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‘I just need time to pack.’

‘Pack?’

‘Presumably we’ll have to stay somewhere? On the drive across, and then once in Sydney?’

‘We’ll be flying, Sarah, and coming back tonight. This close to the muster, I can’t be off-station for too long.’

* * *

Sarah had barely had a moment to give it any thought, but if she had, she might have presumed they’d be driving for hours, likely to some regional airport. She had not expected the property to have its own airstrip, with a couple of planes stored in a hangar.

‘Two planes?’

‘One for station work, one for commuting.’

‘Commuting,’ she said, as if that made sense. But there was no chance to ask any further questions. A man pulled up in a dusty white ute and stepped out of it, removing his Stetson as he walked towards them.

‘Everett,’ Tate said, extending his hand. ‘This is Sarah.’ He turned to face Sarah, and something like heat flushed her cheeks as she wondered if Tate’s right-hand man knew who she was and why she was here. ‘Everett keeps things running around here.’

Everett grinned in a way she found disarming. He was shorter than Tate, with a stockier build, blond hair, a freckled face and sea-green eyes. Whatever he might have been thinking, he was all easy, friendly charm.

‘Heading off now?’

‘Soon as we can,’ Tate agreed. Sarah could only watch as the two of them—like a well-oiled machine—began to prepare the plane for flight, checking various components, starting the engines whirring and, finally, removing the timber kept at the wheels.

‘Are you flying us to Sydney, Everett?’ she asked as he skirted the yellow line, then unlatched the airstairs.

‘Nah, Tate’s your pilot today,’ he called over his shoulder.

Tate’s hand then was around her waist, drawing her attention to his face. Her heart stammered at his proximity and the heat that fired between them, no matter how much she wished it didn’t.

Once at the stairs to the plane, he reached down and took her hand, as though to help her. It was help she didn’t need yet willingly accepted, simply because she liked the way it felt to put her hand in his.

Inside, the plane was as luxurious as she might have expected. There was one seat on either side of the aisle, three rows deep—large and comfortable, upholstered in beige leather with stained timber details. Tate watched as she sat down and buckled up. A moment later, Everett lifted his hand in farewell and latched the stairs closed.

‘Ready?’ Tate asked, pausing level with her.

She hesitated. ‘You’re seriously going to fly us?’

He gave her a quizzical expression. ‘Is that a problem?’

‘I mean, are you qualified?’

He laughed. ‘Obviously.’

‘You say that like everyone can fly a plane.’

‘Around here, most people can.’ His eyes roamed her face. ‘I wouldn’t do anything to put you at risk, Sarah. You’re perfectly safe.’

Her heart stammered until she remembered that he was really referring to their baby, not her. It didn’t matter. She felt safe, in the same way she had when she’d first met him and joked about his being an axe murderer. She’d just known he wasn’t. That she could trust him, that he wouldn’t hurt her. And she felt that now as he stepped down the aisle and into the cockpit, swinging himself into one of the pilot’s seats, flicking buttons, and then manoeuvring the plane out of the wide hangar doors with obvious skill and experience.

Once outside, the engines revved faster and louder, and then red dust was swirling on either side of the plane as they began to taxi down the airstrip, gaining speed the whole way. Tate was sitting in the seat that was diagonally placed from her own, so she could see the way his powerful hands flicked the controls, then settled a headset in place.

‘It’s about a three-hour flight to Sydney,’ he said, his voice coming through a speaker above her. ‘If you need to talk to me, there’s an intercom button to your left.’

She nodded, then realised he couldn’t see her, so she pressed the button and said, ‘Great.’

A moment later, the plane was hitting max velocity and lifting up off the ground with a slight bump, so she clutched the armrests and craned her head to see out of the window. He banked to the left once they were high enough, swinging back over the hangar so she could just make out Everett leaving, closing the enormous door, and jumping back in his ute.