‘Home to pick up where his grandfather left off?’ Rachel said doubtfully. ‘He doesn’t look like a businessman about to sponsor the ballet. He looks… tough.’
‘Like a warrior,’ Amy agreed, starting to enjoy herself. They were safely back in their cabin. Why not let herself wallow? ‘I was thinking that,’ she confessed, letting her mind meander over the man she’d just met. ‘That gorgeous, deep black hair, sun-bleached at the tips. All those muscles… And he’s weathered and so fit it’s scary. The bone structure of his face—it’s like it’s sculpted. It must be from years of living hard. And did you see the way his shirt strained? No shirt’s ever been built to accommodate that type of chest.’ She grinned at Rachel, enjoying startling her. ‘And those blue eyes with crinkles at the edges like he spends his time looking into the sun… Whew.’
‘You really did look at him,’ Rachel breathed, stunned.
‘Um… yep. There’s no harm in admiring beauty,’ she admitted. ‘A girl can admire—from a distance.’
Rachel’s smile widened. Maybe she was starting to enjoy herself as well.
‘I guess he’ll have spent his life looking into the sun through machine gun sights,’ she suggested. ‘That’d make anyone’s eyes crinkle.’
‘I bet you’re right,’ Amy agreed. ‘And field glasses. He’ll have stood in dugouts in the searing sun, field glasses trained for the enemy…’
‘Or on hilltops?’
‘I don’t think you look for the enemy on hilltops,’ Amy said doubtfully. ‘Wouldn’t you get shot? It’d be such a shame to shoot a body like that.’
‘It would,’ Rachel said definitely. ‘No one could shoot such a man. Did you see the muscles on his arms?’ Rachel was following on with relish. ‘Maybe that’s from hand-to-hand combat?’
‘With sumo wrestlers,’ Amy guessed. ‘I’d imagine he takes on ten every morning before breakfast.’
‘And now we’ve taken his steak,’ Rachel said mournfully. ‘Buster, how could you?’ She giggled and Amy thought wow, her sister was giggling. She giggled back and it was a gorgeous moment.
And then a camel hove into view. Another one, racing the train.
But only one?
In the dining car they’d been able to see out both sides of the train. Now, back in their tiny compartment, they could only see the right side of the train.
Rachel was looking out, entranced, at the lone camel and Amy couldn’t resist; she opened the door to the corridor to see if more camels were racing on the far side.
There were. Five of them.
‘Oh,’ Rachel breathed. ‘I wonder if Maudie’s seeing…’
‘Buster!’
And for one fatal moment they’d been distracted. For one moment they’d had the door wide open and had been staring in delight at camels.
And Buster, fourteen years old, sleeping out his days content to be with the people he loved and the occasional sunbeam, had just had rump steak for dinner—and he’d looked up and seen camels!
The camels were gaining on the train. They were stretching out away from the near windows.
And Buster, a tiny dog in spirit but a guard dog at heart, went flying along the corridor in pursuit, barking as if he were a hound in full cry.
No!
Amy flew along the corridor after him, her heart in her mouth. Luckily, the end of the carriage was the door through to the next car. He could go no further—but he was still barking.
No!
She reached him and scooped him up and tucked him under her sweater, just as compartment doors started to open.
‘A dog…’ An elderly man with a walking stick was staring in horror in both directions. ‘Did you see a dog? Who’s barking?’
‘It must have been outside the train,’ Amy said, beetling past him with her bulge held away. Praying his eyesight wasn’t good.
‘I heard a dog.’ It was a young mother. ‘I hate dogs. Our Polly’s allergic.’
‘I didn’t see a dog,’ Amy lied and bolted for their compartment.
‘Did you see a dog?’ the young woman demanded of Rachel, who was outside their compartment looking worried.
‘It was racing the camels,’ Rachel managed, trying to retreat as well. ‘I think it was a dingo.’
‘But it sounded like it was in the train,’ the woman said.
‘I think you should report it to the conductor.’
‘I need to go to bed,’ Rachel said, and retreated into the compartment after Amy.
She slammed the door, still giggling.
But Amy wasn’t giggling. That had been too close for comfort.
She knew it had been a really bad plan to bring Buster, but what choice did she have? Rachel had hugged Buster since she’d come home from hospital. Rachel’s life was hugging her dog and reading her textbooks.
The Ghan had been a dream they’d shared since they were children, to travel through the outback, to see their grandmother’s birthplace, to see the rocks Rachel loved.
It might just haul her out of her misery, Amy had thought, and it was starting to, but ooh, Buster-smuggling could cause complications. Rachel was giggling, but at what price?
‘She won’t go find the conductor,’ Rachel decreed. ‘She won’t leave those appalling children. I’ve met them in the bathroom and they’re awful.’
‘The other guy might.’
‘It doesn’t matter. Buster’s hidden now. He’s safe.’ Rachel looked fondly at Buster, who was peering innocently out from under Amy’s sweater. ‘What a good thing you wore that.’
‘It has its uses. But if anyone searches…’
‘They won’t. And they don’t need to come in here. It’s not like we’re in a classy cabin that has turn downs.’
They weren’t. They’d requested their beds stay up all the time—’as Rachel needs to rest’. No one needed to come near them.
And Rachel was smiling.
Okay, she could live with this.
‘Bed,’ Rachel said. ‘Buster can come under the covers with me. If anyone looks in, we’re fast asleep.’
‘I’d like a shower,’ Amy said doubtfully. ‘But I might wait for a few minutes, just to be sure.’
‘You do that,’ Rachel said and retired to her bunk, Buster with her.
Amy waited for half an hour, holding her breath the whole