Read Online The Cattle King's Mistress by Emma Darcy - Free Book Online

heard it would feel its underlying rhythm and be in harmony with it.
    It couldn’t be called a song. There was no melody. Yet the interplay of sounds touched some deep soul chord that suddenly reminded Miranda of what Nathan had said earlier about his life being bound up in this land—ancient land—where survival reduced everything to basic needs.
    She hadn’t comprehended the full context of what he was saying but she had a glimmering of it now... the stark simplicity of choices laid out by nature, a cycle to be followed...birth, growth, mating, reproducing, death...an endless replenishment as long as the earth kept feeding it.
    No romantic gloss.
    Just life as it really was, underneath all the trimmings that civilisation had manufactured to sweeten it.
    The playing ended on a long, deep, mournful note, which seemed to reverberate through Miranda, making her tingle in a shivery way. The Aboriginal man shouldered his didgeridoo. The group of six applauded, their enthusiastic clapping sounding totally wrong to Miranda, somehow trivialising an experience that should have been savoured in silence.
    She was frowning over it when Nathan turned to look at her, his eyes hard and cynical. “The performance not worth your applause?”
    She stared at him, feeling his contempt for the lack of understanding that connected what they’d just heard to a performance to be clapped. “Not everyone has your background, Nathan,” she excused.
    He raised an eyebrow. “You’re not going to show some mark of appreciation?”
    She struggled to express what she’d felt. “To me it was a communication, not a concert.”
    “Oh? And what did it communicate to you?”
    His eyes were a pitiless blue, scorning any sensitivity from her. His challenge was a deliberate ploy to confirm the place he’d put her in—a woman without soul, a woman who cared only for herself, disregarding the hurt she might give to others.
    Miranda’s gaze bored straight back at him, resentment goading her into flouting his superficial and insulting reading of her character. “It gave me an insight into your life. And the life of those who have inhabited this land. How it must have always demanded they be attuned to its heartbeat.”
    Her reply visibly jolted him. His chin butted up as though hit by a punch of disbelief. His eyes flared as though she’d done serious violence to his feelings. For a few nerve-shaking moments, she felt caught in a fiercely questing force that tore at everything she was. Then just as suddenly it was withdrawn, Nathan turning away and walking on.
    Denial? Frustration?
    Feeling as though she’d been pulped and tossed aside, Miranda had to recollect herself again before following. The deep drifts of sand made walking heavy going, but clearly the cavern was their destination so there wasn’t far to go now, and at least she wouldn’t be alone with Nathan here.
    Having consoled herself with this thought, she was dismayed to see the group of six getting to their feet and gathering up their bags. They trailed after the Aboriginal man who was skirting the pool and heading towards her and Nathan. Then she realised he was dressed in a tour guide uniform and had obviously been hired by these people to give them the benefit of his specialised knowledge.
    “G’day, Nathan,” he greeted familiarly, his face wreathed in a welcoming grin.
    “G’day to you, Albert,” came the warm reply, a tone of voice Miranda hadn’t heard for some time. “You’ll be haunting the tourists if you keep laying that on them.”
    The Aboriginal laughed as though it was a great joke. He patted his didgeridoo. “Only calling up good spirits.” He flicked a twinkling glance at Miranda before adding, “Maybe you need them.”
    “Maybe I do,” Nathan said with a nod of appreciation. “This is Miranda Wade. She’s taken over management of Tommy’s resort. Albert’s a tribal elder around these parts, Miranda.”
    She offered her hand. “Thank you for playing.