Matilda's Last Waltz by Tamara McKinley Page B

distant glimmer that was her refuge. She had to make it. Her life depended on it.
    The thundering hooves slowed to a steady walk.
    She dared not look round, but guessed he was a couple of hundred yards away, playing with her as a cat toyed with a mouse, teasing, provoking, but all the while menacing. A sob of desperation mingled with the gasp as she stumbled again. He was waiting for her to fall. Waiting his moment. They both knew she couldn’t outrun him.
    The pastures stretched endlessly before her, the long grass hampering her escape, the earth seemingly set on making her stumble. Yet she found the strength to stay on her feet and keep going. The alternative was too awful to contemplate.
    The steady plod of hooves followed her – never gaining but always there. She heard the soft, malicious chuckle and the jingle of harness. It spurred her on.
    The homestead was nearer now, she could even catch a shimmer of light in one of the windows, and Mervyn wouldn’t dare hurt her once she reached the fire-break that surrounded the property.
    As her feet pounded over the earth, she searched desperately for a sign of life – of confirmation that someone was out there and would see her. Where was Tom? Why had no one come to help?
    The pursuing drumbeat gathered pace. Nearer and nearer, its approach filled the world with its sound until there was nothing else.
    Her breath was ragged. Her heartbeat a hammer against her ribs as the chestnut gelding came up beside her. Sweat foamed its flanks, the great bellows of its lungs rasped as it came to a skittering halt in front of her.
    Matilda twisted away.
    The horse followed.
    She ducked away from the trampling, stamping legs and weaved through the grass.
    The horse closed in, the booted foot left the stirrup and kicked up.
    The blow to the side of her head sent her stumbling, arms flailing, trying to catch hold of the harness to keep her balance. Then she was falling. Down, down, down she went – the earth rushing to meet her, embracing her in a cloud of dust and cruel stones, punching air from her lungs.
    Mervyn’s bulk blotted out the remains of the sun as he loomed over her. ‘Just how far did you think you were gonna get?’
    Matilda glanced through the grass at the silent, deserted homestead. If she hadn’t taken time to rest she’d have made it.
    His grasp on her arm was brutal as he yanked her to her feet. A gleam of sadistic relish was in his eyes as he tugged her hair and forced her to look up at him. Matilda knew he wanted her to cry out, to plead with him not to hurt her, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction – no matter how much he was hurting her.
    His breath was foul, his mouth inches from her face. His voice a low, menacing rasp. ‘What happens on Churinga’s no one else’s business. Understood? You shoot through again, and I’ll kill you.’
    Matilda knew this was no idle threat. She lowered her gaze and tried not to flinch as his fingers increased their hold in her hair.
    â€˜Look at me,’ he growled.
    She dredged the last of her courage and stared back at him.
    â€˜There ain’t no one going to believe you. I’m a hero, see, and I’ve got a medal to prove it.’
    Matilda looked into his eyes and thought she saw something else behind the threat – could it be fear? Impossible. For his words held the ring of truth and in those few seconds she knew she was truly alone.

Chapter One
    Sydney sweltered, and the graceful white sails of the new Opera House gleamed against the dark iron struts of the harbour bridge. Circular Quay was a kaleidoscope of colour with its crush of people, and the water busy with craft of every size and shape. Australia was celebrating as only she knew how, the narrow streets of the burgeoning capital full of noise and bustle. Jenny had gone to see the Queen open the Opera House out of curiosity, and to help fill the hours of another long day. Yet the great