on a second flat rock next to Petra and Franco. To her surprise, Mack took charge of the horses for her, running his expert eye over them all to make sure all were sound and none of them were overheated.
“What’s smoko?” A voice drifted over her left shoulder as she poured hot water into the row of mugs she’d set up on her natural stone table. She turned to see Mack regarding her from beneath the brim of his black hat, one eyebrow quirked up in a question mark. She hadn’t been ready for his presence so close to her, and his smoldering gaze hit her right between the eyes, sending a shock of heat to her gut.
She laughed a little too loudly to cover her reaction. “I keep forgetting you Americans have no idea of our Aussie slang. Smoko is another word for afternoon tea. You know, when we take a break. Back when everyone used to smoke, the old ringers would light up a ciggie or two.”
“A ciggie?” His confusion was comical.
Franco came up and slapped him on the back. “You know, a cigarette. A cancer stick. Smokin’ a tab. Light up a smoke. You young men know nothing nowadays.” He shook his head and reached for a plate and one of Skylar’s famous brownies. Bindi was glad to see his glowing-red face had subsided to a more natural color.
“Riiiight.” Mack drew out the word in his slow drawl. She handed him a brownie on a plate and gave him a cheeky wink. This guy had a lot to learn. But she carefully moved to the other side of the rock table, putting distance between her and his sexy drawl that was doing funny things to her insides.
The ride back down the escarpment was pleasant enough. The four guests chatted between themselves and Mack rode at the back of the pack, while she led the way home. It gave her time to think about what else she needed to do this evening. Skylar had been happy to give her the afternoon off, but she knew that as soon as she set foot in that kitchen, it’d be all guns blazing to make sure the evening meal was perfect and served on time. She hardly noticed how quiet Mack had become as they rode down the dusty road and into the stables.
Busying herself with the guests, she showed them how to unsaddle their mounts and turn them all out into the adjacent yard for a much-needed drink and where Steve would come and feed them later on this evening. Then she waved the guests goodbye, promising to see them all at dinner that night, and began to unsaddle Savanah. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw that Picasso had been left tied to the railing, still fully saddled. Where was Mack? What the hell did he think he was up to? He couldn’t just slope off like that and leave her with all the work. The cheek of the man. She stormed down the length of the shed, carrying Savanah’s saddle, peering into each stable. Where had he gone? Was he already on his way to the staff quarters? When she found him, she was going to give him a piece of her mind. And Steve was going to hear about this. Steve didn’t take kindly to slackers.
Turning into the tack room, she dropped the saddle onto a storage rail and turned to head out of the stables to go and find that… Hold up. A figure morphed out of the gloom in the corner of the tack room.
“Mack, is that you?” she demanded.
“Yep. Sorry, just give me a moment.” His voice sounded funny, weak, like it was traveling over a long distance.
Her boots tapped over the wooden floorboards as she moved closer to the man huddled in the corner. He was crouched down, head leaned against the side of the shed as if using it for support, hat dropped haphazardly on the floor beside him.
“What’s wrong?” Concern replaced the anger in her chest, and she reached out to touch him. His shoulders were rigid, and a slight trembling ran through his body.
“Nothing. I just felt a little dizzy, that’s all. I’ll be fine in a second.”
Dizzy. Why would Mack feel dizzy? Was he heat stressed? Damn, she should’ve taken more care to see he drank lots of water as well, not just the guests. Newbies to the Queensland heat were often stunned by the effect it could have on them.
“You might have heatstroke,” she explained gently. “Wait here, I’ll get Dale to give you a hand down to your room. And I’ll—”
“No! I don’t have heat stroke,” he ground out between gritted teeth.
“Then what…?”
“Jesus, I hate this,” he spat. “I should be able to conquer this.”
“Conquer what?” He wasn’t making much sense.
“Please don’t tell anyone. Especially not Steve.” Mack’s hand was like a brand on the skin of her forearm as he reached over to grab her. She stopped, startled by his touch, and startled by his intensity.
“I’m not…”
“Please, Bindi.” He lifted his head and speared her with tawny eyes. Right at that second, he reminded her of a cornered lion. Dangerous. And beautiful.
