Secrets of Silvergum

  MANDY MAGRO lives in Cairns, Far North Queensland, with her husband, Billy, and her daughter, Chloe Rose. With pristine aqua-blue coastline in one direction and sweeping rural landscapes in the other, she describes her home as heaven on earth. A passionate woman and a romantic at heart, she loves writing about soul-deep love, the Australian rural way of life and all the wonderful characters who live there.

  www.facebook.com/mandymagroauthor

  www.mandymagro.com

  Also by Mandy Magro

  Driftwood

  Country at Heart

  The Wildwood Sisters

  Bluegrass Bend

  Walking the Line

  Along Country Roads

  Moment of Truth

  A Country Mile

  Rosalee Station

  Return to Rosalee Station

  Jacaranda

  Flame Tree Hill

  Secrets of Silvergum

  Mandy Magro

  www.harlequinbooks.com.au

  For my amazing husband, Billy Anderson – you rock my world, in so many breathtaking ways! Xx

  No matter how far or fast you run, your past will always catch up to you …

  CONTENTS

  Also by Mandy Magro

  Prologue

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Epilogue

  Acknowledgements

  PROLOGUE

  With Emma Kensington cradled in his arms, Zane Wolfe stared in shock and horror at the blood pooling by his bare feet. He’d been sleeping soundly until he’d heard Emma’s screams, and now there was a dead man on the kitchen floor. He just thanked god she’d been able to defend herself – he couldn’t stand to think of anything terrible happening to her. Ever.

  He looked to where Peter and Michael were huddled, whispering between themselves. What in the hell was going on? ‘What are you two doing? We have to call the police,’ he growled, as he snatched the phone off the kitchen bench. ‘Right now!’

  ‘No, Zane, you don’t want to go and do that,’ Peter boomed, waving his hands about, trying to stop him from dialling 000.

  Incredulously, Zane shook his head. ‘Why?’ Emma was shaking like a leaf, and he pulled her in tighter, wishing he could ease her anguish.

  ‘Because, if you do …’ Peter rubbed his face, huffed, stepped over the crumpled body, and came to rest his hands on Zane’s shoulder and Emma’s back. ‘Emma might find herself on the Mafia’s hit list.’

  Zane dropped the phone as if it were fiery hot. It crashed to the floor. ‘What in the hell are you on about?’

  Emma stood back from him and lifted her cheek from his chest, her face ghostly pale. ‘I only came out to get a drink of water. I didn’t mean to hurt him, it’s just, he came for me and I reacted to save myself.’ She shuddered and her sobs rose harder.

  Michael stepped in beside her, and after flashing Zane a stern look, took his girlfriend into his arms. ‘It’ll be okay, Em, we just have to do this right or, like Dad said, you might get hurt.’ He tucked wayward strands of hair behind her ears. ‘I’d never forgive myself if something happened to you, baby.’

  Peter nodded as he heaved a sigh. ‘Yes, you were undoubtedly defending yourself, Emma, I believe you, but Mario Zaffaro isn’t going to give a shit about that. All he’ll want is revenge for whoever took his cousin’s life.’

  ‘Why the hell would the Mafia want to break into our home?’ His instincts telling him it would have something to do with Peter’s work, Zane looked down at the tattooed thug. He’d never seen a dead body before, and nausea swirled in his stomach at the gruesome sight.

  Strangely unperturbed, Peter followed his gaze. ‘I’m building a case against one of Mario’s boys at the moment, and I suppose he thought he might find something in the house to discredit me, or … maybe, god forbid, he sent this thug to threaten me, or possibly even to kill me.’ He cleared his throat and seemed to ponder this for a few moments. ‘Whatever the case, thank goodness Emma stopped him.’

  Zane found himself lost for words. Emma, too distraught to take anything more in, huddled against Michael. Zane felt a pang of jealousy that he wasn’t the one soothing her, but he swallowed it down. Now wasn’t the time for his hidden feelings to come into play. Hands laced behind his head, he paced, and finally found his voice. ‘So what do you suggest we do, Peter?’

  ‘I don’t want you and Emma to do anything. The less you know now, the better. I’ll take care of it. Okay?’

  Wide eyed, Zane turned to him. ‘How do you intend to do that?’

  ‘Like I said, the less you know, the better.’ He gestured to Emma. ‘Take her and calm her down, will you? Michael and I will clean up this mess. And then tomorrow, for the sake of Emma’s life, and ours, I want us all to get on with our routine like this never happened. You’re not to speak of it, to anyone. Ever. Do you understand?’ His face was a picture of caution.

  Zane was reluctant but because he cared more about Emma than some thug he didn’t know, he did as Peter had demanded. If only this were a nightmare they’d all wake up from tomorrow. But it was terrifyingly real, and something told him, as horrifying as it was, there was a hell of a lot more to the story.

  CHAPTER 1

  Silvergum, North Queensland

  Shattered after two weeks with virtually no sleep, Zane dared a glance in Emma’s direction and then heaved a weary sigh. Although the classic Cold Chisel tune playing from the radio was a welcome distraction, what remained silent between them was resounding off every inch of the sun-speckled windscreen. He and Emma had talked about it all until they were blue in the face, and there was nothing to be gained from going over it with her for the hundredth time. As much as they both wanted to go to the cops, risking her safety just wasn’t an option. There was no way in hell he was going to endanger her life, or Michael and Peter’s, all because of his yearning to do the right thing.

  Staring out the passenger window, he tried to pretend it had never happened, tried not to imagine the dead man, who he’d last seen slumped on the kitchen floor, now at the bottom of Campfire River, with bricks tied to his feet, or buried somewhere deep in the middle of Silvergum’s national park. Not that he knew what had transpired once he’d dragged a very distraught Emma back to his bedroom and locked the door. Nor did he know what it had to do with the Mafia, and he didn’t want to know. All that mattered was that Emma was alive, and unharmed. He wouldn’t put it past Peter to do whatever it took to cover up the evidence – the lengths his adoptive father would go to preserve his reputation as a cutthroat criminal defence lawyer were beyond Zane’s comprehension. It came with the territory of representing the bad guys, the delinquents who deserved to be locked away for life that the state felt deserved a fair trial – that’s where Peter came in to save the day. In Zane’s opinion, Peter manipulated the justice system so criminals could walk free while their victims and their families suffered. The under-the-table payoffs and the who-knew-who in the land of the Law was a goddamn joke.

  A smashing headache behind his eyes, he closed them and squeezed the bridge of his nose. No matter how hard he tried, and regardless of whether the thug was a part of a cartel that harmed and hurt for money, the dead man’s
face continued to haunt him. He just hoped that by leaving Aussie shores, he could put it all behind him. He craved a distraction from his relentless thoughts, wanting to think of anything but that shocking night. If only it were that easy.

  After an hour of driving in virtual silence, thankfully, they were almost at Cairns International Airport. Other than the odd comment here and there as they’d wound down the Kuranda Range at a snail’s pace, the evasiveness between them was killing him. But what was he meant to say to fill the agonising gaps? Don’t worry about killing a man, she’ll be right? Or, I’m sorry about making such sweet love to you when you’re already dating Michael? There was nothing he could say that would make their situation any better or less painful.

  Grabbing his wide-brimmed hat from the dash, he did his best to keep his turbulent emotions at bay. A true-blue cowboy never broke down. He’d never done it to this day, and he wasn’t about to do it now, even though he felt as if his entire world was crumbling around him. The most frustrating thing was that he was helpless to stop it. As he caught her eye, the exquisite brunette behind the wheel offered him a brusque smile before focusing again on the long line of traffic in front of them. The tremble in her soft, sweet, kissable lips was ever so slight and the quickened pulse in her chest was obvious to him only because he knew her so well. Angry for giving in to the desires he’d kept under lock and key for years, he wanted to give himself a good slap around the ears. Emma Kensington deserved so much better, better than him, better than Michael, better than this.

  Michael had wooed her from the get-go, pulled the wool over her eyes in his most charming of ways, but soon enough, he’d go and hurt her. It wasn’t in Michael’s nature to remain committed, to anyone. But try as Zane might to warn Emma of this, she refused to see it. Her dream of the whole white picket fence lifestyle, to be happily married with three kids by the time she was twenty-five, seemed to overshadow her voice of reason. It was an idea that terrified Zane, but it was the life Emma was looking for.

  Worried out of his mind and nervous as all hell about what lay in front of him with the American professional bull-riding circuit, and also the dark past that incessantly shadowed him, and Emma, his stomach twisted into an even tighter knot. He hated leaving her to deal with all this on her own, but not wanting to make a scene at the airport, he had to pull himself together. Squeezing the bridge of his nose again, he heaved another weary sigh, adjusted his sunnies and then gave a few short, sharp tugs on his seatbelt to loosen it, wishing he could unbuckle the damn thing altogether. He hated feeling confined, constricted, loathed anything to do with rules and regulations. Telling him he couldn’t do something was like waving a red cape at a charging bull.

  He was a self-confessed wild child, although his wayward acts had all been quite harmless. He’d lived seventeen long years without getting into too much trouble with the law. Having a renowned defence lawyer for an adoptive father might have had something to do with that. But this, being a witness to homicide, as accidental as it was, was immeasurably worse than the times he’d driven a car unlicensed, dashed down the main street of Silvergum butt naked for a dare, and failed to pay a couple of speeding fines. No amount of prayer would ever get them out of this mess – not that he’d ever drop to his knees to try. Even though he’d been raised by his god-fearing adoptive mother, Kay, since he was three months old, he was no longer a religious man. He had all but turned his back on the Church the day she’d died of cancer almost a year ago. What kind of god took such a kind and loving soul in such a horrendous way, especially after all the years of verbal and emotional abuse she’d endured from Peter’s acid tongue?

  Looking out the window at the rows of seemingly identical houses becoming claustrophobically closer together – a country-blooded man through and through, suburban living wasn’t for him – he tried to rid himself of his disturbing thoughts. They had kept him pacing the darkened hallway of the Kensingtons’ old workers’ cottage these past two weeks. Staying at Wattle Acres just hadn’t been an option after what had happened. Peter and Michael’s increasing animosity towards him, combined with the eeriness of the kitchen had him packing his bags and taking up Emma’s offer to stay at her family’s property, Serendipity, until he left for America. And it let him keep an eye out for her, just in case she had a mark on her back. How Peter and Michael could keep going as if nothing had happened, how they could go to sleep at night and wake refreshed and ready for the day ahead at their prestigious law firm was beyond him. He’d told them so, and they hadn’t liked it, reminding him to keep his mouth shut or Emma might end up dead. Their words were as harsh and as blunt as that.

  Branded as the black sheep of the family by many Silvergum locals, unlike Michael – who was his father’s blood and bone – Zane had proved time and time again he wasn’t Peter’s progeny. Professional bull riding was a far cry from the world of Law Peter and Michael immersed themselves in. But Zane was proud that his passion lay in something so completely different. He didn’t care that he was a disappointment to Peter; he’d never wanted to be anything like the arrogant, ruthless, selfish bastard. Growing up feeling as if he were nothing but a thorn in their sides, and even more so now Kay was gone, he was relieved to be leaving this life behind, and hopefully, for good. Apart from this captivatingly spirited woman beside him, who he’d known since kindergarten, there was no one he’d miss. Fighting to divert his thoughts from the heartache he was going to feel saying goodbye to her, he watched a flock of seagulls soar through the sky, the seemingly endless blue a sharp contrast to the darkness he was feeling deep down in his soul.

  Nearing the airport, he stole another glance at the only woman he’d ever truly made love to, not just slept with for the fun of it. The tension in her glossy lips and the whites of her knuckles as she gripped the steering wheel unnecessarily tight told him her mind was tormented by the same images and thoughts as his. While his pounding concern for her safety was almost too much to cope with, he knew for sure that she was carrying so much on her petite shoulders. He couldn’t even begin to imagine how she was feeling, knowing she’d been the cause of the intruder’s death, despite the fact she was only defending herself. Zane knew that Emma desperately wanted to go to the police, but she feared for her life if she did. It was almost too much for one person to handle, he thought, glancing at her. He ached to reach out and soothe her worries away, but that wasn’t his place. He’d tried to do just that last night, to comfort her when she’d come to him in tears, and look where that had led them … even deeper into unbearable secrecy. If only Michael was there more for her, it might never have happened.

  Slowing, Emma indicated and pulled into the drop-off zone out the front of International Departures. Without allowing himself time for any hesitation, Zane jumped out and shut the ute’s door behind him. Grabbing his suitcase from the back while avoiding slobbery licks from her Great Dane, Bo, he paused to drink Emma in one more time. He knew not to let her innocent appearance fool him – she was like him, as wild as they came.

  Resting his forearm on the open passenger window, he feigned a nonchalance he was far from feeling. ‘You sure you’re going to be okay, Em?’ Man, his heart was aching.

  Tucking wisps of wind-tousled hair from her lightly freckled cheeks, she offered a sad smile and shrugged. ‘If I say no, are you going to stay?’

  Wishing he could say yes, he found himself at a loss for words.

  ‘Thought as much.’ She blinked her dazzling, gold-speckled green eyes, wet with tears. ‘Then I suppose I’m just going to have to be, aren’t I, Casanova?’

  He flinched at hearing his nickname. ‘Yeah, I suppose. I’m so sorry, Em, about everything.’ He didn’t feel the need to elaborate.

  She laughed softly as she picked at the grease beneath her short fingernails – she’d been under the bonnet when he’d found her this morning. ‘Even though I should be, I’m not sorry about what happened last night, Zane. It felt so right, and sooo good.’ She looked at him. ‘I know you felt wh
atever it was, too. I could see it in your eyes.’

  So many emotion-fuelled words tumbled to his lips, but he fought them back. Now wasn’t the time to tell her how he really felt about her – not when he was leaving for good. Unable to hold her intense gaze any longer, for fear of jumping back into the ute and throwing his dreams away, he looked down at his boots. Drawing in a breath, he shook his head. ‘I don’t know what to say, Em, but if I don’t go now—’

  She cut him off. ‘I know, Zane, it’s okay. If I were in your shoes, after everything that’s happened, I’d be running like a bat out of hell and never looking back.’ She sighed. ‘I’m so happy for you, finally getting the break you deserve.’

  He dared a glance back at her and his heart tumbled. ‘I wish you could come with me.’

  ‘Me too … but then I’d probably cramp your style, Casanova.’ She tried to flash her knee-buckling smile, but failed, miserably.

  Once he could cop it, but not twice in a matter of minutes. ‘Please, Em, don’t call me that, not after last night …’ He shook his head, his heart feeling like a lead weight.

  She unbuckled her seatbelt and slid across the seat, her fierce gaze daring the mean-looking parking inspector heading towards them to try to tell her to move on. ‘I’m going to miss you, Zane Wolfe.’ She brushed a kiss over his lips, igniting the blazing fire in his heart all over again. ‘Take care, won’t you?’

  ‘I will, you too.’ He cleared his throat. Damn this was even harder than he’d expected.

  Ever so gently, she placed a trembling hand against his cheek. ‘Please don’t ever forget me.’

  ‘How could I ever forget you?’ Desperate to lighten the mood, he tried to laugh it off. ‘I’m not going away forever, you know. I’ll be back sometime.’

  She offered him a smile that showed how much she doubted that. She knew him all too well. ‘Remember to keep our secrets under lock and key, okay?’ She eyed him carefully.