He didn’t know how to explain that there was a warmth about her that was much more appealing than efficiency. He might not be able to imagine her keeping an immaculately tidy house, but he could picture her holding a baby in her arms, offering unlimited tenderness and security and love.
A little too vividly, in fact.
Nat frowned and concentrated on his driving once more. ‘You’re a nice girl,’ he said gruffly. ‘The Grangers like you. You love the outback and you want to come back. Those are all good enough reasons as far as I’m concerned. And then, you need to go to London just when I do…’
‘You could almost say that we’re meant for each other!’ Prue finished for him cheerfully.
A tiny pause.
We’re meant for each other. Her words echoed in the silence between them, and she suddenly realised how easily Nat might have misinterpreted them.
‘I mean…job-wise,’ she added uncomfortably.
Nat flashed her an enigmatic look. ‘What else?’ he said in a dry voice.
Nobody could say that Mathison was a pretty town, but Prue loved the old hotel, with its wide, wooden verandahs, the great iron water-tanks beside every house, and the pokey general store which had a weird and wonderful selection of goods and an eccentric taste in displays. Prue perked up as they drove along the wide street. She had hated the thought that she might never see it again, of returning to soulless supermarkets where everything was wrapped in layers of plastic.
Now, thanks to Nat, she could stop worrying about whether every trip would be her last and just enjoy being here. Oh, and do the shopping, of course.
Nat dropped her at the store while he went off to find some fuel. Prue still had her list, although it was so creased from being folded and unfolded so much that she could hardly read it. It was better than nothing, though. Wandering around the store, Prue found it harder to concentrate on the shopping than she would have thought. She had to keep stopping and peering at the tattered piece of paper, while her mind drifted back to Nat and the fantastic offer that he had made.
The more Prue thought about it, the better it seemed. There was no way she could miss Cleo’s wedding, but it had been hard not to resent the fact that she would have to leave Australia much earlier than she had originally intended. Now she would not only be a good sister, but she should also be able to spend another whole year here, and who knew what could happen in that time?
Prue could hardly believe her luck. Her momentary embarrassment had passed, and now all she could think about was how everything was turning out better than she would have believed possible. No wonder it was hard to concentrate on how much flour and sugar she needed!
She was coming back. Prue hugged the knowledge to her. Coming back to this place she loved so much.
And to Ross.
Prue’s heart melted when she thought about the daredevil blue of his eyes, about the way he threw his head back when he laughed and the air of suppressed energy he carried around with him, and happiness bubbled along her veins. Surely meeting Nat meant that she and Ross were destined for each other after all?
When Nat found her, Prue was gazing at a pyramid of tinned vegetables, her mouth curved in a dreamy smile. Her sunglasses were pushed on top of her head, drawing the tousled hair away from her face, and even in the dim old-fashioned light of the store Nat could see that her grey eyes were shining.
There had been a moment in the ute when something had tightened in the air between them, but whatever it had been it had gone now. Nat could tell just by the way Prue smiled when she saw him, a wide, open smile that said more clearly than words ever could that she might think of him as a friend, or an employer, but certainly not as a man.
Which was just as well, in the circumstances, Nat told himself.
‘You look happy,’ he said.
‘I am.’ Prue beamed at him. ‘I was just standing here, thinking about how miserable I was when I set out this afternoon. I was convinced that I would never have a chance to persuade Ross to love me, that I’d have to go home and never see him again. When that car ran out of fuel. I just sat there and bawled my eyes out,’ she confessed. ‘I was really pathetic! And then—’ she spread her hands ‘—you came along and suddenly everything is possible again.’
She looked at Nat with her frank eyes. ‘I feel as if today is going to prove to be the turning point of my whole life,’ she told him, ‘and it’s all thanks to you.’
Her face was alight with happiness, and Nat was suddenly aware of how close she was standing. She was so warm, he thought, so vibrant, so open and uncomplicated.
So in love with Ross Granger.
He stepped away from her, unsettled to realise that he didn’t want her thanks. ‘Are you ready?’ he asked curtly.
‘Yes, the boxes are by the door.’
Prue was puzzled and a little hurt by his brusqueness as they carried the boxes of groceries out to the ute. The light hit her like a blow as she stepped out of the shade of the verandah, and she couldn’t wait to hand over her box so that she could pull her sunglasses back down onto her nose.
Nat didn’t seem to notice at all. None of the men she had met wore sunglasses, relying on their hats to protect them from the glare instead, she supposed, but the corners of their eyes were always creased from years of squinting into the sun. Prue could see the fan of lines at the edge of Nat’s eyes now as he loaded the boxes into the back of the ute and covered them with a tarpaulin to keep out the dust.
Looking at those lines gave her a funny feeling inside—either that, or the sun was getting to her—and her gaze dropped to his mouth, which was set in a bleak line that made her frown slightly.
His expression was closed, shuttered even. Of course, Nat would be an unemotional man at the best of times, but he hadn’t been like this when they drove in together. She remembered how he had smiled, the look in his eyes when he had said, ‘I want someone like you.’
It was as if he had withdrawn into himself since then. As if, Prue thought slowly, her bubbling enthusiasm had made him retreat behind a barrier of impenetrable reserve. As if he didn’t like her being happy.
And why should he?
Prue felt a sickening wave of shame roll over her. She had forgotten what the trip to London was going to mean for Nat. For her, the job he had offered her meant the possibility of romance, a chance to achieve her heart’s desire. For him, it meant only the aftermath of tragedy.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said in a small voice as she got into the ute beside him.
Nat was bending to push the key into the ignition, but at her apology he straightened in surprise. ‘Sorry?’ he echoed blankly. ‘What for?’
‘I must sound absolutely heartless, wittering on about Ross and coming back to Australia when all you’re thinking about is your brother.’ Prue pulled the seatbelt around her and fastened it into place before turning contritely to Nat. ‘It’s going to be a terrible trip for you, I can see that. I wish you’d just told me to shut up,’ she said in a burst of honesty. ‘I feel awful now!’
Nat’s expression was rueful as he started the engine and pushed up the gearstick on the steering column. He hadn’t been thinking about Ed at all, he thought wryly. He had been thinking about her.
‘You mustn’t think like that,’ he said, contrite in his turn. ‘It’s the last thing Ed would have wanted, or Laura either come to that. They were both real live-wires, and they believed in deciding what you want and going for it.
‘They’d approve of you doing whatever you could to get back to Ross,’ he told Prue. ‘You don’t need to feel guilty about being