Free A Wish and a Wedding by Margaret Way Page A

with a glance at the glittering water. “You could, but there are much better places to take a swim. Tori can show you.” Now his smouldering sapphire gaze slicked over Tori, who stood with a classy white akubra tilted nonchalantly over her eyes. “Hi!”
    â€œHi!” she responded, momentarily blinded to her surroundings. Haddo did that to her.
    â€œI like the way you call her Tori,” Chrissy said. “Everyone else calls her Vicki.”
    â€œWell, I’ve been calling her Tori so long I couldn’t possibly change,” Haddo explained, glancing back at the camp. ‘The men will be taking a break shortly. You’re welcome to stay for some billy tea—and some I guess you could call them damper scones.”
    â€œThat would be lovely!” Chrissy said, looking to Tori for approval.
    â€œBilly tea, yes. I’ll pass on the scones,” Tori drawled.
    â€œThey’re better than you think, Chrissy. Don’t let Tori put you off.” Haddo’s eyes narrowed over Tori’s small, vivid face. She had plaited her dark red hair into a silky rope that hung down her back. Her cream shirt was silk, her skintight jodhpurs a darker cream. Her riding boots, very expensive, were dark tan with a high gloss. She looked perfect for a fashion shoot, her very slim, attenuated body falling naturally into elegant lines that could have been poses, but were not. Tori had always been marvellously graceful.
    â€œWhat’s with you?” he asked.
    â€œNothing,” she retorted, with heightened crispness.
    â€œYou’re not usually a woman of few words.”
    â€œWhy is it your voice always has that thread of mockery?”
    He shrugged. “I don’t plan it. But come along. Everybody knows you, but I can introduce Chrissy.” Haddo moved off, leaving the girls to follow.
    Chrissy’s big brown eyes sparkled. Most of the men were middle-aged, but there was one young blond guy, in a check shirt and tight jeans, with a black akubra shoved back on his head. He looked kinda cute…
    â€œWho’s the blond guy?” she whispered urgently, taking Tori’s arm. “He looks a bit like one of those western movie stars, don’t you think?”
    â€œAs a matter of fact, no,” Tori answered truthfully.
    â€œCome on—he does! ” Chrissy insisted, as if she had big plans.
    â€œWell, maybe just a teeny-weeny bit,” Tori relented. The jackeroo, Shane McGuire, looked nothing like a movie star in her opinion, but he was nice-looking, with blue eyes and blond curly hair. Better yet, everyone liked him. But there was the fact Chrissy had lived through a couple of very harrowing years with an abusive partner. Shouldn’t she be more cautious?
    â€œWhat’s his name?” was Chrissy’s follow-up question.
    â€œBehave yourself, Chrissy,” Tori admonished. So much for Zack, she thought—and good riddance. “Okay, it’s Shane McGuire. He’s the jackeroo.”
    â€œHe’s not married?” Chrissy queried. “If you say he is, I think I’ll cry.”
    â€œSave your tears.” Tori laughed. “Haddo doesn’t hire married jackeroos. They have to learn the ropes before they can think of settling down. Anyway, Shane’s only about twenty, twenty-one. Life hasn’t properly begun at that age.” Hadn’t she made a total fool of herself at sixteen?
    â€œIt began for me when Mum died,” Chrissy said, shrugging off some pretty horrendous times.
    â€œI know. I’m sorry.” Tori, who had suffered her own bad times and because of them was empathetic, hugged Chrissy’s thin shoulders.
    â€œThat’s okay. I’ve found a pal like you.” Chrissy smiled. “Am I allowed to speak to him?”
    â€œOf course you are.”
    â€œI mean when you aren’t around.” Chrissy watched in delight as a big flock of yellow-crested cockatoos came to rest