Free Matilda's Freedom by Tea Cooper Page B

her voice dropped to a whisper, ‘we might be watched by the stockmen.’
    Unable to contain her mirth, Matilda’s laughter rang out. ‘I’m sure we are quite safe by the water’s edge of this sandy bank. It’s only in the long grass that some creature might be hiding.’ Hannah, her eyes widening with fright, skittered down the bank and ended up right next to Matilda.
    ‘It’ll be all right, Hannah. You don’t have to take your boots off if you don’t want to. Just sit down here in the shade. It’s much cooler here with the breeze blowing across the water.’
    Hannah sat down on a rock, her back poker straight and her hands clasped in her lap.
    ‘Come on, Matilda, hurry up! I want to paddle my feet in the water,’ Beth cried out, hopping up and down, unable to contain her excitement. Matilda left her boots with Hannah and picked her way across the shallow water to Beth.
    Sitting loosely in the saddle, Kit let his legs hang free of the stirrups and allowed the horse to amble at its own pace. The shadows cast along the track by the eucalyptus trees were taking the edge off the afternoon heat. What had ever possessed him to agree to leave this place?
    When Barclay had first brought up the idea of the Exhibition Universelle, Kit had been thrilled at the prospect of a trip to Europe. No colonial in their right mind would give away the opportunity to travel the world, and his introduction to John Portus had steeled his resolve. The man was a genius, his ideas nothing short of revolutionary. Portus had singlehandedly dragged the Hunter Valley kicking and screaming into the industrial era, and his flourmills and steam engines were now set to revolutionise the area.
    Kit gazed impatiently at the long paddock. The grass bobbed in the breeze, begging to be slashed. When he picked up the machinery from Sydney, the very first thing he would do was cut the paddock down and bale the grass. That would give them enough feed to last the animals through the winter and ensure a top selling price at the cattle sales.
    A shrill screech from the direction of the creek pulled him up short.
    What in heaven’s name is happening?
    From the splashing and thrashing of the water, it sounded as though an animal was in trouble, but the cry he’d heard had sounded more like a bird’s. Kit dismounted, pulling a length of rope from his saddle and tethering his horse to one of the tea trees lining the water. He strode purposefully to the bank. And stopped in his tracks.
    Laughter and excited chatter filled the air. Hannah would shriek like a scalded cat every time a drop of water came within an inch of her. Not so with Beth and Matilda—they were standing up to their thighs in the babbling water, scooping up handfuls and throwing them delightedly into the air at each other. The crystal drops glittered as they hung momentarily in the sky, flashing rainbows of colour in the bright sunshine.
    Captivated by a picture worthy of a canvas, Kit stopped in his tracks and leaned against the gnarled trunk of a tree. Matilda appeared to have successfully broken down his stepsisters’ reserves. Even Hannah was jumping up and down with excitement but somehow still managed to retain a vague air of propriety.
    Beth and Matilda’s clothes were thoroughly wet, and their breeches were rolled up to just below their knees. Matilda, who usually wore her hair braided or twisted in a knot at the base of her head, had loosened her golden locks. They had hung down her back like a silken curtain, rippling in the shadows and sunlight.
    His body thrummed with awareness as his gaze moved to the almost transparent material of her white shirt. It clung to her delightful curves, and even from this distance, he could make out the thrust of her nipples.
    Kit stifled a groan, feeling the sound low in his chest as he tightened his fingers around the rope. The sight of Matilda’s breeches clinging wetly to her shapely thighs and of rivulets of water trickling down her luscious