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‘Even in London?’

She saw the way his eyes shifted, and she knew what that would mean for him. Would he threaten her again? ‘Whatever it takes to keep you and our baby safe, Sarah. Wherever that is. I shouldn’t have tried to force you into this marriage; it will only work if you choose to live with me. This is up to you.’

She couldn’t ignore the way her heart rejoiced at that statement. Not only that he hadn’t told her she couldn’t go home, but also that he’d included her in his list of people he needed to protect. Of course, that was all bound in duty, in a desire to prove that he wasn’t like his father when it came to women, but it didn’t matter. Sarah’s heart was still exploding with fullness, and, slowly, she was starting to understand why. It was only the hint of an idea, at first, so infinitesimal that she was still able to dismiss it as nothing.

His answers were the last remaining pieces of the puzzle. The only things he could have said or done to make her know she was making the right decision in marrying him. Because it proved that he accepted her decisions, that he was respecting her choice. It was the only way she could co-parent with someone: to know she still had her autonomy, that she was in charge.

Even when, in the depths of her mind, she knew the whole situation was a little out of control, at least for Sarah. She was aboard a juggernaut, and she couldn’t get off. She didn’t even know if she minded.

‘Okay,’ she said with a gentle nod, her lips tingling as a smile flickered over them.

‘Okay?’

‘Yes,’ she said, more emphatically. ‘I’ll marry you. Let’s do this.’

* * *

Sarah’s agreement meant so much more to him than he’d thought it would. Hearing those words from her lips had been like the bursting open of a star, right inside his brain. All of the problems he’d been navigating all week, the eventualities he’d been forecasting and preemptively managing, were no longer an issue.

This was the most straightforward, and the best, solution.

But from the moment she agreed, he just wanted to make it happen. He would have married her then and there, in the kitchen, if he could have, but there were still logistics to manage. As soon as he was alone, he texted his brother and sister to let them know, then emailed his assistant to set the wheels in motion for their small, private ceremony. It was just about the baby, he told himself, even when in his mind all he could see was Sarah, and the way she’d smiled at him when she’d agreed.

The impending muster meant the wedding would need to take place on the property. Though, truth be told, there was nowhere Tate could imagine getting married other than here. When he’d suggested a sunset wedding at the line of ironbark trees, on the station’s ridge, Sarah had wholeheartedly and immediately agreed. He’d asked if there was anyone she wanted flown out from England, but she’d demurred. Which had made him feel so much. Vulnerable for her, at being so alone. And a solidarity because, in truth, that was his life, too. And finally, relief, because he could give her something more—this child, him. They would be a family, even when this had been unplanned. It was something they possibly both yearned for, in a way.

And better than an ordinary family, with all of the weakness and risk that came from ‘love’, this was a family born out of a sensible desire to do what was right for their baby. There was no likelihood of a dramatic break-up, or huge arguments. In every way, what he gave his child would be so much better than anything he’d ever known.

It made it so easy to accept the necessity of this marriage—because it just felt completely and utterly right.

* * *

The date for the first reconnaissance flight of the muster had been chosen months ago, before he’d even heard the name Sarah Anderson. Tate always took the chopper out on day one. Partly for the reasons he’d told Sarah—he didn’t want anyone to think he was loafing about at the house rather than getting his hands dirty. But mainly, it was because he was a control freak, and he liked knowing he’d scoured the fields, run the logistics himself.

Afterwards, he and Everett would go over the footage, making a plan for the best way to round the cattle up, who to use where. But this, today, was business.

And yet, on the morning of the muster, when his alarm went off before dawn, for the first time in his adult life Tate wanted to ignore it. With Sarah asleep in the crook of his arm, breathing so softly, he was tempted to stay right where he was, for a little while longer, anyway.

Which was exactly why he shifted as soon as he realised how tempted he was to stay.

Marriage was one thing, but the best way to ensure that marriage remained a happy and safe space for both of them was to keep some separation. Enjoying being around her was fine, so long as it didn’t morph into something else. Something like dependence.

Something with the potential to become toxic, like his father’s first marriage. Rex’s mother should have left Hunt, but she hadn’t. She’d stayed, because she had been in love, and all of their lives had been ruined by that ‘love’, and how miserable it had made her.

That wouldn’t be them, though. He’d make sure of it. This whole marriage depended on holding the line, not letting anything fanciful or false intrude. He was determined to succeed—for both of them.

And so he moved quietly out of bed, and then from the room, ensuring he didn’t succumb to weakness and take one last glance over his shoulder at Sarah’s sleeping form. It didn’t matter, though. She was in his mind, all day, never mind that he hadn’t looked.

* * *

Sarah was as sceptical as the next person about psychic premonitions and sixth senses. But how else could she explain the shiver that ran down her spine that afternoon, for absolutely no reason? Or, an hour later, the way she’d felt compelled to walk towards the pool, for no particular reason, and then glance up at the sky. At first, the sight of his helicopter had made her smile. Even in the distance, she could see the jet-black body of it, and she stood there, admiring for a moment the way it seemed almost to float in the air.

She knew from Tate’s descriptions that his muster work started with this—a long day of flying over the fields to do a sort of stocktake of the cattle. He would have come down a few times by now, to refuel, probably to have lunch with the team on the ground, then headed back up again. She stood there a moment, just watching, her heart pounding with a strange sort of recognition, given he was so high up and she couldn’t even see his face.

It didn’t matter.

Just knowing he was there jolted something inside her. Something that had nothing to do with their baby and everything to do with Tate alone. Her lips split into a smile, and she was still smiling when the rotors slowed right down, and a cloud of smoke showed from the back of the helicopter.

At first, it took her brain a second to burst into action. What she was seeing didn’t make sense. Tate was in that helicopter, and helicopter blades always spun. Didn’t they?