KELLY'S MAN
Rosemary Carter
Kelly knew she was the one responsible
Against her better judgment, for her fiance's sake, Kelly bribed George Anderson to guide their party up the mountain.
When George was injured, Kelly was prepared to help out with money. But Nicholas Van Widen, George's friend and imperious neighbor, had other ideas-like Kelly working at the Andersons' hotel while Mary Anderson stayed with her husband.
It was fair, Kelly admitted. If only Nicholas wouldn't persist in seeing her as an incompetent, spoiled, rich man's daughter. In fact, he seemed determined to prove she was useless!
CHAPTER ONE
'FOR the last time, George—will you take us up to Berg tomorrow?'
'No, Mr Sloan. I told you, it isn't safe. The trail is still too slippery after the rain.'
For a few moments there was silence. Looking from one face to another, Kelly did not know then that it was a scene which she would remember long afterwards. Gary Sloan, her fiance, his good-looking face flushed and defiant. George Anderson, proprietor of Great Peaks Lodge, standing his ground, yet uncomfortable because his guests were displeased. Sheila and Alex, interested bystanders, eager to follow the trail but, unlike their friend, with nothing at stake.
And a little apart, watching the scene with an expression that was at once aloof and sardonic, a tall rugged-featured man whom Kelly had heard addressed only as Nicholas.
'Then I'll go alone.' Gary spoke into the silence, his voice a little too loud, his eyes blazing with recklessness.
'No, Gary!' She drew a taut breath as she put a detaining hand on her fiance's arm. 'You can't!'
'Try stopping me.' Sullenly he pushed her hand away. Briefly Kelly was reminded of a little boy who had been thwarted in a game. Then he said, I must take a picture from the overhanging rock- know there's a sizeable bet on it,' and she realised the analogy had been incorrect. Gary had gambled more than he could afford, and he was grimly determined not to lose the bet.
There were times when Kelly wondered how well she knew her fiancé. Their courtship had been so much a whirlwind affair that there had been little time to learn much of each other's essential characters. Yet already she had come to recognise a streak of daring and recklessness, a determination to have his own way no matter the cost. But while she was fascinated by this side of his nature—until now she had never known anyone quite like Gary— she was frightened by it too.
She had felt the tautness in his arm. He had to do what he wanted. Nothing could stand in his way. He had made a bet that he would take a photo of the overhanging rock, and it was a bet he meant to win, no matter the danger. And there was danger in taking the trail without a guide, Kelly knew; perhaps more than Gary cared to think about. In the circumstances, there was only one thing to do: George Anderson must be persuaded to be their guide.
'Mr Anderson, won't you think about it?' She smiled at him, warmth lighting green eyes fringed with long black lashes. Kelly, who knew only the image her mirror threw back at her, was unaware that her eyes danced when she smiled, or that her lips curved appealingly, so that she looked somehow vulnerable and younger than her twenty-three years. But if there were those who melted to her smile, the hotel-keeper stood his ground.
'I can't do it,' he muttered unhappily.
Another glance at Gary. Both hands were stuck in the pockets of his corded trousers. A mutinous look had been added to the recklessness in his eyes. There was no hint of softening, of giving in...
Kelly took a deep breath. She hated to use her money to gain an advantage for herself, but for once it seemed necessary. There was Gary's safety to consider. Besides, George Anderson had an air of solid reliability which was reassuring. He might not like the situation, but she did not doubt that he could cope with it. 'We would make it worth your while,' she said.
A stir of interest. All eyes swung to Kelly's face. Though her attention at that moment should have been solely on George's reaction, inexplicably her gaze was drawn to Nicholas, the stern-faced man who nursed his beer at the next table. His eyes had narrowed, his expression was derisive. Kelly felt warmth wash her cheeks.
She lifted her head and looked back at George. As steadily as she was able, she told him what she would pay him to take the group up the mountain.
'Miss Stanwick...' the first hint of unbending in the hotel-keeper's stance, 'I must think...'
'Don't be a fool, George.' The man called Nicholas spoke for the first time. His voice was hard.
George Anderson shifted restlessly. 'I do have to think, Nick ... Most of the trail is okay.'
'Not near the rock. It's treacherous.'
'Sure. But I know that trail like the back of my hand.'
Nicholas turned and fixed Kelly with a scathing glance. 'If it's the money, it's not worth it, George.'
'Look, Nick, you know how things are here right now.' The hotel-keeper was undecided, so obviously tempted by her offer that Kelly was ashamed. As she watched him her stomach muscles knotted with tension. But she did not withdraw the offer, for she knew the danger to Gary if he went up the mountain alone.
George said, 'Mary's expecting the baby in three months, and our finances...' He stared down at hands that worked nervously in his lap. Then he looked up and his face was set in the lines of a man who has made up his mind. 'I'll do it,' he said.
Kelly imagined that Nicholas would argue, that he would dredge up an argument to deflect George from his decision. But she had underestimated the tough self-sufficiency of the man. There was another hard look, one which raked her contemptuously, then he shrugged and addressed himself to the hotel-keeper. 'It's up to you.' He stood up, a long lean figure, tanned and muscled and with an air of polished steel. 'Be seeing you.'
'Then you'll really take us up?' Gary asked exultantly, when Nicholas had left the lounge.
'Yes.'
'Fantastic! We'll start first thing tomorrow morning.'
'It would be better to wait a day or two, give the ground a chance to dry...'
'No.' There was no hesitation in the younger man's tone. 'We want to move on the day after. No, George, old pal, we'll go tomorrow.'
Later, when they were alone together, Gary pulled Kelly to him. 'Thanks, honey. Trust my darling fiancee to save the situation!'
She stirred restlessly in his arms, evading the breath that fanned a hot cheek, the lips that sought hers. 'I don't like it, Gary.'
He was amused. 'When we're married you'll have to learn not to be such an old stick-in-the-mud.'
'I hate bribing people,' she protested.
'For heaven's sake, Kelly!' Though he was laughing, she sensed his exasperation. 'You've done George a favour. He needs the money, you heard that. And I'll win my bet. Jeepers, Joe will be mad when he sees the pictures and has to pay up!' He held her away from him and looked down at her, his eyes glowing with an intense inner excitement. 'What shall we do with the money? Have ourselves a super deluxe party?'
'Do you think money exists only for enjoyment?' Her voice was troubled.
'Of course not.' He frowned impatiently. 'But there's no law that says you can't use some of it for pleasure. And you have so much, Kelly darling.'
She caught her breath, wondering if the words would have slipped out had he not been so exhilarated. Gary had made it clear from the start that the fact that her father was one of the richest industrialists in the country did not matter to him, and she believed him. Nevertheless, the words hit her dully, making her feel oddly depressed.
'Let's find Sheila and Alex,' she suggested, withdrawing from his arms.
It was apparent that he had noticed her mood, for he tried a moment longer to hold her against him. Then he shrugged.. 'Let's,' he agreed. 'We need to make plans for tomorro
w.'
They set out at daybreak next morning. All were warmly dressed, for dawn was a chilly time in the mountains of the Drakensberg. Dew lay heavy on the long rough grass, brushing against their clothes as they walked. Their spirits were high. Even Kelly had shed the depression which had been with her since the discussion in the hotel lounge the previous day. The mountain air had a freshness which was intoxicating, crisp and clean and aromatic with the scents of trees and wild flowers.
George seemed to have forgotten his earlier misgivings, or if he had not he did not mention them. He walked ahead with Gary and Alex. Gary had his camera slung around his neck, and Kelly could hear him telling the hotel-keeper of the bet he had made and why this particular set of photos was of such importance to him.
She could not hear all of his words, but his voice carried through the stillness, vital and excited and boyish. This was the Gary with whom she had fallen in love, impulsive and lively and fun to be with. An antidote to the staidness of a home where both parents were elderly and the guests they entertained-were mainly business associates who were interested in the world of finance to an extent which made Kelly wonder sometimes if they had forgotten that there was more to life than just money.
Her parents had not been happy with her engagement—their visions of a future son-in-law had been of a man who had made his mark in the world —but Kelly had been adamant that Gary was the man she wanted to marry, and eventually they had agreed to the engagement. The wedding was three months away, and already elaborate preparations were being made.
When Kelly had told her parents that she and Gary would be joining his friends Alex and Sheila for a fortnight's holiday in Natal and the mountains of the Drakensberg, she realised they were displeased. But they had not objected. For one thing, Kelly was old enough to lead her own life. For another, she had made it clear that she would be sharing a room with Sheila throughout. If her parents suspected that Gary might try to persuade her to share a room with him instead, they kept their suspicions to themselves. Kelly was twenty- three, and until now she had shown that she could look after herself.
Quite apart from her moral attitude to the matter —a morality which was part of her character, and which, she knew, Sheila and Alex and perhaps even Gary laughed at in private—there was another reason why Kelly would not have wanted to share a room with her fiancee. It was a reason which had to do with Gary himself. For though she was certain she loved him, there were times when he alarmed her, times when she was frightened by a sudden wildness or a totally unpredictable action. No, not frightened ... that was too strong a word. Perhaps after all alarm more aptly described her emotion. And a sense of doubt which she tried very hard to suppress. All of which was absurd, for it was his unorthodox nature which fascinated her, and which had led her to fall in love with him in the first place.
She was glad, Kelly told herself almost fiercely, that Gary had the courage to be different, that he did not kowtow to her as so many men had done in the past, merely because her father was very rich and she, as his only daughter, would one day inherit all he possessed. Nevertheless, there were times—like yesterday, when George Anderson had been persuaded into agreeing to his whims—when she wished that he would curb the streak that was not only wild but stubborn as well.
In refusing to share his bed at this stage, she was not only holding firm to her principles, she was also giving herself a chance to come to terms with Gary as a person, a husband, a man whom she would love not only for the aspects of his personality which appealed to her, but also those which, initially, were foreign to her.
Involuntarily, and without good reason, her mind went to the rugged-faced man called Nicholas. He had made no attempt to hide his contempt at the scene in the lounge. She remembered the arrogant lift of the strong eyebrows, the derision in the grey eyes. She remembered also the look of steel and virility that seemed as much a part of him as the long muscled body and stern tanned features. The thought of him was enough to make her stiffen with tension. The fact that she had taken an instant dislike to the man was no reason to let him interfere with the enjoyment of this day, she told herself angrily. Yet the effort it took to push him from her mind was surprising.
In the light of early dawn the mountains had been grey and brooding, a shadowed mass of towering lines. Now the sun was rising, and with it the countryside was suddenly transformed. The blur of shapes separated into mountains with distinguishable form and shape. It grew lighter, warmer, and by the time George signalled that it was time to stop for breakfast, each member of the party was ready to shed an outer jacket.
George carried a haversack with provisions. After coffee that was strong and steaming, and some sandwiches, they moved on. As the sun climbed higher in the sky, Kelly was struck by the sheer beauty all around her. There was the majesty of the Drakensberg escarpment, one mountain unfolding behind another in a range that ran as far as the eyes could see and beyond. Dragon mountains, as was suggested by their name ... There was the loveliness of the veld, green and fresh after the recent rains, and colourful with thousands of tiny wild flowers. Here and there were bushes with aloes and proteas, the waxy cactus-shaped flowers which were as much a part of Africa as the thorny acacias and the long rough grass of the bush. The air rang with the sound of bird-song, and once a widow-bird crossed the path, flying very near to the ground, with its long widow-weed tail trailing cumbrously behind it. And always there was the sound of water, unusual in a country where rivers and lakes were a rarity. Streams cascaded down the granite slopes of the mountains, rippling and gurgling over rocks, the water clear and inviting. George told Kelly that the streams were the tributaries of a river which flowed through the farmlands of Natal until it reached the sea.
The trail began to climb the side of a mountain. The going was not always easy, for the ground was slippery as George had warned. Now and then it wound uncomfortably close to the edge of a cliff, and often the long veld grass obscured its direction for quite some distance. Clearly it was a trail that only experienced hikers would take on their own. As she followed George's wide back, Kelly was glad that they were not attempting the excursion without a guide.
After a while they entered a canyon. Kelly sensed Gary's mounting excitement. The overhanging rock could not be far away. Now the mountains were tall and dark and very close on all sides. Kelly had not realised quite how high they had climbed until she looked down and saw the floor of the canyon far below. Trees, spindly and leafless, stuck out from the cliff-side at odd angles, their roots sprawling like gaunt octopus tentacles over the bare rocks, and a stream, like a thin silver thread, snaked its way between the canyon walls.
It was almost midday when they came at last to the rock. Kelly drew in her breath at sight of it. It was flat and long, protruding quite some way beyond the sheer edge of the cliff, with nothing but space for thousands of feet beneath it.
The path was very near the edge of the cliff, and Kelly felt a sudden wave of dizziness. Her legs went weak, and the colour drained from her face. In his excitement at having reached the rock, Gary did not notice her distress, but George did. He put a quick arm around her waist to support her, then he propelled her backwards to a point where she could lean against the slope of a sandy bank.
With exclamations of boyish glee Gary and Alex walked on to the rock. Kelly wanted to call out a warning, to beg them to remain where they were, but she stifled the words. She knew her fiance well enough to know that he had not come so far just to stay on the path. She was relieved when George joined them on the rock. He would keep the two young men from doing anything foolish.
Gary took his camera from his shoulder and began to take pictures, and watching him, Kelly began to relax. Even without George beside him she could see that he was steady and unafraid. They had come all this way without incident. When Gary had his pictures they would go back the way they had come. Tomorrow they would be leaving the Drakensberg. Gary would have the completed spool in his suitcase and would be elated at the prospec
t of winning his bet. She wondered now why she had been quite so tense.
The men left the rock and came back to the path. George was chuckling quietly in response to something Alex had said, while Gary was flushed with achievement.
'Glad you came?' Kelly smiled up at her fiancé.
'It was great up there.' His eyes shone with excitement. 'You should have come—Sheila too. It was a fantastic experience!'
Kelly laughed as she shook her head. 'I don't have your courage. But I'm glad you have all your pictures.'
'All but one.' Gary shot a swift glance at George who was still talking to Alex, and then without a word he left the edge of the path and made to climb a little way down the slope. Evidently he wanted a picture of the rock from a different angle.
'Gary! Don't!' The protest burst tautly from Kelly's throat.
George spun round, caught by the horror in her voice.
'Get back immediately!' The command rang out, sharp and angry.
'Don't panic.' Gary's voice floated up to them, cool and amused. 'Just this one picture and then....'
The words slid into a scream of terror. Then came the appalling sound of a fall.
Kelly opened her mouth, but her mouth was so dry that no words came. Her eyes were closed and she was shuddering violently, sick with horror and shock at the thought of the handsome young body lying broken on the floor of the canyon.
'Kelly!' Dimly, through the thudding in her temples, she heard George's voice, felt his hand on her arm. 'Gary's okay.' And then, more impatiently, 'Look after her, Sheila. She looks as if she could faint and I don't want another casualty on my hands* I'm going after Gary.'
'You mean...' She was still shivering as she opened her eyes and tried to focus. 'Gary ... he isn't...?'
'He fell on to a ledge.' Alex sounded subdued and frightened. 'But he can't get back. George is going down to get him.'
It was quite still on the path at the edge of the cliff. Not a word was exchanged between the three people who stood watching, waiting. There was only the fierceness of the sun, almost at its zenith in the vastness of the African sky, and the closeness of the mountains, a closeness that was suddenly menacing. The only sounds came from below them, where a drama of life and death was being played out on a narrow strip of rock; there was the snapping of a branch, the nerve-rendering skitter of a stone, a groan.
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