One-Night Pregnancy Read Free Page A

racks of neatly sorted horse gear: headstalls, bridles, saddles and brushes. Three old thin towels hung on a railing, along with two light horse rugs.
    There was also a wood-burning stove, with a chimney going through the roof. It was packed with paper and billets of wood.
    ‘Glory be,’ Adam remarked. He raised his voice againstthe drumming of rain on the tin roof. ‘In these conditions you could call this place the Numinbah Hilton.’
    Bridget chuckled. Then she sobered. ‘Those children—’ she began.
    ‘Bridget.’ He turned to look down at her. ‘We did our best. It’s a small miracle we weren’t drowned in the process. They will be fine, riding it out somehow. Just hold onto that thought.’
    ‘But I was wondering—there must be a road to here, and maybe we could go for help.’
    ‘I had the same thought,’ he said. ‘Do you have any idea where we are?’
    ‘Well, no, but—’
    ‘Neither do I,’ he broke in. ‘In fact I’m thoroughly disorientated after all the twists and turns that creek took. We could get even more hopelessly lost, whereas in the daylight this could be a good point of reference. We may even be able to flag a passing helicopter. There’s bound to be some State Emergency Services scouting the area after a storm like this. But, listen, just in case there’s a house attached to this paddock and shed, I am going to scout around a bit. As for you—’ he scanned the dirty, sopping length of her ‘—first of all, do you have any sprains, strains, fractures or the like?’
    Her eyes widened. ‘No, I don’t think so. Just a few bruises and scrapes.’
    ‘OK—now, you may not approve of this suggestion, but it’s an order, actually, and you can hold it against me as much as you like.’ For a moment there was a rather mercilessly teasing glint in his eyes.
    She stiffened her spine against that glint. ‘What order?’ she asked with hauteur.
    He studied her tilted chin and smiled briefly. ‘I don’t know if you noticed a tank at the corner of the shed, collecting rainwater from the roof?’
    She shook her head.
    ‘Well, it’s there, and it’s overflowing. After I’ve gone, go out, take your clothes off, and stand under the overflow pipe. Wash all the mud, blood and whatever off yourself, then stand under the water for a couple of minutes. Do your bruises a world of good. But I’ll get the fire going first.’ He turned away.
    ‘I—’ she started to say mutinously.
    ‘Bridget,’ he returned dangerously over his shoulder, ‘don’t argue.’
    ‘But I’ve got nothing to wear!’
    ‘Yes, you have.’ He pointed to one of the railings. ‘You can wrap yourself in one of those horse rugs.’
    He did get the fire and three paraffin lamps going before he left.
    ‘Take care,’ she said. ‘I—I’m not too keen about being left on my own here. Naturally I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you, either.’ She grimaced. ‘That sounds like an afterthought if ever I heard one! But I do mean it.’
    He inclined his head and hid the smile in his eyes. ‘Thank you. I won’t be going too far. Not only because I don’t want to get lost, but also because I don’t want the torch to run out on me.’ He touched her casually on the cheek with his fingertips. ‘You take care too.’
    She watched him walk out of the shed into the rainswept night and swallowed back the cry that rose in her throat—the urge to tell him she’d go with him. Swallowed it because she knew that her brief resurgence of energy, such as it was, would not survive.
    So she forced herself to examine his suggestion—or order. She looked down at herself. She was a mess of mud, his shirt was caked with it, and below her legs were liberally streaked with it.
    It made sense, in other words, to get clean. If only she had something else to wear afterwards other than a horse rug…
    It was like the answer to a prayer. Some instinct prompted her to look under the pillows on the bed, and she discovered a clean