Beautiful Lies (40 page)

Panic rose inside her, swift and familiar. “Look, this is a bad idea.” She got to her feet and pulled her hand away.

He continued to sit. “Is it?”

“We're tired. I don't know what I'm doing.”

“I think you know exactly.”

“Okay, I know. Or I knew. But, Cullen, wanting you is
one thing, having you is another. My God, Matthew's missing, and we're sitting here reminiscing.”

“You know it's more than that.”

“Maybe. And maybe that's the problem.” She pushed her hair behind her ears with trembling hands. “Are you ready for this to start up again?”

“This?”

Her voice rose. “This. Us. Everything. We've almost forgiven each other. Could we ever do it again if things got out of hand? We're further ahead than I ever thought we could be. I don't want to destroy that.”

“What's life without risks, Lee? Can you say that keeping yourself safe all these years made you feel alive?”

“Keeping myself safe?”

“Isn't that what all your fears are about?”

“Maybe I don't feel alive, but I don't feel like I'm dangling from a precipice, either!”

“Is that how you feel with me?”

“That's how I felt. And you felt like I'd chained you and thrown away the key. We're no good for each other. Lord, didn't we learn anything?”

He stood, too. “I did. Here's what it was. Loving someone is not the same as climbing a mountain without safety gear. It's giving up some things and getting others in return. It's risk and heartache, but take it from a gambler, it's still worth taking a chance on.”

She could feel panic continuing to rise, as if Cullen was throwing open the door to a whole terrifying world she didn't know. “Well, not for me.”

He nodded, but the heat in his gaze turned cold as she watched. “All right, then.”

“I'm sorry.”

“I know.” He moved around her, careful not to touch her.

She didn't turn or follow him. “Please, we've still got to work together. For Matthew's sake.”

“Nothing will keep us from finding our son.” The door closed quietly behind him. For one long moment she stared at the table filled with food they had nearly shared. Then she swept her empty plate to the floor with a crash.

 

They flew out of Cairns at ten the next morning. Liana had avoided breakfast with Cullen, and they'd had only a brief conversation on the terrace when he announced their schedule. A morning flight to Darwin, then a friend of Cullen's would meet them in his plane and fly them directly to the station.

She hadn't really spoken to him until they were in the hotel van heading to the airport. “Did you get some rest?” she asked.

“Some. How about you?”

“I'm okay.”

“We've nearly caught up with him.”

Silently she thanked him for the reassurance. If he was angry after last night's about-face, he wasn't going to take it out on her. “What's the first thing you're going to say to him?”

“Words will fail me. I'm going to kiss him, then I'm going to shake him.”

“Words never fail you.”

He glanced at her, and he nearly smiled. “They did last night.”

She could feel herself blush. But it had been the perfect thing to say. She thought of all the times when his sense of humor had saved face for one of them. This, too, she had forced herself to forget.

She changed the subject. “Tell me about the plane to Jimiramira, so I'll know what to expect.”

“You know that fear of flying you claim to have?”

“Uh-huh.”

“This will bloody well kill or cure you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Tell me!”

“Small plane. You'll have to pedal to keep us airborne. I'll jump over the side when we get close to the ground, so John can land.”

“Cullen!”

“John's a stunt flyer. We'll have to remind him a time or two to fly right side up.”

“You're not going to be any help, are you?”

“You can't practice everything in advance, Lee. John's the best pilot I know. Do you think I'd trust your life to just anyone?”

She forgot about the plane. “You're not angry at me, are you?”

“Because we didn't want the same thing at the same moment?”

“It wasn't about wanting or not wanting.”

“I know what it was about.” He opened the newspaper he'd bought at the hotel to signal that the subject was closed.

The flight to Darwin was blessedly short. When she descended the metal stairway and walked across the tarmac with Cullen beside her, her legs were surprisingly steady.

“John's going to meet us inside.” Cullen checked his watch. “He's probably here already.”

She knew Cullen had tried to call Jimiramira that morning from their hotel, and again there had been no answer. “Are you going to phone your father and let him know we're coming?”

“I don't see the point now. I'd rather look him in the eye, wouldn't you? And if Matthew gets wind that we're on our way, he might take off again.”

“You don't really think so? Why would he? He got what he wanted. A trip to Australia. A chance to meet his grandfather.”

“That's what he told Simon. How do we know that's what this trip was really about? Have you forgotten the pearl?”

“I'm genetically programmed to remember it always.”

“Well, the bloody thing's in my genes, as well.”

“That means Matthew was born with a double dose.”

“Which might mean he has it with him, Lee.”

She had denied that possibility long enough. She had let her heart proclaim her son's innocence. But this was a boy who had lied, stolen and schemed to get this far, a boy with secrets. “He might have it,” she admitted. “But why? I can't think of any reasonable explanation.”

“Take ‘reasonable' out of the equation. If he has it, the reason is purely emotional. He's fallen prey to superstition.”

“I don't see…”

“He's bringing it back here to Australia. I'll bet he thinks it belongs at Jimiramira. That's what Mei was trying to tell us. Maybe she even put him up to it.”

Liana contemplated that as they moved off the field into the airport. It was a small enough building, with a colorful souvenir shop filled with Aboriginal art and T-shirts with wallabies and kangaroos bounding across them.

Cullen left her in the waiting area as he went to look for their pilot. Cairns, though beautiful, had resembled other tropical resorts, and it had been different enough from Broome and Pikuwa Creek that she hadn't felt the sting of past memories. But here, surrounded by both the commercial clutter and the twang of Australian accents, she could not pretend any longer. She had journeyed halfway across the earth again. Again, as she had once before. That time for love, and this time, too.

Had Matthew sat in this very airport, drinking in the culture she had denied him? Had he found a flight to Jimiramira from Darwin, or had he taken one directly from Sydney? When one alternative was closed, he always seemed to find another. His resilience was one of his finest traits. Had he used it to his advantage here?

Cullen came back. “John's out on the field waiting for us. Are you ready?”

She looked up at her ex-husband, the man she had sent from her room last night. The man she still wanted, despite a hair-raising past. “Let's go get Matthew, Cullen.”

He held out his hand.

 

The trip neither killed nor cured her. She was frightened, but not as much as she'd expected. The plane, a four-seater Cessna, rode every air current, soaring like an eagle. She found she could gaze at the ground below and make out riverbeds and tiny settlements. When Cullen realized her eyes were open, he pointed out the occasional sight.

“Lost my first bet on a horse race at that station.”

“You won a few, too, as I recall.”

“Too few.”

Actually, he had won many, but memories of the times when he'd been on a streak of good luck were something Cullen would battle for the rest of his life.

“Is your father a gambling man?” she asked.

“Dad likes to bet on the horses, but he knows when to stop. The only thing he's addicted to is Jimiramira.”

“What does it mean? Jimiramira.”

“It's a word used by the local Aboriginal people. It means big.”

“That's all?”

“Apparently there wasn't much poetry in Archer Llewel
lyn's soul. He wanted big. He got big, although there are properties in the Territory that are bigger.”

“Are you worried about seeing your father?”

“I should have done this a long time ago. He's not a young man. We have things we should say to each other.”

She searched his serious face and wondered what he was feeling. “Why didn't you come before this?” she asked gently.

“I wanted to set Southern Cross on its feet first. I didn't want Dad to think I was coming to him for help.”

“You wanted to prove something?”

“That, too, I suppose. But I wanted him to know I was coming back because I wanted to put things right, not because I wanted something. He paid off more than one of my debts when I was living at home. I didn't want him to have any fears he'd have to do it again.”

“He paid off your debts. Doesn't that show some affection for you, Cullen?”

“I always thought he did it because he didn't want me to drag down the station. He knew the men I owed money to. He couldn't risk his own reputation.”

She sat back. She couldn't dispute that, since Roman Llewellyn was a stranger to her. But it seemed sad that both she and Cullen had been blessed with heartless fathers. She hoped Roman was at least a kind enough person to take care of Matthew.

“It looks like we're coming in now,” Cullen said, leaning over to peer through the small window. He shouted up to John and had his suspicion confirmed. “Okay, Lee. Now we find out what's going on.”

“I pray to heaven Matthew's here.”

“Heaven would be the right address.”

The landing was unexpectedly smooth, even though the
station runway didn't resemble the one at the airport. There was no one to meet them, since no one had been notified they were coming. “We'll wait a few minutes,” Cullen told her. “I'm certain someone saw us land. But if they don't send a car, we'll walk. It's not far.”

She didn't know what she had expected. There had been cattle stations inland from Pikuwa Creek, but none she had visited. They had been minimally staffed, and the owners had lived in other places. The homesteads had been so far off the beaten path—which, in the case of Pikuwa Creek, hadn't been very beaten at all—that she had never even glimpsed them.

Jimiramira was both less and more than she had imagined. They had flown over a variety of buildings, and even from the airstrip she could see that they were well cared for and architecturally varied. A spot of green lawn identified the house, whose metal roof had gleamed from the air.

Emeralds and sterling, and the sapphire sweep of a limitless sky.

She had expected cattle and horses, working cowboys, perhaps, despite knowing that Australia had none of the rich grasslands of Texas. The land was more arid than she had envisioned. The Australia she had known so well, a country of craggy coastline and tropical foliage, did not exist here.

“What do you think?” Cullen asked.

“It has its own sort of beauty.” She waved away bush flies seeking sustenance. “How does it feel to be home?”

“Home is the house I shared with you.”

Her heart made a funny leap in her chest. “How does it feel to be here?”

“Odd.”

She let it go at that. Cullen had his own set of demons.

A dust cloud mushroomed on the horizon and drew consistently closer. “They've sent someone,” Cullen said. He went to talk to John, who was examining the airplane's nose. He was a quiet young man with a shy smile that had buoyed Liana's confidence immediately. Cullen returned as a battered station wagon pulled up next to the airstrip and the driver cut the motor. “John's making an adjustment. He's just going to stay here. I'll come back later and let him know what we're planning to do next.”

“An adjustment?”

“He's more comfortable with planes than with people. Fussing with the plane keeps him from having a yak when he doesn't want one.”

A gray-haired Aboriginal man got out of the wagon and approached them. Cullen smiled and held out his hand. “Luke. It's been a while.”

“Cullen.” Luke took Cullen's hand with a smile as warm and shy as John's.

“My dad here?” Cullen asked.

Luke shrugged, as if he couldn't say. “Winnie, she tell me to pick you up and bring you in.” He glanced at Liana and gave another smile. “Her, too.”

“That's what you should do, then.” Cullen hefted both their bags in one hand and followed Luke to the wagon. Liana followed him.

“Winnie?” Liana said.

“Probably the housekeeper.”

“No one you know?”

“When I was a boy, Dad couldn't keep a housekeeper.”

Luke spoke from the front. “She been with the boss now for a long time. Harry, her husband, he been with the boss long time, too.”

“What's Harry do?” Cullen asked.

“Harry, he's the manager.”

Cullen whistled softly. “Dad lets someone else manage the place?”

“Too right. The boss getting old. Just like me.”

Cullen sat back. “Luke here is the best stockman in the Territory,” he told Liana. “Nothing he can't do.”

“Those days gone,” Luke said cheerfully.

“Luke, I've rung Dad several times in the past day or so, and no one answered the telephone.”

“Bloody stupid machines, telephones.”

They pulled up in front of the house, and Liana registered details as she looked for Matthew. She had hoped that he would be waiting for them on the front porch. But nothing stirred in the early afternoon heat.