‘It’s a nice thought,’ he said drily, reluctant amusement bracketing his mouth again. ‘But you don’t know anything about running a property like this. How did you propose solving any problems that you might find?’
Darcy didn’t like the way that lurking smile made her heart miss a beat. ‘I’m very adaptable,’ she said loftily, trying to ignore it.
‘Irresponsible is the word that springs to my mind,’ said Cooper. Darcy thought he sounded just like her father.
‘I am not irresponsible!’
‘How else would you describe turning up here out of the blue?’ he asked. ‘Why didn’t you let me know you were coming?’
‘How could I do that when I didn’t even know you existed?’
‘You could have thought to let someone know you were coming,’ he said with a gesture of impatience. ‘Or did you just assume that there would be someone at the homestead, the same way you assumed that Bindaburra would be round the next bend?’
This was pretty close to the mark, but Darcy had no intention of admitting it. ‘I remember Uncle Bill talking about the men who worked for him, and I thought they’d be there. Surely they won’t have left already?’
‘No, but it so happens that they’re working at one of the out-stations this week.’
‘What, all of them?’
‘There are only three at this time of year, but yes, all of them.’
‘But isn’t there anyone at the house? A cook, a housekeeper or somebody?’
‘The housekeeper left last week, and I haven’t got round to replacing her yet. I wasn’t planning on coming back myself, but if the rain keeps up like this all the creeks will be up, and I didn’t want to be stuck on the other side.’ He glanced at Darcy’s mutinous face. ‘If I’d decided to come back earlier, or not at all, you could have been stuck out here for a week before anyone else came along. You don’t know how lucky you are.’
‘How come I don’t feel very lucky?’ grumbled Darcy who was tired of men telling her how irresponsible she was. ‘It’s taken me two days to get here from Adelaide, most of it along roads that don’t seem to be much more than muddy swamps. I’m cold and I’m tired and I’m wet, and I’ve had to trudge for miles along this rotten track and I’ve ruined these shoes,’ she added, recalling another grievance. ‘They were my favourites too!’
‘You’re pretty lucky if ruining your shoes is the worst thing you can find to complain about,’ said Cooper with a complete lack of sympathy, starting the engine and swinging the ute round through the mud so suddenly that Darcy had to catch hold of the dashboard to steady herself.
‘Where are you going?’ she asked in some alarm.
‘You don’t want to sit here all night, do you? We’re going to get your car. If we don’t go now, the creeks will all be up and we’ll both be stuck here.’
Darcy supposed she ought to be glad he wasn’t intending to leave her there as he obviously wanted to, but the thought of wallowing around in the mud trying to extricate the car and then negotiate another thirty kilometres made her feel quite exhausted.
Fortunately, the creek had risen so dramatically since she had picked her way across it earlier that Cooper decided that they couldn’t afford to waste time towing out the car.
‘We’ll just collect your things and go,’ he said, peering out of his window at the water level as they bumped slowly across the creek bed.
‘Does it always rise this fast?’ asked Darcy nervously, taken aback by the power of the water swirling around the wheels.
‘It does when it rains like this. There are another five creeks between here and Bindaburra, too, so the sooner we cross them the better.’
The car sat where she had left it, ploughed into a deep trough of mud. In spite of her relief at not having to drive any further, Darcy eyed it doubtfully. ‘Do you think it will be all right just to leave it here?’
‘If it carries on raining like this, no one’s going to be along to steal it, if that’s what you’re worried about,’ said Cooper, looking resigned as Darcy put up her banana umbrella fastidiously before slithering through the mud to unlock the car. ‘No one would want a car like this, anyway,’ he added, and gave one of the tyres a disparaging kick. ‘This kind of thing is worse than useless out here. It’s a miracle you didn’t get bogged before this. Why didn’t you hire a four-wheel drive?’
‘I couldn’t afford it,’ she said simply, opening the boot to reveal a suitcase and a bulging stuff bag.
Cooper lifted out the suitcase. ‘You seem to have been able to afford a flight to Australia at short notice,’ he pointed out.
‘My father lent me the money for the ticket,’ Darcy confessed. ‘I didn’t know how long it would take to get here from Adelaide, so I had to hire a car, but I thought I should get the cheapest in case I couldn’t take it back after a few days.’ She hoisted out the stuff bag and banged the boot shut. ‘It’s just as well I did! I didn’t realise it would take two days just to get here!’
‘There seem to be a lot of things you didn’t realise about Bindaburra,’ said Cooper unpleasantly, tossing the case into the open back of the ute.
Darcy peered in after it. ‘It’s going to get a bit wet like that, isn’t it?’
‘Not as wet as we’re going to be if we don’t get moving,’ he said, but she was reluctant to give up on her case that easily.
‘Isn’t there room inside?’
‘Not unless you’d like to have it on your lap,’ said Cooper impatiently.
‘My clothes are going to be sodden,’ Darcy complained. ‘Couldn’t we cover it with something?’
Muttering under his breath, Cooper unearthed a grubby tarpaulin from beneath the clutter of tools, jerricans and ropes and threw it over the case. ‘There! Happy now?’
‘I suppose so,’ said Darcy, gloomily contemplating a case full of damp clothes.
‘In that case, will you please shut up and get in? If the creeks keep rising, your wet clothes are going to be the least of our problems!’
In the event, they made it across all the creeks—but only just. Each one was deeper and more alarming, until the water in the last was swirling over Darcy’s feet. She swallowed. The car she had hired would never have got through, and she would have been in real trouble if she had been stuck in the middle of the creek. Perhaps she ought to be a little more grateful that Cooper had come along after all.
It was completely dark by the time they arrived at Bindaburra homestead, and Darcy was too relieved at having reached it safely to be disappointed that she couldn’t see more of the house. She had a confused impression of a long, low house with a deep veranda before Cooper led her down a dim corridor lit by a single naked electric light bulb and opened a door. ‘This is where the last housekeeper slept, so it shouldn’t be in too bad a state,’ he said, dumping her cases inside. ‘I’ll find you some sheets, and I presume you’d like a shower, but then we’d better talk.’
He made it sound rather ominous. Left alone, Darcy sat rather uncertainly on the bed and looked around her. It was a plain room, with spartan, old-fashioned furnishings and that indefinable smell of emptiness. Suddenly she felt rather forlorn. She had imagined a bright, welcoming house bathed in bright sunshine, not rain and gloom and a hostile partner. She should have listened to her father and stayed at home, she thought glumly.
She felt better after a shower.