had to know all the facts before he could protect her, Brody rationalized. If she was in trouble, he’d do everything in his power to help her. “So I have to know,” he said as he hit the keys.
“Payton Harwell,” he read. “Over one thousand hits?” Brody clicked on the first one and found her name mentioned as the winner of a horse show. But right below that was a startling headline: Payton Harwell to Wed Heir to Whitman Fortune.
He clicked on the article and an instant later, a photo of Payton and her fiancé appeared. He scanned through the text beneath it and stopped at the wedding date. “The couple will be married on the island of Fiji in late April with close friends and relatives in attendance. the bride will wear a gown by designer Sophia Carone.”
Late April? If Payton had been married in late April and he’d met her the first of June, then her marriage hadn’t lasted more than a month. “Oh, shit,” Brody muttered. Had he been having a naughty on a nightly basis with a married woman?
There weren’t many rules in Brody’s book when it came to sex, but not bedding another man’s wife was one of them. After witnessing the problems in his parents’ marriage, he’d vowed never to be involved in breaking up a family. Besides, there had always been plenty of single women willing to jump into bed with him, he’d had no need to do it with the married sort.
He leaned back in his chair and studied the photo. They looked happy, their arms wrapped around each other, smiling for the photographer. Worse, they looked as if they belonged together, living in some fancy mansion in New York with servants to tend to their every need.
Well, at least she wasn’t a criminal, Brody mused. She was simply a runaway wife. He paused. Or maybe a runaway bride. There was no proof that she’d ever gone through with the wedding. Maybe she’d arrived in Fiji and decided marriage just wasn’t for her.
“Is there anything I can help you with?”
Brody quickly clicked back to the search engine, then glanced over his shoulder at Mrs. Willey. “No. Nothing. Just catching up on a few of my old friends.” He stood, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. “Thanks. I’m in a bit of a hurry right now, but I’ll stop by soon and pick up some books.”
“You do that,” she said with a wide smile. “Be sure to come on a school day if you can. I’m sure the students would love to talk to you.”
Brody strode out the front door of the library into the midday sun. He headed back to the Land Rover, parked near the coffeeshop. He’d have to decide just how to discuss his discovery with Payton. Though his rule regarding married women still stood, it seemed rather pointless to avoid sex now that that horse was already out of the barn.
Hell, the only way to avoid wanting her was to leave Queensland altogether. He could no more control his desire for Payton Harwell than he could stop breathing.
THE PLANE TOUCHED DOWN as the afternoon sun hovered near the western horizon. Payton peered out the window, catching sight of one of the station’s utes, the name she’d learned to call the pick-up trucks that nearly everyone drove. She saw Callum leaning against the truck as the plane taxied to the near end of the runway, but Brody was nowhere to be seen.
When Teague had turned off the single engine, Callum approached and opened the door. He helped Payton out, grabbing shopping bags as she jumped lightly from the plane. He then turned back to wrap his hands around Gemma’s waist. Payton watched as their gazes met and he gave her a quick kiss.
Though Gemma hadn’t said anything about her relationship with the eldest Quinn, it was clear to everyone that something was going on. Callum didn’t smile much, but he always seemed to be smiling when Gemma was present.
Callum helped Teague secure the plane before all four of them hopped into the truck and headed toward the house. Payton had hoped to find Brody standing on the porch or lounging on her bunk, but she was disappointed.
“He took off about a half hour ago,” Callum said. “On horseback, toward the west. I’m sure he’ll be back soon.”
Payton forced a smile. She’d been looking forward to seeing Brody all day. She’d bought a sexy new swimsuit for the hot tub and some lacy underwear that she was certain he’d appreciate. Her nails and toes looked perfect and her hair smelled like fruit. In short, she was almost irresistible.
She set her bags inside the door of the bunkhouse then turned and jogged down the front steps. “I’m going to ride out and meet him,” she said.
“It’s getting dark,” Callum warned.
“Don’t worry, I won’t go far. I can see the lights of the station from pretty far away.”
She ran to the stables and found a gentle mount, then quickly saddled the horse. She tied a bedroll on the back in case she and Brody decided to make a stop at the swimming hole again. Then, after swinging her leg over the saddle, she steered the horse out of the stable and into the waning light.
Though she’d ridden to the pond with Brody the other night, this was the first time she’d been on a horse alone since her fall nine years before. “Like riding a bike,” she said, settling into the rhythm.
She urged the horse into a relaxed gallop, letting the wind whip her hair into a riot of curls. It was still easy to see where she was going, the last rays of the sun shining on the red dirt of the outback.
As she rode, her thoughts wandered to Brody, to spending the evening alone with him. Brisbane had been so busy and exciting that she’d wished he’d been there to share it with her. Maybe next weekend they could go together, as he’d suggested. They could spend some time at the beach or find a comfy hotel room and revel in absolute privacy.
As the sun dropped lower, the air became chilly and Payton drew her horse to a stop. She scanned the landscape for Brody, but it was difficult to see. Tugging gently on the reins, she turned the horse around. Her breath caught in her throat. She couldn’t see the station anymore.
Rubbing her eyes, she squinted into the distance, searching for the lights that would guide her back. Slowly, she realized she’d ridden too far, lost in her thoughts and unaware of the passing time. Everything looked the same. Starting off in the direction she’d come from, Payton kicked the horse into a gallop again. But a moment later, the horse stumbled in an unseen gully and she found herself thrown forward.
Payton hit the ground with a hard thud, knocking the wind out of her. Groaning, she lay back in the dirt and took a quick inventory. Her limbs were still intact, no broken bones, just wounded pride. Levering to her feet, she brushed the dirt off her jeans and remounted, but as soon as she spurred the horse forward, she could feel the animal favor its right foreleg.
Sliding off again, she bent down and ran her hands over his leg. “What happened?” she cooed. There was no swelling and no broken bones. She’s seen enough stumbles in her show-jumping career to suspect that it was probably just a bruise. Though riding was possible, there was no need to put the horse under any more stress. She mentally calculated the distance and figured she probably had at least an hour’s walk.
Payton stared up at the stars, trying to remember what she’d seen in the night sky. The last traces of the day were visible on the horizon, so she grasped the reins and began to walk the opposite way, east, toward the station.
The outback looked deceptively flat, yet as she walked, she realized that a gentle rise could easily hide things in the distance. She tried to keep moving in a straight line, finding a cluster of stars to keep over her right shoulder. But it was difficult to maintain her bearings in the dark. In the end, she decided to give her horse its head. He knew how to get home better than she did.
But, to her surprise, the horse didn’t lead her back to the station. Instead, she found herself standing at a low iron gate. She hadn’t come through any fence on her way out, but the horse seemed to know what it was doing. “Do I trust the horse or do I trust myself?”
In the end, she opened the gate and led the horse through. A few seconds later, she noticed