Claiming the Cattleman's Heart

DANIEL RENTON dived into the cool, glassy water of the Star River. His naked body slid down, down through the dark green silence till he reached the feathery grasses on the sandy river-bottom. Then with a short, swift kick he arced up again and saw, high above, the cloudless blue of the sky and the tapering trail of smoky green gum leaves. He broke the surface and struck out for the opposite bank, revelling in the cool, clean water rushing over his skin, between his bare thighs, between his fingers and toes, washing every inch of him. Cleansing. Cleansing. If only... Daniel swam powerfully, almost savagely, as he had every day since he'd returned a fortnight ago to Ironbark, his Outback Queensland cattle property. But he always demanded more from the sleepy river than it could possibly give him. Oh, the water rid him of the sweat and the dust and grime he'd acquired during a hot morning's work repairing fences, but it couldn't rid him of the rottenness that lived inside him. He doubted anything could free him from that. He might be out of jail at last, but the emotional taint of his shameful months of captivity clung to him with a tenacity that no amount of bathing could banish. Flipping onto his back, Daniel floated. The river was slow and he hardly drifted at all. It was always so wonderfully quiet here. The birds had retreated into midday silence and the treetops stood perfectly still. The river was as peaceful and silent as an empty church, and Daniel tried to relax, deliberately blanking out the heartbreak and anger and pain that hunkered deep inside him. If only the darkness could float away. He loosened the muscles in his shoulders, in his arms and legs. He closed his eyes. "Hello! Excuse me!" The voice, coming out of the silence, startled him. Splashing upright, Daniel trod water and looked back to the far bank. Against a backdrop of green and golden wattle, a figure in a floppy straw sunhat waved arms wildly, trying to catch his attention. "I'm sorry to bother you," a female voice called. Daniel groaned. And glared at her. Who on earth could she be? Hardly anyone in the district knew he'd come home. Still treading water, he shaded his eyes. The young woman was standing at the very edge of the water, leaning as far out as she dared and peering at him. Beneath her big floppy sunhat she wore a sleeveless white T-shirt that left her midriff bare and blue floral shorts and sandals. A woven straw bag hung from her shoulder. A tourist. Not a local. He didn't welcome any intrusion, but at least a stranger would be easier to deal with than someone who knew him. A local would be suspicious or curious, and Daniel wasn't ready to deal with either reaction. "What are you doing on my property?" he growled. "Car trouble, I'm afraid." Great.A city chick with car trouble. He released a deep, weary sigh. A million years ago he might have considered a young woman with a broken-down vehicle a pleasant diversion. But his days of trying to impress women were long gone. These days he just wanted--no, heneeded--to be left alone. A year and a half on a prison farm tended to do that to a man. It robbed him of do-good urges. It had almost robbed Daniel of the will to get out of bed in the morning. What was the point in trying? "I'm sorry, but can you help me?" She was leaning so far out over the water she looked as if she was about to dive in and swim to him. "Hang on!" It was a bark rather than a reply. This was a cattle property, not a bloody service station. But he struck out, swimming towards her in an easy freestyle. When he neared the shallows he stopped and stood in hip-deep water, his feet sinking into the weedy bottom. The stranger on the riverbank was well disguised by her huge straw hat, but he caught a glimpse of light-coloured hair tied back or tucked up somehow. Apart from the snug fit of her blue fHannay, Barbara is the author of 'Claiming the Cattleman's Heart ', published 2006 under ISBN 9780373039258 and ISBN 0373039255.