today?'
There was a short silence. Mal and Brett both looked at her. 'Just you,' said Mal, but there was an ominous note in his voice.
Copper glanced from one to the other, sensing that something was wrong. 'When's the new housekeeper coming, then?'
'What new housekeeper?' said Brett in surprise. 'You're the new housekeeper!'
She goggled at him. 'Me?'
Mal's brows had snapped together. 'Do you mean to tell us that you're not here to replace Kim?'
'Of course not!' said Copper indignantly. 'Do I look like a housekeeper?'
'Why do you think I was surprised to see you in a suit?' he retorted with a trace of weariness, and pinched the bridge of his nose. 'The agency in Brisbane said they were sending a new girl out from there nearly a week ago, so I just assumed that's who you were.'
'Well, that explains why you thought I should have come on the bus, anyway,' she said.
'It doesn't explain what you're doing here, though, does it?' There was a slight edge to Mal's words and Copper found herself sitting up straighter.
'I thought you'd had my father's letter,' she said, not very clearly.
A hint of impatience was beginning to crack Mal's imperturbable mask. 'What letter?'
'The letter he wrote you a couple of weeks ago, telling you that he'd had a heart attack and that I'd be coming up in his place.' Copper looked at him expectantly, but Mal was obviously none the wiser and only holding onto his temper with difficulty. 'Dan Copley? Copley Travel?' she hurried on, hoping to jog his memory. He might not remember what had happened seven years ago, but surely he could manage a matter of weeks? 'He was here two or three months ago. He came to talk to you about the possibility of using Birraminda as a site for the new tours we're planning.'
Recognition dawned at last in Mal's eyes. 'Oh, yes, I remember,' he said. 'But what's that got to do with you turning up here?'
'I've come to negotiate a deal with you, of course,' said Copper, surprised.
'Deal?' Mal brought his hand down flat on the table and leant forward. 'What deal?' he asked. He didn't raise his voice but something in his expression made her lean warily back into her chair. 'I never agreed to any deal!'
know.' Copper stiffened her spine. She had dealt with worse people than Mal Standish. 'But you did agree to let Dad come back when he had a viable financial plan. You said you'd be prepared to discuss terms if he could convince you then that the project would work.'
Rather to her relief, he sat back and the dangerous look faded from his face. 'I might have said that,' he admitted. 'But I can't say I ever thought he would put a plan together. The whole idea seemed mad to me!'
'It's not a mad idea,' said Copper coldly. 'It's an extremely good idea. Lots of people would like to experience the outback in style. They don't want to sit on buses or stay in hotels, but they don't necessarily want to crawl around in a tiny tent either. We're going to offer permanent safari tents with camp beds and a bathroom, as well as fine cooking and specialist leaders for the different groups-expert artists, ornithologists, people like that,' she finished, with an airy wave of the hand.
'It sounds good to me,' enthused Brett. 'Especially if they're prepared to pay pots of money for the privilege of getting squawked at by treefuls of cockatoos!'
'Well, money is certainly something we'd have to discuss,' said Copper carefully.
'Right now we're not going to discuss anything,' said Mal with an air of flat finality. 'I'm sorry that your father's been ill, but, frankly, you couldn't have picked a worse time. If I'd realised you were coming, I could have told you not to bother.'
'But my father wrote to you,' she protested. 'That's why I thought you were expecting me. You must have had the letter!'
'I may have.' He shrugged his indifference. 'There's been so much to do here recently, and things have been so chaotic since Kim left that any paperwork that's not absolutely urgent has just had to wait.'
Copper eyed him with growing resentment. It might not have been urgent to him, but if he'd bothered to read the letter he could have saved her a three-day drive from Adelaide!
'I'm here now,' she pointed out. 'Couldn't you at least listen to our proposals?'
'No,' said Mal flatly. 'I've got too many other things on my mind at the moment, especially since you're not anything useful like a housekeeper. I need one of those more than I need a crackpot scheme that sounds like nothing but trouble from start to finish. I've got no one to look after the house, I've got no one to look after my daughter and I've got no rain.' Picking up his hat, he got to his feet. 'What I have got is eighty thousand head of cattle, and a thousand of them are out there in the holding yards right now, so you'll have to excuse us.' He jerked his head towards the door. 'That 'us' includes you, Brett. We've still got work to do.'
Settling his hat on his head, Mal looked down at Copper. Her chin was set at a stubborn angle and the green eyes were mutinous. She was still seething over the way he had dismissed their cherished project. Her father had invested everything in the success of these tours. The whole future of Copley Travel was at stake and all Mal could say was that it sounded a crackpot scheme!
'You can stay tonight, of course,' he said to her. 'But I can tell you now that we won't be doing any discussing.'
Behind Mal's back, Brett gave Copper a sympathetic grin. 'I'm sure we'll be able to find something else to do,' he said meaningfully, and winked at her.
Mal's mouth tightened. 'Come on, Brett,' he snapped. 'We've wasted enough time today as it is.'
Charming! Copper glared after them. All those years of dreaming about Mal and what it would be like to meet him again, and all she turned out to be was a waste of his time!
In a way she was glad that he had been so objectionable. It made it much easier to ignore the way her heart had leapt at the sight of him, the treacherous way her body had responded to one brief smile. Now she really could put the past behind her.
Copper's eyes narrowed as she remembered how Mal had refused even to listen to her proposals. She had driven a file full of proposals all the way from Adelaide, and if he thought she was going to meekly turn around and go home tomorrow, he was very much mistaken!
Worry over the future of Copley Travel had almost killed her father, and the prospect of restoring their fortunes by investing in a project that would appeal to the quality end of the market was all that was keeping him going. The company had been Dan Copley's life, and the luxury outback tours a long-held dream. While he had been in hospital, Copper had taken over the project, working all hours of the day and night to get to the stage where they could confidently approach Matthew Standish again. And Mal had refused to listen just because he didn't have anyone to wash up for him!
Well, he would soon learn that Copper had no intention of taking no for an answer! If politely asking wouldn't make Mal listen, then she would have to find some other way of convincing him that she meant business!
When Mal came back, much later, Copper was sitting on the verandah outside the kitchen door, looking out over the creek. Megan sat beside her in a clean nightie, chattering about life on the station. Her face sparkled and her dusky curls had been brushed until they shone. 'There's Dad!' she interrupted herself suddenly, pointing, and Copper's heart promptly jumped to her throat, where it lodged, fluttering wildly in spite of all her stern attempts to subdue it.
Grateful for the fading light, she watched Mal walking towards them through the dusk. There was a lithe, unconscious grace about the way he moved, an ease and assurance in his stride that stirred something, in the pit of Copper's stomach. Megan was dancing barefoot at the top of the steps.
'Dad, Dad, we've got a surprise for you!'
Copper forced herself not to notice as Mal smiled down at his daughter and lifted her up into his arms.
'You've had a bath,' he said as Megan hugged her arms around his neck.
'Copper bathed me, and she sang a funny song.'
'Did she now?' Shifting Megan onto his hip, Mal looked over to where Copper sat in a low wicker chair. She had showered and changed into a sleeveless white shirt and narrow trousers. Her shiny brown hair was still wet, and her tilted lashes clung damply together, but she hoped she looked cool and comfortable and suitably dressed at last.
Tilting her chin in unconscious challenge, she looked back at him. 'You don't mind, do you?'
