Above them, the stars stretched wide and endless.No moon.No town lights.Just the ancient outback sky, cold and clear, watching over them silently.
But the outback was never truly silent for long.She could hear it now—the low drone of insects, the flutter and screech of a fruit bat passing overhead, and the soft thuds of a wallaby or two making their way through the shrubbery.
And Porter breathing.Slow.Steady.
‘You saved my life,’ she whispered.
He didn’t answer right away.Just held her a little tighter.‘Yeah, well… you had me age ten years, Montrose.’
She tried to laugh.But it was more of a broken, breathless sound.Her throat was sandblasted-raw, as she wiped at her gritty eyes, trying to comprehend what had just happened.
The Ram was gone.Her car was bogged.And they were miles from town.In formal wear.With dust in their lungs and who knows what lay between them and Elsie Creek.
Amara sat upright, her dress surprisingly still intact, but coated red.‘We’ve got water, a torch, maybe a rope.That’s—’
‘Buried under the dust.’
Her eyes flared at the place where the car had been swallowed whole, leaving nothing but a silky-smooth layer of dust.Her phone was in there, her bag, everything.
Porter sat up beside her, rubbing the back of his neck.‘We’re in for a walk, Montrose.’
She sighed heavily, as she gazed up at the stars glittering silently like a captivated audience waiting to see if they’d pass this outback test.
Porter got to his feet and held out a hand, even if he was wincing with pain.‘Come on.I don’t want Siri coming back.Arsehole.’
She went to stand, but the pain in her ankle was the wake-up call she didn’t need.A sharp stabbing pain radiated through her right ankle, up her shin and calf, forcing her to fall.
Again, Porter was there to help her.‘What’s wrong?’
‘Ankle.Must have twisted it somehow.’And that ticked her off.She didn’t want to play some dumb damsel in distress, not when they had a hike ahead of them.
‘Let’s see?’Porter gently crouched down and pulled back the layers of her delicate ballgown to expose her ankle.‘You’re still wearing your shoes.’
‘If you’re going to make some smart-arse crack about being Cinderella losing her glass slipper—’
‘Not today, I’m not.’His long fingers were strong, yet tender.
‘Ow.’She squirmed.
‘Well, that confirms you’re not ready for a midnight hike across the country.The good news is, it’s not broken.’
‘You’re not leaving me here.’The fear hardly had time to settle from her last upheaval, and now it flared enough for her to grip his arm.She did not want to be left alone.
‘I’m not going anywhere without you, Montrose.’Porter removed his jacket and started ripping up the inner lining.
‘What are you doing?That’s Armani.’
‘So, fancy bandaging then.I’ll just work out a payment plan with Stone for the suit when we get back.’He used the inner lining to wrap her ankle tight.Then tapped her calf.‘Up you get.’
‘But—’
‘I’ll carry you for a bit.’His arms wrapped around her protectively until she got her balance.
Holding his arm, she tested the ankle with her weight.‘I can smell blood.’
Porter touched the back of his head and his fingers came away dark.‘Oh.That’s me.That arsehole clobbered me with the shovel while I was hooking the rope under your car.’He winced, swiping the blood on his trousers, then glared down the empty track full of nothing but dust and shadows.
Amara followed his gaze.‘Why would he do that?’
