Teacher, Caitlin Fitzgerald runs for her life, taking a position as a governess on a cattle station in outback Australia . In this vast, arid country, populated by tough men and women, Caitlin finds more loyal friends than in the big city she left behind. And the station engineer, Harry Phillips wants much more than friendship.
Jake Monterey, the aloof station owner, is another matter. He believes her ill-equipped to handle the outback. Determined to prove him wrong, Caitlin learns to defend herself, skills she will need if the danger left behind in Ireland follows her. The driver pulled Caitlin’s suitcase from the Greyhound tourist coach that had brought her up from Broome. He jumped back behind the wheel and drove off in a swirl of dust.
Excerpt: She looked around. She might well be the last person on the earth. The oppressive heat was far worse than anything she had imagined. Moving to a straggly gum tree nearby, she sat on her suitcase in the tiny circle of shade.
The mid-day sun bleached the sky to a silver haze, which shimmered, distorting everything in the distance. Pulling her hair free of its band, it settled like a damp towel on her neck. She put on her inadequate cotton sunhat, and began spreading sunscreen cream on any exposed bits of skin. She was sweating in her jeans—she’d have to change as soon as she arrived at the house.
Had she done the right thing coming here? She wanted so much to build a new life for herself, somewhere where she felt safe.
Down the road, another trail of dust rose. She gasped with relief the sight of another human being. The truck rattled as it drove around her in a tight arc, pulling up with a spray of pebbles and dirt.
The door flung open and a big man leapt out, grinning. “You’ve got to be Caitlin Fitzgerald.” He grabbed her case and threw it in the back beside a panting kelpie dog.
She climbed into the cab. It smelt of cow dung and smoke.
He nodded at her. “Harry’s the name. Harry Phillips. Gee, you’re going to have to be careful with that skin of yours. English, are you?” He set the truck in motion with a noisy grinding of the gears.
“Pleased to meet you, Harry.” Caitlin was conscious that her face was probably flushed and sweaty. “Irish, from Dublin actually.”
Harry might have been close to her age, but his skin was deeply tanned and laughter lines radiated from the corners of his hazel eyes. He wore khaki shorts and a sleeveless shirt that had seen better days, but his boots were polished until they gleamed like mirrors. He pushed his Akubra hat back off his face with a callused finger, and turned to look at her more than once as they sped along.
“That’s a great head of red hair you have, Caitlin. Do you have the temper to go with it?”
“I’ve been accused of being fiery on occasion,” she replied, anxious that he should watch the road.
“I’ll have to stay on the right side of you then,” he laughed, turning again to peer out through the dusty windscreen at the unchanging landscape. “What made you decide to come to the end of the earth to live?”
She paused. “Curiosity—I’ve read a lot about the Australian Outback and wanted to see it. How far to Tall Trees?”
“We’re already on it.”
“Did it start at that last gate?”
Harry gave a hearty guffaw. “Look to the horizon, east, west, north and south—all you can see is Tall Trees, and then some.”
She peered through the window, struggling to grasp the sheer size of the landscape. She’d always felt at home in a crowd. Here, there was nothing but earth and sky for miles and it made her feel a bit odd.
Not afraid exactly, that’s an emotion she was familiar with.
“Tall Trees seems an incongruous name to me,” she said.
“Do you mean it doesn’t fit?”
“Not many trees around here, tall or otherwise.”
“Wait till we get there. Can you see that hill in the distance?”
She leaned forward, rubbing ineffectually at the windscreen. “That’s where we’re heading?”
“Yep.”
Her mouth felt horribly dry. She’d had nothing to drink since the bottle of water bought at the last whistle-stop. “Does it ever rain here?”
“In the rainy season. When it does, look out.”
“It floods?” she said, with a strong note of disbelief in her voice.
Harry laughed. “If the river breaks its banks. You wait.”
Jake Monterey, the aloof station owner, is another matter. He believes her ill-equipped to handle the outback. Determined to prove him wrong, Caitlin learns to defend herself, skills she will need if the danger left behind in Ireland follows her.
The driver pulled Caitlin’s suitcase from the Greyhound tourist coach that had brought her up from Broome. He jumped back behind the wheel and drove off in a swirl of dust.
Excerpt: She looked around. She might well be the last person on the earth. The oppressive heat was far worse than anything she had imagined. Moving to a straggly gum tree nearby, she sat on her suitcase in the tiny circle of shade.
The mid-day sun bleached the sky to a silver haze, which shimmered, distorting everything in the distance. Pulling her hair free of its band, it settled like a damp towel on her neck. She put on her inadequate cotton sunhat, and began spreading sunscreen cream on any exposed bits of skin. She was sweating in her jeans—she’d have to change as soon as she arrived at the house.
Had she done the right thing coming here? She wanted so much to build a new life for herself, somewhere where she felt safe.
Down the road, another trail of dust rose. She gasped with relief the sight of another human being. The truck rattled as it drove around her in a tight arc, pulling up with a spray of pebbles and dirt.
The door flung open and a big man leapt out, grinning. “You’ve got to be Caitlin Fitzgerald.” He grabbed her case and threw it in the back beside a panting kelpie dog.
She climbed into the cab. It smelt of cow dung and smoke.
He nodded at her. “Harry’s the name. Harry Phillips. Gee, you’re going to have to be careful with that skin of yours. English, are you?” He set the truck in motion with a noisy grinding of the gears.
“Pleased to meet you, Harry.” Caitlin was conscious that her face was probably flushed and sweaty. “Irish, from Dublin actually.”
Harry might have been close to her age, but his skin was deeply tanned and laughter lines radiated from the corners of his hazel eyes. He wore khaki shorts and a sleeveless shirt that had seen better days, but his boots were polished until they gleamed like mirrors. He pushed his Akubra hat back off his face with a callused finger, and turned to look at her more than once as they sped along.
“That’s a great head of red hair you have, Caitlin. Do you have the temper to go with it?”
“I’ve been accused of being fiery on occasion,” she replied, anxious that he should watch the road.
“I’ll have to stay on the right side of you then,” he laughed, turning again to peer out through the dusty windscreen at the unchanging landscape. “What made you decide to come to the end of the earth to live?”
She paused. “Curiosity—I’ve read a lot about the Australian Outback and wanted to see it. How far to Tall Trees?”
“We’re already on it.”
“Did it start at that last gate?”
Harry gave a hearty guffaw. “Look to the horizon, east, west, north and south—all you can see is Tall Trees, and then some.”
She peered through the window, struggling to grasp the sheer size of the landscape. She’d always felt at home in a crowd. Here, there was nothing but earth and sky for miles and it made her feel a bit odd.
Not afraid exactly, that’s an emotion she was familiar with.
“Tall Trees seems an incongruous name to me,” she said.
“Do you mean it doesn’t fit?”
“Not many trees around here, tall or otherwise.”
“Wait till we get there. Can you see that hill in the distance?”
She leaned forward, rubbing ineffectually at the windscreen. “That’s where we’re heading?”
“Yep.”
Her mouth felt horribly dry. She’d had nothing to drink since the bottle of water bought at the last whistle-stop. “Does it ever rain here?”
“In the rainy season. When it does, look out.”
“It floods?” she said, with a strong note of disbelief in her voice.
Harry laughed. “If the river breaks its banks. You wait.”
Caitlin wasn’t at all sure she wanted to.