Love’s Conquest

By June Monks

© copyright 2001 by June Ann Monks
cover art by Amber Moone
ISBN 1-58608-313-9
New Concepts Publishing
4729 Humphreys Rd.
Lake Park, GA 31636
www.newconceptspublishing.com

Chapter One

DAMNED COWBOY! Belinda closed her eyes against the tall distant figure. She took a deep breath. What was wrong with her? What right had she to make judgments and label people?

Guilt and anger flooded her system. It was like being stalked by her shadow, and a deep sigh shuddered through her small frame. Wherever she went, whatever she did, her screwed-up emotions loomed over her shoulder.

Her hands curled into fists as she fought to calm herself. The man was close now, the sunlight glinting from the metal bucket swinging from one arm. A battered akubra protected his head, effectively disguising his age and appearance.

She stood at the fence shading her eyes as her conscience kicked in to counter balance her hasty judgment. She grimaced. Not only was he unlikely to fit the tag of cowboy but with the high technology used on dairy farms these days he probably had a University Degree.

In seconds the blurred image would evolve from a shadowy person to someone Belinda would have to confront and communicate with and she knew a moment's panic. She should never have come here. Never have answered that advertisement. It was too late now. Far too late.

The man hitched the bucket on the gatepost and opened the heavy iron gate separating the

farm from the house. The sleeves had been roughly cut from his faded checked shirt, allowing muscular tanned arms freedom of movement as they swung shut the heavy gate.

Belinda swallowed uncomfortably. She had progressed from brown muscular arms to the matching legs. Long, strong, and tanned, the light covering of dark hair gleaming in the sunlight, they made a pair of cut off jeans look like the fashion statement of the decade. She drew in a quick breath. Some cowboy.

He unhooked the bucket and glanced in her direction. The face under the hat was tanned, and dominated by a pair of intelligent green eyes. The metal bucket clattered to the ground as he dropped it by the steps of the old farmhouse.

He turned his head slightly, his eyes narrowing as they raked over Belinda's red sport's car parked under the old gum tree. Slowly, his gaze moved from the car and came to rest on her, swinging first to her thick, dark hair.

She put up a nervous hand and smoothed back a stray curl that had escaped the tightly coiled knot at the nape of her neck.

His eyes followed the gesture, targeting her blue eyes with a look of cynicism.

She thrust her chin forward as his glance dropped down slowly, pausing for the merest second on her bust line. She felt her cheeks flush with the embarrassment that a top-heavy small frame always engendered. A tiny waist and slim hips didn't, in her eyes anyway, compensate for the generous bosom that nature had bestowed on her.

What was his problem? He was looking at her as if she were some alien life form. She fought off the familiar feelings of inadequacy, and as his eyes came into line with hers she pinned a smile on her face.

"I'm Belinda Cavallaro," she said. "I have an appointment with Thomas Fletcher, the Director of Camp Conquest."

"I'm Tam Fletcher." His voice was deep and well modulated and light-years away from a cowboy drawl.

She fought to stop the shock from registering on her face. Nick's words slid into her head. "Your face is like an open book, Lindy. You'd never make a spy."

Apparently, Tam Fletcher agreed with him. "If I'm not quite what you were expecting, Mrs. Cavallaro, then I would have to admit that you, too, are something of a shock."

"In what way?" she asked quickly. He wouldn't have invited her for an interview without reading her profile. She had listed her qualifications and experience. She bit down on her bottom lip as she thought of the facts she had chosen to exclude.

"You omitted your age on your C.V. and I doubt now that I've met you, that you did that accidentally." There was a definite challenge in the green eyes and a hint of anger.

"I'm twenty four," she said, "and a fully qualified occupational therapist."

"And widowed." He made it sound as if Nick's death had been entirely her fault. And as if he had pressed all the right buttons, the feelings of guilt flooded through her again, leaving her with a familiar sensation of depression and despair.

"Yes." It was only a whisper and he looked at her almost impatiently.

He paused for a moment and then drew in a deep breath before he spoke. "I'm sorry."

He extended a hand toward the track leading away from the house, and in that brief moment she noticed his long fingers and well-kept nails. They were in direct contrast to the faded clothes, the thick socks and scuffed boots.

"Let's walk a little," he said. "You can tell me why you're willing to come to Queensland's Sunshine Coast hinterland and work at Camp Conquest. If, of course, I decide that you will make a suitable member of the team."

Resentment flared. Belinda felt like telling him that he wasn't exactly in a great bargaining position. She'd read the article on Camp Conquest in a magazine put out by the Occupational Therapy Association. It was obvious that the members of his 'team' were required to have impeccable qualifications and a desire for very little remuneration.

She looked rather pointedly around at the empty landscape. Not entirely empty if you counted the contented dairy herd dotting the green pasture. "I have a lot of competition for the position?" she inquired softly.

"A lack of contenders won't force me to employ someone incompetent." He began to walk down a track, pausing a moment, as she hesitated.

She had no option but to follow and immediately regretted her choice of shoes. Elegant, Italian black suede court shoes looked great as an accessory to her red linen dress, but were totally unsuitable for walking on the rough ground. Every vestige of composure and confidence evaporated. She should have worn jeans and flat shoes.

"I'm not incompetent," she fired at him as she matched his long easy strides with several staccato steps of her own.

"No. Your qualifications and limited experience seem to be first class, but I expected someone older." He stretched out an arm and hauled her quickly out of the path of the cowpat her shoe was poised over.

They came to a halt beside a wire fence under the shade of a small tree. He relinquished his hold on her arm apparently satisfied that they had entered a disaster free zone. "How long were you married?"

The question took her by surprise. "Two..." She took a deep shuddering breath. "I was only married for two..." Her voice broke and he put a hand on her arm again.

"Two years is not long," he said, his voice deep with sympathy.

Her head jerked toward him, her face shocked.

"I'm not unsympathetic to your situation," he said, letting his hand fall to his side. "I realize how traumatic it is to lose someone you love."

Did he? He sounded as if he did, and Belinda's intention to correct his misconception about the length of her marriage fled from her mind as she wondered whom he had lost. She could understand how he had come to the conclusion that she'd been married for two years. How many people lost their partner a bare two hours after their marriage? Before they'd even begun their honeymoon.

"How did your husband die?" His deep voice was devoid of expression, containing none of the ghoulish curiosity that had often accompanied that question in the past.

He wasn't asking for all the lurid details, she knew that, but her mind had already begun an automatic replay of the accident. A vivid yellow car, the weird emblem on the side highlighted in the sunshine, straying onto their side of the road, and then an immediate correction. Too late. Nick had lost concentration. The tree hurtled toward them as they left the road.

Her eyes were jammed shut as she reined in her stampeding thoughts. Slowly she opened them, speaking softly. "He was killed in a car accident, twelve months ago."

He stood without speaking for a minute, his eyes on the distant landscape. "You haven't worked for that twelve months." It was a statement rather than a question.

"No." She'd been a fool to think that he'd welcome her with open arms. Obviously, he had serious reservations about employing her. "During the past few months I've been doing some volunteer work at a rehabilitation center in Rockhampton."

"Volunteer work." He made the words sound like an insult. He glanced again toward her car and his eyes drifted over her dress. Silently Belinda fumed. Designer label dresses and late model sports cars might be a crime in his book, but she didn't doubt that he was astute enough to realize that only someone in the financial category that allowed those luxuries, could give up a well-paid job to work for a pittance.

"You didn't consider going back to hospital work, which is what I understand you'd been involved in before your marriage?"

"That wasn't possible." Belinda felt her spirits plummeting. She had wanted this job so much, to work with children again, and perhaps in the climate of rehabilitation, her own rebuilding would take place, but not, apparently, if Tam Fletcher had anything to do with it.

She wondered about his background. The article she'd read had concentrated on the Camp, which was to be set up on a working dairy farm, giving children recovering from life threatening illness a chance to regain both mental and physical stability.

His name had featured as benefactor and director. If his qualifications had been mentioned, they hadn't registered at the time because the idea of applying to work with him had barely taken shape.

"Why wasn't it possible?" he asked, and as Belinda dragged her thoughts back to the present, he looked at her impatiently. "Returning to a demanding occupation might have been difficult under the circumstances," he said, "but it would have been good therapy. Grief doesn't abate if you constantly feed it by wallowing in misery."

Her head snapped up, as she challenged him. He was tall. Very tall. Even in shoes she was a good twelve inches shorter than he was, but she wasn't having any man tell her how she felt and how to cope with those feelings. Not any more.

"At the time no hospital existed that would employ someone with two broken arms and concussion," she snapped. "Wallowing in grief wasn't an option, I was too busy trying to recover my memory and the use of my arms."

He gave her a wry smile. "Touché. I apologize for my hasty judgment." He took her arm and led her away from the shade of the tree. "Perhaps we could start again. Come up to the house and we'll have a cup of tea on the verandah."

He didn't retain his hold on her arm but he did lessen his naturally long stride to keep pace with her. She kept a wary eye out for cowpats. As they reached the old homestead, he stepped back to allow her to walk up the steps ahead of him.

"The house has been renovated inside to be used by the people working here." He gave her a crooked smile. "More of a refuge, really."

Belinda raised dark eyebrows. "Children can be exhausting, but I hadn't anticipated needing a bolt hole."

"Believe me, after a few nights in their exclusive company you'll need some form of sanctuary."

"Nights! You mean we have to share their accommodation?" She choked back a gasp of dismay. Being an only child had meant that her privacy had never been under threat before, and the thought of being involved in a regular bedtime skirmish filled her with disquiet.

"Not in the strictest sense. You'll have a cabin to yourself, but it will be set among a group of cabins, and you'll have to supervise the bedding down of the children in that group and be available if there are any problems."

"Isn't there some risk involved in allowing children to have the cabins to themselves, even in a small group?" Her brow furrowed as she worried at the unfamiliar problems.

He shook his head slightly. "Make up your mind, Belinda." Her eyes widened at the use of her Christian name. It sounded good spoken in his deep attractive voice. "You can't have it both ways. Your expression left no doubt as to the appeal sharing a cabin would have, and as I see it, the way the camp is set up is like a series of bedrooms in a normal household."

He was right, she supposed. Parents didn't share their children's rooms, but they were on call if needed.

He gestured toward the end of the verandah and she followed him as he indicated the rows of huts beyond a belt of trees. "That's the camp itself. You can see the arrangement of the cabins. You won't be the only supervisor on the spot."

Did that mean that he would be sharing 'parent duty'? The thought had more appeal than she liked and she cleared her mind.

"It's a beautiful setting," she said softly. Recent rain had painted the countryside in a patchwork of green. Vibrant bougain villas scrambled over the old wooden fences around the house and the grazing cattle decorated the vast lushness of the paddocks. "Do you think it will work?" She turned to face Tam Fletcher, forced to lean back slightly to meet his eyes.

"I intend to make it work," he said, his voice deepening, as his face took on the grim lines of determination.

"You must know a great deal about dairy farming," Belinda suggested, silently acknowledging that her frivolous label of cowboy had been way off target.

He didn't answer for a moment, letting his eyes wander over the whole vista of farm, cabins, and cattle, and then he said softly, "I was brought up on a dairy farm."

He looked as if he belonged and intuitively she knew that he did. "This dairy farm?" she asked.

"Yes." Her breath caught in her throat at the devastation his slow smile wreaked on her system. When it faded Belinda felt as if she'd had a tantalizing glimpse of something rare and wonderful.

A glow, a tiny spark of long forgotten happiness erupted somewhere inside, but before she could bask in its warmth, guilt doused it with the abruptness of a cold shower.

He continued, oblivious of her roller-coaster emotions. "My parents owned and operated this farm for all of their married lives. When they died within months of each other my brother took over the running of it. He made some very innovative changes including holiday packages for people who had a yen to try life on a farm."

With an effort, she concentrated on what he was saying.

"So the cabins were already in place?" She had a host of questions. Why the change to a recuperative center? Where was his brother? If his brother had run the farm, what did Tam Fletcher do?

"Some of them, but I've added several more, and a community center with equipment for rehabilitation and exercise." He waved an arm in the general direction of the camp. "If we come to an agreement I'll show you over the place."

Now they were back to the heart of the matter. She could feel his reluctance to take her into the scheme, and it hurt. She knew that she was good at her job, and being young could be an advantage with children. God knows she wasn't desperate for money. Nick had left her everything. More fuel for her guilt to feed on.

He turned, indicating two canvas chairs on the verandah. "If you’d like to sit down, I'll make some tea." He strode toward the entrance to the kitchen. Belinda glimpsed a gleam of copper utensils hanging from the ceiling as he entered the wide door, stretching out a long arm as he did so to hang his hat on a nearby peg.

The quiet ambiance of the place wrapped gently around her, soothing her turbulent emotions. She remembered thinking that Tam Fletcher seemed to belong here, and for a fleeting moment, she felt as if she'd found her own haven. But she didn't have the job, and he certainly wasn't convinced that she was a suitable contender. She frowned. She had to convince him.

"Dislike or determination?"

Belinda jumped as Tam put a loaded tray on the small table between them. His tone held a hint of amusement. "That's a fierce expression on your face."

"Determination," she said without hesitation. "I would really like to work here."

"For the children's sake or yours?" He glanced away from the task of pouring tea, his green eyes locking onto the intense blue depths of hers.

She bit back the gasp that almost betrayed her. He was too damned perceptive. He made it sound so selfish. She did have her own well being at heart. She was utterly fed up with feeling so low, but she did care about the children. She was prepared to immerse herself totally in their needs.

"I wouldn't be honest if I said my motives were entirely to work with the children." Desperately she pleaded her case. "I won't deny I'm trying to rebuild my life, but to do that I want... need... a new focal point. I'm prepared to submerge myself completely in helping the children toward recovery."

"And if it doesn't work?" he said. A touch of cynicism crept into his words. "Will you just up and leave, and go searching for a new focal point?"

"No! I'm not irresponsible." Only a coward, she thought. Too cowardly to walk away from the Tam Fletchers of this world, and therein lay her problem. She had allowed herself to be manipulated by her father and then Nick. Would she just become a pawn in Tam Fletcher's scheme of things? No! No! No! It would take time but she would rebuild her life in a new mold.

Tam was looking at her thoughtfully. "And the top of the range sports car and the designer dresses? The car might survive life in a barn but the picture one conjures up of you on a milking stool decked out in Anthea Crawford, is not a happy one."

She tossed her head. Insufferable snob. Inverted snob at that and obviously well versed in woman's apparel. A host of questions needled her. Did he read labels as he eased the garments off or did he buy his women designer clothes? She told herself she didn't give a damn as she pulled her thoughts back on track. "I do own jeans and I dare say I could swap my car with one of my father's."

"One of your father's." He nodded slowly, as if all his doubts were confirmed. "What does your father do?"

"He isn't being interviewed for the job." Her temper flared. She had learned to control it over the years, not wanting to emulate her excitable mother. She shivered involuntarily dredging up a memory of her mother hurling the family china in her father's direction. His evasive skills had become finely tuned over the years.

"Humor me."

She took a deep breath, the equivalent of counting to ten. "He's in real estate. In Rockhampton. Valentine and Associates." Nick had been one of the associates. Her father's protégé. Hand picked for the job, and for son-in-law.

For a few minutes he said nothing and then dismissing the importance of family background, he began to fire questions at her. "You did occupational therapy at Queensland University?"

"Yes." Behind the simple answer was a wealth of trauma. It had been one of the few victories she'd scored over her father. He had refused, at first, to allow her to leave home and stay at a college at the university. Her mother had proved to be a magnificent ally. Her father had been at the receiving end of a tirade that even he couldn't have anticipated, but it had been her mother's dogged withdrawal of privileges that had finally broken him down.

"Prior to your marriage you worked at St. John's Children's Hospital, in Rockhampton?"

"Yes." Nick had seen to that. Insisted that she work in Rockhampton. She had known him all her life. Gullible enough to think of him as a family friend. The ten-year age difference had precluded any thought, in her mind at least, that they would ever be more than that.

Her father had engineered it all, even to the 'course' that Nick undertook in Brisbane while she was at university. He'd always been there, and eventually she'd accepted the inevitable.

Tam asked her a few more questions, and then sat for a few minutes in silence. She held her breath, hoping.

He ran a hand through thick dark brown curls, still flattened from the akubra.

"We'll give it a try for a month," he suggested. "The anticipated stay of each child shouldn't be more than three or four weeks, so if we don't work well together, you could ease out of the situation without too much trauma."

Her breath hissed out in a long sigh. "Thank you." She smiled, her spirits rising above all her earlier adverse emotions.

They plummeted in seconds as he spoke again, almost thinking aloud.

"The fact that you are young could be an advantage. No doubt, the teenage girls will relate better to a younger woman, especially one who has been married. Find it easier to discuss their problems. A life threatening illness is bound to leave them emotionally unpredictable."

What could she say? He made it sound as if she was a young woman with a wealth of experience behind her, and as he continued musing over his decision; his words confirmed her suspicions.

"I'm sure that despite your youth, Belinda, you have developed the maturity and emotional stability that these children are going to need in their lives."

She didn't utter a word, as her guilt rose another notch or two up the gauge.

Chapter Two

There was really no comparison, Belinda decided, as her small hands guided the Holden Statesman around the bends of the Blackall Range. Her lips twisted into a grin as she thought of her father's bulky frame squeezed into her low-slung sports car. More than likely he would swap cars with her mother, who would enjoy creating a new image at her staid charity meetings.

Belinda thought about her many misgivings over the past two weeks. She hadn't enjoyed deceiving Tam Fletcher, but she doubted that even a two-year marriage would have given her the savoir faire to cope with the questions of pubescent youngsters. She hoped she wouldn't be put to the test.

She sighed as she came in sight of the farm. It wasn't as if she'd had the normal run-up to adulthood. Her father's rigid Italian upbringing hadn't allowed her much freedom, and no matter how she chose to look at it, her marriage had been arranged.

She by-passed the gray Land Rover parked under the gum tree and brought the Statesman to a halt in the shade of a machinery shed. The seat belt snickered back into place, as she stretched her stiff limbs and eased out of the car. The long drive from Rockhampton had taken its toll on the enthusiasm that had prodded her to leave early that morning, a day earlier than she was expected.

No doubt Saturday afternoon was the same as any other afternoon on a dairy farm, and Belinda smiled as she pictured her usual Saturday scenario.

A session in the kitchen to cook the Italian food enjoyed by her father's business associates was usually followed by a quick change of clothes and a concerted effort to add to the dinner conversation. If she became bored with that, there were always her mother's charity functions to attend, while her own friends went to the theater and parties. She checked her thoughts midstream. She was beginning to sound like Cinderella, and her parents had nothing in common with wicked stepmothers or ugly sisters.

Life on a farm would have some wonderful fringe benefits; Belinda decided, thrusting away the thought that Tam Fletcher could be one of them. She sighed. How could she be thinking like that? She was alive and Nick was dead.

The quiet and tranquillity enfolded her in a soft cloud, causing every footstep as she climbed to the verandah, to echo like a gunshot. She paused at the entrance to the kitchen doubting that anyone ever used the front door. She rapped lightly on the doorjamb with her knuckles.

"Hello. Anyone home?" The only reply was a resounding set of chimes from a grandfather clock.

Once Big Ben had faded she listened to the silence. There was a faint noise from the dairy, and as she walked the length of the verandah, she could see the cows being led in to be milked.

She wasn’t expected so if she wanted a welcoming committee she would have to go down to the dairy and announce her arrival. With a small, tanned hand she smoothed her jeans, unable to suppress a tiny smile. This time she was suitably dressed. Her silk blouse had a rural check and her feet were enclosed in short boots.

A cool breeze ruffled her hair as she strode toward the dairy. The sophisticated chignon had been abandoned for a French plait, with a blue ribbon woven in at the base. Quite the country girl, she thought, remembering to watch where she placed her feet.

Her small nose wrinkled in distaste. The smell was unfamiliar to her, the sound effects even more so. The whir of the milking machines was accompanied by the low moan of the cows, and voices reassured her that there were people about.

"I'll check this one for you, Jim." Tam Fletcher's deep sensuous voice stroked Belinda's emotions into life. A sexy voice like that was wasted on a herd of cows, but then they were female. No doubt his sensuous tones upped their milk production by the bucket load.

Belinda slid around the open door, taking in the scene of productive activity. A gnarled looking character straight out of Dad and Dave stood beside Tam Fletcher. Now there was a sight. Tam Fletcher hand-milking a cow. He sat astride a stool; head jammed into the animal's flank, and withdrew a steady stream of milk into a bucket.

"No sign of mastitis, Jim," he said. "She can be milked with the others from now on."

"I thought it was all done with machines." She certainly took Tam Fletcher by surprise but the old codger didn't look as if he could be shocked by anything short of an earthquake.

"Belongs to you?" he asked Tam, hitching his head toward Belinda.

"In a manner of speaking." Tam Fletcher stood up expertly avoiding the flick of an extremely suspect bovine tail. "I thought you were to arrive tomorrow."

"I... I wanted to familiarize myself with the farm and the layout before our first intake of children." Perhaps it had been a mistake. It wasn't exactly good manners to arrive unexpectedly.

"Such enthusiasm is to be commended," Tam said formally. He indicated the stool he had just vacated with a wave of his hand. "Be my guest."

Belinda looked at him blankly. "I don't under..."

"Familiarizing," he said smoothly. "A very good notion. You can start with Venus."

"Venus!" Some diary farm. Mr. Spock was probably lurking somewhere.

"Jim's keen on astronomy. Planets, that kind of thing. I doubt that this old girl resembles the Goddess of Love." He gave the cow a pat on her rump and she turned her head and gave a low moan that Belinda found quite daunting.

Gingerly she stretched out a manicured hand and patted the cow. It turned away, ignoring the gesture of goodwill and began nosing some feed on the floor in front of it.

Tam and Jim waited expectantly. What did they expect her to do? Deciding that she much preferred the front end she moved up to confront Venus again, eyeball to eyeball. Perhaps she could hypnotize the damn beast.

"This is the business end," Tam said indicating the place she had just vacated.

"I was just trying to make friends," Belinda said, as the wretched cow, still hell bent on consuming its rations, completely ignored her.

"She doesn't need a friend," Tam said, the faintest quiver in his normally strong voice. "She needs someone to milk her."

"You were doing that," Belinda said, a nasty premonition seeping through her bones.

"I'd like you to do it." It was a challenge and Belinda knew that she was on some sort of trial, and she wasn't going to fail. She bent down and the cow suddenly assumed mammoth proportions.

"Might help if you give her a crash course," Jim offered.

"Anyone can learn to milk a cow," Tam said. "It's one of the activities the children will learn while they're here."

"So teach me," Belinda said, looking directly into a pair of dancing green eyes.

"That will be my pleasure." His sexy voice gave the words a wealth of meaning.

And mine, that renegade inner voice of hers shouted. She felt the familiar guilt, but it seemed a little less virulent than usual. She couldn't forget Nick. She mustn't. They had planned on spending their lives together. But she fought down the resentment; her father and Nick had done all the planning.

"Sit on the stool." Tam Fletcher's practical tone cut short her thoughts. No doubt, he would be too strong a character to bow to guilt and feelings of inadequacy.

She sat. A great hairy expanse of cow towered over her. It was terrifying.

"Place your hand on her teats. Like this." He took her hands and gently showed her how to coax the milk from the udder. The cow shuddered and Belinda would have abandoned ship if Tam hadn't been crouched over her.

"Good," he said nodding his encouragement. He stood back and she felt a swell of confidence. A dribble of milk actually flowed into the bucket.

She moved slightly to get more comfortable and Venus decided she'd had enough. She was no guinea pig and with a well-aimed kick, she sent the stool and its occupant flying.

Belinda landed on her back at Jim's feet and skidded on the wet diary floor. Tam grabbed her and stood her on her feet.

"Sorry Belinda, that was my fault. I should have warned you."

She was speechless and wet. Jim grabbed the hose moving toward her. "I'm already soaked," she said through stiff lips.

"Yeah!" Jim agreed, "but not with water."

She twisted her head and looked over her shoulder, but her nose advanced the bad news.

"Oh!" she wailed. Jim doused her protests as he hosed her from head to foot.

"No worries lass. You're well and truly initiated into life on a dairy farm now."

"Is that what this was all about," she rounded on Tam. "Just think how much more satisfying it would have been if I'd been wearing an Anthea Crawford."

"It wasn't deliberate," he said quietly. "If it makes you feel any better it's happened to me."

She deliberated whether to smack his face or kick his shins, but that was exactly what he expected her to do. She turned away and said as calmly as she could.

"If it's all the same, I'll continue this lesson tomorrow. I'd like to clean up now."

Jim jerked his head toward the door. "Take the lass up to the house, I'll finish up here." His face was deadpan but Belinda caught the faintest glimmer of approval in the fierce brown eyes.

Tam's sudden response to the old farm-hand’s command surprised her and she wondered exactly who ran the farm. Her thoughts were cut short as Tam gripped her arm and a bolt of pain shot through her. Although she stifled a gasp he stopped, turning her to face him. "Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

"Only my pride's hurt, I wasn't expecting you to physically evict me." She took refuge in disdain, hoping he'd be deceived.

Her breath hissed out in relief as he bit back, "Hardly eviction. I was offering assistance, but if physical contact is a problem then allow me to show you the way to the nearest bathroom."

They walked back to the house in silence; while she wondered how much damage she had done to her recently broken arm. Gingerly she raised her arm pretending to smooth back her hair but the movement caused another flash of pain and she bit her lip and dropped her arm to her side. She sneaked a sideways glance but Tam Fletcher was looking moodily ahead.

What a wonderful beginning to this new episode in her life. So much for rebuilding her confidence and self-esteem.

It probably wasn't fair to blame Tam Fletcher, but she did. He had the ability to strip away her bravado, and lay bare all her emotions and she felt more vulnerable than she had felt in her life.

She stopped by the steps to remove her boots and had to sit down, fumbling the zip with her left hand.

"Let me do that." He brushed her hand away.

"My hands are slippery," she lied.

"And shaking," he added. "Are you feeling cold?"

"No. I'm just not used to being kicked around by cows."

He put out a hand to help her up, but she ignored it. The look he directed at her, said it all, but having him think she was sulking, or bad tempered, was preferable to having him realize she was starting her new job in less than pristine condition.

She followed him down the hall to a surprisingly modern bathroom. He opened the door and stood aside. "You should find everything you need there. While you're showering I'll retrieve your luggage from your car. Where are the keys?"

"In the car." As she padded into the bathroom in her wet socks, she paused and called to him from the doorway. "It's the dark green Statesman."

His caustic, "One of Daddy's, no doubt," floated back to her as she closed the bathroom door.

She undressed, stepped into the shower and turned on the brass taps, allowing the hot water to run over her now aching body and injured arm. She moved her arm gently. It was very stiff. Please let it be just bruising. It was a heartfelt prayer.

Memories of the lengthy treatment and months of immobilization were still raw. Her mouth pulled into a wry smile. Using her own skills in the process of rehabilitation, had given her an insight into the other side of the fence, but she doubted that Tam Fletcher would give her any Brownie Points for that. Shampooing her hair proved to be difficult and by the time she had untangled the French plaiting, and vigorously removed the unspeakable residue acquired from the dairy floor, she heard Tam returning with her suitcase.

"Are you still in there?" She had just draped a bath sheet around her small frame when the door opened.

"Do you mind?" she said, affronted at his cheek. "I could have been stark naked."

"Not a sight that I'm unaccustomed to," he said casually, leaving her with her mouth open.

Really! He was the limit. So he was a sexy hunk, and no doubt could challenge one of his prize bulls when it came to stud work, but he didn't have to brag about it.

He reached calmly into the shower recess and turned the taps back on. "You'll have to get back in there, you've left soap in your hair."

"What!" She turned toward the mirror, noticing with dismay the white suds contrasting sharply with her black hair.

"In you go." He whipped the towel away and with a yelp, she shot into the questionable privacy of the shower stall.

If there had been a suitable missile handy she'd have outgunned her mother and let him have it. Her sore arm would have been an impediment and as if he had read her thoughts, she heard him comment.

"When you're finished there, I'll take a look at that arm."

So much for her acting ability. He must have watched every move she'd made.

When she couldn't delay leaving the shower any longer, she cautiously stuck her head around the shower screen door. He'd gone. She breathed a sigh of relief.

Swathed in a towel she crept down the hallway peering into rooms. Her suitcase sat beside a double bed in an old fashioned bedroom and on the bed sat Tam Fletcher.

"There isn't an unlimited supply of hot water," he said.

"I hope I'm not in a position to require so much in future," she snapped. "I'd appreciate your leaving so that I can get dressed."

"Just put your underwear on for the time being. I want to examine your injured arm."

"What the hell are you?" she raged. "Some kind of a bush doctor."

He stood up to leave the room. "Broken or bruised arms certainly aren't my field of expertise," he agreed. "I'm a specialist physician actually."

The door closed behind him and Belinda stood immobilized with shock. Fool! She chastised herself. The well-kept hands, the neat haircut, his quietly confident bearing, and his assured, well modulated voice, were all the hallmarks of a professional person, used to decision making and working with people.

Of course, the camp would require someone medically qualified to supervise the children's recovery. And she'd thought he was the original country bumpkin.

What had he said? "Not a sight that I'm unaccustomed to."

She flew to her suitcase and hauled out some underwear. He'd be getting an eyeful, unaccustomed or not, if she didn't act quickly. She was struggling to do up her bra, when he walked into her room.

"Mission impossible, I should think," he said, calmly turning her around and doing up the hooks. He turned her back, but despite the inviting swell that curved above the lace and ribbon he appeared completely uninterested.

Gently he raised her arm, and when she winced he lowered it to her side, feeling and kneading with fingers like thistle down.

"Bruised," he said with confidence. "Not broken. I apologize for allowing this to happen. I guess I'm a better judge of people than cows."

"Are you?" she said. "I don't think your judgment of people is necessarily spot on."

"You think I've misjudged you? In what way?" His eyes challenged her, and she responded to the challenge.

"You think I'm spoiled, and pampered and intent on becoming a do-gooder."

"Something like that," he agreed. "I'm willing to be proved incorrect."

"My background and wealth are scarcely my fault," she said in defense.

"Nor are they conducive to roughing it on a dairy farm," he retorted.

"But you still gave me the job." There was more to it than her unsuitability, she felt certain of that.

"As you suggested applicants were a little thin on the ground."

He turned to leave the room, pausing in the doorway. "Do you need any help to put your clothes on?"

"No, of course not." Her cheeks warmed to bright pink as she remembered her state of undress.

For a moment his stern features were softened with his smile. She caught her breath. It was a rare transformation and he looked years younger, almost vulnerable. Someone she imagined he had once been, until cynicism and pragmatism, had taken root.

"For a health worker and a married woman, you're certainly a mass of inhibitions," he said. "I'm a doctor, for God's sake."

"I didn't realize that," she whispered.

"You should have," he said. "I've certainly made no attempt to hide the fact. I wouldn't be less than honest with you Belinda."

She bit her lip. No, he wouldn't, even if it meant telling her a few home truths, while she... She had certainly been less than honest with him.

Chapter Three

As she twisted in front of the mirror, Belinda felt satisfied with her selection. The eyes that stared back at her seemed to take on the soft lavender shades of her blouse, and the contrasting, soft cotton white slacks emphasized her slight figure.

Tam Fletcher was a big man. Not heavy. But his height and well-muscled frame gave him a dominance that she found both frightening and exciting at the same time.

He was dominating her thoughts, that was what he was doing. She turned away from the mirror savagely. She hadn't dressed with impressing him in her mind. Her teeth caught on her lower lip. She hadn't.

He'd slipped quietly from her room leaving her with a few wisps of lace for bodily protection. She sighed. There was no internal protection against the guilt she was feeling. Not just the deceit about the length of her marriage, but the fact that in real terms she hadn't really been married at all. Sure, she had the piece of paper, but what that piece of paper implied was all theoretical. Nick had been killed before she had taken part in the practical. Tam Fletcher was no fool, and he was already on the scent of her deceit, and when he found out he would not be pleased.

He didn't have to find out. Unless, of course, she completely muffed the 'birds and bees' sessions he was anticipating.

She whirled out of the room. What was she worrying about? He was the one with the medical qualifications. Her lip curled, and the practical know-how. He could do the safe-sex talks.

The clatter of metal guided her to the kitchen.

"What are you brewing?" she asked, as he set a large pan on the stove.

"Stir fry," he turned toward her. "If you're a vegetarian, I can leave the meat out."

"I'm not a vegetarian," she said. "My mother would have expired if I'd refused to eat her meat sauces. Can I help?"

"Not a chance." He abandoned the heavy pan, and delved into the freezer. "Sit in that rocking chair." He indicated a heavy well-padded rocker in the corner of the kitchen.

"Now look..." She wasn't about to imitate anybody's grandparent.

"Sit," he ordered, and then as an afterthought. "Please."

She stood her ground, until he turned her and propelled her toward the chair.

"Ice treatment for your arm," he explained, gently pushing her down into the chair. As he piled pillows under her arm, his spicy after-shave slammed her hormones into gear, and she gasped.

"I know it's cold," he said with a sympathetic smile, as he piled ice packs around her arm. What did he know? She felt red-hot.

"While those ice packs go to work on the bruising," he announced, "I'll cook the dinner. A steaming plate of stir-fry will thaw you out again."

She managed a weak smile. He was going to a great deal of trouble to warm her up, when the touch of his little finger would have her glowing like a light bulb.

She concentrated her thoughts on her bruised arm and the cold began to penetrate and dampen the tumultuous emotions that he had inadvertently triggered. He was a walking time bomb, and the fact that he appeared totally ignorant of the fact made him twice as dangerous.

Delicious smells wafted from the pan as he assembled his stir-fry. No recipe, she noted. He must have cooked the dish many times before.

As the cold permeated through her system she jammed her teeth together. It was bad enough being curled up in Granny's rocking chair without quivering like some octogenarian. Concentrate, she commanded, closing her eyes. When she opened them and glanced in his direction they almost bulged from their sockets.

Opening a bottle of wine was as commonplace an activity as one could find, but when Tam Fletcher did it, it assumed the magnitude of a mating ritual.

Belinda's eyes faithfully followed every move as the muscles flexed in a strong tanned arm. Lean fingers curled lovingly around the corkscrew as he manipulated it into the bottle. He began to pull. His brow creased as he felt the resistance. She watched his firm lips tighten as he imposed his will.

Her mouth curved as his frown deepened. He had met his match. She stifled a gasp. The wine bottle was unceremoniously placed between his knees. He grunted slightly as his legs gripped the bottle and he twisted the corkscrew.

Belinda held her breath, fighting a mental battle. Her blood surged in her veins. It was a wonder the ice pack didn't boil. She could feel the heat in her face. What the hell was the matter with her? Never, never in her life had she had such fantasies. Not about Nick. Not about anyone.

The sudden 'plop' as the corked flew from the bottle sounded like a mini-explosion.

"Stubborn one, that." Tam sagged against the bench in mock exhaustion. He turned and sloshed a good slug of wine into the pan and then poured two glasses.

"Here you are. You must be frozen solid." He placed the wine beside her and removed the ice packs. "I didn't mean to keep you in cold storage for so long."

Cold Storage. She felt as if she had just returned from Dante's inferno. The smile she turned in his direction was a poor effort and as he handed her the wine, she downed half the glass in one gulp.

"That's the ticket," he said. "Warm you up a bit."

In minutes he had two mats on the pine tabletop and some old fashioned silver cutlery in place. He made a mock bow and pulled her chair back. "Dinner is served, madam."

He was a complex character, she decided, clutching the empty crystal wineglass as she moved over to the table. She lowered herself onto the pine chair, stifling a gasp, when he slid it expertly in to the table.

"You did that as if you regularly waited on tables," she said with a hint of laughter.

"I did," he said. "Among a host of other money making ventures to help pay my way through university. Medicine is a long and expensive course and dairy farms aren't always profitable."

She didn't know what to say. Many of her friends had worked their way through University but money hadn't ever been a problem for her. Apart from the allowance her father had given her, she had only to express a wish for something and Nick had been there eager to buy it for her.

He leaned toward her and tilted her chin. "Don't look so guilty, the world's full of silver spooners."

She flushed. Is that how he thought of her? A wealthy man's spoiled daughter. No. He would see her as a wealthy man's widow. "I've never thrown money around," she said. It was true. Her father had started with nothing and he didn't encourage extravagance, but he did encourage quality and now he enjoyed his luxuries. And why not? He'd worked hard enough for them.

"I wasn't implying that you did." He took his hand away and moved over to the stove. The plate of steaming food he set before her smelt wonderful, but she'd lost her appetite. He was right when he said she was a mass of inhibitions. She couldn't throw off her cloak of guilt, and yet everything she'd done had been to please others.

"Can you manage?" He indicated her sore arm, as he took his place opposite her. "It's all in fairly small pieces."

"Yes. Of course." She picked up her fork and began to eat. Her thoughts were whirling around like a mini cyclone. Money couldn't be a problem for him now. The project he'd set up would be a real money pit, and she understood that he was the one providing it.

She placed her fork on the empty plate, looking at it with a small sense of shock. She'd eaten the entire helping.

"Have some more wine," he suggested, pouring the red liquid into her glass.

The fleeting thought that he might be trying to get her drunk was an unworthy one, she decided. Tam Fletcher and his kind did not need to resort to subterfuge to seduce a woman, and he'd made it more than clear that she didn't interest him.

The wine began to have a soporific effect and she stifled a yawn.

"Past your bedtime, Belinda." His eyes glittered, reminding her of green leaves sparkling in the aftermath of rain. Under the harsh glow of the utilitarian kitchen lights his dark hair had a sheen of auburn, and yet his skin was deeply tanned, not the pale or freckled symbol of the redhead. Everything about him was arresting, and she fought against the pull of an attraction that she wanted no part of.

"I've driven quite a distance, today," she offered, by way of excuse. She did want to go to her bedroom. Anywhere but where she was, sharing an intimate meal with Tam Fletcher.

He was too vibrant, too astute; everything about him put her system on alert.

He stood up, looking at her thoughtfully, "You've certainly covered some ground, today."

Belinda worried away at his comment, searching for a double meaning as he moved over to the large refrigerator and reached inside.

He turned back toward her manipulating the heavy door with his hip. "Dessert," he said, with a smile. "Once you've disposed of that you can make your escape."

Now she was sure there were hidden innuendoes. Escape. Of course she wanted to escape, and he was aware that she felt threatened.

A platter of fruit balanced on one hand and he held a jug of cream in the other. She watched in silence as he forked slivers of rockmelon, honeydew, and pawpaw onto a plate. The final result was quite decorative, although she doubted that he'd planned it that way.

"Cream?" he asked as he placed the shallow bowl of fruit before her and picked up the small jug.

"No, thank you."

The fruit tasted as delicious as it looked, and she was thankful that her refusal to have cream didn't draw some inane comment about her will power and dieting. Unlike many of her friends she didn't like cream, or really sweet foods.

If she'd been going to develop a weight problem, her mother's plates of pasta topped with a variety of mouth-watering sauces would have initiated it years ago. Gratefully she accepted the trim figure nature had endowed her with, but whenever she stood naked in front of a mirror and saw her high full breasts, she felt that she had more than paid her dues. To some people they were attractive. Her face warmed. Nick had loved her breasts. Not that he had... She cut off the way her thoughts were running land locked at Tam Fletcher.

"Welcome back." Tam quirked an eyebrow, as he came around and drew back her chair.

Her brow wrinkled.

"From that place you frequently retreat to. Mentally, that is."

It was a bad habit. She knew that. And it was scarcely the hallmark of good manners to withdraw into her own world, and she was doing it more and more.

"I'm sorry." She stood up moving away slightly. He was too close.

He turned her gently toward him. "It doesn't work," he said softly.

Startled, she looked up at him.

"All the introspection. The wondering why. It doesn't bring them back, and it doesn't help you forget."

"I don't want to forget," she said, quickly. Nick would always be there. Not because she loved him. There was a multitude of reasons why she would never forget him, but it wouldn't be because she had loved him, and that was the root of her problems. Her guilt.

"You have to forget, Belinda. You can't live in the past. Replace old memories with new ones."

She was shaking her head. He didn't know. He couldn't possibly know.

"Yes," he said, bending his head.

"No," she whispered, but he swallowed her protests in a kiss. It was unlike any kiss she had ever experienced. He didn't seek to impose his masculinity, to entice her to submit to his seductive charm. It was more like a gesture of healing, of empathy.

Her body relaxed and sank into his, almost like surrendering to some current, some force. Her body seemed to respond to the warmth and strength of his, almost like being recharged. When he removed his lips and tucked her head against his chest she felt bereft, nuzzling closer, unaware of the little sound of despair that escaped from her lips. Slowly she raised her head.

His lips came down hard this time, seeking, demanding, tasting, and her comfort became fear. He was no different. He wanted something from her, and she had nothing left to give. She tore her mouth away and pushed at his chest. "I don't want this."

"Why? What are you afraid of, Belinda? Life? Love? Are you afraid to feel again?" He was still holding her and she felt trapped, like some insect in the web of a very dangerous spider.

What was she afraid of? If she knew that, she wouldn't be tossing around in the sea of emotions that engulfed her every time she tried to come to grips with her problems.

His long fingers captured her chin forcing her to look up at him. His hypnotic green gaze seemed to hold her like some magnetic force and she knew she couldn't avoid answering his question.

"I'm not afraid. I'm just not ready for any kind of involvement, especially emotional."

"Then you might as well start packing," he said harshly. "This Camp is going to a hotbed of emotional involvement, so if you can't handle it you'd better say so now."

"I didn't mean that kind of involvement." She squirmed under his penetrating gaze.

His hand dropped away from her face. "I'm not sure we're on the same wavelength here," he said. "You apparently segregate your emotions in little boxes. Believe me when I tell you, Belinda, that you can slam shut the lid on the one marked, 'romantic involvement', because I'm probably even less ready for that one than you are."

She could feel the heat of the color that suffused her face. She hadn't asked him to kiss her, and she hadn't for one moment thought he was indulging in any romantic fantasy. Memories of his warm lips and the initial sweetness of his kiss came flooding back.

Other memories intruded. Nick's kisses. Hard and demanding. Restrained only by the specter of her father in the background. Only Nick's desire, need, to stay in favor with her father, who made no secret of his old fashioned values, had kept their engagement on a non-sexual basis.

There had been a sharing, a sweetness, and a healing quality in Tam's first kiss. She hadn't mistaken it for a romantic interlude. She shivered, remembering his second kiss. There was no misapprehension about the sensuality of that kiss, or his intention.

A sigh shook her frame as she eased herself away from him.

He was just another hazard to be dealt with in her fragile state. She crossed her arms together. The whole purpose of joining his project was to help her work her way out of the black hole she was in, and if she had to shovel Tam Fletcher out of the way, then she would do just that.

"I'm beginning to recognize that look," he said with a wry smile. "It spells determination. I wonder what or who is lurking in your sights."

"I am determined," she agreed. "Determined to do the very best I can to help make this project a success." She stood as tall as her small stature would allow. He towered over her, but she refused to be intimidated. She dredged up a smile from the depths. " To do that, I'm going to need a decent night's sleep. If you'll excuse me." She turned and left the room, head high. Any guilty picture of him cleaning up the kitchen was ruthlessly banished from her mind. Let him work off his frustrations in a sink full of soapsuds.

The sound of dishes slamming into a dishwasher robbed her of even that small satisfaction, and as she paused in the doorway to her bedroom, she heard loud knocking at the front door.

So much for her theory that only the back door was used, she thought, as she made her way to the door. It was a heavy old-fashioned door and by the time she had wrestled with the old brass knob Tam was behind her. He leaned over her and pulled the door open.

"Tam!" Belinda dodged a tall, slim woman who hurtled into Tam's welcoming embrace.

Belinda watched the tableau confronting her with an unexplained sinking somewhere in the region of her heart. Her emotions tumbled and tossed like a small ship in a turbulent sea. She strove for calm as her mind sorted and filed the evolving pictures confronting her. Several details became clear. Tam had no objection to the mauling he was being subjected to, and showed no desire to escape.

The woman was wrapped around him like a second skin, and when he eventually disengaged himself and set her aside, Belinda realized that if she had searched the world for a woman opposite in every way to herself she couldn't have come up with a better choice.

Short blonde hair topped a tall, svelte figure, brown eyes made a lovely contrast, and her figure was as boyish as Belinda's was curvaceous.

"Belinda."

When Tam spoke, she tried to clear her mind of negative thoughts. What did she care if Tam Fletcher was addicted to slim blondes? Uninhibited blondes, she added, twisting the knife in her own wound.

"This is Helen Carson," he went on. "Helen's a registered nurse, and she'll be looking after that aspect of the camp."

Belinda smiled; trying desperately to find the right words of welcome, but Helen took the initiative shouldering a large backpack with ease. "Pleased to meet you, Belinda. What role has Tam persuaded you to play in this scheme of his?"

Persuaded. That was a new twist. She had to practically beg for the chance to work with him. "I'm the O.T," she said. And as she answered the other girl's question she felt certain that Helen wouldn't have needed to apply any pressure to become an active member of Tam's team. Just how deep her involvement in the team would be, remained to be seen. That Tam and Helen knew each other well was obvious, but was their knowledge of each other personal or professional?

Helen adjusted the heavy pack, still slung from her shoulders. Her brown eyes twinkled with mischief. "I'll put this in your bedroom, shall I, Tam?"

"Of course," he said with a grin. "Where else?"

Chapter Four

Belinda sat on her bed. No need for curiosity about their relationship, now. She could hear the murmur of voices through the wall, and hoped fervently that would be all she would hear.

What did she care? Despite her restricted upbringing, she had no quarrel with two adults having a relationship. Helen was obviously willing and eager, and confident in her ability to fulfill Tam Fletcher's needs.

A sudden memory burned into her brain. Tam's arms holding her. His kisses soothing and then ravishing her lips. Oh, he had needs all right, and if Florence Nightingale hadn't arrived would he have tried to alleviate them with her? She was a widow, after all. Perhaps he thought she had needs of her own.

Fury swept through Belinda as she stomped into the bathroom to clean her teeth. She ran the water full blast to drown out the sound effects from next door, and threw herself into bed with the pillow over her face.

Sleep didn't evade her as she had imagined it would, but her slumber was punctuated by dreams, and she remembered fighting the pillow she had used as a shield against any involuntary eavesdropping.

In her dream some towering creature had taken the pillow from her and placed it under her head. She'd thought for a frightening moment that she was about to be suffocated, but the hazy figure had emitted soothing noises and she had eventually calmed down.

The warmth of the early morning sun coaxed her awake and she raised her head to look out of the window. It was a perfect day. As her head sank back on the pillow, now in its rightful place, her mouth puckered in a smile. She must have put it there herself, but it's amazing what strange interpretations one's subconscious could come up with during a dream.

Belinda threw back the covers and shot out of bed. Today the first intake of children would be arriving and she wanted to be ready early to play her part. Her suitcase stood at the end of her bed and she unpacked a few items, hanging a couple of dresses in an old fashioned wardrobe and putting her underwear into the drawers of a lovely old silky oak chest.

The house was a mixture of old and new, with the convenience of modern appliances combining with the pleasure of being surrounded by old fragrant smelling, polished furniture.

She jolted herself back into action, grabbing clean, lacy underwear, and after showering and washing her hair, she donned a white cotton blouse and denim skirt. Her hair hung in damp twists of curl around her shoulders so she applied the blow dryer until it was tamed into a glossy black curtain. Using a large gold clasp she caught the shining mass neatly onto her neck. A mental picture of a neat blonde bob intruded, but she ruthlessly thrust it from her mind.

The bedroom next door was ominously silent as Belinda left her room, but as she approached the kitchen she could hear the chink of china.

"Tea's made," Tam said, as she entered the room. "Helen shouldn't be far behind you."

You should know, Belinda thought, eyeing him warily as she sank onto a chair at the old pine topped table. He looked remarkably fresh for a man who had spent the night in the throes of lovemaking, and she felt so... so jaded.

"Didn't have a good night?" he asked sympathetically. It was more of a statement really. He placed a steaming cup of tea in front of her, and passed her the milk and sugar.

"Thank you," she said, stiffly. "I slept perfectly," she added for good measure.

"Really. Oh, well, I guess we all have our little idiosyncrasies. Wrestling with the pillow and fighting imaginary demons is not one I've encountered before."

She choked momentarily on her tea, and before she could ask the question that was hammering in her brain, he announced casually. "I was on my way to the sleep-out when I heard strange noises in your room. You seemed hell bent on suffocating yourself so I rearranged your pillow."

The towering creature of her dreams. Tam Fletcher. Belinda felt the color rising in her cheeks. Sleep-out. That meant...

"Morning all." Helen's arrival quelled any post-mortem on Belinda's sleeping habits. She was dressed in cream linen slacks, topped by a cinnamon colored blouse, and she looked like an advertisement for healthy living.

"Everyone sleep well?" The cheerful question made Belinda take a large gulp of hot tea, and Tam's face creased in a wry smile.

"You obviously did," he said, running an appreciative eye over her.

"I always do in your bed, darling," she said.

Belinda's brain was just replaying the 'did she' or 'didn't she' refrain when Tam put her out of her misery.

"While I have to tie myself in knots in the killer-cot out on the sleep-out."

"Your choice, sweety." Helen picked up the teapot and poured herself a cup of tea.

Belinda cringed at such blatant 'come on' tactics, but Tam just laughed and changed the subject.

"Our first intake of children will arrive at ten-thirty, and I'd like you both to be available to help them settle in, and soothe any worries their parents might have."

"Won't we need to move over to the cabins tonight?" Belinda asked. God, she seemed to be obsessed with sleeping arrangements.

"Yes, we'll all move into cabins later today," Tam said. "Once the camp is running normally we can take it in turns to have some time up here at the house."

Tam offered to cook breakfast for them but both Helen and Belinda opted to have cereal and toast and they left him to cook bacon and eggs for himself.

Belinda turned to Helen as they left the kitchen. "I think I'll go over to the community hall. I'm not very familiar with the set up."

"I'll come with you," Helen said. "The dispensary's in the same building."

They fell into step together and as they reached the hall Helen said, "We'll probably have interlocking roles in this project, Belinda. We can't afford to have any friction."

"Why should there be?" Belinda turned her head in surprise. Was she being subtly warned off Tam Fletcher? She tried to see behind the other girl's cheerful facade. There was more than a working relationship between Tam and her, that much was obvious.

"No reason." Helen's smile didn't quite make the grade. "You just come across as rather intense, and I'm the universal clown. I don't want to upset you. Tam wants the atmosphere at this camp to be light hearted, uplifting."

And I'm the original wet blanket, Belinda thought. Were her tangled emotions so obvious? If Helen saw her as such a drag then no doubt Tam felt the same way.

"I promise to keep your advice in mind," Belinda said with a smile. "I've got nothing against being light hearted, and I'm sure with practice I'll get the hang of it." She felt mean as soon as she'd spoken. The hidden barb was there, but fortunately Helen took her words at face value.

"You know what they say, 'practice makes perfect'. I'll go check my medications, now." Helen drifted off toward the dispensary, which, along with Tam’s surgery, was included in the complex of the community hall.

The hall had been unlocked and Belinda drew in her breath. She hadn't seen any of the facilities in any detail on her first visit and the size and wealth of equipment she had to work with came as a surprise. There was a general meeting area, a small library, and an area set up for craft work with the necessary materials.

A side door led to a small but well equipped gymnasium and a heated pool. Despite its newness and the efficiency of its layout, the camp atmosphere had been retained, both in the construction of the building and the materials used. Around the hall, the original trees had been preserved contributing to the bushy landscape.

Belinda drew in a sharp breath. Tam Fletcher might have worked his way through medical school, but he had certainly found a money source since. She frowned as she worried away at the problem. He was a specialist in his field and would earn big money, but the road to specializing was both lengthy and expensive.

"I'm glad you've found your way around." She turned quickly. His rich voice had a devastating effect on her. It seemed to seep through her, bringing to life areas she had purposely let lie fallow.

"It's a very luxurious health camp," she said.

He gave her a rueful smile. "Camp is something of a misnomer, but I want the children to feel that they're on holiday rather than rehabilitating from serious illness."

"Won't this whole concept take a great deal of money?" She knew it was none of her business, but her curiosity about the man she would be working with was growing and suddenly she felt an urge to have it satisfied.

"A great deal," he agreed. "The profits from the farm will go into the pot, but it will need continual topping up."

"How..." Belinda cut off the question. She didn't care whether she was paid or not, and she had no right to be cross-examining him.

"Ah. The lady wants to know who's going to pay the piper." The look he threw at her was cynical, and she knew he thought that money played an important role in her scheme of things. It did. It increased her guilt, because Nick had died a wealthy man, and he'd left everything to her. And he had thought she loved him.

"No, I don't want to know that. I'm sorry I was just curious."

He sighed, and for a moment, he too seemed to be the victim of less than happy thoughts. "This farm," he said, "used to be a great deal bigger. Eventually, a road was constructed through it and it caused both inconvenience and made the farm less viable. After my father died, some of the land was sold for development."

Belinda looked out over the vista, rolling hills, mountains in the distance. "It's a beautiful area."

"Oh yes, and it fetched a very healthy sum of money. There was no shortage of people eager to buy acreage, and try their hand at hobby farming. That money has been invested and will go a long way toward meeting our expenses."

"I see." She didn't know what to say. He sounded bitter, but no one had forced him to sell. Had they? He had mentioned a brother but he was certainly nowhere to be seen.

"Do you? At least you can see that your small salary is assured and will appear as regularly as clockwork."

She could feel the redness creep up her neck to suffuse her cheeks, and her temper rose in accordance. "That's the least of my worries," she said, biting hard on her anger.

"I imagine that's true enough," he said. "You're the epitome of the wealthy widow, but not it would seem a very merry one."

"Why should I be?" she raged. "You make it sound as if fate had done me a favor." Her anger dissipated suddenly and she felt cold. There was no denying that she was free to live her life without the restriction of a marriage she hadn't wanted in the first place. He couldn't know that. She fought back tears putting a protective hand in front of her eyes. She had forgotten her sore arm and she flinched.

"Still hurting?" He could have been questioning her emotions, but he was already gently moving her arm.

"Very slightly. I can pack some ice around it later."

"Promise?" He lowered her arm gently to her side as he quirked an eyebrow at her.

"Of course. I want to be capable of giving my job one hundred percent."

"Good. Now we'd better prepare ourselves for the onslaught."

Tam had been right about the onslaught. Anxious parents, querulous children, and despite Tam's mind boggling organization, an element of confusion. After a couple of hectic hours helping children to settle in, and reassuring parents, Belinda was glad to have a few moments in the cabin allocated to her.

She sank into a chair in the small living area and let her gaze wander around the interior. The rustic atmosphere appealed to her and she looked forward to having a small refuge for herself.

Most of the parents had stayed to have a light lunch with their children and after slipping up to the house to repack her clothes, she had a few minutes reprieve. Make that seconds, she mentally corrected, as she went to the door in response to a series of loud knocks.

"Oh Jim." She hadn't seen him since her embarrassing attempt at milking, and as the unpleasant memory surfaced, she felt uncomfortable in his presence.

"I've been demoted to carrier," he said indicating her suitcase. "You'd better tell me where you want this."

"On this rack, please, Jim." Belinda gestured toward the sturdy hip height shelf attached to the cabin wall.

She smiled, "Thank you. I appreciate your help." As he nodded and turned to leave, she took a deep breath. "Jim!"

He turned, his lined face expressionless, and she almost lost her nerve. "I was wondering, could you... would you teach me to milk a cow?"

A slow grin split the taciturn features. "Now lass that would necessitate getting up early. Very early. Before any one else, if you know what I mean."

She knew exactly what he meant, and she could have hugged him. He might be a grouchy old dairy farmer but he knew that her pride had taken a caning and she wanted privacy to regain her self-esteem.

"That won't be a problem," she assured him.

"Tomorrow, five-thirty." He snapped the command, turned, and marched off like a drill sergeant.

Belinda let her breath out in a long sigh. What had she done? She'd taken the first step toward letting Tam Fletcher know she wasn't a spoiled, rich bitch, playing a do-gooder role, that's what she'd done. At the back of her mind another reason crept but she tried not to acknowledge it.

Damn! It wouldn't go away. She just knew that Helen Carson would milk cows with a natural born skill.

The cabin didn't boast much luxury, as befitted its camp status, but Belinda managed to hang up a few clothes, and unpack some of her everyday gear. After finding the necessary essentials she made herself a quick cup of tea and then stepped out to rejoin the fray outside.

Parents were drifting away, some reluctantly, and Belinda could share their reticence. Leaving a child who had almost died would be a tremendous undertaking, and she felt the first stirrings of uneasiness at the role she would be expected to play. Each one of them had a huge responsibility, Tam more so than anyone.

At least the children seemed unconcerned as they broke away into small groups; already supporting each other with a maturity gleaned the hard way. All, that was, except one.

Belinda walked toward a young boy seated on an old tree stump in the shade of the hall. He looked about twelve; his face still bathed in the pallor of illness. He wore a navy blue baseball cap and scuffed the toe of his gym boot in the dirt. His legs were thin and the large boots put Belinda in mind of a beetle she had often seen with stick legs and large feet.

"Hello. Can I draw up a stump?" Belinda's joke barely raised a smile. "I'm Belinda." She tried again, searching around for words to describe her role. Any hint of a medical capacity would probably put paid to any camaraderie between them.

"Billy," he said, continuing his excavations.

"Would you like me to show you around?" Belinda held her breath. If they were all going to be as uncommunicative, she would have her work cut out.

"Nah. What's to see?"

"There's the dairy." She prayed for a city child's interest to be aroused by something different.

He looked toward the milking shed. "Can't walk that far."

Belinda silently cursed, vowing to discuss every child's background with Tam before she indulged in any more orientation activities.

"I see you've met young William." Tam's deep voice made her jump.

"Billy." It was said without emotion and without looking at either of them.

"Of course. My apologies." Tam bent down to the young boy's level. "There's nothing worse than being called the wrong name. Now if you were to call me Thomas I would cringe in my boots."

"Whatcha called then?" A spark of interest. Belinda drew in a long breath.

"Tam. I can't stand Thomas."

The pale lips twisted into a grin.

"How about a swim, Billy. I reckon we could twist...oops. Arm twisting is definitely out. Belinda's already got a sore arm."

"That right? Me too. How did you hurt yours? You didn't have a brain tumor too, did you?"

Belinda bit down hard on the gasp that almost escaped her. Poor little tike. "No, I...er...I slipped."

"Oh. Yours'll get better then." He seemed to slip back into the depression that hung about him, and Tam spoke quickly.

"And so will yours, Billy, and Belinda will help you to get the strength back in your arm. She's got lots of fun things for you to do, that will help your arm and your leg get back to normal."

Billy gave her a long assessing look and Belinda gave him a tentative smile. "How about that swim?"

He nodded, getting awkwardly to his feet. "I'll have to change."

"We'll all need to do that," Tam said. "Five minutes, and we'll meet back here."

It was all right for him, Belinda thought, as she frantically hurled things from her suitcase. It would take five minutes to find her bathers. She heaved a sigh of relief as she unearthed the dark blue one-piece. Clothes flew in all directions as she undressed and hauled the slim garment over her hips. A quick twirl in front of the small mirror didn't show her much, but she didn't need any full-length scrutiny. The swimsuit had been bought to wear on her honeymoon and fitted like a second skin. It screamed expensive simplicity and she felt as if it had dollar signs all over it. The matching short robe rocketed the whole ensemble further up market, and for the first time in her life Belinda wished that she was less discerning in her choice of clothes.

Tam and Billy were already in the pool and Billy's stubble coated head, almost brought tears to her eyes. So young to have been through so much, and he would have to face up to more trauma and hard work to bring his weakened limbs back to normal.

"What took you so long," Tam mocked. His taunting smile faded a little as she dropped the robe by the pool and quickly braided her hair in a thick plait.

As she broke the surface in a clean dive the warm water lapped silkily at her body. She missed the sharp exhilarating jolt that usually accompanies a sudden dive into water, and the warmth seemed strange and dangerously seductive.

She shook her head as she emerged beside Tam and Billy. What the hell was the matter with her? Seductive. It wasn't the water she had a problem with. It was Tam Fletcher. The top half sticking out of the water was enough to feed her nightmares for a week. His rich brown hair hugged his scalp in thick damp curls, and small drops of water glistened on the repeated pattern on his broad chest. The muscles flexed in his arms as he helped Billy to stay afloat encouraging him to kick his legs and move his arms.

After an energetic half-hour in the pool, Billy began to wilt and Tam suggested some afternoon tea. He helped Billy from the pool and then hauled himself up over the side. Belinda closed her eyes. She didn't want to see the perfect lines of his strong body, feel the renegade response of her own.

For months she'd felt suspended in limbo, in a state totally lacking in enthusiasm or pleasure. To be wrenched back into the mainstream of life with her emotions and her senses heightened to fever pitch seemed a cruel irony.

She opened her eyes as Billy did a second rate job of toweling himself off. Tam was dry and hauling shirt and shorts over his bathers. Every muscle flexed and beckoned and Belinda tried to camouflage her dismay as her body responded. Her skin-tight suit exposed pouting nipples, and she looked wildly around for her robe.

"You'll be needing this." Tam held it out for her, the sparkle in his eyes matching the shimmering green water of the pool.

Perhaps it was just a reflection. She clung to the hope, but she knew that he'd seen her response and she wanted to curl up and die.

"We'd better join the fray," Tam suggested, and she heartily agreed.

Billy limped ahead of them, his spirits definitely improved.

Belinda watched him join the others gathered under a large tree for a picnic afternoon tea. A small step, she thought, but it had required the efforts of two people and there were many others needing help.

"The others," she voiced her concern. "I suppose we should share ourselves around more." A frown puckered her brow. "I hope we weren't needed anywhere else."

They had come to a halt under the tree. "Don't be such a worrier," Tam said. "There's a good ratio of adults and children. There are volunteer medical students coming in on a regular basis. Many of them have outdoor skills. Everyone, caterers, cleaning staff and health workers have been especially chosen."

A sigh of relief escaped, and she said in a rush. "Billy seemed special, somehow."

"Yes." His eyes drifted over to where the lad was on the edge of the group. "Yes," he said again. "A bit of a fringe dweller, young Billy, but once he loses his fears and gains his confidence he'll be fine."

A fringe dweller. Belinda bit her lip. Was that how Tam saw her. Afraid to face up to life. What had he said to her? "What are you afraid of Belinda? Life? Love?"

She suppressed the little shiver that ran down her spine. Her life had been spared in a terrible accident and she had been afraid of that gift of life. Now she was beginning to live again. Love? She had liked Nick but she hadn't loved him. She'd never experienced the sort of love a man and a woman feel for each other. Tam put a hand on her arm and steered her toward the tea table. She was unprepared for the surge of warmth that suffused her whole being. She floundered around in unfamiliar emotion. It was just the pull of sexual attraction, she was sure of that.

It couldn't be the beginnings of love. She thrust the thought from her mind. Of course it wasn't. She clenched her fists. She mustn't even think like this. She wasn't afraid of loving Tam Fletcher. She was petrified.

Chapter Five

Belinda jerked awake, her heart hammering. She shot out a hand and whacked the alarm clock. Her whole body was trembling. She shook her head in disgust. What a basket case.

She took several deep breaths to calm herself down, and then threw on some jeans, a T-shirt and a pair of old sneakers. Five-fifteen was the middle of the night as far as she was concerned but if the cows were up and she was to learn to milk them, she didn't have much choice.

Careful not to make any noise she edged outside, sliding the cabin door quietly shut. She stood for a moment breathing in great lung-fulls of the crisp, fresh air. Cobwebs sparkled in the dusky light just before sunrise, and the countryside already rang with an assortment of birdsong.

She offered up a quick prayer for the uneventful night just passed. It would have come as no surprise if some of the children had been homesick, but the reverse seemed the case with the children wanting to stay up late and create mayhem.

Tam had been marvelous with them. She smiled, remembering his peacekeeping strategies and the firm guidelines he had set down for their stay at the camp.

Helen had backed him up very efficiently without creating any waves. She would. Belinda's smile faded and she took a swipe at a stone with her shoe, immediately chastising herself for being petty.

"Where ya goin?"

Belinda yelped in surprise at the voice behind her.

"Billy. What on earth are you doing up so early?"

"I always get up early. Mum used to say it's the best part of the day."

Absorbing the words, "Mum used to say" Belinda wondered about Billy's background. She bit back her questions. The time wasn't right for probing.

"Billy, I'm going to the dairy. You're welcome to come but you said yesterday it was too far for you to walk."

"I'll give it a go." His lean face set in determination.

Belinda slowed her pace. She could always abandon her plans if Billy couldn't cope. She stifled a sigh. She wasn't sure that she wanted an audience for her milking lesson.

They had completed about three-quarters of the distance when Billy sat down on the hard ground.

"You go," he said. "Bloody leg hurts."

Ignoring the bit of language Belinda looked around in desperation. She had an idea. Would he be affronted?

"Billy, I can't piggy back you. You're too big."

"Too right, I am. I’m nearly as big as you." He gave her a cheeky grin. "Not hard that, though. You're pretty short."

"Petite's the word, young man. If you want to get on, petite sounds much better than short. How do you feel about wheelbarrows?"

"Eh! You don't want me to shovel cow..."

"No of course not." She cut him off before he displayed any more of his earthy vocabulary. "I'll wheel you the rest of the way. There's a barrow over by the fence."

He looked a bit affronted but curiosity won and he nodded.

She was puffing when they reached the dairy. Billy might look lean, but he was surprisingly heavy and she nearly tipped him out a couple of times.

Jim was waiting for them, and in his usual deadpan fashion made no comment on the extra pupil or his mode of transport.

He produced two cows with perfect manners and after a few false starts he had them both milking.

"Sheez, look at that." Billy watched the stream of rich milk hiss into the bucket.

Jim's face cracked into a wry smile. He said quietly to Belinda. "Do you reckon he thought they produced it packaged in a cardboard carton?"

The sun had risen when Belinda walked back toward the cabins. The sky seemed unbelievably blue and the sound of the birds' singing was the sweetest she had ever heard.

"Been for a morning walk?"

She jumped at the sound of his voice. Its music was sweeter than the birdsong. "Yes." No way was she admitting where she had been.

"It's seems our Billy's an early bird, as well." Tam indicated Billy's journey back from the dairy seated in front of Jim on the farm tractor. Billy left Jim with a whoop of joy and came limping up to them, cutting short Tam's inquisition.

As he reached them, Belinda said quickly, "Billy wanted to see the cows. Watch what happens in a dairy." She emphasized the word watch and received a startled glance from Billy.

He wasn't stupid and he said, "Yeah. We watched the milking."

"That's a start," Tam said. "Did you manage to walk all the way?"

"Nope. Belinda pushed me in the barrow."

Tam threw back his head and laughed. "That would have been worth seeing."

"What would have been worth seeing?"

Billy scowled as Helen joined them. He seemed unimpressed by the attractive picture she made, dressed in silk blouse and tight jeans. Her blonde hair shone in the early morning sun and there was nothing about her that Belinda could see that would cause such a fierce look of dislike on the face of a child. Unless... Belinda felt the brush of uneasiness. Billy had spent his time exclusively with Tam and her. Perhaps he was seeing them as a little unit.

"Aren't you going to enlighten me?" Helen looked up at Tam, but before he could answer Billy interrupted, his tone fierce.

"It was nothing. Nothing you'd be interested in."

"A bit of problem solving," Belinda added. "Billy you've just got time to clean up before breakfast."

He was gone in seconds, and Belinda decided to follow suit.

As she showered and washed the smell of cow from her hair, she decided that she would have to become involved with the other children and quickly. She wasn't employed in a one to one situation, and as she dressed rapidly in a cotton knit shirt and linen shorts, she pondered for a moment on Tam's special interest in Billy.

There was no doubt Billy had a unique vulnerability, with the added visual impact of a weakened arm and leg. A picture of Tam's gentleness as he encouraged the boy skittered through her mind. Perhaps it was a natural trademark of the physician. She shook back her thick wet hair. No point in speculating. She slid a wide headband into place. Her hair would have to dry naturally. A recipe for disaster, she thought as she spun from the room sliding the cabin door shut behind her.

The babble of voices rose above the clatter of plates in the cafeteria style dining area, and Belinda made a special effort to sit with a group of young girls she had barely had contact with. The conversation centered on clothes, movies, sports and boys. They were quite incredible, she thought, behaving as if they had suffered a minor hiccup in their lives, rather than a near death experience. She had come to help them, instruct them, when in fact she felt more like the pupil herself.

"They make me feel humble," she told Tam outside the dining hall, as they filtered off to various activities.

"Is that a new experience?" he said, a sliver of sarcasm in his voice.

Her eyes conveyed her hurt. He was determined to misjudge her. "Why?" she asked. "Why do you dislike me so much?"

"If I disliked you I'd scarcely have offered you a job."

Belinda sensed he was avoiding the issue. He was defensive with her, and yet he had shown moments of tenderness. She shivered as she thought of his kisses.

"Personal feelings aren't important," he said firmly. "Unless of course you're self centered enough to need the admiration of every person in your orbit."

She drew in a sharp breath. He'd meant to say male, she felt sure, and what he had said was mean spirited to say the least.

"I'm not interested in admiration," she said. "Nor am I self centered."

As she spoke in her own defense, doubt raged through her system. Wasn't her continual grief a symptom of self-absorption? She hadn't really looked at it in that light. No wonder he thought of her as some spoiled little rich girl, expecting star billing all the time.

"Excuse me," she said, "I promised the girls I'd help them with some screen printing."

Involving the children in artwork designed to help with particular problems kept her busy until lunch time. Billy was the one who caused her the most frustration. He was uninterested in craft work, declaring it sissy, and unable to take part in any sports programs. In desperation, Belinda took him outside to see if she could involve him in some kind of outdoor activity.

"I'll sit here and watch the others," he announced, parking himself on a bench built around the tree. He was still there when Belinda and a group of girls left the hall to go to the dining room.

"Look at this." He held up a piece of branch that had fallen from the tree.

"It reminds me of something," Belinda said, turning the wood over in her hands.

"It would make a mean looking crocodile." Billy took the wood back, and pointed to a small dark knot. "There's its eye, and the blotches on it look like scales."

"You're right." An idea churned around in her mind. It would be a bit risky, with his weak arm, but she could supervise.

"Billy, would you like to carve the wood? Make your crocodile come to life, in a manner of speaking. I've got some wood carving tools."

"Yeah. Sounds good." He actually looked enthusiastic.

"After lunch," she promised. "You'll have to be careful. The carving knives are sharp."

Many of the children voluntarily went to their cabins to read or rest after lunch. Serious illness was a harsh teacher and they had learned to pace themselves. Billy was not among them.

"The carving tools," he said to Belinda, exasperation in every line of his face.

Doubt was niggling at her. His right arm was weak and he was right handed, but on the plus side, the carving action would help redevelop his wasted muscles.

"Okay." Retracting the offer wasn't an option and they called into her cabin and collected the set of carving knifes that she had included in her gear.

Once they were seated in the community hall Belinda spread out the tools and showed Billy how to use them. His patience surprised her; but then again, patience was probably another hard won facet of serious illness.

Belinda gave him a smile of encouragement but she tempered it with a warning. "Billy I don't want you to use these if I'm not around."

He nodded intent on his work. "I'll be careful."

While he chipped away she got up and checked on the morning's screen printing, keeping a wary eye on his progress. The T-shirts the girls had printed were drying nicely. Strung out on a line near the window the individual patterns and colors provided a decorative effect.

Belinda returned to sit at the table where Billy carved away at his crocodile, his face creased in concentration. She took out some notes Tam had made for her on the background of each child and began to plan for their individual requirements.

"Innovative, if not a bit ambitious."

Damn! He must walk on air. "Must you sneak up on me?" As soon as she had spoken, she regretted it. Waspish. There was no other way to describe how she sounded.

"Sorry. It's not intentional. Must be a habit acquired from creeping around hospital wards."

He looked nothing like the professional he was. A cotton knit shirt lovingly encased his torso emphasizing the breadth of his chest. It was tucked into denim shorts that crept up over his long legs as he lowered himself onto the bench beside her. She glanced down at his Reebok clad feet. Every inch of him from his toes to his head of thick glossy hair oozed sex appeal.

A faint smell of after-shave twitched her nostrils and twanged at her nerves. The feelings that raged through her almost made her blush. She forced herself to think of Nick and instead of the usual sense of sadness and loss, all she could think of was that she couldn't remember what his after-shave smelt like. She drew in her breath in a whoosh. What was happening to her?

"Something wrong?" Tam was looking at her strangely and she prayed that he didn't list among his attributes an ability to read minds.

"What you just said," she improvised madly. "Do you think I'm wrong to let Billy loose with sharp tools?"

"It's your decision, Belinda. I'm not an O.T. I'm sure you know what you're doing."

He was placing the responsibility squarely on her. Was it just a cop out? He could blame her if something went wrong. No. She knew he wasn't a man who shirked responsibility. Did that mean that he had faith in her professional ability at least?

The surge of confidence she felt was as welcome as it was foreign. Since the accident her self-esteem and faith in herself had been at an all time low. A smile of pure joy lit her face. "Thank you," she said.

He just sat looking at her until she felt uncomfortable. "What?" she said.

"No wonder the children relate so well to you," he said. "You look like one of their peers."

"I'm twenty four," she said. And widowed, she almost added for good measure.

"With hair barely confined in a band. No make up and the stature of a teenager."

She put up a hand to smooth her hair, but she knew it was a lost cause. She'd seen it all before. Untamed by a session with brush and dryer it would be a mass of black curls, framing her face like a black storm cloud.

"I'm sorry," she said. "I was short of time. Tomorrow I'll try for a more professional image."

"Don't," he said, his tone soft and smooth. It was only her imagination that gave it an overtone of seduction. "The whole concept of Camp Conquest is informality."

For a moment their eyes locked together but Belinda looked away quickly. Her feelings were running riot. She didn't need the complication of being physically attracted to Tam. It was a new experience for her.

Oh, she had enjoyed Nick's kisses but if she was honest with herself she had half feared the more intimate relationship that marriage would have entailed. There had been just a twinge of distaste when she'd thought about it and it only enhanced her guilt when she'd felt relief that she had never had to cope with that experience.

She stole a glance at Tam, her thoughts wildly picturing those same intimacies that she'd feared. There was no fear and her blood fizzed and sang at the pictures her mind created.

"Ouch!" Billy's yelp brought her back to earth with a jolt.

Blood ran down his hand from a cut on one finger. For a moment dismay held Belinda rigid until she forced her feelings under control and rushed to his side.

Tam was there ahead of her. "It's not a bad cut," he reassured them both as he calmly examined Billy's finger. "A butterfly plaster should fix it".

Belinda ran to the nearby dispensary and gathered up the first aid box. Tam was already holding Billy's hand upright over the sink and when she handed him a gauze swab he cleaned the cut and deftly applied the plaster. He added a small bandage. "Just in case it bleeds a bit more and for a more theatrical effect," he told Billy.

"A bit tame after the bandage I had on me head," Billy replied smartly.

"Yes," Tam gave him a gentle smile. "I guess you've had your fill of theatrics young man."

He turned to Belinda. She knew what he was about to ask and she knew that she would have to make the decision.

"Okay for Billy to continue?" he asked nodding at the tools.

"Of course." Her confident reply hid a multitude of doubts, but she knew it was her responsibility and she knew that she had to make her own decisions both in her job and her future. The woodcarving had re-awakened an interest in life for Billy that she suspected had lain dormant for too long.

"It wasn't a bad cut," she said, placing a reassuring hand on Billy's shoulder. "You need to go a little more slowly, Billy, especially now that you have a bandaged finger. Also, you need to make a little more allowance for the weakness in your hand and arm."

She drew in a breath as she dropped her arm from his shoulder. Perhaps she could have phrased that a little more tactfully. Billy looked at his hand as if it was some alien appendage.

Tam put his hands on Billy's shoulders turning him to face him. He looked into a pair of brown eyes dull with despair. "Billy, we all have times in our lives when we have to make allowances. Sometimes because something has happened to us. Sometimes because something has happened to someone else, but still has an effect on our lives."

"That's right, Billy." Belinda looked gratefully at Tam. She wondered if he was speaking from experience.

Billy gave them both a long look and returned to his chipping.

***

Apart from Helen appearing suddenly to claim Tam the rest of the afternoon was uneventful.

When Billy finally admitted to tiredness Belinda walked with him back to his cabin. He was sharing with two younger boys who fortunately had gone to the recreation room to watch a video.

"If ever you need to rest and the others are too noisy," Belinda said, "You can use my cabin."

"And Tam's," he told her with a grin.

Great minds think alike, she thought, as she left Billy to rest. Tam had apparently made the same suggestion. But did they really think alike? She suspected that Tam was battling the same physical pull that she felt, but he too seemed beset with his own particular devils.

His manner with the children was warm and understanding. He had an easygoing relationship with Helen, on the surface at least. Belinda brushed a wayward lock off her forehead. That left his attitude toward her. He seemed to sense her guilt, her inability to slot back into a normal life again. There seemed to be something about her that bothered him. Almost… Belinda tried to put her finger on an elusive thought. Almost as if her emotions mirrored some of his own and he didn't like it. No! He didn't like it one bit.

Chapter Six

The recreation room seemed to be the hub of activity that evening. Belinda glanced around the room. Tam's dark head towered above everyone else and he was surrounded by a group of noisy teenagers.

She drew in a sharp breath. There was an assortment of children in the room, some young adults, all wearing the badge of their recent illness. Some were thin and frail, others just pale, battling an almost terminal weariness. There was more than one stubble coated head but Billy's wasn't among them.

"Help!" Tam gestured with a grin.

"Bit out of your depth," Belinda teased with a smile, walking over to his group.

He gave her a surprised look.

God, was she usually such a Dismal Dora that a smile and a teasing comment brought forth such a shocked look?

"I'm wondering whether it's possible to divide myself into bits and distribute them around the room, he said. He sounded a bit fraught.

"Okay," Belinda said, surprising herself at the firm note in her voice. "Some of you come with me and we'll find something to do."

"Scrabble." A thin girl wearing a jaunty cap announced. "We want to play Scrabble. Tam says he can't spell."

"No, I'm sure he can't," Belinda agreed with a solemn nod of her head.

Tam's "I'll get you for this," look, sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine.

Belinda was about to shepherd her group over to a table when she thought again of Billy. She ran her eye around the room again.

"He's asleep," Tam said, reading her mind. "Probably having nightmares about crocodiles."

A frown creased her brow. Was he critical of the type of therapy she'd chosen and the minor injury Billy had suffered as a result? Her fragile confidence took a dive.

"It was a joke," Tam said touching her on the arm. "Believe in yourself, Belinda. Don't rely on others to give you confidence. It has to come from within."

As she smiled gratefully at him, she wondered if he needed to take his own advice. No, he didn't lack confidence but something was eating away at his peace of mind.

The Scrabble developed into a rowdy competition with many intriguing debates on the side. The girls were right into discussing fashions, make up, and their boyfriends. They were quite uninhibited in front of Belinda and again she felt humbled by their courage and tenacity.

"Could you teach us to sew?" Mary, her jaunty cap pushed back to reveal the fuzzy re-growth of hair, was bursting with enthusiasm. "You know, make some clothes like the ones you wear."

The tinkle of laughter from behind set Belinda's teeth on edge as she prepared to answer, but Helen forestalled her.

"I think Belinda's clothes are a little more up market than the home grown variety, Mary. I'm sure that needles and cotton are as foreign to her as milking cows."

Belinda winced. It hadn't taken Tam long to relate her inadequacies to Helen. She felt a surge of defiance. Helen was wrong on both counts. She had a reasonable idea how to milk a cow now, and as for her ability as a dressmaker….

She turned to face Helen. "Occupational Therapy is quite an exacting career, Helen," she said forcing her voice to sound pleasant, the only sign of the anger she felt, a sparkle in her violet eyes. "All sorts of skills are required and used. As it happens my grandmother taught me to sew when I was quite young and I'm happy to pad out the 'up market gear' with the 'home grown'.

Helen covered her surprise. "Good for you," she said. "If you decide to go ahead with the idea I'm happy to help."

The girls had been over the moon at the thought of learning to sew but as she walked back to her cabin Belinda realized that their excitement was a bit premature. She chewed on her bottom lip as she realized the big stumbling block to their ambitious plans was the fact that Tam's well set up center boasted just about everything except a sewing machine.

She glanced around as she entered her cabin. The children were all filtering back to their accommodations and Helen had offered to do a check around and 'lights out everyone' before she went to bed.

As Belinda prepared for bed she thought again about the proposed sewing bee. It shouldn't be all that difficult to organize. She had a machine at her home in Rockhampton and her mother could pack it up and send it to the camp. Tam had more or less given her a free hand with the therapy the children required so she doubted that he'd object.

As she slipped between the covers her thoughts turned to Tam. She tossed and turned, unable to sleep despite feeling tired, her thoughts churning aimlessly. As she finally drifted off two things were settled in her mind. One was that Tam was a complex personality who kept his feelings well hidden. What he felt about her she had no idea. She didn't have those doubts where Helen was concerned. Obviously Helen regarded her as public enemy number one, and those little barbs she had fired in Belinda's direction was her way of declaring war.

***

A fresh day brought new, clearer thoughts, and as Belinda set off for the dairy and her second milking lesson she decided not to take Helen's spite seriously.

If she had some prior claim to Tam, good luck to her. He was too complicated a character, Belinda decided, for her to cope with. She had enough traumas sorting out her own emotions and trying to shed some of the guilt that had become second nature.

"Here, were you going without me?" Billy hobbled onto the track, clothes all askew, but he had made the effort and Belinda gave up a prayer of thanks. She felt optimistic about Billy's recovery and her spirits lifted as they tramped off together.

"Here's Jim." Billy waved as the tractor pulled up alongside the track.

"Morning Jim." Belinda waved him on as he settled Billy in front of him on the hard tractor seat.

Billy was already milking his cow when she arrived and Jim had Venus ready for Belinda.

"Oh! I don't know about her." She gave Jim a doubtful look.

"That's just it," Jim said. "You just need to get to know her little foibles and she'll eat out of your hand."

Memories of Helen's taunt strengthened her will and Belinda sat down in front of the beast she'd fallen afoul of. With Jim's help she managed to milk the wayward cow, even venturing up to the front end to give Venus a pat.

"Well done. It's just like riding a horse. When you fall off you get straight back on again."

That sexy voice always had a devastating effect on her nervous system and Belinda hung on to one of Venus' ears as she recovered from the shock. Fortunately the cow had now accepted her as a bosom buddy or she might have ended up in the mire again.

"How many secret lessons have you two had?" Tam asked.

"Only two," Jim said. "They're my star pupils."

"Who blew the whistle on us?" Billy asked. "It was that nosy nurse, wasn't it?"

"No." Tam gave Billy a stern look. "It wasn't Helen and she's a very nice lady, with your interests at heart."

An unintelligible muttering was Billy's only response and Tam threw an exasperated look in Belinda's direction.

She hoped he didn't think she was having any input into Billy's dislike of Helen and she felt a bit guilty when she silently admitted that she agreed wholeheartedly with Billy's opinion.

"I can't understand why he has taken a dislike to Helen," she said, as Billy wandered off to where Jim was unhooking milking machines and moving cows along.

"I'll bring him back," Jim called, as Billy joined him.

"It happens that way sometimes," Tam shrugged. "Some people just rub you up the wrong way."

Was he talking about his feelings toward her? Despite the physical pull she still felt sure that Tam disliked her as a person.

"Yes, but given time you can realize that you are mistaken about someone."

"I hope so, Belinda." Tam said.

She stifled a sigh. Did he have to talk in riddles? Was he referring to Billy and Helen or to his feelings toward her?

"Perhaps we could spend some time together this morning," he went on as they walked back toward the cabins. "I'd like to put you in the picture on the background of some of the other children."

"That would be an enormous help," she said. "I've read Billy's case history but I need more information about some of the girls. Mary?"

"Ah, yes! Mary. She's had leukemia. She's had a lengthy spell in hospital. Chemotherapy of course. Her latest lot of tests is encouraging and she's a fighter through and through.

Belinda thought about Mary's desire to learn to sew and wondered about mentioning it to Tam but it was days early yet.

"So, Belinda," Tam's eyes narrowed, "how are things with you? Have you found that new focal point?"

Her violet eyes searched his for a hint of sarcasm, but she could see no trace of it.

"I'm certainly finding working with these children rewarding," she said, trying not to sound stiff and formal.

"And exhausting," Tam added with a grin. "Oh, don't feel a need to deny it. I'm bloody exhausted and I'm used to long hours and broken sleep."

"I think it's emotionally draining," Belinda said. She was glad Tam had admitted to feeling tired. She was beginning to think she had no stamina.

"It is that," Tam agreed. "But I knew the pitfalls when I started up this camp.

"What motivated you?" They had reached the cabins again and she felt that Tam didn't really want to answer her questions.

He hesitated for a moment. "As a physician, I see the beginning, the diagnosis if you like, of a lot of trauma for patients. It is particularly devastating when a young person develops a life-threatening illness. Usually I refer them to a surgeon, oncologist, or some other specialist and then lose track of them. This way I get to follow up on some of them and hopefully see them through to a total cure."

It sounded rational and reasonable but Belinda felt that it was only a surface explanation and that his reasons for starting up the camp went a lot deeper than he was telling her.

"I think it's a great idea," Belinda said, "especially locating the camp on a dairy farm."

"I suppose if I'm totally honest," Tam said with a quirky smile, "I grabbed at the chance to hang onto the farm. My heart is in medicine and it wouldn't have been a sensible option to keep the farm otherwise."

"But your brother…?" Belinda hesitated. She didn't like to pry but he had said his brother ran the farm.

"Andrew's dead."

His tone of voice prohibited her from asking any more questions. His face was like a stone mask. Despite his lack of expression Belinda was sure that her question had stirred the embers of a deeply buried pain.

So, they did have a mutual tragedy in their lives. Was Tam having the same difficulty coming to terms with the loss of his brother that Nick's death had caused her? At least he shouldn't have the feelings of guilt that she had. His love for his brother wouldn't have been in question.

No, definitely not, she thought. Instinctively she felt that there had been a strong bond between his brother and him.

She was still searching around in her mind for a response when Tam said, "I'll just catch up with Billy and steer him toward the bathroom. That young man has only a nodding acquaintance with soap and water." He walked away quickly leaving Belinda no wiser to the enigma that made up Tam Fletcher.

***

"You've got a visitor, Belinda." Mary joined Belinda where she was supervising Billy's carving. Her thin face was alive with curiosity, but Belinda was in no position to satisfy her.

She certainly wasn't expecting any visitors. She knew no one in the locality and she hadn't told anyone where she was going. "Are you sure they want to see me, Mary?"

"Too right. A distinguished looking bloke. A bit old for you though." She gave Belinda a cheeky grin.

"Keep an eye on Billy, will you Mary." Belinda began to head toward the main area a faint suspicion lurking at the back of her mind.

"Don't need keeping an eye on."

Belinda stopped in her tracks cursing her lack of sensitivity. Billy was struggling toward an adulthood forced on him by illness and the last thing he needed was babying.

"I think Mary is interested in your carving, Billy," she said, adding a white lie to her bank of guilt.

"Sure," Mary said. "I wouldn't mind trying a bit of wood carving myself. I'd rather sew though." She gave Belinda a hopeful look.

"Sew! Yuk!" Billy almost dropped the carving knife.

"It's more practical," Mary argued.

Belinda left them to their discussion, glad to see Billy interacting with someone else at the camp.

She reached the door of the reception area and her suspicion became fact.

Her father stood at the information desk chatting up the red-haired volunteer.

His thick hair was gray but his olive complexion was relatively unwrinkled and he had a ready smile, which showed his strong white teeth to advantage. He was still a good-looking man.

She knew that he loved her mother and would never stray but he had an ego and definitely liked to prove to himself that he could still attract the opposite sex.

What he was doing at the camp she had no idea and the thought struck her suddenly that something might be wrong at home.

"Dad!" She rushed forward.

He held out his arms. "Lindy, love. I was just passing and thought I'd drop in."

Belinda almost fell to the floor. Passing! Just drop in! Rockhampton was several hundred miles away, and he had made no mention of a trip to the Sunshine Coast.

As he relinquished his hold she voiced her doubts. "Passing by?" She gave him a suspicious look.

He had the grace to look a bit uncomfortable. "I'm on my way to Brisbane. Stayed last night at Maryborough."

He forestalled her next question. "I know. The hinterland isn't on the way to Brisbane but it's a lovely area and I thought I'd see how you were getting along."

What could she say? He had always been over-protective. Strangely enough when Nick had been killed, he had held back, leaving her to sort out her emotions. She bit back a wry smile. She hadn't been very successful.

When she'd begun to think more rationally after the accident, she realized that Nick's death had hit her father hard. He'd been like a son and some of her father's withdrawal was probably grief. Apparently, he was now planning to drop back into the role of father and adviser.

He'd never change, she realized giving him a warm kiss on the cheek. "How's Mum?"

"Risking life and limb in that hot rod of yours."

A vision of Tam's derision when he'd seen her sports car flashed into her mind. He wouldn't have put it in the hot rod category.

"Am I allowed to look around?" He was already on the prowl giving the reception area a quick once over.

"How would you feel if I arranged for one of our young residents to show you around? I'm sure you could join us later for lunch."

"Sounds pretty good to me."

They walked together to the community hall where they found Mary deep in conversation with Billy. His painstaking efforts were beginning to bear fruit with the piece of wood actually resembling a crocodile.

"I reckon you want to give him a smile." Mary beamed her even white teeth at Billy in a mock reproduction.

Billy's horrified look left her in no doubt what he thought of that idea. "This is meant to be the real thing," he protested, "not some kid's toy."

Mary shrugged, sliding off the table where she had been perched.

Feeling that her intervention was well timed Belinda took Mary by the arm.

"Mary, I'd like you to meet my father, Tony Valentine."

"Told you he was too old for you," Mary said with a cheeky smile.

"I was hoping you'd help me out," Belinda said. "Show Dad around. I promised Tam that I'd go over some charts with him."

"No worries." Mary took Tony's arm and led him away. By the time they had gone a short distance they were deep in conversation

She was quite incredible, Belinda thought, not a trace of self-consciousness. If she ever felt depressed she kept it well hidden. There had to be a lesson in there somewhere.

Mindful of Tam's comment that he wanted to discuss the children's case histories Belinda stayed close to the community center. When he still hadn't shown up at lunch time she decided he must have had more important things to attend to. A picture of Helen flashed into her mind but she banished it. Tam's attitude toward Helen had been more that of a colleague than a lover.

The dining hall was a buzz of activity and conversation. Belinda felt a glow of satisfaction. It was early yet, but Tam's camp project was working out well so far. Mary still had her father in tow, and they were still talking ninety to the dozen.

"Can anyone join this discussion or is it for your ears only?" Belinda said jokingly.

Mary and her father shut up like clams. She looked at them in astonishment. "As a conversation killer that was pretty effective." She cast her father a dubious look. "What were you talking about?"

"What a suspicious girl you are," he said shaking his head. "Mary and I have had a lovely morning. We had just finished our conversation about the role occupational therapy will play in the recovery process."

Wow! Belinda thought, they must have been having a deep and meaningful. She still had a twinge of doubt but what plot could her father, a visitor, and Mary, a very new camp resident, hatch in such a short time. I must be getting paranoid, she thought.

Once they had collected their cafeteria style lunch they sat together at a table for four.

"Been saving me a place?" Tam gave Mary a nudge as he sat down and put his tray on the table.

"Of course," Mary said, quick as a flash. "This is Belinda's Dad."

Tam held out a hand. "Pleased to meet you, Mr. Valentine. No doubt you're wondering what sort of a set up your daughter has joined."

"I'm very impressed." Tony Valentine waved a hand vaguely around. "This whole area has everything. Climate, scenery, tranquillity and the added interest of a working dairy farm." He began to sound like the real estate agent that he was.

"As long as it has the capacity to rehabilitate children whose lives have been threatened by illness, I'll be happy," Tam said.

"It surely can't fail to do that," Tony said. "Recuperating here must have everything going for it."

"Unfortunately a lot of rehabilitation takes place in the mind," Tam said, "and with some of these children that's a closed book."

"Like Lindy, here," Tony said.

Oh, no, Dad, Belinda prayed. Don't give Tam all the gory details of my recovery. It was a vain prayer.

"No way would she talk to us. Confide in us. Bottled it all up. But you're okay now, love, aren't you?"

Belinda gave her father a tight smile. "Of course, Dad. Was Mary a good guide?" Someone had to change the subject before her father gave out all the details of her life, even her shoe size.

"The best," her father said, beaming at Mary, with a definite 'cat with cream' smile.

Something's going on here, Belinda thought. What on earth has Mary been telling him?

She was still curious when her father rose from the table announcing that he'd better head off for Brisbane and attend to his business there.

"What business was that, Dad?" If she had hoped to catch him on the hop, she was disappointed.

"A seminar tomorrow, Lindy. Real Estate, of course. To put it in a nutshell. What's hot and what's not." With a hearty laugh and a pat on her shoulder he took off. "No need to see me off, love. You've got an important role here. I can see that."

"I'll do the honors," Mary said, leading the way to the car park.

Belinda stole a glance at Tam. He had a grin from ear to ear.

"You don't take after him," he said.

"No, I don't," she said. She almost added fortunately, but she loved her father and what made him the way he was and she wasn't about to apologize for him.

"Sorry about this morning," Tam said. "I had those case histories all lined up to discuss with you when a minor crisis erupted."

"One of the children?" Belinda guessed.

"Yes. Just a severe case of homesickness. I've arranged for the parents to call in tomorrow, plus dog."

"Dog!" Belinda smiled.

"Yes. Just pray that they don't all get the idea to include the family pet on visits."

" That could be a problem," she agreed.

"How about this afternoon?"

"That's fine. I'll be in the community hall."

Tam smiled. "You can leave him you know. He's quite a sensible character."

"I know. I must let him fend for himself more. Especially with so many children to set programs for." She looked at Tam wondering if she was inviting trouble. She hesitated, "Billy's seems special somehow."

"Yes," Tam agreed. "He seems especially vulnerable, but when you read the case histories you'll realize that all these children have special needs. Billy is by no means unique."

"Mary?" Belinda asked. "Is she as well adjusted as she seems? She was taking in our conversation about keeping emotions inside at lunch time."

Tam smiled. "Mary's the opposite," he said. "She lets it all hang out. I'm sure if she has any worries she'll confide in us." He looked thoughtful. "More likely in you."

Great! As Tam went off to check on one of his patients, Belinda tried to picture a heart to heart with Mary. She had a fair idea who would be instructing who on the ways of the world.

She glanced around the community hall as she entered. No sign of Billy. Unfinished projects lay around and she decided to clear the table so that she and Tam had an unfettered area to read the charts.

A slow drag of one leg alerted her to Billy's arrival. Sitting carving might be strengthening his arm, but she needed to get him involved in an activity that would strengthen his leg. She looked at him as he plunked down in his seat. "Wouldn't you like a break from carving, Billy?"

He gave her a disgusted glance. "Only got half an hour. I promised Mary I'd go swimming with her. She's scared down in the deep end on her own."

Belinda bit back a smile. "It's good of you to take care of her."

"Yeah! She's old enough to be me Mum."

She laughed at that. "Oh, come off it Billy she's only about four years older than you are."

"Is that right?" He looked shocked.

Leaving him to chew on that, Belinda picked up a pile of craft books. She lifted them above her head to place them on a high shelf. They cascaded to the floor as the pain in her arm temporarily paralyzed her.

"What's wrong?" Billy appeared by her side surprisingly quickly. His face was crumpled with concern.

"It's nothing," she gasped. "You know how Tam told you we all have to make allowances sometimes. I forgot. I've had a sore arm and I forgot that I can't always raise it above my head."

At least it was partly true. It was only since the incident with Venus in the dairy that she could no longer raise her arm above her head. The Technicolor bruising she had noticed the last few days when she was showering, told its own story. No doubt time and some judicious exercise would return her movement to normal.

Belinda dragged up a chair and climbed onto it. "Can you pass me the books, Billy?"

He picked them up without much difficulty and used his good arm to pass her a few at a time. A grin spit his homely face. "Here, between us we've got two good arms."

Belinda laughed. "We make a good team."

"Glad to see you two enjoying what looks like a tidying up exercise."

Belinda teetered for a moment on the chair. Damn, man. He was still sneaking up on her. Of course if the sound of his voice didn't turn her insides to mush, it wouldn't be a problem.

"This is a cooperative effort," Billy announced leaving both Belinda and Tam with their mouths open. It was the most profound statement Billy had uttered so far.

"That's what it's all about," Tam said. "Now Belinda and I need to cooperate on some medical histories so we'll leave you to it."

Tam took Belinda's arm and led her into his nearby surgery. He poured her a cup of coffee from the filter machine and they set to work discussing each child's case history.

It was almost time for the dinner gong when they had finished and Tam stretched his arms above his head. "Sorry it was a bit of a marathon, but you need to know the individual problems faced by each child. They're all different and all need a lot of care and encouragement."

Belinda nodded. Once again she felt humbled by the enormous battles some of the children had fought and their tremendous abilities to rise above disaster.

She rose from her chair. "I'll just do a quick check around and then get cleaned up for dinner."

"I'll see you then," Tam said.

The afternoon seemed to have passed without any drama and Belinda had a quick shower and changed. She looked forward to seeing Tam at dinner. Her anticipation soon turned to disappointment when he didn't show.

"Tam's gone up to the house with Helen," Mary, the font of all knowledge, announced.

The sharp arrow of envy pierced Belinda. So what? He was a free agent. She had no right to feel jealousy. She went back to her cabin and as she sank onto the bed, she wondered if Helen was already issuing her blatant invitation to Tam to share her bed.

Impatiently she got up, and strode over to the small dressing table. With a tug she pulled the clips from her hair. It sprang out in a dark, curling cloud and she attacked it with her hairbrush. After a hundred strokes the anger that she had tried to deny had subsided and her hair shone like well-polished ebony.

She threw the hairbrush down with a clatter. Now what? There were several people helping out in the recreation hall tonight although an extra pair of hands wouldn't go begging. She looked at her hair in the mirror. Definitely not a hairdo designed for the usual evening activities.

Perhaps some music. She moved toward the radio her finger poised above the button.

The loud knock caused her to jump. Her heart did a quick war dance. Trouble with one of the youngsters? She wrenched open the door.

It was trouble all right. Tam stood there clutching something wrapped in a towel.

Chapter Seven

"What's wrong?" Belinda swept her hair back, forgetting in her agitation to use her uninjured arm. Her barely concealed wince did not escape Tam's quiet scrutiny.

"It seems Billy's concern was well founded," he said, gently pushing her inside the cabin and closing the door behind him.

"Billy? Is he okay? What…"

"Billy's fine. Just worried about your arm." Tam unwrapped the bundle he was carrying to reveal a rectangular cloth bag.

"Heat wheat," he said. "It's been in the microwave and is just about the correct temperature. If you sit down I'll drape it over your sore arm."

"But…"

"No buts, Belinda. You promised me that you'd look after your arm. You've obviously been neglecting yourself."

She flushed. Why couldn't he mind his own business? Forcing herself to be calm, she replied. "It's actually my shoulder, and it's stiff that's all. It's still bruised from my encounter with Venus."

She sat on the small sofa as Tam lifted the thick veil of her hair and placed the heated bag on her sore shoulder. Her thin T-shirt was no barrier and immediately she felt the soothing action of the hot wheat.

He sat down beside her. "When your shoulder is suitably warmed up, we might try some gentle exercises. You'd probably know more about that than I do."

She smiled. "I'm an occupational therapist not a physiotherapist but I guess I know enough of the rudiments not to damage myself."

"I guess you do," Tam said, his eyes narrowing as he spoke.

There was a hidden meaning in there somewhere, Belinda thought. Maybe self-damage was a forte of hers. As she sat with the heat on her shoulder, a different, more volatile heat invaded her body. She glanced at the man beside her. He was the trigger, the catalyst for so many new and frightening sensations. She turned away and the bag slid from her shoulder.

Tam stood up and retrieved the bag. He had been sitting on the opposite side to her injured shoulder so Belinda was puzzled when he sat down again still holding the heated wheat.

She drew in a sharp breath when he leaned a long arm behind her and replaced the bag. His arm remained around her and only a dire need for air forced her to slowly expel her breath.

Tam gave her a lazy smile. "Relax. Close your eyes and think pleasant thoughts."

Was that what he was doing? Her thoughts were chaotic and any pleasure they afforded her was strictly of the 'forbidden fruit' kind.

With his free hand he tilted her head onto his shoulder and stroked back her hair. Her lips were almost touching his strong, tanned neck and she felt an overwhelming urge to kiss that skin.

He snuggled her closer and the urge became reality.

She felt him stiffen as her lips caressed his warm neck. It was like a tentative sip of an aphrodisiac and Belinda knew she was out of control. Her tongue lapped gently at his skin and in seconds she was lying back in his arms.

Now it was his lips doing the exploring, the tasting. She felt them moving softly over her eyes, her cheeks, even the tip of her nose, and then they settled on her mouth. She reveled in the gentle sipping caresses responding as she had never responded to a man before, and when the whisper light kisses became demanding she answered those demands.

She willingly opened her mouth to the tasting, stroking brush of his tongue and felt her body temperature escalate with the warm fizzing sensation in her blood. All the while his hand gently stroked her face, her neck, her hair. His large gentle hand settled over her breast, and she felt the first faint stirrings of unease.

Tam Fletcher thought she was an experienced woman. He probably thought that after months of widowhood she was ready to resume a sex life. He certainly came across as a man of experience. Helen! A picture of the vivacious blonde flashed through Belinda's mind and she sat up almost hitting her head against Tam's.

She slid out of his arms. She could feel the flush spread across her face.

"Please…" She began waving her arms in agitation. "I don't know what came over me, I…"

Tam stood up, his face expressionless. "Perhaps, I'm the one who should apologize. I certainly let myself 'go with the flow'. I didn't come here with the intention of seducing you, Belinda. I guess we both have a few emotional hang-ups at present."

The thought that he had come to her from Helen's arms was still uppermost in Belinda's mind. Emotional hang-ups. That was still no excuse to bury his problems in a bed hopping exercise.

"Helen?" God, she hadn't meant to speak her name aloud.

Tam looked startled. "Helen is up at the house. She has a bad migraine. I had to give her an injection."

"Oh!" An unlikely candidate for an amorous evening. Was that why he had come to her? "I'm sorry."

Belinda stood up, uncertain what she was apologizing for. Misjudging Helen? Instigating a romantic interlude that she couldn't control? There was no doubt that Tam had been thoroughly aroused by her actions. Would he regard her as a tease? Or would he add the incident to the long list of hang-ups that he obviously attributed to her? He had said he had a few of his own. Helen? Perhaps he found it difficult to stay in a stable relationship.

Tam tilted her chin. "Don't try to fathom it out, Belinda. We don't have to put our emotions or incidents that involve them into neat categories. There is a strong chemical attraction between us. Leave it at that and let nature take its course."

He dropped a gentle kiss on top of her head and left.

Belinda sank into a chair. A chemical reaction. How convenient. Was that all it meant to him? She had never felt such feelings for another human being. It didn't feel like chemistry to her. Inexperienced as she was, she would have said it felt like love.

What did she know about love? As she undressed, deciding that bed was as good an option as any, Belinda tried to sort out her chaotic thoughts. Putting her emotions in little boxes. Wasn't that what Tam had accused her of?

She slipped a nightdress over her head and slid into bed. There was no doubt that her life had followed a neat pattern, designed and laid out by her father. Now she had to start again, make her own plans; take notice of her own feelings and desires. What could be simpler? Her head touched the pillow and she sighed deeply. Simple for some people perhaps, but she had no idea how to begin.

Sleep was a long time coming, and among the morass of muddled thoughts, one of Tam's statements kept rising to the surface. Let nature take its course. He had said that and Belinda's tired brain kept replaying the words like a stuck record. Did she want nature to take its course? Yes! Yes! The physical side of her psyche had no doubts but emotionally she wanted much more from Tam than physical gratification.

Putting all her thoughts in the 'too hard basket' Belinda willed herself to sleep.

***

The loud hammering on her door would have woken the dead, and Belinda catapulted from her bed, picturing all kinds of emergencies. Still half asleep, she flung open the door.

"It's half past five!" Billy's face swam into focus, his expression reproachful.

"Oh!" Still in a sleep induced stupor it was the best Belinda could come up with.

"Jim'll be here with the tractor any minute, and I wanted to make sure you were coming."

There was a wealth of insecurity beneath Billy's bravado and Belinda knew he wouldn't go to the dairy without her. "You go ahead," she said. "I'll be there in a few minutes."

Despite the warm weather, the tap water was cold and if a few quick splashes to her face hadn't revived Belinda the cool morning air peculiar to the hinterland soon did.

Jim had Venus ready for her and she surprised herself at how quickly she had overcome her fears and learned to milk a cow.

There was no sign of Tam and as they prepared to leave Billy declared himself fit to walk back.

"Good for you," Jim said.

"At least that busy body nurse isn't here, snooping," Billy announced marching toward the shed door.

Belinda rolled her eyes heavenward. Helen wasn't that bad, but it seemed that Jim was no fan of hers either.

"He's right you know," he said. "She was pumping me for information the other day and in the process of telling her you were made of stern stuff I let slip that Venus had landed you in the mire. Sorry lass."

"Don't worry about it Jim. I won't." Belinda gave him a smile as she left to join Billy. So, it hadn't been Tam who had broadcast her shortcomings. Suddenly the sun seemed brighter and the tiredness that had plagued her earlier completely disappeared.

The early morning activity sharpened Billy's appetite. "I could eat a horse," he announced as they walked slowly back to their cabins.

"I'm sure that cereal, eggs and toast will be easier to digest," Belinda said with a grin. A quick glance at his match stick limbs caused her to add, "and a glass of milk."

"Straight from the cow," he announced.

"Probably not," Belinda said. "I imagine it goes away to be pasteurized. Silly isn't it. They probably have to buy their milk at the supermarket."

"However it comes, I'm off to try it." Billy swung toward the large building where they had their meals.

"Not so fast." Belinda shot out an arm and grabbed him. "You can't go to breakfast smelling of cow. It'll only take a few minutes to clean up."

He went off mumbling about fussy females but Belinda had a sneaking suspicion that he was willing to trade the mild lectures for the attention lavished on him.

Her own clean up regime was over in fifteen minutes and she tied her damp hair back in a ponytail. Billy had beaten her to the breakfast table but even her suspicious appraisal couldn't fault his appearance.

Tam stopped by her table on the way out. "How's the shoulder?"

"It's fine." She couldn't detect the slightest embarrassment in his manner. His eyes radiated a warmth and something she couldn't quite fathom. Her heart began to thud as her brain isolated the word she was looking for. Intimacy. His glance had held that something special for her eyes only.

If Billy ate a king-size breakfast then Belinda counter balanced his efforts with her bird like portion. She made her way over to the community hall feeling that where ever she went an invisible link stretched between Tam and her. It felt so good.

Mary was waiting at the door. "Slow coach," she chided. "I finished brekky hours ago. Where's the lad?"

"Still feeding his face. His appetite has returned with a vengeance."

"Good." Mary nodded her head.

Belinda glanced quickly at her, thinking for the umpteenth time what a mature person she was. She couldn't be more than sixteen or seventeen but she had more common sense than a lot of adults.

They began to set out the various activities for the morning as people filtered in, some keen to take on new challenges, others just trying to keep their minds off their health problems.

They were all distracted by the appearance of a man in overalls pushing a trolley laden with two large boxes.

"Belinda Cavallaro?"

If he'd asked for King Kong Belinda couldn't have been more surprised. If Tam had ordered new equipment he'd scarcely have ordered it in her name.

"Where d'ya want it?" Impatience was stamped on the delivery man’s unshaven features and Belinda pointed hastily to a space in the corner.

"Sign here." A grimy delivery note was thrust at her and she hesitated.

"It's all paid for. I just need proof that you got it." Enunciating every word as if he was teaching Grade One English the delivery man shoved the paper, accompanied by a pen this time, in front of her.

Feeling as if she was signing her own death warrant Belinda scrawled her signature on the paper and watched as the man trundled away with the empty trolley.

"Quick! Open them up!" Mary was beside herself with curiosity.

"Oh! I don't think so." Belinda stood looking at the boxes as though something might leap out and bite her. "Tam…" she began.

"To hell with Tam!" Mary started an assault on the tape binding together the flaps of the larger box. "They've got your name on them. If that doesn't make them yours, what does?"

Bowing to the inevitable Belinda nodded her approval still wondering if she was going to be the victim of some horrible joke.

As Mary ripped open the box, Belinda began to wish it was all a joke. The state-of-the-art sewing machine would have run to thousands rather than hundreds of dollars. By the time Mary had revealed the over-locker packed in the second box, Belinda felt that nothing would surprise her. She didn't need Mary to read the brief note although she was hell bent on doing so.

"Donated to Camp Conquest with best wishes from Tony Valentine," she read out with a jubilant whoop. "Isn't your father the greatest?"

"I thought that was Mohamed Ali," Belinda said, with a weak attempt at humor. Why did she feel that her father's generosity would be the instrument that would sever that wonderful new link she had forged with Tam? Perhaps he would accept her father's gift in the spirit it was intended.

As the shock subsided events started to slot into place. A mental picture of Mary and her father, as thick as thieves, flashed through Belinda's mind. She turned toward Mary as she struggled to lift the machine from the box.

"Mary." Belinda put a restraining hand on her arm. "Leave that. It's too heavy. What I want to know is…"

"Perhaps you could shelve your own curiosity for a moment and satisfy mine." Tam's voice held none of the warm intimacy that she had felt at the breakfast table and Belinda knew that he was angry.

"Is this expensive equipment something you plan to work at in your spare time? It does have your name plastered all over the boxes. Perhaps you'd like me to build an equally expensive addition to house it in."

Silently Belinda handed him her father's note.

While Tam digested the brief message, Mary threw herself into the fray.

"We wanted Belinda to teach us to sew, but we had no machine."

"So a word from his darling daughter, and hey presto." Tam tossed the note onto the table. "Didn't it occur to you to ask me first? I'm only the director around here, but I usually okay both projects and the equipment they require."

Damn him, couldn't he put his outraged feelings aside and see the advantages of her father's generosity. "Are you saying the girls aren't to be permitted to sew if they want to? I think it will have many benefits. Perhaps some of the boys might be interested. There are all sorts of things to be made now that we have the means. Kites for instance."

"Sounds like a regular little production company," Tam's voice would have frozen the Pacific. "Perhaps we should have our own label. What logo would you like? Valentine or Cavallaro?"

"Why not any one of the world’s dictators," Belinda said, "they could never see that some of their subordinates had something to offer." If it had been feasible, she would have hurled one of the offending machines at him. So much for trying to overcome one's ancestry. Her mother's temper was alive and well.

Mary was looking decidedly uncomfortable, and Tam turned to leave. "We'll discuss this later," he threw over his shoulder as strode out the door.

"Cripes!" Mary let out a long breath. "What's up with him? You'd think he'd grab any help he can get with both hands."

"Not if it's got the name Valentine or Cavallaro attached to it," Belinda said.

"Why?" Mary looked totally confused.

"I don't really know," Belinda said slowly. "He seems to have a chip on his shoulder. You know the old saying about being born with a silver spoon in your mouth. The silly part is that my father was born dirt poor and worked like a dog to get where he is, and one of his greatest pleasures is sharing his wealth with people he thinks are deserving."

"I reckon he's the best." Mary said. "He treated me like a grown up."

"Mary," Belinda hesitated. The last thing she wanted was to make Mary feel guilty but she had to be the one who told her father about the lack of sewing equipment.

"I didn't ask him for the machines," she said, her agile brain way ahead of Belinda's questions. "I did tell him about wanting to learn to sew. I guess I got a bit carried away. He actually said there was probably a machine or two back at your house and he'd see what he could do. I didn’t expect him to buy flippin' new ones."

Of course, she didn't, but anyone who knew Tony Valentine would know that when he made a gesture it was on a grand scale.

"Come on," Belinda said, "Let's get these unpacked."

"But Tam…" For once Mary's confidence looked a little shaky.

"As you put it so succinctly," Belinda said, "to hell with Tam. He can look a gift horse in the mouth but we're not going to."

As she stretched into the box she realized that hauling a heavy machine out with only one fully operational arm was not going to work.

"Here let me at it." Mary began to shoulder her away, but bravado and bluster were no substitute for strength and Mary was still weak from her illness.

"Need a hand, or a couple of strong arms." Helen appeared from nowhere. "Years of hauling obese patients to a sitting position has given me the strength of an ox," she declared.

Between the three of them, they had the machines unloaded and set up on the table in a short time. Helen ran her eye over the sophisticated equipment. She spied the notice written in Tony's flamboyant hand. She shook her head.

"Naughty, naughty. Taking the law into your own hands. Tam won't like it."

"Tough!" Belinda surprised herself. Her determination to bring some degree of happiness and a return of self-confidence to her patients suddenly out-weighed Tam's disapproval.

She refused to acknowledge the small spark of happiness and anticipation that slowly withered and died somewhere deep inside her. If Tam's feelings for her were so shallow that a dent in his pride could douse them, she was better off coming to terms with that now. He had called it chemistry. Somewhere the equation had gone wrong and she would just have to accept that.

Conscious of the other camp residents needing her attention Belinda explained to Mary that she couldn't devote her entire time to organizing a sewing class.

"Hand me the instructions," Helen said. "I've got an hour to spare. I can at least set the machines up."

As Belinda bent over a group absorbed in turning out a variety of strange looking pots she heard an anguished yelp.

"Yikes!" Helen was waving the instruction book at her. "You need at least one University Degree, preferably engineering to even thread this thing up."

"Don't sell yourself short," Belinda said. "You'll cope."

Two hours later they had the machines set up. "Just one small hitch now," Belinda said. "We need some fabric."

"That shouldn't be a problem," Helen said. "We're not that far from civilization. One of us can get to the nearest shopping center."

"Yes, I guess so." Belinda brushed her hair out of her eyes. It had been a traumatic morning and Helen's calm common sense had been a real help. So, why didn't she feel grateful?

Belinda doused her feelings of guilt. She was feed up with feeling guilty. If she couldn't bring herself to trust Helen and feel some affinity toward her then that was that.

Chapter Eight

Belinda squinted at the seam she was ripping. It was eleven o'clock at night and the overhead light had not been designed for illuminating the fine work she was doing. She sighed. Undoing was a better description. Even with the best will in the world the girls couldn't sew without making mistakes. What she was doing was becoming a nightly ritual.

She let her thoughts replay over the activities of the past few days. It had been worth the trauma of teaching several people to sew at the same time. The girls had flocked into the sewing classes eager to learn a new skill and to throw themselves into a normal, even mundane experience.

Belinda suspected that to be part of a fairly commonplace past time made them feel that they were slotting into the normal, ordinary side of life again. She could only imagine the devastation that a diagnosis like cancer could cause and she felt humbled that they coped so well.

"I don't think my insurance policy will run to a Seeing Eye dog."

Belinda swung around. Tam was inches behind her. How long had he stood there watching her patiently picking away at the distorted seam?

"We'd better see about a spot light," he said, leaning over to remove the material from her fingers.

"Oh! I don't think that's necessary," she hastened to assure him. The whole project was getting out of hand. She thought of Helen's excursion to the shops where she'd bought large quantities of material, all paid for by Tam. Helen had squashed her protest with a blithe, "He might've had to pinch and scrape once but he's got heaps of money now."

"I do," he said. "I'm the first to admit that your project is working wonders for the emotional recovery of several of our patients. I'm not sure if they'll be making much of a fashion statement, but that's irrelevant."

"Give them time," Belinda said, trying not to sound sharp. Confidence was an important end result of her project and she wasn't having anyone criticize the garments the girls turned out. "With a bit of luck they'll be able to put on a mini-fashion parade."

Tam frowned. "You're not joking, are you?"

"No. It would be up to the girls. They may not want to expose themselves to public scrutiny."

"I wouldn't bet on it." Tam smiled. "They seem to have few inhibitions at present."

"Isn't that a good thing?" Belinda looked up at him. He was lounging back against the table, a shadowy figure in the poor light. "Doesn't their lack of inhibition show that your scheme is working?"

He seemed to reflect on her statement for quite a while before answering.

"Possibly, but there is no doubt that a lengthy stay in hospital, and coping with a life threatening illness, overcomes many inhibitions. As a quick trip to maturity, it is an ironclad guarantee."

"Their situation certainly makes one count one's blessings," Belinda said, more to herself than Tam.

"Does it?" His look was doubting.

"It makes me appreciate what I have."

"Ah! But you have so much."

"So do you." She felt the familiar resentment that his jibes about her wealth always engendered. "You seem to think that because you worked hard for your success that you're so much more deserving of it. Believe me being born wealthy, and for your information, I wasn't, doesn't ensure happiness."

"So it would seem," Tam said. "Neither of us seems to be able to overcome the hump of our emotional predicaments to get the best out of life."

He leaned over and took her hands in his pulling her up out of the chair. "It's way past your bedtime, Belinda. I think we'll give the psychoanalysis a miss tonight. It's not my forte, anyway."

No, she thought, but he obviously felt he had some psychological hurdles to overcome. Her brain threw up a hotchpotch of suggestions. Had he had an unhappy love affair? Helen? Did he have an unhappy childhood? A broken marriage? She sighed. It was too late and she was too tired to sort out the enigma that Tam Fletcher presented.

He was still holding her hands in his, and for a moment he drew he close. She rested her head on his shoulder for a second and then he gently turned her toward the door. Throwing an arm around her shoulders, he led her out of the community hall and toward her cabin.

They walked in silence. Belinda's thoughts churned trying to make sense of their strange relationship. Sometimes she thought that Tam disliked her and everything he apparently thought she represented, but then he was definitely attracted to her. Was it just a physical thing? She had no idea. At times, it seemed almost as if they were kindred spirits and then he would make some snide remark about her background. They had reached her cabin. Belinda sighed. It was all beyond her.

Tam turned her again to face him. "Is it getting any easier?"

She lifted her head to look into his eyes. It was too dark to see his expression. "Is what getting any easier?"

"Rebuilding your life. Without the man you loved. Going it alone, when you had expected to share your life with someone. Believe me, Belinda I do know what it's like."

So he had lost someone he loved. There was a bond between them. Like a sudden icy blast her conscious kicked in. But you didn't love Nick, it taunted. She closed her eyes in distress. Not once that day had she even thought of Nick. Her thoughts were more likely to center on Tam.

She felt his lips touch her eyelids. Soft butterfly kisses. "It's all right, sweetheart," he murmured. "Don't try too hard. Just let time do the work. " His mouth trailed gently down her cheek to settle on her mouth. It wasn't a kiss of passion or sensuality but rather a healing kiss. It offered comfort and perhaps strength. There was no doubt that Tam had his own emotional battles but he was coping in his own way and now he was offering her support and encouragement.

Guilt swept over her in waves. She thought it had gone, but it lay dormant to be rekindled in moments such as these. Moments when she reveled in being in Tam's arms. Moments when she wanted much more than that. What kind of a person was she?

She broke contact with him, shaking her head. "Tam, it's late. I have to go."

He released her at once, leaning over to open her cabin door. As she went inside, she heard his whispered, "Sleep tight." She doubted that she would sleep at all.

As each of her problems jostled for first place in her over stressed mind, Belinda realized that one problem had ceased to exist. Tam's resentment over her father's gift seemed to have dissipated and he seemed quite happy about her sewing classes.

***

"I reckon you've blotted your copy book again." Helen looked up from the pattern she was pinning and nodded toward the window.

Belinda could see Tam striding toward the community hall. Why Helen should point the finger at her she had no idea unless Helen knew something that she didn't. She hadn't seen much of Tam since the night he'd walked her to her cabin and she wondered if he'd regretted lowering his guard to offer her comfort.

"Belinda. Can you leave what you're doing?" Tam reached the table where a group of girls hovered seeking help. Helen was coping without fuss. She seemed to be able to dispense advice without letting the buzz of questions and the yelps of anguish rattle her. She gave Belinda an 'I told you so look' as she followed Tam into his office.

"You've been here for almost two weeks," Tam said.

He certainly had his facts right but Belinda couldn't see what he was driving at. Unless… Was he about to list her inadequacies? Perhaps he wanted her to leave?

She dredged up some confidence with an effort. He had said her sewing project was helping and she hadn't neglected her other patients. She had no reason to feel inadequate.

"You're long overdue for a break," Tam said. "Didn't Helen suggest you have a night or two up at the house? There's plenty of videos or music if you want to spend a few relaxing hours."

Helen certainly hadn't mentioned a break but she wasn't going to tell Tam that. No doubt Helen assumed that Belinda would use her common sense and ask if she needed a respite.

"I appreciate your enthusiasm and dedication," Tam said, his green eyes flashing with amusement. No doubt her expressive face had given him a series of pictures of her doubts and fears. "But driving yourself into the ground isn't going to help anyone."

"I've also been guilty of working non-stop," he added. "How about we play hookey?"

"What do you mean?"

"I want to check out a water hole where Andrew and I used to swim. Perhaps it could be stocked with fish or yabbies. Some people find fishing quite therapeutic."

Belinda couldn't quite repress the shudder. Her father had insisted on taking her fishing but after putting back some perfectly good eating fish because he couldn't stand her tears he abandoned her company and went on his own.

"But not you, Belinda. Not if that distressed shudder is any indication. If it makes you feel any happier I'm not a fisherman myself."

"Then why…? Why promote something you don't enjoy?"

"I've been asked several times if there's anywhere to 'wet a line'. Not so much by the patients as the volunteer staff. Fishing is a recreational activity and if some of the staff want to share those skills then I don't want to stand in judgment."

Belinda nodded. He had a point and they needed all the interests they could get to stimulate some of the children. "You're right, of course."

"Not of course," he said with a wry smile. "I'm the first to admit that I make mistakes."

And misjudgments, she added silently. Had he changed his opinion of her? At least he was willing to share her company for an hour or so.

"Come on," he said, "let's get organized. I'll ask Helen to direct the ladies sewing circle."

"But I'm usually here to supervise the other children. Some of them can't be left to cope on their own."

"Ask some of the volunteers to supervise. Most of them have a medical background. Anything you have doubts about can be canceled for today."

"Oh! I don't think I should…"

Tam didn't allow her to finish. "Belinda, everyone deserves time off. This is a holiday farm not a slave labor camp."

***

Half an hour later they were in Tam's Land Rover bumping over a worn track. In that time he had issued instructions to the volunteer staff and organized Helen to run the sewing classes and supervise some of the other activities that Belinda had established.

Helen's expression had said it all. Her eyes signaling the message. What a cheek! Belinda was inclined to agree with her. Helen was after all the camp nurse and her offer to help with the sewing had been a generous one.

"I don't know that it was fair to expect Helen to fill in for me," she began.

"Of course it's fair." Tam said.

"But she's the nurse."

"Belinda, in this camp we are all more than just what we are professionally trained for. I feel as if I'm counselor, father figure, and mother sometimes."

"But what if…"

"Forget about what if," Tam said. "Life's full of what ifs. If a situation arises where Helen needs to wear her nurse's hat, she'll cope. She'll have the sewing class out on its ear before you could sneeze. I've left a final year medical student to cope with any emergencies. I hope he doesn't receive a baptism of fire, but I need to have a break and recharge my batteries."

Belinda slid a glance toward him, her face still doubtful.

Tam laughed. "Worry wart. If it makes you feel more relaxed I've got my mobile phone."

"Oh! Why didn't you say so?"

"I just did. Now stop all this fretting. Look at the beauty all around us. Forgetting this God awful track."

The Land Rover chose that particular moment to become almost airborne and Belinda laughed despite bumping her head on the roof. Any pain was more than compensated for when she fell against Tam, feeling the hard warmth of his upper arm, inhaling deeply the aroma of after-shave and masculinity.

Tam threw her an apologetic grin and concentrated on keeping the four-wheel drive vehicle on the track. He'd been right about the scenery, Belinda thought. The colors were so vibrant. Rolling green hills surrounded them, their slopes thick with lush grass, a contrast to the drought season when the grass became a tinderbox to ignite and feed the dangerous bush fires that often prevailed.

A rainbow lorikeet flashed by, its brightly colored plumage outlined vividly against a dazzling blue sky. Belinda tried to dredge up that saying that ended with 'All's right with the world'.

At that particular moment her world felt wonderful. Her feelings of guilt about Nick were dissipating again. She had tried to do the right thing by marrying him.

Slowly she began to realize that her upbringing had stressed importance on her part in the family and fulfilling obligations. Despite Tam's criticisms, she realized that he made her think of herself as an individual. Even little decisions she had made, Billy and the woodcarving, Mary and the sewing classes, they had all strengthened her confidence.

Tam brought the vehicle to a halt under a large gum tree. "We need to walk now."

"Wasn't this a long way for you and Andrew to come for a swim?" Belinda slid down the steep embankment only saved from the indignity of sliding on the seat of her pants, when Tam put his hands under her arms and guided her down.

"We were teenagers when we came here. We had a couple of old trail bikes. And, yes, before you ask, we could both swim like the proverbial fish."

"It's so peaceful." Belinda stood silently listening to the unique sounds of the Australian bush-land. "I can hear a green cat bird," she said. "You'd swear it was a baby crying."

Tam laughed. "Many’s the tourist who's fallen for that subterfuge."

Belinda sat on a flat rock and pulled off her sneakers. Tentatively she dipped her toes in the water. "It's quite cold, " she said.

"It always was," Tam said. "It's fed by an underground stream. "Watch out for the eels."

"Oh!" she swung her feet up onto the rock.

Tam shook his head. "You shouldn't believe everything you're told, Belinda. I've yet to come across an eel in here."

"That wasn't fair," she said, sliding her feet back in the water.

"No. But life isn't exactly fair is it Lindy? I'm sure you'd be the first to admit it can be a bitch at times."

His cynical statement was tempered by his use of her pet name. He seemed to be at war with himself and his relationship with her. Sometimes he was all sympathy and at other times, he seemed to imply that she'd brought all her troubles on herself.

"I need some bottles from the car," he said, turning away abruptly. " Enjoy your paddle."

By the time he reached her side again, bottles clinking in a plastic bag, she was standing in the water, her jeans rolled up to her knees. "There's quite a bit of marine life, here," she said. " I saw a tortoise and there are a few small fish darting around."

"Sounds like a good omen," Tam said taking one of the bottles and filling it with water. "Looks a bit murky but that may be what the fish fancy. I'll get some testing done."

He opened the plastic bag and drew out a large lunch box. "Sandwiches," he announced. Another delve into the bag produced a bottle of mineral water in a protective vacuum sleeve. It was still cold and Belinda gratefully accepted a paper cupful.

"That's so good," she said draining the cup. Tam tipped the bottle toward her cup and refilled it.

"It came from around here," he said. "The mineral water," he added when she looked puzzled.

"There's a spa near here?"

"Yes," Tam removed the sleeve and showed her the label. It was called, "Bonny Hills Mineral Water".

"That's the name of your property," she said.

"Yes, but the land with the spa was sold a few years ago. My brother realized he didn't have the funds to develop the spa, especially as it needed intensive investigation before the water could be sold to the public."

"What a pity," Belinda said.

"No need to fret," Tam said. "Andrew drove a hard bargain and the value of the spa was reflected in the price tag."

"But you regret selling the land?" she asked.

"No. I agreed with Andrew's decision. If you want brutal honesty, I was too wrapped up in my own plans and dreams to give much thought to Andrew's."

"But he was happy farming, wasn't he?"

"He didn't get the opportunity to try anything else." He paused for a moment.

"Who knows what he could have done with his life." He lay back against a rock and closed his eyes.

"It wasn't to be," Belinda said, putting her hand on his arm.

His eyes flew open and the pain was so deep Belinda felt it herself. She pressed his arm. "It's not your fault."

His reaction shocked her as he sat upright, thrusting her hand and her sympathy away. "Isn't it?" His mouth twisted with self-derision. "Andrew didn't have a chance. My parents spent their time lauding my achievements. Oh, Tam's the clever one. Tam must be allowed to continue his studies. Tam's definitely specialist material. "

"But…" Belinda tried to stem the stream of self-torture.

He went ruthlessly on. "So Tam became a doctor, and a specialist, while Andrew did everything to keep the only thing he had, the farm, afloat. He did it by smart farming and even smarter disposal of some of his assets. He showed intelligence that probably outstripped mine, and a strength for survival that is far more use in this world than academic achievement."

But he didn't survive. Belinda longed to ask how he had met his death but Tam's diatribe had come to an end. He stood up took her hands in his and pulled her to her feet.

"Sorry" he said. "Today's a hair shirt day. It must be something to do with this place. Too many memories."

They drove back in silence and Belinda thought how much Tam's anguish mirrored her own. Her gut feeling was that it was his brother he meant when he talked about losing a loved one. She had imagined a romantic attachment but there could be just as much love at stake in a family situation, especially when that family member had been so supportive and sacrificed some of his own dreams.

Tam wasn't selfish or uncaring. Quite the opposite, so why couldn't he come to terms with his life. Perhaps he had been a bit self-absorbed but medical training required total dedication and it didn't sound as if Andrew had been unhappy.

The feeling that she didn't have the complete picture became uppermost in Belinda's mind. There was a piece of the puzzle missing. A mental picture of Helen kept intruding. She had to fit somewhere.

The track was beginning to level out and Tam glanced at her, "That's a fierce look of concentration. This is your time to relax not solve the world's problems and that includes mine."

She drew in a sharp breath. "I just don't think you should torture yourself over the past."

"Life goes on and all the familiar clichés. Is that what you're saying?" He was looking ahead now but she could picture the bitter twist to his mouth.

"Isn't that what you told me to do." The scene in the kitchen came into her mind and she remembered his words. "Replace old memories with new ones."

"Did I say that? Perhaps I should start taking my own advice." He pulled into the campsite and switched off the engine. "And have you? Replaced the old memories with new ones."

"No. But I've come to terms with the old ones and they don't haunt me any more." She realized as she spoke how much truth there was in her words. Whatever was past was better left there. If she had made mistakes it hadn't been deliberate and Tam's situation was the same. She could help him just as he had helped her.

She turned to get out of the vehicle when he put a hand on her arm. "No going to check up on things," he said. "I meant it when I said you needed some time off. You collect some fresh clothes and your night attire and I'll drive you up to the house."

"But I'm perfectly all right in my cabin."

Tam laughed. "Is this the same Belinda Cavallaro that I interviewed a short time ago? Lack of privacy seemed to be a big worry if I read the signs correctly."

"A lot can happen in a couple weeks," she said. "I enjoy having people drop into my cabin."

"Dropping in is one thing," Tam said with feeling. "My cabin seems like Spencer Street Station sometimes. I'm looking forward to a night away."

She choked back the gasp of shock. He was planning to stay up at the house too. Just the two of them? If that was the case, just what did he have planned?

Chapter Nine

Belinda hesitated, her hand poised over the cotton nightdress in her wardrobe. There was a cream silk nightie hanging beside the cotton one. It was trimmed with lace and very sexy. She turned away in exasperation. She didn't need sexy night attire and she didn't want to question her motive in bringing it with her.

It had been part of her trousseau and she really didn't know why she had brought it to the camp. It was entirely unsuitable, and brought back unhappy memories.

Turning back she snatched the offending article from the hanger and threw it into her overnight-bag. Her guilt trip was over. Life had to go on and she should be able to wear what she liked without putting herself through an intensive cross-examination. As she pulled the garment from the bag and folded it carefully before replacing it, she assured herself that she had always liked good clothes and enjoyed wearing them.

She changed into a loose plain white dress and flat tan shoes and after a quick glance around the cabin she closed the door and walked over to the dusty vehicle.

Tam was walking toward her. He had obviously been doing what he had forbidden her to do and checked on his stand-in's progress.

"Everything is under control," he said as he opened the passenger door for her. "Before you say a word, I know I said no checking up, but my substitute is relatively inexperienced and I had an uneasy feeling about one of the boys."

"Is he sick?" She couldn't imagine Tam abdicating his responsibilities if he had worries about one of his patients.

He turned toward her as he climbed into the vehicle. "Absolutely nothing I can put my finger on. He is joining in everything and assures me he feels fine. As a matter of fact he looked at me as if I had lost my marbles when I insisted on giving him a check up." He hesitated a moment and then gave an apologetic laugh. "Blame my Scottish heritage but sometimes I get odd feelings about things and I can't dismiss them. The last thing I want to do is communicate my irrational fears to young Ben."

Belinda drew in a deep breath. He was quite an enigma, Tam Fletcher. She would never have attributed him with being 'fey' as the Scots described their odd premonitions and even less would she have believed that he would admit it. "I don't think you're being irrational," she said. "A lot of medical diagnosis is done on feelings, even hunches. Not that I'm suggesting Ben is ill."

"No, I don't think he is and I'm probably being overcautious. I can't do any more or he'll become a nervous wreck and that's the last thing I want."

He dismissed the subject and started up the engine. It took no time at all to reach the house, and as they climbed the steps to the front verandah Belinda remember that first night she had spent there and the meal she and Tam had shared.

His thoughts must have run along the same lines. "I'll cook," he said.

"Why?" Belinda gave him a challenging look. "Don't you think I can rustle up a meal?"

"Of course. I just want you to have some relaxation."

"Then I'll cook. I always find cooking therapeutic."

Tam laughed. "You win. Have it your own way."

As she gave him a small triumphant grin, he added. "Why do I get the impression you usually get your own way?"

"Not at all," she countered. A mental picture of her father and Nick flashed through her mind. Tam was wrong. She had been easily manipulated by two people who she didn't doubt loved her but felt that they knew what was best for her.

Tam stood back for her to go through the door, but he put a hand on her arm. "I didn't mean to touch a raw nerve," he said. "Your face is so readable. There's nothing wrong with a bit of old fashioned spoiling within a family."

Is that how he saw her? The original spoilt brat.

"Spoilt people are usually self-centered," she said abruptly, "I don't think I'm self-centered." As soon as the words had left her mouth, she began to have doubts. Wasn't her preoccupation with guilt self-centered?

She couldn't suppress the sigh that hissed from her lips and Tam gave her a gentle shove through the door. "Enough introspection for one day on both our parts," he said. "Tonight is our night off. What culinary delight can I anticipate for dinner?"

"That depends on the store cupboard," Belinda replied.

"You don't have to begin at once," Tam said following her into the kitchen.

"I like to plan ahead." She delved into the pantry and came out with pasta, tomato paste and a variety of ingredients. "Do you have fresh herbs," she asked without much expectation of an affirmative answer.

He waved a hand in the direction of the back yard. "There's still a few herbs battling for survival in my mother's cottage garden."

Belinda went out the back and blessed the tenacity of the oregano and basil that still soldiered on. There was parsley and mint and garlic chives, a veritable treasure trove to an Italian cook.

"I see you had some success," Tam smiled as she came back to the kitchen with a large collection of fresh herbs.

"Wonderful," she said.

"You look like a child in a toy shop," Tam said. "Do small things usually give you pleasure?"

"Of course they do. I told you. We weren't always well off and my parents have never approved of waste."

Tam gave her a puzzled look but his, "I'm off to have a shower," was clear enough. If he had reversed his earlier poor opinion of her, he wasn't admitting it.

The lasagna was one of the best she'd ever made, and Tam produced a red wine to go with it. Afterwards they delved into the huge freezer like two excited children each coming out with a favorite treat.

"What took your fancy?" Tam asked waving a small tub of expensive liqueur flavored ice-cream.

"Frozen peaches," Belinda said. "They'll thaw while I stack the dish washer."

"A good combination," Tam said, his eyes narrowing slightly. He seemed in a relaxed, happy mood, and she felt that his comment might have a double meaning.

She gave the peaches a helping hand on the 'Defrost' cycle of the microwave and they took their dessert and a tray of fragrant smelling coffee into the lounge.

"That was wonderful," Tam said when they had finished their coffee. "You're quite an accomplished person, Belinda."

"I like to cook," she said. "I suppose I'm rather domesticated at heart. Cooking, sewing and one day I'll have a lovely garden."

"Don't your parents have a lovely garden?"

"Yes, but it's the domain of Fred, our gardener and he won't let me near it."

"Poor little rich girl." His smile took the malice from his words, but Belinda felt that for some reason her wealthy background really bugged him.

"Money doesn't buy happiness," she said.

"No, of course not. Didn't your marriage give you a tilt at domesticity? You must have had a garden or did you live in a unit?"

She drew in a deep breath. He had just presented her with the perfect opportunity to tell him the truth about her marriage.

"Tam about my marriage. I… I…" Her voice petered out as he placed long slim fingers against her lips.

"Remember, Lindy, no introspection tonight. I sense you are coming to terms with the loss of your husband and I think we should leave it at that."

She sat silently. What could she say? She had come to terms with losing Nick and her own guilt. Whatever she had done, it had seemed the right thing at the time although with a maturity gained from trauma she would never allow anyone to map out her life again.

Tam was staring into space. "I, too, am coming to terms with the events of the past…years. The camp has helped fill a void in my life that stretched like an abyss. I feel that I have something to contribute to life again and that I am not just one of life's takers."

"That's a terrible indictment to level against yourself," she said. "Every doctor is a giving person with the medical help he gives to his patients, saving lives sometimes."

"Doctors lose lives sometimes, don't forget that." Tam seemed to have donned his hair shirt again and she felt at a loss to know how to help him.

Unconsciously she put her hands out and he took them in his. "Hey we weren't going to do this. Let's change the subject. Gardens, now that's a safe topic. Ideally, I'd like to refurbish the gardens around the house here and landscape around the cabins. Perhaps some of the more robust patients might like to help."

"That's a wonderful idea," she said. The wonder for her was in the touch of his fingers causing little sparks of current at every pressure point. Why did he have this effect on her? Why did she want to take him in her arms, smooth away his troubles, give him her support, her love?

She froze, biting her lip. Love? Was this what love was like? She gazed down at her small hands encased in his and then up at his green eyes. She knew. At that moment, she knew that Tam meant everything to her. Oh, there was no doubt that she loved him. She looked away quickly withdrawing her hands. If he looked into her eyes he would see that love bouncing back at him and she knew it would be the last thing that he wanted.

He might be attracted to her physically, even be beginning to like her, but love… No, he wasn't ready to love anyone at the moment and when he was it would be more likely to be someone like Helen, straight forward, uncluttered by her emotions and familiar with his background and moods.

She wasn't sure about Helen. Perhaps it was a case of 'been there, done that' with Tam and Helen, but even so, broken romances can be mended and maybe a broken relationship with Helen was part of Tam's problem.

He was looking at her strangely. "You look as if you've seen a ghost," he said.

She shook her head both in answer to his question and to clear it. Coming to terms with her new found love would be just another hurdle to jump. She stifled the sigh that almost escaped. If she had gained nothing else from the past twelve months then she had learned to hide her deepest feelings and to carry on with life in difficult circumstances.

"No ghosts," she said. That was true enough. Nick's ghost had been well and truly laid and although she felt sad that his young life had been cut short, she knew that it was part of her past.

Would Tam be part of the future? He was an integral part of hers now that she realized how deeply her feelings were involved but she had a sinking feeling that he wouldn't be playing the role in her future that she had cast him in.

"Dishes," she announced with a forced enthusiasm. "I'll take care of these." She picked up the loaded tray and headed for the kitchen. Loading the dishwasher and tidying the kitchen filled in a short space of time and when she went back into the lounge Tam had put some restful music on.

"Beethoven," he said. "I hope you're a fan."

"Yes. I prefer the classics although I can handle most types of music. Considering the taste of some of our young camp dwellers, that's just as well."

They discussed their 'kids' and their uncertain futures. "Most of them will be okay," Tam said. "It's sometimes the ones you least expect to pull through that surprise you, and that's always a bonus."

A loud crack of thunder brought their conversation to a sudden halt and Belinda got up and walked over to the window. "There's quite a storm brewing," she announced, as lightning forked through the sky lighting, up the window and causing her to step back hastily.

Her startled cry broke the sudden silence as the storm paused to draw breath. Tam's arms wound around her from behind. He must have moved quietly, while she was fascinated by the storm.

"Scared?" he asked as he pulled her back against him.

"No," she said. "I've never been afraid of storms."

He didn't lessen his hold and she felt his lips brush the top of her head.

Why? Why did he have to do this? She felt sure that it meant little to him and to her it was like being given a treat only to have it snatched away again.

She turned in his arms. "Tam." The second clap of thunder sent a jolt through her. All her senses were finely tuned, and the nervousness that she had denied surfaced but it had little to do with the storm.

She looked into his eyes, struggling for normality. "Are you afraid of storms, Tam?"

His eyes twinkled with silent laughter. "If I say yes, will you let me go on holding you? Better still would you hold me?"

She shook her head. He had turned an emotionally charged moment into a light-hearted one and she accepted that. It was better that way.

The sudden banging of a window put the finale to their little drama and Tam released her to go and secure the house against the rain and wind.

It was all over in ten minutes and Tam grumbled that there was precious little water in all the commotion and that the farm wouldn't benefit at all.

As he stood at the window summing up the weather forecast Belinda decided to take the coward's way out and go to bed.

She managed a reasonable imitation of a yawn. "I'll take a shower and go to bed."

If he was surprised at her sudden exit, he kept it well hidden. "Sure," he said. "That's the whole point of the exercise. R&R."

Rest and Recuperation. Who was he kidding? She felt about as rested as a marathon runner, and it would take a lifetime to recuperate from the discovery that she loved him.

The hot shower eased some of the tension from her body and as she let the frothy lace nightie whisper over her head, she glanced in the mirror. 'All dressed up and no where to go' had never been more apt. She looked every inch the siren, with her hair swirling in a dark mass around her face, her large violet eyes still round in wonder at her new found love.

Impatiently she turned away. Bed and a book was a poor substitute for a night of passion but then she hadn't expected that anyway.

***

The loud crash startled her and she shot out of bed. It seemed hours since she had fallen into a restless sleep, her book abandoned.

"What was it?" She met Tam still fully clothed in the hall.

"I think a branch came down on the old gum tree. Hopefully it missed the roof."

He disappeared out the back door and she followed him, oblivious to the tempting picture she presented in her sexy night attire.

She was standing on the bottom step when he came back. "It's okay," he said. "Side swiped the old garden shed. It needed pulling down, so it's no loss."

His voice petered out and she realized he was staring at her. After a long pause he shook his head impatiently. "For God's sake, Lindy, it's raining and you're wearing next to nothing."

She turned away quickly, her cheeks burning. On the top step she tripped and he was beside her his arm around her waist holding her steady. He guided her inside and slammed the door shut.

It was like the door slamming shut on all her inhibitions and she turned in the circle of Tam's arm and looked up at him.

She knew he wanted her, as much as she wanted, needed, him. There was fire in his eyes. The white-hot fire of desire. He pulled her tightly against him and his mouth descended. The first touch of his lips was like being reborn. She drank in his kisses like a new baby suckles its mother but there was nothing childlike in the sensations that racked her body.

Her hunger was more than matched by his. His kisses were no gentle prelude to entice, to encourage. They demanded, tasted and stoked a matching fire in her.

Her soft moan welcomed the warmth of his tongue in her mouth. There was no drawing back from the intimacy, from the vibrant sensations of being at one with another human being. It felt right. It belonged.

Tam finally broke contact, sweeping her up into his arms. His voice was hoarse with emotion. "I can't, won't fight this any more, Lindy. From the first moment I saw you I needed you, wanted you. God, you have no idea how I've fought against it."

Her hands tightened against his shoulders. Needed, wanted. No suggestion of love. The reasons for his internal struggle against the inevitable could have been legion. She gazed into his desire clouded eyes. What ever he had to give her she was going to take it.

Her entire life had been lived to a pattern cut and placed by people she loved. People who thought they knew what was best for her. She gripped Tam tightly by the shoulders. She could feel his strength. He was right for her. Even if it was only one shared night. It was right.

Chapter Ten

He carried her into his bedroom. She vaguely noticed the king-size bed. Still neatly made up. Obviously he hadn't made any attempt to go to bed earlier. Her brain teasing was lost in the storm of emotions he created. He stood by the bed dropping gentle kisses over her face.

He lowered her to the floor keeping one arm tightly around her as he threw back the covers.

"You're damp," he said skimming long lean fingers down her nightdress. He drew it over her head leaving her feeling more vulnerable that she had ever felt in her life.

"Tam, I..." Her words were lost in his kisses as he pulled her tightly against him.

"Shhh." His hands gentled her as she stiffened, uncomfortable with the unfamiliarity of standing nude before him.

He eased slightly back, "So beautiful, Lindy," he breathed as he took in the soft curves of her small body. He lifted her and placed her gently in the bed.

In minutes he was undressed and lying beside her. As his arms enclosed her, pulling her in close, her senses went haywire. The sensation of his skin against hers was mind-blowing. Suddenly she felt afraid. It was all so unfamiliar and it was happening too fast. Much too fast.

She put her hands on his shoulders and gripped hard. She could feel the strength beneath the smooth taut skin. She needed that strength. "Tam... I'm afraid."

"Shh." He stroked her hair back from her face and looked into her eyes. "I won't hurt you, Lindy. You don't have to tell me there's been no one since Nick died."

She gasped with shock. He had it all wrong. "But Nick and I.… We...."

The words were in her brain but her mouth just refused to speak them.

"You had something special," Tam said compounding the confusion. "I know Lindy, but Nick's no longer here, and I believe that in our own way we could have something just as special."

Belinda drew in a sharp breath. Was he talking about love? Or was he referring to something on a physical plane. As his hands spoke for him she stopped thinking and started feeling.

He began slowly. His fingers lightly stroked her cheek, her throat and moved to gently caress her breasts. Her lids dropped over her eyes as she gave herself up to sensations that were all new and almost hypnotic.

Her eyes flew open as his mouth replaced his fingers. The warmth of his tongue as it slid over her taut nipples made her fingers and toes curl. Her hands clenched against his chest.

"Touch me, sweetheart," he said, his voice husky with desire.

She slid her hand tentatively over the silken curls covering his chest, and as her fingers stroked gently over his flat nipples she felt them harden and peak. She pulled her fingers back as if she'd been burned, shocked that he could react in the same way as she.

Her reaction startled Tam. He drew back for a moment looking into her eyes. She could see bewilderment in his.

"What is it?" he asked. "You're not afraid of me, Lindy?" He sounded hurt, disappointed.

"No, of course not. I just feel ... I don't know. Shy, I suppose."

"There's no need to be," he said and she felt his mouth smiling against her cheek. "I think we've come too far down the track to be feeling shy with each other."

As his fingers slid down to explore the more intimate parts of her body she realized that what he said was all too true. They were committed to making love and she wanted it to happen. If only she knew what she was about she thought ruefully. As his fingers targeted the center of her pleasure she reassured herself that Tam knew exactly what he was about.

Her mind became a storehouse of sensations, all wonderful, as Tam stroked, kissed and worshipped every part of her body. She felt herself teetering on the edge of ecstasy and intuitively she recognized that Tam's control was becoming impossibly strained. She tugged his body over hers murmuring his name and he joined them in one strong thrust.

Nothing could have prevented the shaft of pain or her gasped reaction, but it was Tam's reaction that shook her. His explosive, "What the hell...?" He began to withdraw and she startled herself. "No!" She held him close. "Please Tam. It's what I want."

He seemed to hesitate but his eyes were still clouded with desire and he gathered her in close and began to move within her. In seconds the pain was forgotten and the pleasure returned a hundred-fold. Belinda gave herself up to the sheer joy of floating in a sea of emotion. Small waves of ecstasy began to roll over her heightening to an almost frightening pitch until she was tossed into a turbulence of undreamed of pleasure. Somewhere in the haze of her excitement she was aware that Tam's reactions had mirrored her own.

As her pounding heart slowed and she slowly returned to normal, Belinda turned her face up to Tam's. God, how she loved him. If he were any kind of a mind reader he would see that love shining from her eyes.

As her gaze locked onto his the look of love in her eyes was quickly extinguished to be replaced with trepidation. There was no afterglow in his eyes from the warmth of their lovemaking, only a piercing anger.

"Why, Lindy? It's obvious you and Nick never made love. No wonder you couldn't shed the guilts when he died."

Her hand flew to her mouth. "It wasn't like that," she began.

"Wasn't it?" he said. "How was it then? Why did you refuse your husband the privilege you afforded me?"

"I would have," she began. "We didn't..." She jumped, her nerves on a knife edge as there was a loud knocking at the front door."

"Tam, are you there? Wake up there's a problem at the camp."

Tam threw himself off the bed and hurled on some shorts and a T-shirt. "Stay there," he commanded. "We can talk later. Not that I'm sure we have anything to talk about."

He strode from the bedroom and Belinda sat like a small statue in the large bed, her short-term ecstasy totally extinguished and her dreams in ashes.

Uncertain what to do, she eventually lay back against the pillows. Whatever the crisis Tam wouldn't need her, and in the frame of mind he was in, he certainly wouldn't want her beside him. It had been the voice of the medical student who had called him and if Tam needed assistance he would call on Helen.

Throwing an arm over her stinging eyes, Belinda would have welcomed tears but they wouldn't come. Once she had a chance to explain to Tam that her marriage was virtually over before it started he would realize his assumption that she had 'held out' on her husband was incorrect.

She could think of no explanation that would help Tam to understand why she had withheld the information about her marriage. Whatever she said he could accuse her of deceiving him. He had given her the opportunity earlier that evening.

As her mind replayed her stumbling attempt at easing her conscience she realized that she could have persisted. Told him that he had the issue confused. She hadn't done that. Why? It was pointless trying to persuade herself that she might have lost her job. Tam was happy with her work. She had proven herself in that regard.

The thought that she had been pushing away finally broke through her resistance. Would Tam have made love to her if he'd known she was a virgin? He'd believed her to be a woman of experience. He'd said he wanted her. He had never at any point said he loved her.

Belinda climbed out of the bed and went into the shower. She stood for ages trying to wash away her misery. The minor aches and pains acquired from new experiences and the use of previously unused muscles went unnoticed. Eventually she turned off the water, dried

herself, and went back to bed to fall into a fitful sleep.

***

Morning came all too soon. Belinda woke with a start, her mind chaotic. She remembered the events of the night and turned quickly to look at the pillow beside her. Tam hadn't returned.

Once she was up and dressed Belinda made herself a cup of tea and tried to assemble her thoughts into some kind of order. There was no point in getting depressed. It was time to face facts and get on with life.

She had wanted to make love with Tam, that was fact number one. It had been the most wonderful experience of her life. That was another factor. She did not feel guilty about her decision. She should have told Tam the truth before they committed themselves. She realized that now.

A little shiver passed over her. Was there any commitment? On her part, yes, but Tam had said they may have nothing to talk about. That didn't sound like the statement of a committed person.

More and more she realized that he probably wanted a brief liaison, not a loving relationship. Vague memories of their lovemaking intruded. He had called her sweetheart and he had been unbelievably tender and gentle with her despite his ignorance of her inexperience. He had not said he loved her.

Belinda rose from the kitchen chair and carried her cup to the sink. He had been responsible too. In the haze of her passion and desire she had been vaguely aware of the precautions he had taken. Her cheeks warmed.

Contraception had been the last thing on her mind, which reinforced the theory that she had been lost in the throes of love and he had been clinically calculating every step of the way. A deep sigh escaped her lips. It hadn't seemed that way.

Mentally pulling herself together she washed her cup and saucer putting them away in the cupboard. What ever happened in her life she was determined that she would cope. Never again would she allow herself to sink into the depression, guilt, and aimlessness that she had embraced when Nick died. If there was no future for her with Tam then she would have to accept that and get on with her life.

Despite her good resolutions she was a nervous wreck as she approached the small sick bay at the camp. Helen was making up a bed and tidying away some instruments. She threw a disgruntled look at Belinda.

"You know when to take time off?" she said. "All hell broke loose here last night and where was Tam? No prizes for guessing."

Belinda felt her face flame. Calm down, she told herself. Helen is only fishing. In any case it was none of her business unless.… What was her relationship with Tam? She pushed her anxieties aside.

"So what was the drama? I would have come but obviously an O.T. wouldn't have been needed and sometimes too many people only confuse the issue."

"Especially as we weren't too sure what the issue was."

An uneasy feeling seeped through Belinda. "It wasn't the lad that Tam was concerned about was it?"

Helen nodded. "Sure was. Tam's intuition isn't often off the pace but he couldn't find any symptoms to back his spooky feelings."

"So what happened? Is he okay? The young lad?"

"Yes he's okay," Helen didn't prolong the agony. "As to what happened? He collapsed. Slap bang in the middle of a game of table tennis he keeled over. I was in my cabin and apart from some minor panic the kids were terrific. They watched over him without moving him, grabbed John, the student doctor, and sent Mary to get me."

"So where is he and what caused his problem? Is it serious?" Thoughts rioted through Belinda's mind. Had she been the cause of Tam leaving a patient he was unhappy about? She dismissed the thought. Tam made his own decisions.

"He's gone to the North Coast General Hospital, by ambulance, and Tam has gone with him. Tam's certain it's a reaction to his medication and nothing dangerous but he has to get him stabilized and his medication monitored and possibly changed. It's odd that it's taken so long for this reaction to manifest itself but with someone who's had cancer and chemotherapy all sorts of odd things can happen."

Belinda went over to the community hall and began her own day's work.

"Hi," Mary was already there. "Thank God, you're back. My black crepe slacks would fit two of me. I need help."

So what else was new, Belinda thought and with a rueful smile she picked up the small ripping tool and reached for the slacks.

There was a flurry of excitement as Tam entered the hall, and before Belinda could approach him he was surrounded by a group of anxious teenagers wanting a progress report on their friend.

"Ben's going to be just fine," he reassured them. "Most of his problem was trying to do too much too soon." He looked around the group. "I think we need to re-evaluate some of the aspects of recovery. It's important to temper activity with rest. I think some of you, and believe me I do understand, are trying to hasten the healing process, with detrimental results."

Tam walked around the group answering questions and occasionally putting a reassuring hand on a shoulder. As he pulled away from the group he announced, "We'll have a discussion this afternoon on some of the tricky phases of recovery and how to cope." He flashed his wonderful smile around the group lingering for seconds on Belinda's serious face. "If it's any consolation, the patience, fortitude, and maturity you gain through your illnesses will never leave you and will provide an invaluable crutch in the years ahead. We all have problems and setbacks through life and the stronger you become mentally as well as physically the better you will cope."

"Wise words," Belinda said dropping the slacks on the table as Tam moved to her side.

His face was expressionless as he spoke. "Yes, unfortunately it's easier to mouth them than put them into practice."

"Are you referring to the young people here, or is that some obscure reference to yourself." Belinda expected him to clam up but she felt that the time for skirting around issues had long gone and she wanted to be close to him and his problems.

"A bit of both, I suppose," he admitted. "Lord knows I've had plenty of problems and experiences to teach me patience and to help me make sensible decisions, but I still seem to stuff up every so often."

Scenes from the previous night flashed through her mind like the re-run of a movie. Did he regard that wonderful experience of sharing their emotions and their physical selves as a 'stuff up’?

Belinda choked on the feeling of desolation this thought evoked. She thrust aside her unpleasant thoughts; she was not going to let life browbeat her again. She looked into his eyes and challenged him; "Perhaps there's a need for closer communication."

"It's certainly been a bit thin on the ground," Tam flung back at her and she flinched at the direct hit he made on her conscience.

She drew in a deep breath; she wasn't giving up on him now. "That can...'

"Oy! Do I advertise for someone to share these slacks with me, or are we going to take them in." Mary, looking like an outraged scarecrow, waved the pair of king-size slacks in the air.

Tam grinned at Mary. "Far be it from me to interrupt the course of fashion. I'll catch you later," he added for Belinda's benefit.

Yes, she thought savagely, and I'll explain about communication being a two-way thing. She turned to Mary and took the offending slacks.

"You two at logger heads again?" Mary perched on the table.

"What do you mean, again." Belinda gave the slacks a tug and ripped out a whole row of stitches.

"Here, easy does it." Mary looked in alarm as each side of the slacks parted company.

"It's only the seam," Belinda said dredging up a smile. "Tam and I get on okay." She felt the tinge of pink building in her cheeks. Okay. Was that how you would describe an incredible joining of body and spirit?

"Yeah. Well if you both got your act together and had a deep and meaningful you might get on more than okay," Mary said with an intuition way beyond her years.

"There's not much time for in-depth conversation," Belinda said. "Speaking of which, is that Billy having what looks like a cozy chat with Helen?"

"Looks like it," Mary said taking the now dismembered slacks.

"I hope he's not being difficult." Belinda glanced over again at the ill-matched pair.

"Nah. He's not so anti-Helen now. She's been putting a fair effort into winning him over, but don't tell him that." Mary picked up the box of pins and attacked the maligned slacks with a slightly dampened enthusiasm.

A frown creased Belinda's brow. Helen was almost as complex as Tam. Oh, she was a good nurse and establishing some kind of rapport with one's patients would be a top priority but Helen often did kind things when they were least expected. Which makes it difficult to justify disliking her, Belinda thought, savagely skewering a piece of material and her finger with a pin.

"Ouch!" Only a pinprick and she had to fight back tears. She was fast developing into a basket case.

Mary leaned over and removed the pins from her hand. "Go and get a cup of coffee," she said. "You look as if you spent the night solving the world's problems."

Belinda smiled. More like creating them. She allowed Mary to lead her to the door and promised to be back in a few minutes. There was always coffee brewing in a small common room at the back of the hall and Belinda slipped inside. She had just poured a mug of the black, rather evil looking brew when Tam came into the room.

"Make it two, please," he said coming to stand uncomfortably close.

As soon as she filled another mug, Belinda picked up her cup and began to move toward the door.

"Tell me," Tam said, causing her to stop and look at him. "Did Mary suggest that you needed a cup of coffee?"

Belinda closed her eyes for a moment. Cupid came in all guises. She looked into Tam's eyes. "Yes, she did."

He burst out laughing. "She'll go far that one. I should appoint her Public Relations Officer."

"Tam… We need to talk."

He eyes narrowed. "Apparently Mary thinks so."

"My husband was killed two hours after our marriage ceremony. We never made it to the reception much less a honeymoon." She hadn't meant to blurt it out but it should have been said weeks ago.

For a long moment he just stood, then slowly he nodded his head. "I should have guessed."

"No! I should have explained. It was one of those silly deceptions that just got out of hand."

"Yes," he said, "you should have explained." He put his coffee cup down with a thump and some of the coffee slopped overboard. "Don't you realize, Lindy that I would have treated you differently." He paused. "Been gentler."

"You were gentle and I chose to leave you in ignorance which was a mistake, I admit, but I didn't even realize that you would be able to tell."

"Why?" He frowned at her. "Why leave me in ignorance. And of course I could tell."

"I'm not sure. I guess I was afraid that if you realized I was a virgin you wouldn't have made love with me."

"You guessed correctly. I wouldn't have."

She waited for him to explain but he didn't and she felt her spirits sink even further. Telling him the truth hadn't really achieved anything. He had confirmed her worst fears and it appeared their short relationship was over.

"Perhaps we should go back to square one," he said and Belinda looked at him in bewilderment. He took her cup and placed it on the bench-top as he explained.

"We've both been a little screwed up with our emotions since the first day we came in contact. You were still grieving and I was struggling through a morass of emotional upheaval. We both seem to be getting our heads together so what do you say that we start again? Get to know the real Tam and Belinda. We can take it from there."

"Oh, yes!" She knew she was letting her emotions all hang out but she didn't care. She loved Tam Fletcher and if it took a lifetime she would somehow find a way for him to return that love.

"Good." Tam cut short her elaborate daydreams and brought her back to normal in a flash. "I'm going to Brisbane for a day or two. I have to take Ben back. He'll be okay but I think he should rest at home for a week or two. He'll possibly come back with another intake here when he's stronger and more stabilized. I need to check on my practice as well, so it could be a few days."

"We'll miss you," Belinda said. "Who'll run the medical side?"

"A qualified doctor from the local hospital is giving us his days off, which is pretty decent of him and John, our medical student will come when he can."

As Belinda nodded a lock of hair fell forward and Tam brushed it back gently. "You look tired," he said. "I should have taken better care of you."

"I'm not complaining," she said.

He dropped a kiss on her forehead. "I'd better get going."

As they left the room they caught a glimpse of Mary scuttling into her place at the table. The brief thumbs up she gave Billy was damning evidence of where she had been and what she'd been doing.

***

Tam was gone for four days and in that time Belinda was kept busy. The girls and a couple of the boys had made quite a good job of their sewing projects and they decided to have a party toward the end of their stay to show off their achievements.

When Tam's Land Rover pulled up just two days after he left, Belinda hurried from the hall to greet him. She was just in time to see John, the medical student, easing out of the driver's seat.

"Hi Belinda. Not Tam as you can see. He lent me the Land Rover. I haven't got my own wheels. A student's allowance doesn't run to owning a car."

"What's Tam planning on doing? Walking?" Belinda smiled. He must be getting a lift back.

"He's owns a car as well, apparently," John said. "He said he doesn't use it much and it could do with a run. He'll be back in a day or so."

During the next two days Belinda's thoughts often turned to Tam. She knew so little about him. She could picture him in his role as physician. He had a way of getting people to open up to him which would be essential if he was to sort through their symptoms to make an accurate diagnosis. Looking back she could see he had given her the opportunity to share her grief and tell him something of her marriage but she had always avoided the issue.

He would be back soon. She kept expecting him to drive up in the Land Rover that he always used. She hadn't thought in terms of his owning a car as well. For a few seconds she pondered on what sort of car he would arrive in but it was irrelevant.

When Tam arrived the next day, she realized how sometimes the irrelevant things in life can have an enormous kickback. Gone was all the joyful anticipation of seeing him, gone were all her hopes of a future with Tam, and gone forever was her peace of mind.

Chapter Eleven

His car was an early model yellow Citroen. It's unusual shape forever emblazoned on her brain. A replay of the split second when it strayed into their path the day Nick had died came screaming to the forefront of her mind. Belinda turned away feeling physically sick.

She ran to her cabin fighting the urge to throw up. Waves of shock reverberated through her slight frame as she sank onto the bed. It had to be a mistake but she had seen that car outlined in the afternoon sunlight seconds before Nick made that fatal swerve that cost him his life.

"Lindy!"

Her head flew up. It was Tam. What could she say to him?

The door opened and he came in to stand anxiously by the bed.

"What is, Lindy? You took off like a rocket."

He had every right to look astonished and without thought she blurted out, "I felt ill. Thought I needed the bathroom." It was the truth if only a small portion of it.

He put an arm around her. "Poor darling. Timing isn't our strong suit is it?"

He placed a professional hand on her brow. "No temp. What and when did you last eat?"

"Breakfast, but it wouldn't be that I just had cereal and toast."

"Is it your period?"

She shook her head. God! What a mess. How could she ever explain? Excuse me Tam, but I think you caused my husband's death.

"Lindy, the other night, I took precautions. I'm sure you wouldn't be pregnant."

She shook her head. "I didn't imagine I would be. It's only been a few days since we…"

He smiled, "It only takes a few minutes to sow the seeds but I doubt that you're likely to be pregnant. How about you rest a while and I'll come back after I've attended to a few urgent matters."

"Yes, of course. I'll come back to the hall in a minute."

He shook his head. "No. Stay here until you feel better."

As he left the room, closing the door behind him, she sucked in great gulps of air. It was too much of a coincidence. Even the police had doubted her ability to remember exactly what happened when they'd had that fatal accident. But the yellow Citroen. It had been the main player in her nightmares and she felt that she had a perfect image recorded forever in her mind.

Slowly she began to get her thoughts together. The accident had happened in the Rockhampton area. She and Nick had left the church after their wedding ceremony to visit Nick's grandmother. She had been confined to bed in a local nursing home and because of her disappointment at missing the wedding they had decided to call on her showing off their wedding finery.

She shivered as the whole episode was refreshed in her mind. Desperately, she dampened down the depression that threatened to overwhelm her. She wouldn't go backwards. Clenching and unclenching her fingers she fought for calm. Slowly her thoughts began to take shape.

Despite the coincidence of the unusual car, it was unlikely that Tam would have been in the Rockhampton area. He lived and worked in Brisbane. She began to feel much better. Although she had made such progress in the last few weeks her emotions were still volatile and she realized that she was capable of exaggeration and irrational thinking.

She swung her legs over the side of the bed and went to the bathroom. The cold water revitalized her as she splashed it over her face and she pulled the band from her hair and brushed it out in a shining mass. A touch of lipstick and she was ready and eager to find Tam.

He was standing with a group of young people nodding his head as Mary gesticulated with her thin hands. He waved to her and quickly broke away from the group.

"Don't let me interrupt," Belinda said as he joined her. "They've all missed you."

"How are you feeling?" He looked into her eyes his own narrowing as he made his own medical judgment.

"I'm fully recovered and feeling foolish," she said.

"Still no idea what brought on that bout of nausea," Tam asked.

"No. Not unless it's a case of the old cliché, something I ate."

"We'd better keep an eye on you." Tam said. "I can run you into the local hospital if you need a medical check.

"But… You're a doctor."

"Not your doctor, Lindy. I can't have you as a patient and a lover and I know which I prefer."

She felt the color creep into her cheeks.

He took her hand and led her outside. Under the shade of a tree he turned her to face him. "Don't worry. I won't rush you. I should have given you more time before, but to be truthful, I couldn't wait. I’ve wanted to make love to you since the first time I saw you."

The blaze of desire reflected in his eyes bounced back at her. She drew in a deep breath. He had always appeared so in control. To know that she had that effect on him was both thrilling and frightening. Her feelings gradually dampened down when she forced herself to face the fact that he had said that he wanted her. There had been no mention of love.

"What is it?" He was so perceptive. He seemed to sense the slightest change of mood. "For a moment there I thought you shared my impatience. Still having regrets, Lindy?"

"Regrets. No. Confusion yes. I'm not sure of my feelings. Of anything."

She caught the flash of disappointment in his eyes. She hadn't been truthful. She knew how she felt. She loved him but if he had been connected with Nick's death that love couldn't survive.

He caught her against his chest. "That's my fault for miss-timing what should have been a very special event in our lives. Instead I’ve behaved like a randy teenager and spoilt everything. I'm sorry, sweetheart. Will you give me another chance?"

She took only a few seconds to nod her head, but to her it seemed like an eternity and Tam's quick expulsion of breath confirmed that he had felt the same.

They went back inside, and Helen came up to ask Tam about one of the boy's medication.

"I'll come into the dispensary and sort it out," Tam said. As he strode away Helen gave Belinda a wink and followed him.

For once Belinda didn't feel that Helen was being spiteful. When she thought back over the past couple of weeks, she realized that Helen had been very helpful and supportive. What had brought about her change of heart Belinda had no idea.

When she thought about it she realized that in the highly emotional state she had been in when she first arrived at the camp, she could have read more into Helen's behavior than it indicated.

So many of the decisions she'd made over the past few months had been colored by her bad experiences. She made herself a promise that she wouldn't let her imagination take control over the coincidence of the yellow car or any other issue that might upset the precarious balance of her love for Tam.

***

The next few days were hectic. Helen took some time off and considering the amount of work she had put into extra activities unrelated to nursing Belinda felt that she had more than earned her break. She elected to stay away from the campsite for a day and night and when she returned she radiated with health and happiness.

"For the first time since Andrew's death I feel that life is full of promise," she told Belinda as they shared a cup of coffee.

Belinda set her cup down as her hand shook. "Andrew?" Was this another coincidence or were some pieces of the puzzle slotting into place. Tam's brother's name was Andrew.

"Yes. Tam's brother." Helen confirmed. "I was engaged to Andrew, but you knew that."

"No." With an effort Belinda controlled the tremor in her voice. "I didn't know. Tam didn't mention it."

"I'm surprised," Helen said. "You must have made some wrong assumptions about my relationship with Tam."

That was no more than the truth, but Helen's jokes about sharing Tam's bed seemed a little bizarre now that her engagement to Andrew was revealed.

Maybe her innuendoes were just jokes albeit in bad taste.

Helen's mouth twisted in a rueful smile. "I admit I behaved oddly at times. I think after Andrew's death that I tried to make Tam into a substitute fiancé but he was too sensible to go along with that. He seemed to understand, thank goodness."

Helen put her cup down and stretched her arms above her head. "I've met the nicest man and although he is nothing like Andrew we enjoy each other's company and I'm going to see what develops." She lowered her arms and picked up her cup taking it over to the sink to rinse it out.

Belinda joined her and put a hand on her arm. "I hope it works out," she said. She hoped that with all her heart. She'd had no idea that Helen was another of life's casualties and like Tam and herself battling to find happiness again.

"Yes. What we all need now is for you and Tam to get your act together." Helen smiled and went to leave the room.

"Speaking of getting acts together," Belinda detained her for a moment. "What do you think of the fashion show idea? Mary's mad keen of course but the rest of the camp dwellers might think it's a bit of a fizzer."

"I think you underestimate their support for each other," Helen said. "They'll go along with it. Be a captive audience even if the boys find it a bit boring."

She was right of course. They didn't have much time left so she would need to start planning. The past few weeks had gone quickly and it was difficult to realize that this camp had almost run its course. It had been very successful and as they all became more experienced, it could only get better and better.

Despite Tam's desire to 'start again', they'd had little time together. They couldn't leave their responsibilities to go up to the main house and with Helen away their free time had all been accounted for.

A hectic session organizing the 'models' and clothes for the fashion show kept Belinda working late in the community hall and as she left for her cabin she realized she had missed her evening meal. She sat down in her cabin and eyed the fruit bowl. The bananas were past their due date and even the apple looked a bit second hand.

She jumped as a loud knocking at her door interrupted her dismal evaluation.

"Room Service." Tam stood outside holding a tray covered with a checked cloth.

"Is it really? Food I mean." Belinda realized that she was famished.

"A bit of a daunting reaction," Tam said. "Here I’m expecting to be the center of your attention and it's the gifts I bear that have that privilege."

Belinda laughed as she opened the door wide. "You know what they say. You can't live on love." As soon as she said it she realized that she had all but told him she loved him. She hoped he would take it as light-hearted banter.

For a moment his eyes narrowed and he looked serious but his expression changed almost at once and he joined into the spirit of the occasion. He whisked off the cloth to reveal a tasty chicken dish accompanied by rice and a crunchy bread roll. A generous helping of Pavlov topped with fruit sat on a dessert plate and he had remembered her aversion to cream.

"It looks wonderful. I had to rush lunch and I thought I was stuck with some geriatric fruit for dinner."

Tam shook his head. "Don't neglect your health, Lindy. No one asks or expects you to do that.

He sat and chatted while she ate and then set the tray on a small table. He came to sit beside her on the two-seater lounge and gently turned her face toward him. "I've missed you," he whispered. "Too much going on to begin my campaign."

"What campaign is that?" His eyes were mesmerizing her and she wished she hadn't eaten after all. Her stomach was churning away like a cement mixer.

"My 'start at the beginning and woo Lindy campaign'." His arms slid around her, his mouth gently exploring her mouth. His lips were just touching, tasting. He gently probed with his tongue and she opened her mouth, wanting the intimacy such kisses demanded.

"Hmm," he said, as he gently withdrew and dropped kisses over her eyelids, her cheeks, and her nose. "Very sweet."

"It's the Pavlov," she murmured.

He threw his head back and laughed. "Don't be so down to earth," he chided her.

He looked so relaxed and happy, even if her honesty had punctured the romance of the moment. She realized how seldom he laughed and how up until recently he had looked sad and disillusioned. He seemed to have shed his cloak of unhappiness and she felt wonderful to think that she might have helped bring that situation about.

"Lindy, in a few days this camp will be over. I want… need to spend some time with you. Is that going to be possible?"

She let her head relax against his shoulder. "I'd like that too."

"I could come up to Rockhampton if it's your intention to return there once we finish up here. I can take a couple of days off and then I need to get back to my practice."

Rockhampton! She hadn't thought in terms of his coming to her hometown. To her home, probably. He probably didn't realize that her parent's views on relationships were still locked in the dark ages.

"Problems?" He was mind reading again. "I'm not planning to invite myself into your bed in your parent's home," he added. He tilted her face toward him. "I would like to meet your mother. Your father and I have already measured each other up."

"Have you?" She couldn't hide her surprise.

He brushed a wayward lock of hair back from her forehead. "Fathers are very intuitive. I think he sensed the attraction that existed between us. I'm not sure if he approved or not, but I suspect that he'll leave you to make your own decisions."

"And mistakes." She said it without thinking and he stiffened beside her.

"Do you regard our relationship as a mistake, Lindy?"

"No of course not." How could she tell him that the only real relationship they seemed to have was a brief sexual one? She didn't know the extent of his feelings and there was no way she could tell him hers.

"I wasn't referring to… to our relationship." The word stuck in her throat. Relationships were in-depth affairs with strong feelings on both sides. Theirs was a hazy liaison with neither of them knowing the true feelings of the other.

"Then to what were you referring?" Tam's mouth was set in a stubborn line.

Belinda hesitated, searching for the right words. "In the past my father and to a certain extent, Nick, influenced all the decisions I made. I realize now that allowing them to do that was a mistake and I think that my father realizes that now."

Tam tilted her chin up, forcing her to meet his gaze. "But you don't feel confident now that you can make your own choices?"

She surprised him. "I intend to make my own choices. If I make mistakes I'll learn from them."

He released her chin and leaned back against the settee his arm still around her. "Was marrying Nick a mistake?"

She drew in a sharp breath. He was so damned astute. Perhaps it was time for total honesty. "Yes." Her hands fluttered nervously. "But I would have done everything to be a good wife." Her eyes filled with tears. "Please try to understand. It's not unusual in Italian families for marriages to be…"

"Arranged." Tam finished for her. "God! No wonder you were so guilt ridden."

"I didn't want him to die." Tears spilled down her cheeks.

He pulled her against him. "Shh. It's okay, Lindy. I understand. I'm sure when you married Nick you had every intention of making your marriage work. It would have, you know. Arranged marriages often work out surprisingly well, so stop upsetting yourself over something that was beyond your control."

He rocked her gently until he felt her relax. Tipping her head back he kissed her. "No more looking back," he told her. "You have mourned Nick, and I have come to terms with Andrew's death. I think we should look to the future and see if we can't snatch a chance at happiness."

He ran his thumbs under her eyes, brushing away the tears. "Now! Shall I come to Rockhampton?"

" Yes. Of course. It will mean a lot of driving."

"Nothing the yellow Citroen hasn't coped with before. It's traveled that road plenty of times."

Her breath froze. He was talking about the car he had driven back in from Brisbane. It was an unusual shape, a shape imprinted on her brain. He had obviously driven it between Brisbane and Rockhampton before. Doubts and fears flooded back. She tried to hang onto her newfound calm. It was still an unlikely coincidence.

Oblivious to her inner turmoil he stood up pulling her with him. "Now that I've something to look forward to, I'll love and leave you. Any minute an irate and even more inquisitive teenager will bang on this door, eager to absorb and report exactly what's going on."

He kissed her quickly and hard. "I'll see you in the morning."

Her lips still tingled from his kiss as he shut the door behind him. The sensation gradually subsided but there was no respite from the thoughts buzzing in her brain.

It seemed unlikely that Tam would have been driving on the same road on the afternoon of her wedding. He would have no reason to. Common sense told her that she couldn't know that. She knew nothing of his private life and the accident had happened at Rockhampton, which was only seven hours from Brisbane.

A mental picture of the unusually shaped car reappeared in her mind. For seconds it had drifted into the path of their car. Why? The driver had to be driving dangerously. Tam wouldn't do that. He was a responsible person.

She sank onto the bed as unwanted explanations invaded her peace of mind. He could have fallen asleep. He worked long hours. He could have been drinking. No! She hadn't seen him the worse for drink. She thought of the occasions when they had shared a bottle of wine. He had never been intending to drive.

As she lay in bed her mind replayed the sequence of the dreadful accident that had changed her whole life. Perhaps Tam had been right when he said her marriage probably would have worked out. He was trying to assuage her feelings of guilt but she couldn't deny the fact that she loved Tam and she had never loved Nick.

Some people believed in fate. Fate had certainly taken a hand when she lost Nick and met Tam. Maybe it was meant to be. She shivered. Not to the extent that Tam had inadvertently played a part in Nick's death. Never that. Her thoughts went round and round always coming back to the same traumatic trigger. The accident. The yellow car, first in their path and then flashing past them just before Nick lost control. Her last clear memory the emblem on the side.

Belinda sat up. All the brain teasing had finally begun to slot into place. She remembered her glimpse of the car as it swerved out of their path. For seconds its image had been caught in the sunlight and on the side of the door there had been a large emblem. It had resembled an animal's head.

She caught up her pillow and clutched it tightly. She'd tried to describe it to the police but the memory had been hazy. Not so now. She could see the emblem clearly in her mind. She hugged the pillow hard as she realized that she had seen no such emblem on Tam's car. Her breath hissed out in a sigh of relief. Exhausted from her busy day and her emotional turmoil she fell asleep, her fears allayed.

***

The last night at the camp was to be a festive one. The community hall was to be decorated with streamers and balloons and tables displaying the articles made by the children would be set up.

Mary and her group were giving a small fashion parade and Belinda had no doubt there would be items on the program that she knew nothing about. A few of the parents were coming for the party and staying the night but most of them wouldn't arrive to collect their offspring until the next day.

All the preparations left little time for Belinda to see Tam and even the evenings were taken up with last minute arrangements.

"Roll on Saturday," Helen said on the Thursday afternoon. "I can't wait."

"When are you leaving?" Belinda asked. She hadn't made any arrangements with Tam but that could wait until Saturday afternoon when the last of the children had gone home.

"I've organized with Tam to leave at lunch time on Saturday," Helen said. "I'm spending the rest of the weekend with friends. How about you?"

"I haven't even thought about it yet," Belinda said. "I'll sort myself out after everyone has left."

"Good idea," Helen said. "Some of the staff are staying until Sunday."

Friday was even more hectic and Belinda had no chance to discuss Tam's proposed visit to her hometown. He seemed to disappear at regular intervals.

"Gone to pick up some of the supplies for tonight," Mary announced when Belinda returned from one of her regular forays outside the hall.

Belinda had long since given up wondering how Mary kept tabs on the movements in the camp. Her intelligence and keen observation would take her far in her chosen career as long as her health remained good.

For a moment Belinda's spirits fell. She was setting out a display of artwork done by the children and Billy's crocodile grinned fiercely at her.

It was so easy to forget that all the children at the camp had suffered a life threatening illness. She offered up a silent prayer. Please let them all stay well.

The yellow car braked to a stop outside the hall just as Belinda tied the last of the balloons up. It was already late afternoon and she felt a bit stressed when she realized how much she still had to do.

Tam came into the hall clutching some cartons of soft drinks. He flashed Belinda a smile as he headed for the large refrigerator.

"Need any help?" she asked as she joined him.

He stood up from his task of loading the drinks onto the shelves. "What I need," he said, "is an energizer." He pulled her into his arms and kissed her long and hard. "God, I needed that," he said when he finally released her.

"Mmm! It does put rather a different complexion on the day," Belinda murmured.

"Tomorrow," Tam promised. "Tomorrow we'll make plans." He disappeared outside and Belinda followed him out to see if he needed help. He was unloading boxes containing potato crisps, nuts, and a variety of party fare.

The late afternoon sun caught the bright yellow paint work of the car dazzling Belinda as she leaned forward to take some of the boxes. "Shiny car," she commented. "You must be conscientious with the spit and polish."

"Not likely," Tam said. "It's had a new paint job recently. I decided I could no longer live with the gaudy emblem on the side. Now that this is a holiday camp I think that the symbol of a cow advertising the dairy side can be dispensed with."

The box slid from her fingers and Belinda bent dazedly to pick it up. "Don't worry," Tam

said indicating the box. "I can cope with all this." He retrieved the box and dropped a kiss on her head. "Off you go. You must have other things to do. Just keep me in your thoughts while you are doing them."

How could she not? But it wouldn't be thoughts of their love and their future that occupied her mind but how she could come to terms with loving the man who had caused the death of her husband.

Chapter Twelve

Several last minute hitches kept Belinda busy and she began to understand the expression, ‘working on automatic pilot'. Her brain felt numb and she knew that once she allowed herself to stop and think that her whole future would shatter into tiny pieces.

The emblem she remembered was exactly as Tam had described it. As an advertisement for a working dairy farm it made sense. But why on his car? She remembered his feelings of guilt concerning Andrew and the fact that he had been left to run the farm and presumed that Tam had probably felt that to drive a car promoting the farm was the least he could do.

The preparations were finally complete and Belinda made her way back to her cabin. She felt old. She felt as if she had lived a lifetime. The reality was that she still had a lot of living to do and somehow she had to go on and make something worthwhile of her future.

For a few moments all the old feelings of guilt flooded back. She'd had no right to fall in love with Tam. She'd barely recovered from losing her husband. No decent person would have forgotten Nick so quickly. It was a punishment, she thought. Allowing her to meet and fall in love with Tam and then snatching that happiness away. She pulled her thoughts up suddenly. No! She would not go down that path again. Fate might have dealt her a heart-rending blow but it was rubbish to regard it as a punishment. She had mourned Nick and nothing would undo what had happened. She loved Tam and nothing would change that, but the doubts and fears that accompanied the strange circumstances of the yellow car and her accident had to be faced.

How well did she know Tam? Surely living in close proximity on a day to day basis should have given her an insight to his character. If he had caused the accident, could she live with that?

A shower and a change of clothes did little to improve her spirits. She stood in front of the mirror and drew her thick dark hair back in a stylish knot adding a purple velvet clip to match the deep purple pattern on her silk dress. Quickly she turned away from the mirror. Her reflection had been all eyes and the sadness and despair that she had been battling had bounced right back at her.

Normally she wouldn't have dressed so formally but she was chaperoning the fashion show and Tam had asked her to mingle with the parents afterwards.

He had said they would talk tomorrow and a few hours previously she would have welcomed the thought. Now? Now she wished tomorrow would never come. She had no idea what to say or what to do.

***

The music had been carefully chosen and the models schooled to perfection. Mary strode along the makeshift catwalk, her black evening pants and gold top worn with panache that came as naturally to her as breathing. She had wound some of the gold material around her head turban fashion.

When Belinda described the outfit and those of the other models her voice was calm and cultured but inside… Inside she wept with pride and joy for the bravery of these young adults, for their struggles to remain healthy and normal. In a month they had made enormous strides and with a rock solid strength gained through adversity they would go on to achieve their dreams.

As she put down the microphone to a noisy round of cheers and clapping she thought of her own dreams. Whatever happened she knew that she too had gained new strength and that she could fall back on that strength to cope.

A tug on her sleeve interrupted her thoughts and she turned to find Billy standing beside her. His weak arm supported a heavy tray, a testimony to the improvement he had gained in a month. His stubby hair had grown into a thick dark brown fuzz and as he moved away after plying her with food his limp was barely perceptible. There were other changes too. His newfound confidence and tolerance acquired by default during his time spent with Mary.

He stopped in front of Helen and a tall thin man. The man placed a hand on Billy's shoulder his thin face alight with a glowing smile. Belinda caught her breath. Billy's father. The resemblance was unmistakable and as she watched another solid fact hit her head on. Helen was looking into the man's eyes and it wasn't a look reserved for the parent of one of her patients. It was a proprietary look almost predatory and Billy's Dad looked as if being swallowed in one gulp by Helen would be fine by him.

Slowly Belinda let her gaze take in the whole room. It was all around her. New friendships, the early stages of a relationship, and across the room there was Tam. He looked over toward her and gave her a little salute. He would be lost to her tonight. There would be parents wanting to discuss their child's progress. The children themselves would want to spend some last minute time with him.

She found herself doing the same thing, reassuring parents, instilling hope for the future and making arrangements to keep in touch with some of those who still clung. Mary wasn't the clinging type but she had her priorities right.

"I'm staying in touch," she announced. "One new outfit does not make a new wardrobe and I'll need some back up for these shaky new skills I've acquired."

"Anytime," Belinda told her. "I'll give you my address and phone number."

"Thanks. I guess if you're not at home you'll be here at the next camp."

Belinda's small hesitation was not lost on Mary.

"You're mad if you don't get it together with Tam," she said. "Lord knows I've tried. Whatever your problem is, life's too short to let it come between you."

Billy brought his Dad over then and introduced them. When Belinda finally excused herself she heard him quietly thanking Mary for the support she had given his son. He was no fool. Billy wouldn't have told him directly about Mary. The subtle change in Billy's attitude to Helen wouldn't have happened without encouragement either and Belinda suspected that Mary had played no small part in that as well.

All ends were being neatly tied up, she thought. Except the huge unraveling of her own problem. Life's too short, Mary had said. Certainly staring death in the face would bring some things into perspective.

She would have to talk to Tam. Ask him about the car. Decisions could come later.

It was the early hours of the morning when she finally reached her cabin. She felt exhausted physically and mentally and she fell asleep almost at once.

***

The loud staccato of knocks on her door woke her and she knew as she threw on a wrap and opened the door that it would be Billy who was responsible for the rude awakening.

"I tried to dissuade him." Billy's father apologized obviously embarrassed by his son's early morning enthusiasm.

"It's fine," Belinda reassured him. "I need to get up anyway. People will be leaving after breakfast and I don't want to miss seeing them."

"That's what I thought," Billy said. "Dad, Helen and I have been to the dairy. She's not much of a milker."

Puzzled, Belinda frowned, trying to picture which cow was the target of Billy's disgust."

"He means Helen," Billy's father enlightened her. "He seemed to be expecting big things of Helen but she assured him that milking cows was not one of her favorite past times."

Belinda smiled. Another of her theories gone up in smoke. She had pictured Helen as the perfect dairymaid, especially since she had made some comment about Belinda's skill in that area. Billy's father suggested they leave Belinda to get dressed and she arranged to meet them at breakfast.

Tam was already there when she walked into the dining area, but he was surrounded by a noisy group and there was little chance of talking to him. By the time breakfast was over parents were arriving to collect their offspring

The camp staff had dwindled to a small group as they waved goodbye to the last of the children. Tam looked at Belinda and her heart almost lurched to a halt. There was a wealth of feeling in those green eyes but she was hopeless at mind reading or deciphering his thoughts.

"Come on," he said taking her arm and walking her away from the main area. "We'll escape to my cabin for a while."

"Someone is bound to need you for something," Belinda said. She knew she was prevaricating but suddenly she didn't want to discuss their future. The risk that they would have no future seemed strong at that moment and she didn't want to face that.

"Too bad," Tam said. "I'm unavailable for the next hour, and they'd better believe it."

As soon as they were inside his cabin with the door tightly closed he took her in his arms. His kiss was long and hard. She closed her eyes and gave herself up to the sheer ecstasy of being held in his arms, of the feel of his mouth against hers and when he deepened the kiss her body fused against his. This man was her destiny, her life. How could he not be? Please God, she prayed, let his involvement in the accident be a mistake.

Gradually he eased them apart. "I guess we need to concentrate on our future plans. I can be free in a day or so to come to Rockhampton. Is that okay with you?"

Her hesitation was minuscule but he didn't miss it. "What is it, Lindy? I've sensed a problem during the last few hours. Are you afraid your parents won't approve of our relationship?"

She shook her head. "It's not that."

"But there's something?" He was holding her hands in his.

"Yes. I need to know… It's about Nick's death. I…"

He drew her down onto the settee. "Lindy, it's time to let go. I didn't know Nick but I can't believe he would want you to go on grieving. We don't have to rush things." He paused as if seeking the right words. His voice was gentle when he finally spoke. "I won't pressure you to sleep with me. I'll wait for as long as you like."

She couldn't go on deceiving him. It was time to put an end to this nightmare. "It's not the guilt I felt," she began. "I'm over that now. I realize that my marriage to Nick just wasn't meant to be." She ran her hand through her hair. "I need to talk to you about the circumstances that lead to the accident."

"Surely you don't hold yourself to blame for that," Tam said. "From what you've told me you had no part to play in that."

"No," Belinda said. She drew in a deep breath. "But I'm not sure that you didn't have."

He looked totally stunned. "How could I possibly have played a part in your husband's death. I didn't know him or you for that matter."

She knew she was attacking the problem badly. He had a right to think she had taken leave of her senses but she couldn't go into a long-term relationship with this terrible doubt hanging over her head. "Tam, just before Nick lost control of the car a yellow Citroen drifted into our path. I thought we were going to hit it head on. It veered away but Nick had been so spooked by the incident that he swung too far to the side and we left the road and hit a tree.

"You're suggesting it was my Citroen?"

She could understand his incredulous look. She should never have brought the subject up. She was paranoid about the accident. It was unhealthy. "I'm sorry," she said. "I know there are probably hundreds of yellow Citroens on the road. Thousands even. It was just the emblem. I noticed it as the car flashed past. It just stuck in my mind like some bad omen."

Tam was suddenly very still. "You mean the cow's head that I had removed?"

"Yes. It seemed like a unique symbol."

Tam closed his eyes for a moment, almost as if he was in pain. "It was that all right. Andrew designed it himself."

The silence was like the aftermath of a bomb devastation.

Belinda forced herself to speak. "Are you saying that it is possible that it was your car?"

The flat dull tone of his voice frightened her more than any loud urgent questioning would have. "When were you married?"

She named the date and time. "We didn't even make it to the reception," she said, her voice reflecting the horror that was still so easy to dredge up. "We had collected Nick's car after the photographs and gone to visit his grandmother at a nearby nursing home. She was bedridden and couldn't come to the wedding. She wanted to see us in our wedding finery."

It had been the terrible toll taken by the accident on all that finery that had been one of the worst memories of the accident. Blood on a stark white wedding dress seemed almost like blasphemy.

Tam was white under his tan. His statement was like a death knell. "It's more than likely that it was my car."

Each word was like a knife thrust. He offered no explanation. "I'm sorry, Lindy. I had no idea."

"But why? Why did you do that?"

"I can't give you an explanation, now." Tam stood up. "This has been a shock, Lindy. I think we need some time to adjust." He looked at her stricken face. "If we can ever come to terms with the part I seem to have played in your husband's death."

He left her. Just like that. Her hopes and dreams shattered. No explanation. He'd said he couldn't give her one at that time. Would he ever? Or was this his way of terminating their relationship? Questions. Interminable questions and no answers. She felt as if she was going mad.

Automatically she tidied the cabin and packed her clothes. She had to get away. Away from the camp. Away from Tam. There was still work to attend to in the community hall. Everything was still set up suit her individual work style. She knew deep in her heart that she wouldn't be back. Not now.

It took hours for her to straiten up the area that the future occupational therapist would use but finally it was done and she packed the things she couldn't leave behind into her car. She took a final look at the sewing machines. They could turn out to be a white elephant unless whoever replaced her had a similar interest in sewing. She smiled despite the leaden weight of unhappiness in her heart. There would never be another Mary to agitate and cajole. She was one of a kind.

She glanced at her watch. It was late afternoon and she wouldn't reach Rockhampton unless she drove well into the night. She shuddered. That wasn't an option, not in her state of mind. Hervey Bay was a reasonable target, she decided, not really caring where she went or how she got there.

Her last call was to say goodbye to Jim at the dairy. He was organizing the evening milking. He wished her well in his usual dour fashion and she left, pausing to stroke Venus on her wet nose. Jim came up quietly behind her. "Don't give up on him lass. He's been to hell and back."

Shocked, Belinda turned to speak to him but he was already moving away shushing the cows into their stalls as he went.

As she made her way to her car Belinda tried to come to terms with Jim's plea. She knew Tam had suffered when his brother died. They had shared a common bond in their grief, but that didn't explain Tam's involvement in her accident.

About to enter her car, she slammed the door shut again and made her way up to the house. There was a good chance that Tam was there and she would try once more to solve the mystery that he seemed hell bent on keeping under wraps.

There was no answer to her loud knocking and she was just about to give up when the door was swung open. Tam stood there, looking dazed his hair wild as if he had been running his fingers through it. She stepped close to him, "Tam… I have to know," she began but he interrupted her, his voice harsh. She could smell the whisky on his breath as he spoke.

"No Lindy, I can't talk about this now. We need time."

She turned and ran stumbling over the rough ground. She flung herself into the car and started the engine. He'd been drinking. Not just an odd glass either. Oh, he wasn't roaring drunk but there had been a slight unsteadiness in his stance and his eyes, they had looked dull and listless.

She pictured the accident scene again. He could have been drinking. It wouldn't take many whiskies to put someone over the limit or to impair their driving ability, especially if those drinks had been combined with tiredness.

Suddenly she felt that she didn't know Tam at all. He had rarely drunk alcohol in the short time she had known him and he always seemed alert and responsible. If her suppositions were correct it was no wonder he didn't want to discuss his part in the accident with her.

As she drove away from the farm her own powers of concentration weren't wonderful and she realized just how easy it was for accidents to happen. The winding road and late afternoon traffic forced her to blank out her thoughts and she forced them to the back of her mind until she turned the car into a motel at Hervey Bay. Advice on room service and breakfast orders went unheeded and she threw herself onto the bed and slept from sheer exhaustion.

The noise of car engines woke her and she sat up startled and disorientated. Where was she? The previous day's events came rushing back, her unhappy thoughts accompanied by depression and hopelessness.

No! She wouldn't go down that path again. No matter how many times she fell or was knocked down she would bounce back. A reluctant smile twitched her lips as she thought of the Knockem doll she had owned as a child. Rounded on the bottom it could be knocked over repeatedly but it always bobbed up again. That's how she would be. How she had to be.

She retrieved her overnight bag from the car and showered and changed. She put on black linen shorts and a sleeveless silk white top. It would be hot and steamy outside but thank goodness for the air conditioning both in her car and the motel. Not ordering breakfast had been a mistake especially as she hadn't bothered with dinner the night before. It was too late now so she paid her motel fee and got under way.

About an hour down the road she stopped at a coffee shop and had a mug of strong black coffee and some muffins. It could have been so different. Try as she would, she couldn't stop that thought from recurring. Instead of the empty hollow space in her heart there could have been anticipation. Getting to know Tam on her own territory. Forging a link between him and her family.

She pushed the coffee mug aside and collecting the white slip tucked under it, she made her way to the girl on the cash register. It was with a strange reluctance that she got back into her car and headed for home. She knew what that reluctance stemmed from. She could picture her parents, especially her father who now had first hand knowledge of the camp and its operation, plying her with questions. All she wanted to do was forget.

***

They were there as she parked on the driveway.

"Lindy, love." Her father enveloped her in a bear hug and for all her past resentment when he'd organized her life; there was nothing she wanted more than to put her head on his shoulder and weep for what might have been. She realized how many times he had mended her woes and how she had taken that support for granted even resented him for what had seemed like interference.

When he released her she was immediately kissed and hugged by her mother and led inside.

"Now," her mother said as soon as they were seated in the kitchen, the coffeepot on the stove. "Tell me all about the camp and the role you played. Your father was very proud of you. He hasn't stopped telling me what a wonderful set up it is. You'll be going back of course."

The silence lasted just a shade too long and Belinda turned hastily to her father. "That was a wonderful gesture of yours, Dad. The sewing machines." She went on to tell him about Mary's enthusiasm and the fashion parade.

He nodded as she spoke but his eyes never left her face and she knew that he was looking far beneath the bright expression and the enthusiastic recounting of the happenings at the camp. He hadn't made his millions without being an astute judge of character and without an ability to look beneath the surface and understand the workings of the minds of others.

When she pleaded tiredness and a need to unpack they left her to it, but she felt it was only a matter of time before her father asked some very pertinent questions. Mentally she prepared herself but the fact that it was her mother who fired the first salvo made nonsense of that preparation.

Belinda was making a half-hearted attempt to sort her clothes when her mother joined her in the bedroom. Never one to beat about the bush her mother's gaze locked with Belinda's.

"You're not going back are you?"

"No. Oh, it was a wonderful experience but there are reasons why I would be better off looking for a permanent position. Probably at a hospital."

"You prefer hospital work?" There it was again. The question minus the fancy wrapping.

She had never been able to lie to her mother or to anyone for that matter. "Not exactly."

"Is the 'not exactly' connected to the director, Tam Fletcher?"

She was well informed but then her father always did his homework.

Belinda drew in a deep breath. She might as well meet her mother's direct attack head on. "Yes. You could say that. We are not entirely compatible. The children in the camp need absolute harmony. It would be difficult to maintain that under the circumstances."

"What circumstances, Lindy."

"Mum, I really don't want to discuss this."

Her mother took her hands in a fierce grip. "But you must. You bottled up all that anguish when Nick was killed. You mustn't go down that road again. You could have been killed, Lindy. You weren't. Take your second chance at life and grab it with both hands. You've never been incompatible with anyone. There is more to this than that. Don't let him go if you love him."

Belinda looked in amazement at her mother. She had always been a passionate woman and Belinda had never had any doubts as to the love that existed between her mother and father. She had never thought of her parents overcoming obstacles but from a position of maturity she realized now that the early years of her mother's marriage would have been fraught with difficulties.

She hadn't lied when she'd told Tam they hadn't always been wealthy and her father had worked long and hard to make his money. There would have been times when her mother had to put up with adversity.

"Don't be a coward, Lindy. All the worthwhile things in life are worth fighting for." Her mother squeezed her hands and left her alone.

It sounded so simple but how would her parents react when they knew the truth. It was obvious her father thought the sun shone from Tam but how would he feel when he found out the part Tam had played in her accident. Apart from the fact that he could have caused the death of their daughter he may have contributed to the death of the young man they regarded almost as a son.

Belinda pressed her fingers against her pounding head. There was no solution. It would always be there and even if they could all accept that fate had played a bizarre trick, who would know when the whole thing would erupt like a simmering sore and cause an insidious poison that would destroy all their happiness?

***

One week went by with agonizing slowness and then another. Belinda knew that she would have to let Tam know officially that she wouldn't be taking part in the next camp. No date had been set. A lot of evaluation would take place and as a member of the staff she should really be taking part in that.

Her father's announcement that he was going to Brisbane on business took her by surprise but it shouldn't have. He often went far a field in his line of work. He dabbled in real estate all over the place and he like to keep up with the type of developments that took place in the capital.

Belinda filled her time socializing with her mother and catching up with her own friends. She had never felt less like interacting with other people but she knew that life went on and she had to be a part of it.

Her father returned full of enthusiasm and with a burning desire to take a sudden trip to the Barrier Reef. "I'm taking your mother on a holiday," he announced. A wicked grin spit his still handsome features. "A second honeymoon, if you like."

That statement left Belinda in no doubt that she wasn't invited. Not that she wanted to go. She joined in the spirit of the occasion. "Are you sure that's not fifth or sixth honeymoon, Dad? You seem to have them on a regular basis."

"Why not?" he asked. "Keeps us young. Now, what about you, Lindy? You don't mind staying here on your own. There's plenty of security, but I must admit I'll feel happier if there's someone living in the house."

"Of course. I'll be fine," she grinned. "Go and enjoy your er… second honeymoon."

In a flurry of packing and last minute organizing, they were gone. At first Belinda found the silence in the great empty house daunting, but gradually she settled down and began to take stock of her life. A job was her first priority but she would have to make contact with Tam and resign from her position as Occupational Therapist.

***

The first two days after her parents had left were easy enough to fill but the weekend loomed ominously. The fact that there were more people around accentuated her own loneliness. She contemplated going to a movie but she knew that going to a crowded movie theater on her own would only highlight her solitary state.

In the end she went out and rented a video. She bought some fresh seafood and occupied herself making pasta with an elaborate seafood sauce. It took an hour to prepare and when she finally turned off the stove she looked at the attractive meal she had prepared and decided she couldn't eat a morsel.

Disgusted with her capricious appetite and her inability to settle to anything, she wandered into the family room and put the videocassette into the player. She fiddled with the volume and thought at first the loud pealing noise was featured on the film. She started when she realized it was someone at her front door.

Remembering her father's interminable lectures about opening the door to strangers, she spoke through the intercom. "Who is it?"

There was just a brief moment of silence and then the voice that had haunted her dreams filled her waking hours and lodged forever in her mind came through.

"Lindy? It's Tam."

Chapter Thirteen

She stood still for seconds. It was like a dream. Perhaps she was hallucinating. The voice came through again. It was no illusion.

"Lindy, please. I need to talk to you."

She unlocked the heavy door and wrenched it open. Jim's words came flying into her mind each one striking like a missile. "He's been to hell and back."

If appearances were anything to go by, he'd made the trip again, recently. He looked haggard. His face was thinner, he had an aura of sheer exhaustion, but his eyes were bright as they targeted hers. He stepped inside and silently took her in his arms.

"I've missed you, Lindy. You'll never know how much. I thought I'd lost you. Perhaps I have, but I can't let you go without putting up a fight to keep you."

She leaned against him absorbing everything about him that was dear to her. His hard muscled chest, the warmth of his strong lean fingers, his own unique smell. After long seconds where they just held each other, neither speaking, barely breathing, she looked up at him. "I love you, Tam. Life without you is just an existence."

"I know, my darling. Believe me I know."

She eased back from him. "But you wanted me to go. I could sense that."

He drew in a deep shuddering breath. "Yes. At the time, I knew that neither of us could come to terms with the cruel vagaries of fate."

He pulled her head against his shoulder. "There was more to it than that. I needed to find out, if possible, exactly where I fitted into the scenario of your accident and if there was anyway that I could redeem the situation. One thing has been clear in my mind since that night we…" He paused. "No, before we made love, and that was that I have never felt such love as I feel for you. My life has taken a few twists, some hard to come to terms with, and I was almost afraid to love, but with you, I knew from day one that I would spend my life loving you."

"But you didn't even like me." Her bewilderment was obvious, and he smiled, tilting her chin to look into her eyes.

"That's what I told myself," he said. "As a defense mechanism it was an abject failure."

Releasing her chin he put an arm around her. "Can we go and sit down. I have a great deal to tell you. Lindy, some of what I need to explain to you will upset you. The way ahead for us may not be smooth, and you could still feel that despite our feelings for each other you don't want to share my life."

"But I do…" she began.

He shook his head. "You need to be sure, Lindy. I don't want the sort of relationship, free and unfettered, that so many people indulge in today. I want it all. Marriage, children and total commitment. "

His words echoed the wishes of her own heart but she knew he was right. They couldn't go into a lifetime commitment without clearing their lives of all the emotional baggage that weighed them down.

They sat together in the large leather settee in the family room and Tam faced her taking both her hands in his.

"I have been able to identify with you from the beginning, Lindy. Who better to recognize someone bowed down with guilt than a fellow sufferer? I managed to hide mine under a harsh cynicism, to feel that you were indulging yourself in self pity, when deep down I was doing exactly the same thing."

"Was it something to do with your brother's death?"

"Yes. It had everything to do with Andrew's death. To do with his life as well. I told you that my parents were determined to see me do medicine when I showed the inclination and promise. I grabbed the chance with both hands, leaving Andrew to help out on the farm."

She could sense his pain. At the same time she felt that he had come to terms with that pain. He no longer had that self-derogatory note in his voice as he told her about his earlier life.

"Doing medicine proved to be much harder than I thought. Even with my family's help, money was always a problem and when I wasn't studying I was working to make ends meet."

No wonder he'd thought she'd had it easy, and she had, but somehow she didn't think he really resented her wealth.

He read her mind. "Your wealth means nothing to me, Lindy. It never did. I just used it as another tool to distance myself from you. The feelings I had for you terrified me. I'm not a superstitious person but everyone I have loved has gone and I've been left feeling that in some way I let them down."

She squeezed his hands hard. "Tam you're one of the most responsible people I know. You'd never let anyone down." A sliver of fear pierced her. She still didn't know the details of his part in the accident. Had he been irresponsible and was that what he felt might be a stumbling block to their future? It seemed so out of character.

"I felt that I let my parents down when they died within months of each other but nothing that I could have done would have prevented their deaths. My mother had cancer and my father's heart had been failing for years. I suspect that when my mother died he didn't want to go on. At the time I felt that I should have tried new innovative treatments for my mother but I realize now that I would have been appeasing my own conscience, not helping her."

"I felt that Andrew had missed his chance at a higher education, but when my parents died I insisted he keep the farm for himself. He enjoyed wheeling and dealing and making the land earn money as it had never earned it before. At first I was horrified at what he was doing but then I realized it was the only way to go. He assured me that he intended keeping the core of the farm intact and continuing the dairy tradition, albeit in a smaller way.

Once I knew that he was happy, and he became quite wealthy, I felt less guilty about the sacrifices he'd made. We didn't see each other all that often. Andrew was still involved in the dairy scene, going to field days and conferences, and generally keeping the farm running smoothly."

His grip on her hands tightened, almost painfully. "He had always been strong and healthy. Life on the farm had given him a strong physical appearance and he was never sick." He gave a rough derogatory laugh. "I envied him his fitness. Lindy, I never suspected a brain tumor."

It was wrenched from within him and suddenly she saw the cause of his anguish. He was a physician, a specialist in diagnoses, but his brother had developed and died from a fatal illness. She sucked in a deep breath. That didn't mean that he was in anyway responsible for Andrew's death. Brain tumors could develop rapidly. Some of them occurred with devastating speed, growing and causing death in a very short time.

She searched around for a way to help him. "Did Andrew have any symptoms? Often people hide their illnesses very well and those close to them are the last to know."

He let go of her hands and leaned back against the sofa pulling her with him. Her head rested on his shoulder as she looked into his eyes. For a moment he closed them as if pulling his thoughts together. Remembering.

"If he did, he didn't share them with Helen or me."

Helen, of course. In a sense she would have been closer to Andrew than Tam. He spoke again confirming her thoughts.

"In the aftermath Helen went through the same self torture that I did. She saw Andrew much more frequently than I and she had no suspicion that he was ill. With hindsight she remembered him having a couple of bad headaches just before he was hospitalized and she thought they were migraines. I knew nothing of any of this but if I had kept in closer contact I would have."

He was silent for a long time, and she didn't know how to help him. Circumstances had played havoc with his life just as they had with hers. It was almost as if their destinies had been mapped out and they had to accept that.

When he spoke he echoed her thoughts. "I suppose one can't fight fate, and there was no treatment even if given earlier that could have saved Andrew. The tumor was a particularly vicious type of malignancy and it was a mercy that he was spared treatment that would have done little to prolong his life."

He drew her close and kissed the top of her head. "I suppose the shock of his death and my guilt complex at being given the better education all combined to make me feel a responsibility that wasn't really mine. Andrew was his own person, his own keeper. He knew I cared deeply for him even though we didn't see each other very often."

"And Helen?" So much of Helen's earlier behavior was understandable now. She'd had her own battle to overcome.

"She's fine. Unless I'm mistaken she and Billy's Dad have something going. They're such opposites it will probably work out."

"Is that why you felt a special affinity with Billy? Because he had a brain tumor?"

"Yes. Billy's case is quite different though. I wouldn't want you to think he's likely to die. His tumor was benign. It was the size and location that caused his disabilities but fortunately they seem to be temporary. He'll be fine."

Her arms crept around his neck. More than anything she wanted to hold him. They had both been through bad times, but now, surely now they could start afresh, together.

Gently he unwound her arms, leaving her feeling bereft. He'd told her he loved her. She felt the cold fingers of rejection clutch at her heart.

He sensed her distress, his arms slid to her shoulders and he looked into her eyes. "Lindy, we still need to talk about the accident. You were very likely right when you said it was my car that drifted into your path. It is an unusual shape and color, not to mention the distinctive emblem that was on the side."

It didn't matter she told herself fiercely. He had been suffering from grief at the loss of his brother. She should have realized that before. It would have affected his concentration.

"You see," he went on. "It hasn't always been my car. In fact it's the last sort of car I would chose to buy, but it meant the world to Andrew and after his death I kept it."

"Andrew! It was his car?"

"Yes. He was driving it that weekend. He was in Rockhampton at a conference and the venue was close to where you went to visit Nick's grandmother. I suppose we can never be completely certain, but I imagine he was suffering some loss of concentration perhaps even dizziness from the tumor. He was a totally safe driver. He wouldn't have been driving under the influence. "His sudden smile was tinged with sadness. "He drank milk by the gallon. Promoting his own products."

"Oh, Tam. It's an incredible coincidence isn't it?"

"Yes one of life's nastier quirks." He looked into her eyes. "Lindy, you know the truth now. Can you live with the knowledge that my brother contributed to the grief and hell that you have been through?"

She didn't have to answer. She threw her arms around him and held him tightly. "Poor Andrew." She shed tears for the man she would never know.

Tam kissed away her tears, gentle soothing caresses that soon turned to passion. Their emotions had been put on hold for too long and threatened to hurtle them towards the ultimate conclusion.

Tam eased away. "I promised you I wouldn't rush you," he said brushing her hair back from her face." He hesitated for a moment. "There have been times in my life when I've wished I could turn back time, but never more so than the first time, the only time, we made love. I wish I'd known you were a virgin. I'd have taken more care, done everything differently."

"You told me you wouldn't have done it at all," she said, unable to resist teasing him.

"A rash statement without much foundation," he said. "I suppose I was still deceiving myself that there was no commitment between us, that we were just exploring a physical attraction, but I've known from day one that you were the only woman I wanted to spend my life with."

"You can always show me how you would have done things differently," she said, a little shocked at her own audacity.

"So I could," he grinned. "Especially as we have this huge house all to ourselves."

Her eyes opened wide. "How did you know that?"

"Inside job." He said. "I've got a mole on the premises."

Suddenly all the pieces clicked into place. "Dad," she said. "He saw you in Brisbane didn't he."

"Yes, but don't go adding two and two together and coming up with five," he warned her. "If you think your father has been organizing your life again, then you're wrong."

"But he went to Brisbane. He went to see you didn't he? There was no project to check."

"He came because I rang him and asked for advice," Tam said.

She opened her mouth and shut it again. Her father would thrive on that. Tam would have him as adviser-in-chief for the rest of his life.

"When you told me that it was possible that my car was involved in your accident, I was shocked and confused. I realized almost immediately that Andrew could have been involved. The likelihood that my brother had caused the death of your husband in such shocking circumstances seemed no different than if I had been responsible myself."

She shivered, remembering his reaction and his sudden rejection at the camp.

He drew her close. "I realize I probably overreacted but it seemed like the death knell of all my hopes. I retreated to the house to try to sort my thoughts out and to see if I could pin point Andrew's actions about that time. Jim has records and a first class memory and he was able to confirm that Andrew would have been in the vicinity and that he hadn't been well before he left."

She put a hand against his cheek and he turned his mouth into her palm.

"I love you so much, Lindy. I didn't cope with the thought that I had finally lost you. When you came up to the house I was in a deep depression and the aftermath of a couple of stiff whiskies."

"Yes. I could see that," she drew in a sharp breath. She'd certainly added a few facts together and come up with a totally erroneous conclusion."

"Did you think I'd gone on a bender?" he said with a wry smile.

"No." She could never tell him what she'd thought.

"Or did you assume that drunk driving was a possibility?"

Her silence spoke for itself.

He hugged her against him. "It was an understandable conclusion," he said. "I shouldn't have left you to try to sort through the mess yourself."

"Why Dad?" she asked. "Why did you need his advice? Surely you didn't think I would blame Andrew or you for something that was beyond all of our control."

"I got the very strong impression that your father thought of Nick as the son he'd never had." Tam looked at her thoughtfully. "I needed to know what his reaction would be when he learned the truth. You're a close-knit family, Lindy. Our relationship, our whole future would be difficult if your father couldn't accept me as part of that family. "

"So you told him everything," she asked.

"Absolutely," he stated firmly.

She looked a little apprehensive.

He smiled, that rarely seen, devastating smile. "Not that," he reassured her, "but he isn't a fool and he knows that we love each other and I have his permission to marry you."

"You certainly got that all cut and dried," she laughed.

"The next camp is tentatively organized to start in five weeks time. I'm hoping that you'll come as resident occupational therapist, but more importantly as my wife."

She smiled, "Nothing and nobody could stop me."

They'd spent a long time getting their lives back on track and Belinda realized that if Tam had driven to Rockhampton he had endured a seven hour car journey to come to her.

"You must be tired, and hungry," she said, suddenly concerned for his welfare.

He stood up and stretched cramped muscles, pulling her up against him. "Tired? No. Hungry? Ravenous." His mouth claimed hers in a kiss so full of love and longing that she knew that his hunger wasn't the conventional kind."

A laugh bubbled through her lips. "Seafood pasta," she said. "Or would you rather live on love."

"What do you think," he said his lips smiling against her cheek.

"I know what I want," she said.

He drew back and looked into her eyes.

"I'll show you around the house," she teased. "Starting with my bedroom."

As she pulled him towards the door of the family room he hesitated. "Lindy, I can wait, if that's what you'd feel happier with. It will only be a few weeks."

Her violet eyes danced. "If I have my way, and don't forget you had me tagged as a spoilt brat, it will only be a few minutes."

He followed her meekly. "I'm shocked," he said. "I'm also a little scared of your father. I'm sure he wouldn't approve of our torrid lovemaking."

"Unless I'm very much mistaken," Lindy said, "he's indulging in some torrid lovemaking of his own."

Tam watched as she self-consciously removed a set of decorative lacy pillows from her bed. Her hand hesitated as she went to turn down the bedspread. She turned toward him, her need for direction and reassurance shadowed in her face.

He swept her into his arms. "What happened to that cheeky imp who was going to seduce me in minutes?"

She smiled. "She doesn't really know how to go about seducing a man, even one she loves to distraction."

"How about we forget the seduction scene and just make wonderful tender love?" Tam suggested.

Her head rested on his shoulder and he began to stroke her hair, dropping light kisses onto the top of her head. Slowly, his hands moved inch by inch down her back, stroking and soothing. As he pulled her into close contact with his aroused body she felt her own body leap forward in response.

He kissed her mouth gently, just a light brush at first but as she leaned into him his kisses became stronger, tasting, tantalizing, causing her blood to heat and her heart to hammer.

"Oh, Tam," she whispered. "It's as if we become one person. Two halves of a whole."

"Yes, sweetheart. That’s exactly how it is now and forever."

He began to undress her. As each article of clothing fell to the floor he stopped to kiss the newly exposed skin. " You're so beautiful," he said his voice throbbing with emotion. His tongue sampled the smooth olive skin of her shoulders moving down to taste her full breasts.

"What is it?" he asked when she drew back a shade. "Don't you like that? You must tell if I do something you don't like," he insisted. "Love is a two-way thing. I would never want you to feel repulsed by anything I did."

She shook her head. "It's not that. It's my breasts. They’re rather full, sort of top heavy. I've never felt comfortable with them."

He smiled showing his strong white teeth. "I think they're delectable," he reassured her. "I was impressed right from the start."

She drew in a surprised breath. "You mean from when I first came to work with you?"

"I mean when I saw you standing there waiting for me to come and interview you. When I saw how lovely you were my eyes were almost out on stalks. I immediately went into defense mode."

"Did you? You seemed a bit prickly."

He laughed. "I take it no pun was intended."

She blushed when she realized what he meant. "I wouldn't have had that kind of effect on you so early in our acquaintance."

He picked her up and placed her gently on the bed. "You'd better believe it."

He stripped off his clothes and the effect she was having on him at that moment was quite obvious.

"Is this the man who was going to wait for a few weeks?" she teased.

"With great difficulty," he said. He leaned over her. "Lindy I love you so much. There will never be enough time or enough ways for me to show you."

He did show her. This time he took it very slowly, arousing her inexperienced body to fever pitch. He kissed and caressed her in places she had dreamed about and in places she hadn't. It all seemed so right, so perfect and when the time came to join their bodies he took her gently, making sure that she stayed aroused and as desperate as he was to reach the ultimate climax.

When it came it surpassed anything she could ever have imagined. The perfect blend of mind and body as they traveled to uncharted heights together and came back to earth slowly and in unison.

They lay together without speaking for a few moments, and then Tam turned her to face him. "Nothing else in my life could ever bring me the joy that loving you does, Lindy. I feel as if I was born loving you."

She could only nod her head. Her body was still singing from his lovemaking and she wanted him to hold her the way he was holding her, forever. He held her for a very long time and inevitably their feelings stirred and reawakened.

***

It was hours later when they resurrected the seafood pasta and a bottle of wine. They had showered together, which almost put the meal back further until Tam insisted that her beautiful but inexperienced body had earned a respite.

"You realize my parents will be home in a day or two," Belinda said.

"Yes, your father kept me well informed of his movements," Tam told her. "I'm afraid I have to go back tomorrow.

"Tomorrow!" Her voice echoed her disappointment. "You'll be exhausted," she said. "Driving all that way two days in a row."

He tipped her chin up. "Darling, I flew."

"Oh! I thought I heard a car pull up as you arrived."

"You did. I caught a taxi from the airport."

"We need to make plans," he said. "If we're going to be married soon, and I'll move heaven and earth to make sure we are, we need to sort out dates and places."

***

In the end it had all been easy to arrange and five weeks later the second camp opened with a wedding. They were married in a new chapel at the campsite, donated by Tony Valentine.

This time Tam had raised no objection to his father-in-law's generous donation. "It's given him a personal interest in the camp," Tam said, "not to mention all the fun he's had terrorizing the local builders."

Belinda had worried that it might be a bit of a white elephant but she'd been wrong about the sewing machines and she was wrong about the chapel. Quite a few of the new residents at the camp and some of the former ones spent time in there.

Mary was back in the role of volunteer. "I didn't expect my first duty to be your bridesmaid," she squealed in delight when Belinda asked her. "I knew it though," she said. "I knew from the first day that you and Tam were meant for each other." She grimaced. "I didn't think you two were ever going to admit it."

"We had a few things to sort out," Belinda said. "It took a while."

"You should have taken a leaf out of Helen's book," Mary said wisely. "She just clapped eyes on Billy's Dad and he was history."

"Is she…?" If anyone knew what was going on Mary would.

"Billy told me, just as well he changed his mind about her because she's going to be his Mum," Mary informed her.

Belinda felt happy for Helen. It seemed that finally they were all coming to terms with Andrew's tragedy. He would never be forgotten but not because of the part he had played in the accident. Instead, because the farm he had loved would be vital in helping children who had their own serious problems to overcome.

The second camp was even more successful than the first, although Tam complained that a cabin with a double bed squeezed into the space of a single was no place to enjoy a working honeymoon.

"Oh, you seem quite prepared to make the best of it," Belinda teased him one morning, when they woke to assuage their mutual desire to make love.

"As long as you're beside me," he said, holding her close, "my life is complete." Her head lay on his shoulder and he kissed her glossy hair. "I'm sorry, darling, that we're spending our honeymoon working, I'll make it up to you."

"I'm very happy," she said, turning her face up to be kissed. The kiss went on forever but a loud thumping at the door caused them to fly apart like a pair of guilty teenagers.

Tam got out of bed and threw on a robe. "See what I mean," he complained. "I'm not even making love to you properly. It's always jammed in between emergencies."

It wasn't an emergency, just Mary to remind them that there was a special church service that morning.

Belinda burst out laughing. "We're part of their family. Now you know what it will be like if we have children."

"Fat chance of that," Tam complained. "We're lucky to get together at all."

A short time later Belinda stood in the chapel. It was a lovely building and certainly no white elephant. She hadn't expected a bunch of teenagers, some of whom resented the raw deal they'd received from life, to turn up for the service but the little chapel was full.

***

It was full to overflowing ten months later and Belinda stood at the front of the chapel. Tam stood beside her and her heart filled with love. The passing months had taught her that the love she had felt for Tam when she first met him was just the embryonic stage. The problems they'd had to overcome and their life together since had caused that love to grow and mature and she knew that she would love him until the day she died.

It wasn't a day to think of death but rather of life. A new life. She gazed down at her month old son Andrew. A smile hovered around her lips. For all his complaining about the poor facilities for love making, Tam must have done something right. He had said she had made his life complete but his joy when she had revealed her pregnancy had left her in no doubt that he would welcome this child and any others they might have.

After a christening party attended by past and present camp staff and patients Belinda and Tam took Andrew for a walk around the farm. They stood on a rise and looked down at the lush green pasture, the cabins dotted among the trees and the cows grazing contentedly near the barn.

Tam lifted Andrew from his pram and held him in his arms. He looked down at the campsite and the people wandering around. "He would have been happy with what we've done," he said.

Belinda knew he was thinking of his brother. "There will be many young people going on with their lives, enriched and cured by their time here," she said. "Andrew's gift of the farm to you made that possible." She drew in a long breath. "We can't bring him back but Camp Conquest will be a lifelong legacy to his memory."

She was relieved to see Tam smiling. He was looking down at his small son. "And in this young man we'll have a constant reminder. It's too early to say if he'll resemble his namesake but probably some of the Fletcher charm exists."

"Oh, what charm is that?" Belinda asked.

"You mean you've forgotten," Tam said with a wicked look in his eye. "I'll give you a little longer to regain your strength but you'd better prepare yourself for a strenuous refresher course."

"Sounds wonderful," she said. "I think I'll need a lengthy course though."

He tucked his son back in his pram, and turned to take her in his arms. "It will be wonderful, my darling, and how does about fifty or sixty years sound for the duration of the course?"

She didn't need to answer. Besides, her mouth was occupied returning his kisses.