Claiming His Family. Barbara Hannay

leave it where it lay. Discarded. Dead and buried.

      As they headed out through automatic sliding glass doors and into the parking area Joey’s piping voice and his endless questions added to her tension.

      ‘Do you drive a pick-up, Dad?’

      ‘They call pick-up trucks utes in Australia,’ she snapped.

      ‘Utes?’ Joey pulled a face. ‘That sounds weird.’ Luke grinned at him. ‘We have lots of weird things down here.’

      ‘Yeah.’ Joey skipped excitedly. ‘Do you have lots of weird animals on your ranch, Dad?’

      ‘Plenty of roos. And crocs.’

      ‘Crocs?’ The boy came to an abrupt halt and his face paled visibly. ‘Do you hunt crocodiles?’

      Luke looked back over his shoulder and his grey eyes actually twinkled. ‘Not before breakfast.’

      ‘Joey’s been watching that Australian television show about the crocodile hunter,’ Erin explained.

      She didn’t add that he’d had several nightmares involving crocodiles and deadly snakes. Instead she slipped a comforting arm around her son. ‘You’re not too keen on crocodiles, are you, baby?’

      Luke came to a stop and he frowned as he watched her fingers rubbing at Joey’s shoulder. For some reason she felt suddenly self-conscious under his scrutiny and her hand grew still. Then she lifted it away and clenched it at her side.

      ‘I hope you haven’t made him into a sissy,’ Luke said quietly.

      ‘Of course I haven’t.’ Erin glared at him. ‘That was uncalled for.’

      Over Joey’s head, their eyes fought a silent battle. And then there was a barely perceptible nod of Luke’s head before he switched his attention back to the boy. ‘Don’t worry, mate. We’ll keep well away from crocodiles while you’re staying with me.’

      They’d stopped near a long silver-grey sedan and, to Erin’s surprise, Luke extracted a key from his pocket and pressed its central locking device.

      She’d never seen Luke drive a city car before. Of course, he would have hired the car for the brief time he was in Sydney, but it was silly how little, unimportant things suddenly seemed to take on improbable significance. A sleek, sporty sedan didn’t fit her image of Luke. Her memories of him involved uncomfortable, old and battered dust-covered utes, or sturdy four-wheel drives with clearance so high she’d almost needed a ladder to climb into them.

      ‘Mom put stars and stripes stickers on our luggage so we could find it,’ Joey commented proudly as Luke began to stow their suitcases into the car’s trunk.

      Luke straightened and let his gaze slide sideways to where Erin stood. ‘That’s a good idea,’ he said, looking at her. ‘Your mom’s a very organised lady.’

      Something bright—perhaps it was a trick of the light—seemed to flicker in his eyes and Erin felt a sudden need to plough nervous fingers through her hair.

      Luke watched her action, his expression faintly worried. He was frowning as he closed the boot, and the frown held as he walked to open the front passenger door and motioned to Erin to take a seat.

      Oh, help. The tension between them was suffocating, and it was only going to get worse if she had to sit there beside him.

      ‘Can I sit in the front with you, Dad?’

      For a beat or two Luke didn’t seem to hear Joey, but then, with deliberate effort, he turned to the boy.

      ‘Can I?’ Joey persisted.

      ‘You know children should always ride in the back,’ Erin reminded him quickly.

      ‘Your mother’s right,’ said Luke.

      Joey pouted.

      ‘I’ll sit in the back with you, honey.’ She didn’t look at Luke so she missed his reaction to this. She took Joey’s hand. She loved the touch of his still baby-soft skin and now she wanted to feel it again, to absorb the comfort of his small, warm hand clasping hers. Needing her.

      More than ever she needed her son to need her now.

      She and Joey had never been separated for more than a day or two, and that had only been when she’d been forced to take a short business trip. On those few occasions she’d left him with her mother, whose apartment was only two blocks away.

      The thought of parting with her little boy for two long months was bad enough, but the reality of turning him over to the father he idolised was scary.

      Going to Warrapinya would be a thrilling adventure for Joey. The Outback was astonishing, like nothing the boy had ever seen. Just the name Warrapinya stirred Erin, bringing a rush of memories of a unique and dramatic landscape—and good and bad reactions to match—at times a lift to her heart and at others a shudder down her spine.

      She’d experienced the best and the worst of times there.

      Joey, however, wouldn’t see the problems. He’d love Luke’s ranch. And he’d love Luke, who could be very charming and entertaining when he set his mind to it. She knew that only too well.

      But…what if…what if Joey had such a great time with his dad that he didn’t want to come back to her?

      Oh, damn. She’d made a vow that she wouldn’t give in to negative thoughts, and already she was letting her insecurities get the better of her. She had to stomp on them. Quickly.

      Joey loved her. Erin knew that. She must never doubt it for a moment. They had a wonderful relationship full of love and easygoing warmth and companionship and fun.

      Luke, she realised, was watching her again, but this time he’d schooled his features so there was no unsettling flicker and no chilling contempt. His gaze was devoid of emotion as he opened the car’s back door for them.

      ‘I’ve booked you into a hotel in Woolloomooloo, near the harbour,’ he said as he closed the door, and then he slipped into the driver’s seat and started the car.

      It was late afternoon and the peak-hour rush had begun. Heavy, dull winter skies loomed. At home it was summer but down here in Sydney the people on the pavements were bundled inside coats and scarves and hurrying, as if eager to reach home and warmth. The threat of rain hovered, and in this dull light the city, famous for its bright and pretty harbour, looked unwelcoming.

      But nothing could cloud Joey’s happiness. From the back seat he leaned forward, straining against his seat belt so he could watch Luke.

      Erin closed her eyes and let her head sink back against the luxuriously soft dove-grey leather upholstery. She felt exhausted, exhausted by the whole process of getting here, by the tension of it all, and the long flight followed by the tedious process of collecting their baggage, of making their way through Security, through Immigration and Customs.

      Then the ordeal of seeing Luke again.

      Oh, God. Without warning her mind flashed back to the last time she’d seen Luke, the day she’d left Warrapinya with Joey screaming in her arms.

      It had been horrendous, the very worst thing she’d ever experienced. She’d relived it in her dreams a hundred times and each time she woke to find herself shaking and in tears. Even now she was falling apart just remembering.

      She’d stood on the homestead veranda at the top of the front stairs, with her bags packed and tears streaming down her face, waiting for Nails, the Aboriginal odd-job man, who was going to drive her to the nearest airport at Cloncurry.

      But, before Nails had arrived, Luke had appeared out of nowhere, charging up on a galloping horse and bearing an enormous bouquet of Outback flowers—golden wattle, red grevillea and purple wildflowers.

      ‘What’s going on?’ he’d roared when he saw her suitcases.

      Over Joey’s cries she’d called back, ‘I can’t