by Corrie, Jane
On one occasion she had gone out to the vegetable garden at the back of the homestead,
just to get a breath of fresh air, for it was a lovely night with a full moon, and the stars just as large as she had seen on the drive to the homestead. She had not known how long she had stood there, drinking in the wonders of the night, with the lowing of the cattle in the distant pastures adding to the pastoral symphony, but then a harsh voice had broken into her reverie. 'Wear a cardigan next time. You're not in the city now. The temperatures have a habit of dropping suddenly here.'
Sarah, furious at the interruption, spat out, 'I haven't got one,' and with tears blinding her vision stumbled back into the homestead.
The next day Lin presented her with a lambswool jacket, and a far from grateful Sarah had spurned the gift. Sean Cartier had sent it, since Lin knew nothing of what had happened the previous evening; Sarah had been too upset to face even the gentle Chinese, and had gone straight to her room.
She had, during the course of that first week, tried to elicit a few facts from Lin, such as where they were, and how far was the nearest township, whether he did the shopping, and which day he went—all to no avail. The answers did not get her anywhere, and this wasn't Lin's fault. It was simply that the homestead was in the middle of nowhere. The supplies were brought in, and left at Joe's garage for collection, the nearest point from the main highway.
It was as Sarah had suspected at the start. Sean Cartier had chosen well when he had brought her here. But then he would, she thought angrily. He
didn't make mistakes, and certainly not where she was concerned. She longed to see a paper, just to convince herself that somewhere in the world everyone was going on with their normal business, but here she met a blank. No papers, it seemed, were to be had, and she suspected that this again was Sean Cartier's doing. She hadn't even seen an old one, and when she remarked on this to Lin, he had placidly said that all news was gloomy, better without them. He wasn't bothered, and boss wasn't bothered either.
Sarah took exception to this bald condemnation of her profession, but held her tongue. Lin did not know that she was a journalist, and she had a feeling that in his old-fashioned way he would have been astounded had he known, and not a little disappointed in her.
Almost a week after Pauline Cook's visit to the homestead, Sarah had an accident. She had balanced herself on a spindly kitchen stool in order to reach into one of the kitchen cupboards. Like Lin, she was not tall enough to reach the higher cupboards, and she overbalanced and fell heavily on to her left shoulder.
At least it was only her shoulder that had taken the brunt of the fall, and a shaky exploration of the arm had proved that the arm was not broken. Lin, returning from doing the household chores at this point, was extremely concerned to find her sitting on the floor leaning up against the wall while she recovered her breath.
He hovered over her anxiously, and assisted her to her feet and over to a kitchen chair while
he made her a hot drink. 'Boss over at Cooks',' he said worriedly. 'I can get him on the radio.'
`You'll do no such thing,' Sarah said hastily, her weakness now replaced by an abhorrence of having herself examined by that man. 'Look, I haven't broken my arm. All I've got is a bruised shoulder. It's painful now, but in a day or so I'll be okay,' she stated firmly.
She saw Lin's anxious glance at her. He wanted to believe her, but she knew what he had in mind. Had she dislocated her shoulder? Well, she was certain that she hadn't. It was painful, but not that painful. 'Look, I can move my shoulder. See?' She winced at the pain this movement produced, but it proved her point for the time being. 'He'll be furious if you haul him back for nothing,' she went on.
Lin remained unconvinced, but he promised not to put a call out for Sean's return to the homestead, and said nothing about his intentions when Sean returned later that night.
It was as much as Sarah could hope for. During the course of the day, she would somehow prove that it was not necessary for him to inform his master about the accident. No matter what it cost her that shoulder was going to make a rapid recovery!
By the time she went to her room soon after ten that evening, she was sure that she had succeeded in convincing Lin that there was nothing to worry about. She had refused to act the invalid and sit on one of the kitchen chairs while Lin prepared their lunch, and insisted on doing small chores that she was sure that she
couldn't have done if she had done any serious damage to her shoulder.
Once in her room, however, she came up against the problem of removing her cotton top. As thin and light as it was, the now stiffening shoulder sent waves of pain through her as she attempted its removal.
After several tries, she gave it up. She would have to sleep in the wretched thing. Perhaps tomorrow when the bruises came out it would be more manageable.
She had just got herself in as near a comfortable position for sleep as was possible, when after a perfunctory knock, Sean was in her room.
For a moment or so she thought she was dreaming, then she snapped out of her doziness, and attempted to sit up a little too quickly for the injured shoulder. The pain made her angrier still at the way he had foisted his presence on to her.
`Lin told me you'd had a fall,' he said abruptly, before she could vent her feelings on him.
`It's nothing,' she said between her teeth. 'I told Lin to say nothing about it, and he promised,' she added indignantly.
Sean stood looking down at her from his great height, then with a purposeful stride he came towards the bed. 'Lin is my man,' he said bluntly. 'He knew better than to obey your instructions. Let's have a look at that shoulder,' he ordered brusquely, then stared down at her. `Do you usually sleep in your day clothes?' he demanded. 'Why the hell didn't you tell me you were that short?' he said angrily. 'I thought you people always travelled prepared for stopovers.'
`We do!' Sarah replied just as angrily. 'Only I didn't come prepared for a four week stopover!' she added furiously.
To her further annoyance, Sean seemed to think this was amusing, and a brief grin flitted over his usually stern features.
He didn't have to ask which shoulder it was by the crooked way Sarah was sitting, and she had to suffer the indignity of his probing fingers around her collarbone first, then on to the shoulder-bone.
For such a big man his touch was gentle but sure, because Sarah was prepared to shout like mad if he hurt her, but to her disappointment no such display was warranted. 'You've only bruised it,' he said, after a perfunctory examination. 'Be sore for a few days,' he added, but nothing to worry about.'
She glared up at him. 'I could have told you that,' she said pithily. Now, do you mind if I get some sleep?'
`After we've made you a little more comfortable,' he replied, and left the room before she could reply, and she was left wondering whether he would bring her a couple more pillows, or perhaps a couple of painkillers to help her sleep. Her mind rambled on; she didn't think she would need anything to make her sleep, it was taking her all her time to stay awake now, she thought drowsily, then recalling what he had said about her sleeping in her T-shirt, she gave an ironic smile. She didn't think he would have any spare nightdresses about the place. Of course, there was always one of Lin's nightshirts!
She was rudely awoken out of these amusing imaginings by the return of Sean, and her wide eyes went first to the bowl of hot liquid that he was carrying, then to the flimsy nightdress slung over his shoulders. The smell emitting from the bowl reminded her of her bygone youth when she had helped out at a local stables to pay for her riding lessons. The liniment that they had put on lame horses' forelegs had had a similar smell, but that was nothing to the indignation she felt on sight of that flimsy nightdress. If he thought—
`Just what,' she demanded dangerously, 'did you have in mind?'
Sean's blue eyes met hers. 'This will ease the soreness,' he said, indicating the bowl he put down on the bedside table, and slung the nightdress across the bed. 'I don't t
hink I have to explain that,' he added.
`Have a stock of them, do you?' asked Sarah, taking refuge in sarcasm. She was both embarrassed and furious.
Sean's eyes glinted dangerously. 'Watch your words, my girl,' he warned her. 'You're in no position to fling out any challenges.'
`Who's challenging?' Sarah bit out. 'Well, you can leave the liniment. I'll put some on,' she added grudgingly, 'and thanks for the thought,' she tacked on. He was right, she was in no position to antagonise him.
Sean gave her a long look. 'Take that shirt off,' he ordered, as he dipped some cotton wool into the liniment.
She stared at him. 'I said I would do it,' she declared, feeling panic rise up.
Sean's blue eyes looked like chips of ice. 'Look, I'm tired. So let's get this over, shall we? How the hell can you do it? You're not a contortionist, are you? Don't tell me you're shy,' he sneered at her. 'I'm not exactly a country boy—I've been around.'
Hence the stock of flimsy nightdresses, thought a frantic Sarah; anything to take her mind off her predicament. 'I'll let Lin do it,' she replied obstinately.
Sean let out a long sigh that showed that his patience was at an end with her. 'I wouldn't dream of causing him such embarrassment,' he said through clenched teeth. 'He'd have to be blindfolded first, and that could lead to a few problems.'
They seemed to be at stalemate, but Sarah had not bargained for Sean's determination. He caught hold of the bottom of her shirt and proceeded to ease it up to her shoulders, but even in her fury, it was plain to see her pain at attempting to raise her arm.
Without more ado, Sean went over to the dressing-table and opened one of the top drawers, and after a short search emerged with a pair of nail scissors in his hand, then he strode back to the utterly miserable Sarah, who was through complaining. It was like coming up against a stone wall, and the sooner you stopped banging your head against it, the better!
She felt the cotton material give as he cut it from the back, and it was only a matter of seconds before the tattered remains of the shirt were eased from her shoulders.
It wasn't much consolation, but Sarah was glad that she still had her bra on, so at least she was still decent, but she had reckoned without Sean, who, without a by your leave, slipped the strap down from her injured shoulder, and left her feeling as if she was taking part in a strip-tease. Somewhere, she thought wildly, there should be accompanying music, only she didn't have a feather to cover herself with, she mused hysterically, as she clutched hastily at the slowly lowering strap that was about to reveal all.
Sean was dipping the cotton wool into the liniment at that point, but was not too absorbed in his task to miss this sudden action of preservation on Sarah's part. 'If you're putting on an act for my benefit, forget it,' he said angrily. `Like me, you've been around. Trying to act the innocent cuts no ice with me. It just bores me.' He gave a swift glance about the room. The old counterpane had been changed for a soft blue one, the rickety chair replaced by an old but comfortable armchair, and the lino covered by a long blue runner carpet. 'You've fooled Lin, I see,' he commented caustically, 'and that's pretty good. I always thought he was more than shrewd.'
He dabbed on the liniment with sure practised strokes. But then you're good at fooling people, aren't you?' he went on, 'even wise old Lin. It just goes to show how much damage you can do.' He popped the soaked cotton wool back into the bowl, and stood up and gazed down at her. 'I suppose there's lots more Dons out there, aren't there, just panting to fall under your spell. Makes
you feel good, does it, seeing a man on his knees? Well, that little pleasure will have to wait a mite longer,' he added harshly, then he walked towards the door, but looked back at her as he opened it. 'Of course,' he mused hatefully, 'it could be months before they decide to publish that find, maybe years.'
Sarah's brilliant eyes showed her feelings, and he gave a low laugh. 'What a pity it's all wasted. You could be past your prime when the all clear's given.'
She wanted to throw the bowl at him, but she knew the chances were that she would miss and leave a mess for poor Lin to clear up the following day, so she contented herself by paying Sean back in his own coin. She sent him a luring smile—as he had said, she was practised in cajolery. 'Aren't you going to help me into this lovely nightie?' she asked huskily. 'I'm practically helpless, you know,' she added temptingly.
She had the pleasure of seeing Sean's face harden, and his eyes pierced hers. 'I might take you up on that some time,' he said harshly. `Thank your lucky stars that you're out of action for the time being,' and he slammed the door behind him as he stamped out of the room.
Sarah sat blinking in amazement at her audacity. How could she have been so stupid! If he had taken her up on her offer she would have died of shame! She eased herself down into the bed. Already the shoulder had lost its stiffness. Whatever liniment he had used, it was working, and by the next day should be hardly noticeable.
Her eyelids drooped as she felt sleep stealing
over her. Why on earth had she taunted him like that? she thought drowsily. How stupid could you get? Yet somehow she had known that she was safe. He had put enough distance between them the last time his feelings got the better of him, hadn't he? No, she concluded, with a drowsy sigh, he might be attracted to her, but his pride would always win the day. On this comfortable thought, she fell asleep.
The next morning her shoulder was so much better that she was able to dress without too much discomfort. Purplish blue patches were appearing at the top of her arm, and this was all to the good, she thought, as she slipped on the blouse of her silk suit. Apart from Martha's revealing T-shirt, that she couldn't possibly wear until she had stitched up the front, she had no option but to wear the blouse, that had not taken kindly to washing, owing to the fact that it needed special treatment, and was a mass of creases. There was also the salient fact that it was meant for more fancy occasions than a stay in the wilds. Sarah had been in attendance at a prize giving ceremony when the summons had come through for this assignment, and had only been able to dash back to the flat to pick up her overnight case, that was always kept at the ready for such occasions.
She sighed as she surveyed the limp wrinkled patches on the blouse. If only she had known—The first thing on the agenda now was a needle and thread. She ought to have seen to it before, she told herself, as she made her way down to the kitchen for breakfast.
Lin's half worried glance at her on her arrival in the kitchen, turned into a pleased smile when she said airily, 'All right, I forgive you. I hadn't thought you might get into trouble if you didn't tell the boss.'
On his enquiry on how the shoulder was, she was able to give a favourable report. The stiffness had gone, she told him.
After breakfast, she was mystified by Lin's solemn, 'Missy come with me,' and followed him warily out of the kitchen and through to the main section of the homestead.
For obvious reasons, she hung back from what she was certain was going to be a confrontation with Sean, and sensing her reluctance, Lin said simply, 'Boss says you need shirts. We go and see what's what.'
Sarah's eyebrows rose, as she wondered whose shirts would be offered. Lin's or Sean's? Lin's would fit her better than his boss's. On the other hand, Sean's shirts would make her a nice mini-dress, although she wasn't too sure that Lin would approve, she thought light heartedly, her spirits somewhat lightened after her fears of meeting Sean had been dispelled.
To her amazement, the room Lin took her to was as feminine a boudoir as she had ever seen. Soft lilacs and pinks blended together, with deep purple drapes at the wide windows, and a matching velvet counterpane on the splendid divan. Lovely watercolour pictures hung on the Regency striped walls, and on either side of the fitted dressing-table unit were deep fitted wardrobes, where Lin was obviously headed, followed
a little reluctantly by Sarah, her feet sinking into the deep pile of a lilac carpet.
There couldn't have been a greater comparison from this suite with the
room that Sarah had been given, for it had its own en-suite shower room, that she caught sight of through an open door, as tastefully fitted out as the room she was in, and she could now understand Lin's embarrassment on learning where she was to be billeted.
However, had she been given a choice she would cheerfully have plumped for the quarters she was in, rather than these ultra-luxurious surroundings, particularly under the circumstances of her presence at the homestead. She wasn't a guest, just a tramp Sean Cartier had wanted to teach a lesson.
Lin slid one of the wardrobe doors back and disclosed shelves with several feminine articles on them, among them light blouses and warm jumpers. 'Boss says take what you want,' he invited her smilingly.
Sarah stared at the clothes. They were not off-the-peg articles, but costly garments, and she was horrified at the thought of raiding someone else's wardrobe, and moved back away from the wardrobe as if she had been caught stealing. 'I'd rather not,' she said firmly, convinced that these clothes belonged to one of Sean Cartier's women, and she would rather wear Martha's T-shirt, deep V or no deep VI
Lin surveyed her solemnly. 'Missy Kathy not mind,' he said softly in his sing-song voice.
`But I do,' Sarah stated flatly. 'No matter about what Missy Kathy likes. If you could let
me have a needle and thread, I can manage with what I've got,' she said firmly.
Lin's expression was quite comical, and if Sarah hadn't been so put out by the fact that Sean Cartier expected her to wear his women's clothes, she might have been amused. As it was, she was coldly furious.
`No understand,' Lin said patiently. 'Missy Kathy boss's sister. Now Missy Bandaman. Comes for break from city sometimes. No come for some time,' he added urgingly.
Sarah could not understand why Lin's words gave her such a lift of the heart, but they did, and she wasn't about to seek an explanation. However, Mrs Bandaman—all women, it seemed, were 'Missy' to Lin—would not feel at all happy at someone wearing her clothes. 'I'm not all that badly off for clothes, Lin,' she said cheerfully, `and I'm not expecting to stay all that long,' and she turned to leave.