‘It’s not normally that deep.Which is why I think Siri set us up.’
‘So, it’s not all my fault, then.Driving out here without the right equipment, no backup, no plan.I can just hear Finn’s lecture now.’
‘For good reason, Montrose.They care about you.’
‘The team—’
‘You don’t get it, do you?Teamout here is just another word forfamily.We’re a small but tight community in a part of the outback where we’re outnumbered by the cattle and crocodiles.Here, the wilderness is not only our greatest ally, but she’s also our biggest enemy, too.’He was mad now.
She’d done that.
She’d been the silly one.Pushing people away.Holding too tight with her need to have control, thinking all her rules would protect her.
Instead, she’d built her own personal prison.
‘I’m sorry,’ she murmured, the words thick in her throat.
‘Yeah.Me, too.’Porter stopped walking.‘So enough of this.’He crouched over, swiftly scooping her up, setting her down on a flat rock.
‘What are you doing?’Her hands gripped his shoulders to get her balance as the pain radiated up her leg, along with the heated throb in her ankle—all of it excruciating.She grimaced, biting her lip to not cry out.
‘You’re climbing on my back.’He loosened his necktie and rolled up the sleeves of his shirt, then wrapped the ripped coat around his waist.‘Let’s go.Hop on.’
‘But—’
‘We’ll never make it to the waterhole by sunrise at this pace.And by then, we’ll need water just to survive the next stretch.’
‘How far is the waterhole?’
‘Five clicks.From there, I know where the road leads.I’ve used it a few times hunting.’
‘Will that be the road home?’
‘It’s the closest wallaby track that heads for town.With luck, if we hit the waterhole by dawn, we can then hit that main road by mid-afternoon.Surely someone travelling back from the ball or doing a supply run will spot us.’
Amara glanced around.The scrub stretched out in every direction, flat and dry.No fences.No gates.Just endless bush.‘How big is Dixby Downs station?’
‘Big enough that you can walk for a day and not hit the boundary fence.’He sighed as he glanced around them, then up at the night sky.‘Most of it’ll be in open country.Which means—’
‘No shade,’ she finished for him.
Porter nodded.‘But it also means if Finn sends out a search party…’
‘Stone will be in the chopper.’The hope flickered inside.‘If it’s open country, we’ll be easy to spot.’
Porter gave a dry laugh.‘Not that easy, Montrose.We’ve got red dust, scrub, tree silhouettes, and the heat shimmer, all doing their best to grab their attention.’
‘Got any bright ideas how we can attract Stone’s attention in the air?’
Porter nodded at her ballgown, no longer pale blue but stained every shade of outback red.‘You’ve still got those diamantes on that thing.’
She squinted at him, pretty sure the dust had clogged up his brain.‘What?’
‘The sparkly bits.’He gestured at the filthy fabric effectively hiding her shoes and swollen ankle, like this was a perfectly normal conversation to have when stranded in the scrub while wearing a ballgown.
‘The light catches them.Even in low sun, they’ll flash like a mirror.’That grin of his surfaced again—lazy, lopsided—most of all it held hope.‘It might be the only thing that gets us seen.’
She stared at the crumpled mess of a dress.‘You want me to—what?Wave it around like a signal flag?’
