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CHAPTER TWO
TWENTY-FOUR HOURS later, Julie was back in the family lounge, staring out the same window. Her foot tapped restlessly on the wooden floorboards. She clenched her teeth and then worried at her bottom lip. Today was a carbon copy of yesterday; merciless sun lighting the indigo sky as the eucalyptus leaves hung limply, the heat shimmering off the branches. A fish surfaced in the billabong, sending out ever-increasing ripples toward the rushes lining the edge of the water. Most likely a big barramundi—her father kept the billabong well stocked so the guests could go fishing. The bush vista outside the window was oblivious to her internal struggle, however, and she let out a small hum of annoyance.
Her father had ordered her to stay indoors. She was allowed to help Skylar in the kitchen, and Daniella with any administrative tasks, like paperwork, or returning phone calls. But she wasn’t allowed to take part in any outdoor activities. Which meant she’d been banned from the horse trek up to the top of the escarpment yesterday afternoon, and wouldn’t be allowed to go on the ride out to the abandoned gold mine today, either. Instead, Dale, her stepbrother, would be taking her place, with Wazza, the lead station hand, helping him out.
She ardently wished that Steve had never seen that damned letter. Now it was as if he and Daniella had taken charge of her every movement; her every thought. She didn’t want to seem ungrateful; they only had her safety—as well as their own—in mind. But this was taking it all a little too far. Julie liked to stay positive, it was the best way to be. There were too many negative people in the world already. Skylar often teased her by saying they were exact opposites; while Skylar was an introvert who loved nothing better than to be left alone in her chef’s kitchen for hours on end, Julie was an extrovert who loved to chat to anyone who’d listen and who always had a funny story or a silly dance to make people laugh. Her father had often called her the light in a dark room, always quick with a smile and a warm touch. But she didn’t mind being called a joker, if that’s what it took to brighten the mood.
But over the past few days, she hadn’t been able to find much to smile about. And when she had smiled, it’d felt forced.
Steve had called Nash in to talk to her last night. He’d turned up in his police uniform, the blond surfer curls and easy-going smile hidden behind his serious, professional façade. Nash’s solemn face and his myriad of penetrating questions had made her stomach flutter with concern.
But that was last night. In the cold light of day, all this anxiety seemed a tad ridiculous.
Now three people knew her secret. At least they’d agreed not to let anyone else know. Yet. Julie had had to plead hard to persuade them to keep her problems private, saying she just wasn’t ready for everyone to know. It was her confidential business, and she had a right to keep it to herself. Nash consented, saying he could wait until he did a bit more digging first, to see if he could find out any more details. But Nash had also qualified his statement, by saying that if he felt the threat posed by this guy became imminent—which Julie took to mean that Skylar in particular, or any of the rest of the family were put in danger—then he’d be honor-bound to inform them. It was a daunting thought, having to tell everyone; reveal to them all not only did she have a stalker, but guess what, he was obsessed with her because she’d had an abortion. How would they react? Nash hadn’t seemed disapproving in any way as he’d taken her statement, even as she’d studied his eyes to check for any flash of cynicism. But there’d been none. How would he keep the details away from Skylar, she wondered? But then perhaps it was part of the job, and perhaps Skylar had learned not to ask of Nash what he wasn’t willing to divulge. And neither Steve nor Daniella had brought up the subject again.
Nash had agreed with Steve that added security around the station wouldn’t be a bad idea. Told Steve he could use the excuse that he’d been meaning to do an upgrade for ages, and no one need be any the wiser. It was really Julie’s safety they were worried about. Daniella had jumped on the idea, saying she was going to make some calls straightaway, while Julie had sat, quietly fuming. There’d been no more mention of a personal bodyguard, which calmed her fears a little. This stalker guy hadn’t given them any reason to think he’d follow through on any of his sick threats. He was back in Brisbane, close to two-thousand kilometers away. So, there was no reason for protection. She was perfectly safe enough here on the station, surrounded by her family and all the staff—most of whom Julie considered to be family as well—and Daniella was taking this way too seriously.
Julie’s attention returned to the view outside the window. Steve’s orders chafed at her soul. She didn’t want to spend the rest of her life cooped up inside the lodge. Her booted foot again tapped agitatedly on the floorboards as she stared out at the billabong. A kingfisher swooped from a branch and skimmed across the water, catching an unsuspecting insect on the wing. It looked so inviting, and she longed to get outside, just for a while. Holy jeezes, she wasn’t going to let this stalker guy rule her life.
Ramming her Akubra on her head, she slipped on her sunglasses and put her hand on the door to the hallway, determined not to stay locked up inside on this beautiful day. If she snuck down the hallway, she could escape out the door at the other end of the building that led to the staff quarters. She would go down to the billabong and breathe in the fresh air. No one would miss her for half an hour. And she’d make sure to stay vigilant at the same time. But her stalker wasn’t going to travel all the way out to the middle of far North Queensland to follow some stupid obsession. It just wasn’t going to happen.
A helicopter had landed on the pad down near the long driveway a few minutes ago—probably bringing a new group of guests to stay at the lodge—and now she heard its blades getting louder as it lifted off again. The coast would be clear, as Daniella would be off making sure the new visitors were settled properly, and Steve would be up at the stables getting the horses ready for the ride this afternoon.
Pulling the door open, she swung out into the hallway.
And collided with a solid, male chest.
“Oh, God,” she squeaked, nearly losing her footing. A pair of strong arms came out to steady her.
She stared up into the face of a stranger.
The man stared back at her. One blue eye. One brown eye. A memory flickered. She’d known a man once with those same eyes.
No! It couldn’t be.
Aaron?
Aaron Powell?
She stepped backward as if he’d branded her with his touch, his name frozen on her tongue.
“Sorry, ma’am, I didn’t mean to scare you.”
Oh, God, that voice. Even deeper than she remembered. With a hint of a rasp that also hadn’t been there before. A familiar thrill ran through her, but she tamped it down and stared at him, speechless.
“Are you okay?” He stepped toward her, as if he meant to touch her again, concern etched deep into the frown lines on his forehead.
She retreated another two steps down the hallway. “Yep, I’m fine.” She wheezed the words out between locked vocal cords. Normally, she would have given him a breezy grin and laughed off the encounter, but her smile was frozen on her lips. “Pull yourself together,” she muttered under her breath.
“Are you sure?” That slightly bland, concerned look hadn’t left his face, and he peered at her as if trying to see through the tinted lenses of her sunglasses. A pair of mirrored sunglasses sat atop his own head, and Julie couldn’t help but notice how tall he’d gotten. And how his black T-shirt underneath his sports jacket stretched enticingly across very broad shoulders indeed. Big. He was definitely bigger than she remembered; she could see how muscular he’d become beneath that shirt. He towered over her. Her gaze caught for a second on a scar bisecting his left eyebrow, giving him a rather devil-may-care appearance. That hadn’t been there last time she’d seen him.
She nodded, but her mind was whirling with unanswered questions. Didn’t he recognize her?
“If you’re sure you’re not hurt, then perhaps you could point me in the direction of the meeting room, please?” His tone was formal and polite.
No, he clearly didn’t recognize her. What was he doing here? Was he a guest? Perhaps she should walk on by. Leave bygones to be bygones. If she merely indicated the meeting room—which was two doors down on the left—and went on her way, would he be none the wiser?
A sudden, fathomless anger began to boil deep down in her gut. Nope. Twelve years ago, he’d walked away from her without a word. Aaron Powell wasn’t getting away with it that easily this time.
She flicked off her hat and slowly drew down her sunglasses until he was looking directly into her eyes.
“Holy shit,” he whispered. “Julie?”
Oh yeah, he recognized her now, all right.
