Born of the Wind

by Margaret Pargeter

'That was making a convenience of me, remember? You were one short.'

  'Well, taking you to Bourke could hardly be called making a convenience of you,' he remarked dry.

  'Miss Easten wouldn't like it.'

  He released a cool, deep breath; Sherry felt it feathering her face. 'Leave Miss Easten to me.'

  'You're welcome!'

  He looked as though he would have liked to annihilate her on the spot, but instead he released her with a muttered expletive, turned the car and drove on.

  The next few miles were completed in grim silence. Sherry wondered if Scott was going to speak again. He was angry. He was a man who always regarded women with indulgence but some contempt. This didn't mean he didn't want them in his life—he would consider they had their uses—certainly in bed, as long as they were submissive and didn't answer back. Sherry didn't need to be told he thought her manners deplorable and that he was probably thinking of new ways of making her suffer. He might be triumphant if he knew how much she was suffering already. She believed she was falling in love with him. It was something which had taken possession of her so swiftly she had been able to do little about it. His dark image was imposing on her mind night and day, making her restless and unhappy. Whatever obstacles life put in her way, she might get over them, but she didn't think she would ever get over loving Scott Brady.

  She was startled when he asked mildly, 'Aren't you going to tell me why you're going to Bourke again, so soon? You know your brother isn't there.'

  Cautiously she decided to tell him so much. 'I'd like to buy another truck. We can't manage without one.'

  He nodded. 'I understand your problem, if not your panic. Let me loan you something, until Kim returns.'

  Sherry was surprised by his offer—and tempted, but she had to refuse. If she accepted a truck from Scott, he could accuse her of borrowing it under false pretences when he learnt Kim wasn't coming back.

  'I'd rather not,' she faltered.

  He said impatiently, 'I'm not too proud to borrow from my neighbours and I expect them to borrow from me.'

  'I'd still rather not,' she insisted, adding awkwardly, 'I appreciate your offer, but I think I'd be wiser to have something of my own.'

  They roared into Bourke with Sherry wondering hollowly if she would ever please him. After parking, Scott said curtly, 'I've some business I can attend to, now I'm here. Can you fill in an hour until I'm through, then we can visit a few garages together. You can't know much about buying trucks, so I think you'd be wise to accept my help in this instance, Sherry.'

  Unable to dispute it, she agreed. If Dan Cleary and the bank manager gave her the go-ahead, she wouldn't have unlimited funds, so she might need all the help she could get.

  That Scott would be engaged for the next hour couldn't have, suited her better. She watched him striding along the street before diving into Dan Cleary's office.

  Dan Cleary was a middle-aged man, who admired Sherry's spirit even if he couldn't applaud her intentions. 'I've been aware for some time that your brother has no aptitude for farming,' he said, 'but he might have been wiser to have sold up before he went.' Dan didn't know, or pretended he didn't, why Kim had left in such a hurry, but he did add, 'I could have got him a buyer in five minutes, if he'd waited.'

  Sherry didn't doubt it, nor did she ask names. She had a good idea!

  'I must try and carry on for at least a year,' she said.

  'If you didn't have Sam Duffy I couldn't have advised it,' he grunted.

  About the truck, he was even more discouraging. 'You're mortgaged up to the hilt and I don't think there'll be much spare cash.'

  'It must be a necessary expense, Mr Cleary.'

  He gave in with a sigh. 'Then you'd better see Nick Wallace, at the bank.'

  The bank manager did say she might have a truck, but was no more enthusiastic about her taking over Googon than Dan Cleary had been.

  'Kim hasn't exactly made a go of things, Sherry. And because your late grandfather was an old and valued client, I've gone out of my way to give him all the help I could. Do you think your grandfather would have approved of him going off and leaving Googon to a girl of your age?'

  'I'm almost twenty, Mr Wallace,' she replied tersely, getting very tired of everyone doubting her ability. 'Grandfather taught me a lot, and I have to try.'

  'I admire your spirit,' he said out aloud what Dan Cleary had merely thought, 'yes, I do.' He looked at her keenly. 'I knew your mother, you know. We grew up. together—contemporaries, you might say. She used to write to me occasionally, after she married.'

  'Mummy wrote to you?'

  'Well,' he cleared his throat slightly as Sherry's voice faltered, 'we were old friends. When your grandfather didn't reply to her letters, she came to rely on me for news of him. It had nothing to do with my position in the bank, of course. She was only interested in his health, and how he was getting on.'

  'You—you met my father?'

  'Not here. I did on a trip to England. You and your brother were away at school and I stayed with your parents for a few days.'

  Sherry felt stunned. All this and she had never known! 'I wish you'd told me before now,' she whispered. 'I realised Mummy must have had friends, but I never seemed to meet them.'

  'Most of them are living elsewhere,' he said ruefully. 'And in time people forget.'

  Sherry suspected he hadn't and smiled at him gratefully. 'Thank you for telling me anyway.'

  She did get permission to buy a truck, but with a limit set to what she could spend. When she met Scott and she told him how much, he frowned but didn't comment. She had to admit, afterwards, that she might have fared badly if he hadn't been with her as she'd no idea what a good second-hand truck could cost. It could only have been with his help that she managed to get something roadworthy at a reasonable price.

  He asked her to have lunch with him while the garage checked it out, and, after the time he had spent, Sherry felt she couldn't very well refuse. He took her to a pleasant hotel, but she didn't feel hungry and merely pushed the food round on her plate. Not being able to tell him about Kim was weighing on her mind, but she felt, at the moment, she couldn't bear a further volley of Scott's disparaging remarks which would surely follow such a confession.

  If he noticed her lack of appetite he didn't say anything, and as soon as they finished coffee he took her back to the garage and waited while she collected the truck.

  'I'll follow you home,' he said.

  'There's no need,' she protested.

  'Don't argue!' he returned tightly.

  As she met his cooling grey eyes and recognised his usual disapproval of opposition, Sherry gave in helplessly. 'Just as you like,' she agreed, trying not to sound defeated but failing miserably.

  She was conscious of him behind her all the way to Googon, and although it should have made her feel better that he was eating her dust, she felt no particular triumph. She wished he would go back to Coomarlee and leave her alone. There was so much to do and she couldn't see herself getting through the half of it if Scott was continually distracting her. On the face of it he was being helpful, but she was suspicious of his kindness. He had made so many threats over the past weeks, she couldn't believe he hadn't meant them. There were different forms of revenge, or different ways of extracting it. If she had been a man, Scott could have knocked her down, but because she was a girl he mightn't find it so simple. Perhaps he was considering attacking her through her emotions, extending his friendship and assistance until she came to rely on him, then withdrawing aloofly, leaving her devastated.

  On reaching the homestead, she felt a sense of frustration when he nodded when she offered him a drink. She had thought she had made it plain that she appreciated his help but not his company, and he wasn't a man normally slow on the uptake.

  'I'd rather have tea,' he said, when she had hoped he would settle for something quicker, like whisky or beer.

  'Very well,' she said stiffly. 'If you go into the lounge I'll not be long.'

>   He followed her to the kitchen and judging from the determined expression on his face, Sherry guessed she'd be wasting her breath if she repeated her request that he went elsewhere.

  Silently she cursed. The stove was out- and it would take time to light, and she didn't relish doing it with Scott standing over her, watching every movement. She found an armful of logs and threw them on. The fire roared and within minutes the kitchen was like a furnace. Scott leant against the table, powerful arms folded, grimly eyeing the stove. Sherry tried to stay calm as his cold glance occasionally encompassed her. She fretted as the kettle took ages in boiling.

  He startled her by asking curtly, 'Have you found anyone to stay with you at night, until Kim returns?'

  Again she missed a chance of telling him the truth. She excused herself this time by telling herself she must speak to Sam first. 'I'll ask one of the Aborigine girls to stay,' she replied briefly.

  'I'll have a word with Sam before I go, to make sure you do,' he said coolly.

  This rankled. 'I'd rather you didn't. You aren't responsible for what happens here, and after all your talk of revenge, wouldn't it suit you very well if someone murdered me in my bed? Then,' she added for good measure, 'you might have no trouble getting your hands on Googon!'

  Grey eyes glittering, Scott rasped, 'So that's what you think?'

  Sherry stared back at him doubtfully. 'Are you denying you would like to?'

  Irritably he replied. 'I don't deny I would try and buy Googon, if it ever came on the market, but I certainly wouldn't be party to anything underhand, as you appear to be suggesting.'

  Sherry frowned. 'I thought perhaps that was why you were helping me, after being so—so unfriendly.'

  His mouth twisted ironically. 'I see.' Frowning for a moment, he said, 'After I left you this morning, I did some thinking. Knowing Ellen, I have to admit she might be as much at fault as Kim. I still believe your brother acted deplorably, Sherry, but my sister must be partly responsible for Kim being away. So perhaps that's why I feel morally obliged to do what I can for you until he gets back. It's probably too late to talk of reprisals anyway.'

  Sherry lowered her eyes to hide the dawning dismay in them. What would Scott say if she confessed that Kim might not have been away if he hadn't had the chance of a new start in England? Ellen was certainly guilty of deceiving her brother, but she wasn't really responsible for Kim leaving Googon. However, if Scott knew that, he might wash his hands of Sherry Grant altogether. It was tempting not to tell him, to go on allowing him to feel she had been wronged by his family, so that she might bask in his protective care for at least a little longer. Sam wouldn't betray her, and though Dan Cleary and Nick Wallace both knew the truth about Kim, they were unlikely to say anything.

  Deciding impulsively not to enlighten Scott for a few more days bothered Sherry's conscience, but she tried to soothe it by reminding herself that he owed her something for treating her so roughly. As long as she didn't take his offers of help too seriously. She might have fallen in love with him, but she must remember it was Dulcie Easten whom he was going to marry. Or if it wasn't Dulcie, it would be another girl like her, with an impeccable background.

  She felt Scott raising her chin with a thoughtful finger. 'Are you very worried about your brother?' he asked grimly. 'Shall I make some enquiries? I don't suppose he's gone far.'

  'No!' Sherry refused quickly, her cheeks flushed, 'I expect he—he knows what he's doing.'

  Scott looked as if he was going to say more then changed his mind. 'I'm sure he'll be back before anyone notices.'

  Sherry sighed, her duplicity weighing heavier than she had thought it would. 'No one seemed aware of anything amiss last night. I scarcely heard Ellen's name mentioned.'

  Scott's mouth tightened. 'It was assumed she was away, but there'll be an announcement in the newspapers tomorrow.'

  'So you aren't going to just ignore her marriage?' Sherry's blue eyes brightened.

  'No, but I don't want to discuss it,' he replied repressively.

  Sherry realised this. The attempts she had made the other morning had met with grim silence. She liked Ellen, she wasn't snobbish, the way Dulcie Easten was. Scott was sure his sister would never make a poor man's wife, but he might be proved wrong.

  'Ellen's marriage—' she began, forgetting Scott's warning.

  'Enough!' he snapped, once again dictatorial.

  Unhappily resentful at being spoken to so abruptly, Sherry grasped the hot kettle handle and let go of it with a gasp of pain.

  'My God!' Scott swooped as the kettle clattered on the stove and she jumped back in fright. 'What have you done now? You aren't capable of running a kitchen, let alone a station!'

  'I'm all right!' she grasped her scorched hand, glaring at him as he grabbed it forcefully, 'I wasn't thinking what I was doing!'

  'You should have been,' he said harshly. 'You get on a lot better if you concentrate on your own problems and not on those that belong to people who don't consider yours!'

  'Oh, you aren't human!' she cried as he wrenched her small, clenched hand open to expose the seared skin. Her hand felt numb. There was more feeling shooting up her arm from the clasp of Scott's fingers than from the burn.

  'Under the tap with you,' he ordered grimly, turning the kitchen one full on. The water trickled, then splashed, almost drowning them. 'Talk about inadequate plumbing!' he said savagely. 'Your whole kitchen needs refitting. It's a pity neither your grandfather or brother ever heard of modernisation!'

  The cold water and his clipped tones were certainly easing the discomfort of her palm if not her mind. And Scott's administrations were amazingly gentle, once she stopped struggling.

  'I—I like the kitchen as it is,' she muttered, trying not to be conscious of his hard chest pressed against her back as, with his arms round her, he held her still. 'Modern kitchens are soulless.'

  'But less dangerous.' His breath was on her cheek as he bent to inspect her hand more closely, and she began to tremble.

  He frowned, feeling the tension in her slight body tight against him. 'Is it hurting badly?'

  'No,' she confessed, 'not now. I think I got a fright more than anything else.'

  Scott nodded. 'There's quite a bit of redness, all the same. Where do you keep your medicine chest?'

  She told him, at the back of the house, and when he returned with it she stared at the top of his dark head as he dressed her hand. Her heart was beating restlessly and she felt suddenly frightened of her own reactions. Such an intensity of feeling was whirling through her that she hoped feverishly Scott would never kiss her again for she feared, if he did, she might respond so violently she might betray how much she loved him and be ashamed of herself for ever.

  Scott glanced up, frowning. 'I've seen worse. A bandage should keep it comfortable and prevent more damage, but it should be all right by tomorrow.'

  Sherry wasn't even listening. She was gazing at him, her eyes again trapped by something in his she found impossible to escape. Her colour drained as she realised his hold over her and when a log fell from the stove, breaking the trance she was in, she almost cried with relief.

  'Thank you,' she said huskily, her eyes now on her bandaged hand. 'I'll make your tea.'

  'Never mind that,' a muscle twitched in his cheek, 'I'll make it. You sit down.'

  She groped towards a kitchen chair, but he turned her in the direction of the veranda. 'Out there,' he said curtly. 'It's too hot in here. I'll be with you in a minute.'

  Sherry saw Sam after dinner. She knew, in all fairness, she had to talk to him. She felt freer, since having been to Bourke, to tell him that Ellen Brady had married Barry White's overseer and that Kim had left Australia and returned to England. She didn't say he wasn't coming back, because she couldn't be sure of that.

  Sam didn't appear surprised by what she told him, making Sherry wonder wryly if he might have known more all along than he had ever let on? He assured her again that she could rely on him and she wasn't to worry. H
e and the men would see her through.

  Scott hadn't stayed long after drinking his tea. He had left abruptly after advising her to take care of her hand and to think about some alterations in the kitchen.

  'I have some meetings in Melbourne I have to go to,' he told her, 'and I want to see Barry White. I'll be gone several days, perhaps a week, but I'll give you a ring when I return.'

  He hadn't given her time to say it wasn't necessary, having taken himself off with a casual word of farewell. He left her staring after him, engulfed by a peculiar sense of loss, which she would rather not have felt.

  By the time the shearers arrived, Sherry had made arrangements with Sam which she thought would suit them both. Because she felt she must be straight with him, she had confessed that she had no idea what Kim's plans might be at the end of a year. She knew that this would depend on his success with Harold Gibson. She couldn't even promise, despite what Kim had said in his letter, that he wouldn't sell before the year was out, but Sam had been more than willing to take things a day at a time. Suspecting that he was hoping that if Googon was sold the new owner might keep him on, Sherry resolved, if this ever happened, she would do her utmost to ensure that Sam's job was safe.

  The more Sherry thought about it, the higher were her hopes that Kim wouldn't sell Googon. If she could run it and make a profit from it, it might suit him better to have something in the background, if all else failed. In this frame of mind, she was determined to make a success of things and made sure everything was ready for the shearers when they arrived. Her hand, as Scott had predicted, was none the worse, apart from a little tenderness, next morning, and she rode out with the men to help with the last of the mustering. They had enough horses, but she envied Jamie and some of the others their trail bikes, that could move the stock far quicker than she and Sam could. Even more, she envied Scott his helicopters which could coax even the most wily sheep from the low scrub. He used them chiefly, she knew, on cattle on a property he had over the border, in Queensland. Sam called the men who flew them airborne cowboys, but she guessed he sometimes wished they had something of the kind here. It wasn't much fun herding mobs of stubborn sheep in searing heat especially when—it seemed clear to Sherry—they would rather stay where they were.