by Margaret Way
“Thank you,” Sandra said. “I’ll look around before I decide.” Her family had kept her waiting. Now they could wait for her. “You can bring up my luggage now, Daniel.” She gave the order, mock lady of the manor.
“Yes, ma’am.” There was an answering wicked light in Daniel’s eyes but Elsa, still fixating on the tiles, didn’t notice.
“So what have you in mind?” Daniel asked, after they had negotiated the divided staircase and were several feet along the east wing.
“Not the master suite that’s for sure,” Sandra said. “I bet Uncle Lloyd has moved in there already.” “I wouldn’t know.”
“Let’s check it out!” Sandra rushed ahead. The hallway was still carpeted with the same valuable Persian runner. She threw open her late grandfather’s bedroom door, gasping a little to see it was indeed occupied by her uncle. Books spilled everywhere. A pair of glossy riding boots stood near the massive bed and a magnificent silk dressing gown was thrown carelessly over a deep leather armchair. “Right! Uncle Lloyd in residence. I doubt very much if it’s Bernie. I don’t want it anyway. I’ll have my parents’ suite. You can have my old room, Daniel. That way you’ll be near me.”
“Does it have a dear little bed?” Daniel asked sarcastically, wondering how he could be remotely comfortable living up at the house let alone in what had been a small girl’s bedroom.
She turned her head over her shoulder. “I trust you. You trust me. You can have any furniture you want, Daniel. Just don’t interfere with my plans.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“We’re alone, aren’t we?”
“Your ancestors are on the wall.” He cast a glance at them.
“Arrogant looking bunch aren’t they?”
“Don’t mistake arrogance for iron determination,” he said. “The Kingstons and others like them pioneered an industry. They pioneered what is still in many ways wild frontier country.”
“I stand corrected, Daniel,” she said, mock repentant. “Are you sure your dad wasn’t a cattleman?”
His gaze had the cool intensity of a big cat’s. “Ms Kingston, I’m not sure who my dad was,” he said bluntly.
The colour in her cheeks went from soft pink to crimson. She put out a tentative hand. “Daniel, I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
“You haven’t,” he assured her crisply. “Let’s get you settled.”
“Right.” She surged forward. “It’s along here.” She pointed and Daniel followed with her case. “You’re over there.” “God, Sandra. It’s opposite yours.”
She raised haughty brows. “So what’s so disturbing about that? It’s not as though we intend playing little seduction games.”
“Indeed no!” he said sternly.
“Oh come off it, Daniel. I couldn’t care less where you sleep as long as it’s close by. You can get someone to help bring up your things.”
“I’m not happy about this,” Daniel said, shaking his head.
“And I understand. But, Daniel, I need you. I’m not asking you to move in with me so quit pulling those anxious faces. I’m like a soldier who needs backup in a combat zone. Think of it like that.”
They found Lloyd Kingston and his son Bernard, sitting in splendour in the library—an enormous room—which housed thousands of books and maps which no one to Sandra’s knowledge had ever read, or even attempted to read outside herself. As a child she had loved climbing up and down the moveable ladder, pulling out books on the adventures of the early explorers, crying over their deaths in the desert. Uncle Lloyd had always kept his huge collection of botanical books quite separate from the library. For one thing her grandfather, if he hadn’t exactly ridiculed his son’s consuming interest in plants, was extremely irritated and disappointed by Uncle Lloyd’s lack of interest in the cattle business, or indeed business in general. Bernie too barely tolerated his father’s passion for wildflowers, herbs, native plants and the like but he, no more than his father, had enjoyed station life. What they both enjoyed was reaping the benefit of Rigby Kingston’s success. Finding “enlightenment” her grandfather had called it when her uncle Lloyd took off on his field trips.
So far it didn’t look like he had found it. Though Rigby Kingston’s will had left them both rich, neither Lloyd nor Bernie had made the slightest attempt to vacate the family home. Likewise Elsa who was still nipping at Sandra’s heels wearing the long-suffering expression of an early Christian martyr.
“Sandra, my dear.” Lloyd Kingston rose to his impressive feet, with quite an air of bonhomie. He came towards his niece as though he too, like Elsa, meant to catch her into a bear hug.
“Uncle Lloyd! You haven’t changed a bit.” Sandra suffered the hug which was mercifully brief. “You’re as handsome as ever.” As indeed he was. Tall, dark haired, eyes so dark they were almost black. He hadn’t gained weight in midlife though his upper torso had thickened somewhat lending him more substance. Lloyd turned his head. “Berne, come greet your cousin.” Narrowed eyes swept over the silent Daniel. “You may go now, Daniel.” The politeness of the tone didn’t conceal the order. “That was a terrible business with the helicopter. And so awful for Sandra! What exactly happened again? You did tell me when you called.”
Daniel gave him a direct look. “It’s being thoroughly checked over, Mr. Kingston. I prefer we wait on the full report. It might take time.”
“You’re the only guy I know who could have landed it.” Berne Kingston moved to join the group, giving off an aura of aggression plain for all to see.
“Maybe someone wasn’t counting on it,” Sandra said. “How are you, Bernie?”
His mouth twisted but he made no attempt to touch her nor she him. “Long time no see.” He examined Sandra carefully from head to head. “You’re so like Aunty Pam it hurts,” he said finally. “Except Pam would have made two of you. You’ve scarcely grown. And what’s with the hair?”
“Nothing terminal,” she answered, “so don’t get your hopes up. I didn’t expect to see you here, Bernie. Were you waiting around especially to welcome me home?”
“You can’t honestly believe that?” he asked flatly.
“I don’t.”
“You’ve one hell of a nerve. I’ll say that for you.” He gave a brief laugh. “Always did even as a kid. I don’t know what Grandad was thinking of—he always was devious, but Moondai should have gone to Dad, not you, and me, before you. You were last in line.”
“The last shall be first.”
“Oh, funny!” Berne sneered.
“Bernard, do you think you could stop,” Lloyd Kingston appealed to his son, before directing a sharp glance at Daniel. “Daniel, I said you could go.”
Daniel didn’t move, but there was a coolness in his eyes. “No offence, Mr. Kingston, but I work for Ms Kingston.”
“I prefer Daniel to stay for the moment, Uncle Lloyd,” Sandra broke in. “I mightn’t have been here today only for him.”
“Quite so, quite so.” Lloyd Kingston gained control of himself quickly. “But this is family business, after all. Please, come and sit down. Elsa, you’ll join us?”
“Thank you,” Elsa said in a stilted voice.
Berne followed suit. “So what are your plans?” he fired off at Sandra. “You’re going to sell the place?”
“What does it matter to you, Bernie?” Sandra asked, sinking into a deep leather armchair.
“It matters a lot. You seem to have forgotten Grandad gave Dad and me the right to remain here for as long as we want.”
“Elsa, too,” Sandra reminded him, turning her head to smile at the other woman. “I didn’t think you’d want to stay, Bernie. Unless you’ve changed a good deal you hate station life?”
Berne’s face so much like his father’s darkened. “Don’t tell us you intend to keep the place going? As if you could!” he added scornfully.
“Maybe I couldn’t on my own, but Daniel can until such time I put a professional manager in place. That’s if Daniel doesn’t want to stay.”
; Berne gazed from one to the other. “You’re pretty cosy aren’t you? Daniel this, Daniel that.”
“Oh, do get a grip on yourself, Bernard,” his father implored. “You can’t waste your life like I have. Sandra is right. You’re no more suited to station work than I am. Dad knew that.”
“That is no reason why he should have left Moondai to Sandra,” Berne responded hotly, his thin cheeks flushed. “What the hell does she know? Less than either of us. It’s all so unfair. We can’t even contest it. Dad’s lawyer told us it’d be a waste of time.”
“Have you ever known your grandfather to get legal matters wrong?” Lloyd asked very dryly. It appeared, unlike his son, he was in a conciliatory mood. “Dad spent a lot of time in Brisbane in the months before he died. He meant then to cut us out. Trevor’s daughter was to get Moondai. Trevor, after all, was his favourite son. I never did measure up.”
“I didn’t think I did, either,” Sandra said. “Grandad’s will was as big a shock to me as it was to you.”
“I bet it wasn’t a shock to Daniel here,” Berne’s handsome face was twitching with pent-up anger.
“Meaning?” Daniel’s powerful, lean body stirred restlessly.
“You know exactly what I mean,” Berne exploded. “You, after all, were in my grandfather’s confidence. He had such faith in you. You were damn near the grandson he never had. Was he hatching some plan, do you suppose? The cogs and wheels never stopped turning. Sandra was his heiress. You were the sort of guy who could take over the reins. You’ve proved to be very successful running Moondai and while you were at it, running rings around me, deliberately showing me up. Dad’s an old dinosaur. All he wants to do is study his stupid plants.”
“So what are you saying, Berne?” Lloyd Kingston broke in testily.
“I’m not a fool, Dad,” he exploded, showing no respect for his father at all. “I’ve gone over and over this. Either Grandad expected that without him the whole place would go to wrack and ruin or he could fit Sandra up with a suitable husband. A lot of people in the know seem to think Daniel here is outstanding. He’s a real go-getter. He never stops working to impress. Yet he’s a nothing and a no-one. Dirt poor until Grandad gave him a leg up. For all we know, Grandad could have extracted a promise from Dan to look out for Sandra. Marry her. Take on the Kingston name. It’s been done before today. He certainly felt no woman could run Moondai. Sandra’s not even a woman. Just look at her! She’s hardly grown since she was ten.”
“I have, Bernie,” Sandra assured him. “I don’t apologise for being petite. You know what they say. Good things come in small packages. I’m all grown-up, unlike you. Just so you know I graduated with honours from university with a B.A. majoring in psychology among other things. Consequently I find this theory of yours of considerable interest. Daniel is signed up to be my hero. Is that it?”
“Doesn’t look like you’re too uncomfortable with it,” Berne snorted.
“Well I am,” Daniel said, his eyes luminous with anger. “You’re talking drivel, Berne, but then you seldom talk anything else. I fully expected Mr. Kingston to leave Moondai to your father who could have hired top management to run the station had he wanted. My windfall turned out to be at least as big a surprise. Mr. Kingston never once mentioned his granddaughter to me.”
“You expect us to believe that?” Berne was the picture of outraged disbelief. “You always had your heads together. Every time I saw you, you were going into a huddle.”
“You don’t run a station this size sitting on your backside, Berne.” Daniel didn’t bother to hide his disgust. “Your grandfather always had areas of concern for me to address. They were all about station management and business. Which reminds me instead of standing here listening to wild scenarios I should see what’s been happening in my absence. The men like to have their duties for the day laid out.”
Sandra tried for eye-to-eye contact, failed. “But you haven’t had anything to eat, Daniel,” she reminded him, loath to see him go.
“Don’t worry about me.” He gave her a brief salute and turned on his heel.
Sandra made no apologies to the others. She went after him, catching him in the hallway. “I’m sorry about all that, Daniel,” she panted. “Bernie has always been a jealous, resentful creature.”
“And he talks a lot of drivel. I’d advise you not to listen.”
“You’re angry?” Carefully she approached him, touching his arm. It was rigid with tension.
“You bet I am!” He stared down into her face. “This isn’t going to work, Sandra. I want to help you out, but I’m not going to cop the likes of Berne. Your uncle’s arrogance only adds fuel to the flames.”
“Why put them before me?” she retorted. “I need help, Daniel. I need it from you. Please tell me I have it?”
“Hell!” Daniel was grappling with her potent effect on him. All this woman magic shouldn’t be allowed.
“You’re more than a match for both of them put together,” she cajoled him, giving him a soulful look.
“No need to pour it on.” He stared back challengingly into those blue, blue, eyes, his own expression somewhat grim. “The real question is, Ms Kingston. Am I a match for you!”
CHAPTER FIVE
IT WAS a dismal lunch though the food was good. Meg, looking almost exactly the same, but a little plumper, had come to the library door all smiles. Sandra had no hesitation going into her arms.
“Sandy!” Tears brimmed in the housekeepera’s eyes. “It’s wonderful to have you back.”
It wasn’t possible to say, “Wonderful to be back,” instead Sandra settled for, “It’s wonderful to see you, Meg. I’ve never forgotten you or your kindnesses to me and my mother.”
“I wrote to you, dear.”
Sandra shook her head, frowning slightly. “I didn’t get any letters.”
“I didn’t think you did.” Meg sounded unsurprised. “Anyway, you’re back and I’m thrilled.”
“Do we have to listen to any more gushing?” Berne burst out. “I’m hungry.”
“You must try to do something about yourself, Bernard,” his father said, regarding his son with disappointed eyes.
“You’ll never get what you want out of life if you continue to be so belligerent.”
“And you have, Dad, I suppose?” Berne scowled.
Sandra waited for another reprimand, but none came.
Meg had set up lunch in the breakfast room which had a high beamed ceiling and a lovely view of the rear garden with its stands of lemon scented gums. Roast chicken was on the menu, cold cuts, potato salad and a green salad enlivened by a Thai chilli dressing. Sandra had deliberately not chosen the carver at the head of the mahogany table which could seat ten. She guessed correctly her uncle had laid claim to that. She sat to his right with Berne opposite her and Elsa way off at the other end of the table though Sandra had tried to coax her to sit closer. It was clear Elsa had made an art form out of staying near invisible when she could easily have kicked over the traces and spent the rest of her time travelling the world, first class.
It soon transpired Uncle Lloyd was set on his course of reconciliation—or the appearances thereof—but after a limited amount of time spent on pleasantries—including kind enquiries about Pamela, once so dreadfully maligned—Berne began to worry away at Sandra’s inheritance and her future plans like a dog with a bone.
“Obviously you’ve got some idea what you intend to do with Moondai?” Fiercely he stabbed at a small chunk of new potato.
“Give me a break, Bernie,” Sandra said. “I’ve only just arrived.”
“Wonder of wonders!” He rolled his eyes.
“You can say that again! Only Daniel’s such a good pilot or I could be dead or in hospital in a coma. As I’ve already said, I had no idea Grandad would make me the major beneficiary in his will. After all, he sent Mum and me packing, remember?”
“He should never have done that.” Elsa startled them by offering the stern comment.
“N
o, he shouldn’t!” Sandra showed her own deeply entrenched resentments.
“Come off it, Sandra.” Berne’s smile was acid. “Your mother was a real tart! No offence.”
His father broke in. “This has gone far enough, Bernard. I insist you keep a civil tongue in your head. Apologise to Sandra right now.”
“Dad, you must be joking!” Berne sat back astounded. “Aren’t you the one who called Aunty Pam every dirty name you could think of? So now you’re going to make nice?”
Colour stained Lloyd Kingston’s strongly defined cheekbones. “That was in the past, Bernard. I was only teasing anyway.”
“Teasing?” Berne shouted with laughter that held no trace of humour.
Sandra for her part felt a swift surge of anger. “My mother suffered from your taunts, Uncle Lloyd. So did I. Now, if I am willing to let bygones be bygones I hope you’ll do the same. I didn’t make myself Grandad’s heiress. Grandad did. I have no idea what was going through his mind—”
“Boy, that’s rich!” Berne lounged back. “I gave you a reason. Every time I came on Grandad and Daniel they were locked into deep conversation. He’d turned his back on Dad and me. We didn’t measure up. He knew Dad would sell Moondai like a shot if he got his hands on it. I would, too.”
“What about Elsa?” Sandra asked, looking in Elsa’s direction. “Elsa is Grandad’s widow.”
Berne looked stunned. “Elsa could never take over. She can’t even handle the dinner menu as I’m sure she’ll agree. Meg runs the house.”
“Why are you speaking like this, Bernie?” Sandra asked. It was so unkind and disrespectful.
“It doesn’t matter, Alexandra!” Elsa said, waving a thin hand.
“But Elsa it does matter,” Sandra said. “Anyway Meg is the housekeeper. Before you married my grandfather you were a successful businesswoman. Didn’t you miss it?”
Elsa seemed to shrink in her carver chair. “That was a lifetime ago, Alexandra.”
“Does one truly lose one’s skills or the need to use them?”