‘Shh…’ Porter crouched beside her, on full alert, stern and lethal like the hunter he was.And silently pointed.
On the far side of the waterhole, stepping out from the brush like a ghost in a dream, was a large animal.
With its head bowed, it approached the edge of the waterhole, only to pause and look at her.
Amara gasped.
Porter straightened slowly.The tone said it all… ‘I think that belongs to you.’
In the low morning light, she rubbed her eyes to focus on the large beast.It wasn’t a cow, or a buffalo—but definitely a horse.‘Is it a brumby?’
‘Montrose, look again.’
That wasn’t a brumby, or a stockhorse, not with the build and stance of a pedigree horse, that was definitely worth more than her buried car.
‘It’s him… It’s Tempest.’Her voice cracked with both joy and disbelief.‘I thought I’d never see him again.’
Porter helped to steady her away from the water’s edge.‘You sure it’s him?’
‘I’d know that walk anywhere.’She knew the stance and the strong profile.After all, she’d studied him for hours every day, when they’d spent that first five days just getting to know each other in Porter’s paddocks, before she’d even put a saddle on his back.
The steel-grey stallion stood at the far edge of the waterhole, wary but not panicked.He looked at them as if waiting.Only to lower his head to drink.
She pushed on Porter’s bare shoulder.‘Quick.Go catch him.’
‘What, now?’
‘You’re the one with legs that still work.Go catch my horse.’
He looked down at himself.No rope.No bridle.His wet shirt was sitting on a rock, and all he had left was… ‘You want me to lasso a thoroughbred with a necktie?’
‘You’re a Territory cop.Improvise.’She grinned.The hope and happiness were a potent blend in their dire situation.‘Besides, he’s gentle—if you go slow.’
Porter muttered something under his breath about wild women and ridiculous animals, then peeled off the tie and wound it between his hands like holding a set of reins.
He approached carefully, with a soft voice and slow steps.‘Hey, mate.Where did you come from?A pretty boy in the wrong place… just like us.’
Tempest flicked his ears, but didn’t bolt.Porter inched closer—
‘Ooof!’He’d tripped and fell flat on his face in the mud.
Amara burst into laughter, her voice echoing across the waterhole that had the horse’s ears flickering in recognition.
But poor Porter pushed himself up, coated in mud and swearing.
Only for his expression to change as he dug around in the mud and pulled something free.
He wiped away the caked dirt from some long object.
There was a glint of metal, as he used the edge of the water to wash away the mud.It looked like a rifle.
‘What is it?’
‘Something someone wanted to hide.’And just like that, the man who’d carried her across the outback, the one she’d trusted with her secrets, was gone—replaced by the lawman underneath.
Thirty-three
‘Porter?’
