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"You're afraid of us both," he said. "So am I."
"
" I want you to go. "
"
" I have to stay."
She didn't ask how he knew. She didn't ask why. The fight drained out
of her. She felt his hands, hungry against her skin. She felt his
lips, aching for hers. And she knew that he had imprisoned her with
his need for what she could give him.
He could not leave, and she could not make him go. Whoever he was, he
would remain at Waluwara until his drama had been played out. And she,
despite all her fears and misgivings, could do nothing but play her
part, too.
Chapter 9
q q I don't know whether to hope you're right or wrong: Mackenzie stood
with arms folded, gazing toward a group of men who were about to sink a
bore on the northeastern end of the run.
"Will it be such a personal victory for you if I've made a mistake?"
Patrick asked. He touched her chin, forcing her to turn.
When she didn't-and couldn't-answer, he shook his head and moved closer
to the site to watch the men begin.
Mackenzie didn't call him back, but his question nagged at her.
Patrick seemed to be able to read minds, heal injuries and envision the
future. Now Patrick claimed to be able to find water under the
earth.
Having been made aware of the urgent need for a new water supply on
this edge of the run where thirsty cattle were dying, Patrick had
ridden out with Harry one day the previous week to view the terrain. He
had agreed that Clint's chosen location for a bore would eventually be
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successful, but only at great cost. Then he had pointed to a distant
spot no one had considered and promised that water would be
128 Somewhere Octt There closer to the surface there. So much closer
that the station's share of the drilling could actually be found in the
budget.
Harry had convinced Clint that Patrick's choice was worth a try. With
financial assistance from the Water Resources
Branch of the Northern Territory government, drilling had been
scheduled.
Now, two weeks after Tiny's fall, Mackenzie wondered if this would be
another example of Patrick's baffling powers or a defeat that would
firmly anchor him to his humanity. The station needed this new water
supply. She didn't really want the bore to be a failure. But neither
did she want Patrick to be a success. " " They're about to commence
drilling. Are you going to stay and watch? " Clint asked, taking
Patrick's place beside her.
"I don't think so. I promised Edwina I'd help her get the guest rooms
ready for St. Carroll and his crew tonight."
"
" Afraid Patrick was wrong? "
She couldn't admit her ambivalence. She had not talked about Patrick's
gifts with her uncle. What was there to say? Taken case by case, day
by day, each incident could be explained She believed in intuition. She
had known people from the village, old men and women, who were so
attuned to the land and its rhythms that they could predict the future
They could foresee weather changes, droughts, floods.
She had known healers, people who had a special ability, a special
touch with the ill. She had known men like Dilly Dan, who seemed able
to tell what an animal was thinking.
And although she had never known a dowser, she had heard of men who
traveled the outback with crooked sticks or metal rods and claimed they
could find water. Her uncle had never used one, but she had heard that
the boss at nearby Silver Tree had been using a dowser to find water
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when the manganese deposit had been discovered there.
So what could she say? That she believed Patrick conversed with snakes
and brought back the dead? Which of them would look crazy then?
"Nothing to say?" Clint asked.
"I'm surprised you trusted him," Mackenzie said. "You've no proof
I>e's doing more than guessing."
"I reckon it's a good guess. I know the terrain. There's as much
chance of finding water there as there is anywhere."
"You never used a dowser before."
"I never had one living right at the station I've taken Patrick's
measure. A guess is a guess, a mistake, just that. But whether he's
right or not, I know he won't cheat me."
Mackenzie's gaze followed Patrick. He was talking to the men. As she
watched, he removed his hat and swept his hair off his forehead. In
that brief moment the sun glinted in the golden strands and his
attractions were even more potent.
She felt the impact of that attraction deep inside her, just as she
always did. She avoided being alone with Patrick now, avoided it so
well that they hadn't had a truly private conversation since Tiny's
fall. But every time she saw him , whether at close range or from a
distance, she felt a stronger pull.
"I might trust him," Clint said, "but that doesn't mean you should: '
She felt just as she had as a child when Clint had caught her leaving a
paddock gate unlatched. She turned to him and saw the only father she
had ever known. She saw concern on his face and something more
abstract. She searched for what it was before she spoke.
"You're bothered I'm grown up now, aren't you?"
He didn't answer. A muscle jumped in his jaw, but for once she didn't
heed the warning.
"You're afraid I'll leave."
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