Her Knight in the Outback Read Online Free PDF

‘Why are you out here, then?’
    â€˜I’m auditing the weather stations. I check them, report on their condition.’
    Well, that explained the hands. ‘I thought you were this free spirit on two wheels. You’re an auditor.’
    His lips tightened. ‘Something tells me that’s a step down from weatherman in your eyes.’
    She got stuck into her complimentary bread roll, buttering and biting into it. ‘How many stations are there?’
    â€˜Eight hundred and ninety-two.’
    â€˜And they send one man?’ Surely they had locals that could check to make sure possums hadn’t moved into their million-dollar infrastructure.
    â€˜I volunteered to do the whole run. Needed the break.’
    From...?
But she’d promised not to ask. They were supposed to be talking about travel highlights. ‘Where was the most remote station?’
    â€˜Giles. Seven hundred and fifty clicks west of Alice. Up in the Gibson Desert.’
    Alice Springs. Right smack bang in the middle of their massive island continent. ‘Where did you start?’
    â€˜Start and finish in Perth.’
    A day and a half straight drive from here. ‘Is Perth home?’
    â€˜Sydney.’
    She visualised the route he must have taken clockwise around the country from the west. ‘So you’re nearly done, then?’
    His laugh drew the eyes of the other diners. ‘Yeah. If two-thirds of the weather stations weren’t in the bottom third of the state.’
    â€˜Do you get to look around? Or is it all work?’
    He shrugged. ‘Some places I skip right through. Others I linger. I have some flexibility.’
    Eve knew exactly what that was like. Some towns whispered to you like a lover. Others yelled at you to go. She tended to move on quickly from those.
    â€˜Favourites so far?’
    And he was off... Talking about the places that had captivated him most. The prehistoric, ferny depths of the Claustral Canyon, cave-diving in the crystal-clear ponds on South Australia’s limestone coast, the soul-restoring solidity of Katherine Gorge in Australia’s north.
    â€˜And the run over here goes without saying.’
    â€˜The Nullabor?’ Pretty striking with its epic treeless stretches of desert but not the most memorable place she could recall.
    â€˜The Great Australian Bight,’ he clarified.
    She just blinked at him.
    â€˜You got off the highway on the way over, right? Turned for the coast?’
    â€˜My focus is town to town.’
    He practically gaped. ‘One of the most spectacular natural wonders in the world was just a half-hour drive away.’
    â€˜And half an hour back. That was an hour sooner I could have made it to the next town.’
    His brows dipped over grey eyes. ‘You’ve got to get out more.’
    â€˜I’m on the job.’
    â€˜Yeah, me, too, but you have to live as well. What about weekends?’
    The criticism rankled. ‘Not all of us are on the cushy public servant schedule. An hour—a day—could mean the difference between running across someone who knew Travis and not.’
    Or even running into Trav himself.
    â€˜What if they came through an hour after you left, and pausing to look at something pretty could have meant your paths crossed?’
    Did he think she hadn’t tortured herself with those thoughts late at night? The endless what-ifs?
    â€˜An hour afterwards and they’ll see a poster. An hour before and they’d have no idea their shift buddy is a missing person.’ At least that was what she told herself. Sternly.
    Marshall blinked at her.
    â€˜You don’t understand.’ How could he?
    â€˜Wouldn’t it be faster to just email the posters around the country? Ask the post offices to put them up for you.’
    â€˜It’s not just about the posters. It’s about talking to people. Hunting down leads. Making an impression.’
    Hoping to God the