by Gloria Bevan
A blissful feeling of content stole over her as she nestled against his brown, sinewy shoulder. There was a sense of security in being held firmly in his strong arms ... security and something else, something she couldn’t define. Did he mean to hold her close, so very close to him? His cotton shirt, open to the waist, was singed with embers of blackened trees and smelled strongly of smoke, yet oddly she didn’t mind a bit. Blame that fall down the slopes!
‘We’ll soon be out into the clearing.’ But she knew it wasn’t the heat and danger and drifting smoke that was causing her to lie limp and relaxed in Jard’s arms but a sheer drugged sensation of deep content. If only, she mused dreamily, he would treat her this way more often, so concerned and protective and unexpectedly tender. Who would have believed that he could set her down so gently in the Land Rover, as if she were made of glass?
She giggled weakly. ‘I’m not all that bad.’
‘Not all that good either!’ He climbed into the driver’s seat, threw a steadying arm around her shoulder and set the vehicle in motion. How very different was this ride, the thoughts slid into her mind from that earlier trip in the Land Rover with him when with reckless abandon he had deliberately sent the vehicle hurtling down sheer slopes. Now he was taking care not to jolt her any more than could be helped. Almost it was worth the accident, she mused, to see the concern in his face.
His voice broke across her musing, ‘Does that bruise on your forehead worry you?’
She put a hand to the swelling below her hairline. ‘Not really.’ Nothing really worries me right at this moment, Jard, not when I’m here with you.
‘We’ll be home soon,’ his tone was strangely tender, ‘then you can take it easy for the rest of the day.’
Home! The word rang a bell in her heart. She didn’t have a home here, not any more. And wasn’t that the whole purpose of her ride to the burn-off today to let Jard know what had happened? All at once she was finding it very difficult to find the words, but they had passed the airstrip and were moving into a bush-filled gully in sight of the homestead and she knew she was running out of time. ‘I have to go away,’ she brought out baldly, and raised herself to glance across at him. ‘That’s what I was coming to tell you when I got tossed off Blaze.’
‘What’s got into you, Lanie?’ The rough sweetness of his tones was turning her bones to water. A sudden urgency tinged his voice. ‘You don’t want to go running away, do you?’
‘No, no, of course not!’ The betraying words were past her lips before she could stop to think.
He drew her close to him and once again the heavenly sense of wellbeing flooded her senses.
‘You can forget it! I’ll tell you something, Lanie. You’re certainly not leaving!’
She eyed him in blank astonishment. ‘Why not?’
‘I won’t let you go, that’s why!’ His smile was so warm it took her breath away. ‘I do the hiring and the firing, remember? Right now you’re hired!’
If only it weren’t so hard to get through to him. She jerked her mind back to the vibrant masculine tones.
‘Anyway, what gave you that crazy idea?’ All at once his expression hardened. ‘You haven’t fallen out with Sandy?’
‘No, I haven’t!’ She flung the words at him. So he still suspected her of some relationship with his father. Oh, she might have known his unfamiliar solicitude was no more than pity because she’d taken a fall. How could she have been taken in by a few words of sympathy? ‘If you want to know the reason why I’m leaving,’ she tried for dignity, ‘it’s because Edna came back today. She didn’t go to England after all. She walked into the house a while ago, rarin’ to get back into her kitchen.’
‘You don’t say!’ Jard gave a shout of laughter. ‘Don’t tell me—let me guess! The bride had a change of heart at the last minute and took off with another guy.’
Lanie said in surprise, ‘How did you know?’
‘It sticks out a mile! Nothing but a non-wedding would have stopped Edna’s long-overdue trip to England.’ He tossed her a sideways grin. ‘Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed the wedding parade plastered over her bedroom walls?’
She had to laugh. ‘Have I ever?’ Her face sobered. ‘So I guess I just—have to go.’
‘Who says so?’ His tone hardened. ‘I take it you’ve had a word with Sandy?’
She said in surprise ‘Sandy? No, he doesn’t know. I wanted to tell you first of all.’ It had to be said. ‘To give in my notice.’
‘You don’t sound too happy about it,’ Jard observed.
Wildly she sought for an answer. ‘I guess I wouldn’t feel happy about anything right at this moment.’ All at once she was feeling deflated. Where was her moment of triumph? He simply seemed to take for granted her resignation from the job, a nothing thing. To the big boss she was one of his employees, one he had never taken to anyway. Lost in her bleak thoughts, she was scarcely aware of his flat tones. ‘We’ll talk it over later when you’re feeling better.’
He was letting her down lightly, of course. No doubt, she thought angrily, he was feeling relieved at the prospect of having his familiar cook back once more, looking forward to a change of menu. No more half cooked mutton chops followed by a steady diet of peaches for dessert. All at once the frustrations and disappointments of the day came to a head. To think she had been through so much today to see him, to tell him her news, and it had fallen flat. He didn’t even care!
As they went on in silence, taking a Land Rover track over the green sheep-studded slopes, she stole a glance towards him. He was looking straight ahead, his eyes as cold and grey as the tossing sea beneath a sky where gunmetal clouds massed together. ‘I’ll get another country job,’ she said to him, adding with a wry smile, ‘now that I’ve had some experience. That is, if you’ll give me a reference? I know I’ve only been here a week, but—’
‘Like I said,’ he cut in, and now there was no tenderness in his cool tones, ‘we’ll talk about it later, when you get rid of that swelling on your head. Leave everything to Edna to cope with tonight. You’re to take it easy, right?’
‘But I'm not ill or anything—’ She made to jerk herself from his grasp, but he pinned her to him even closer.
'That’s an order! Hey, look who’s heading this way!’ Brent was riding over the brow of the hill. As he came nearer his expression of anxiety faded as he recognised the girl in the Land Rover. Jard pulled the vehicle to a stop as the rider drew rein beside them.
‘Lanie!’ Brent’s voice rang with relief. ‘If I’m not glad to see you! Gee, I’m sorry I let you go off on Blaze. If I’d known what I do now about that horse—’
‘It wasn’t your fault!’ Lanie spoke to him from the window. ‘The flames suddenly shot up and he took off. Luckily it was just me and not both of us who went rolling down the cliff. And awfully lucky,’ she added warmly, ‘that Jard saw me bale out and came to the rescue.’
‘Lanie can ride like the wind.’ Jard told him. ‘Nothing wrong with her riding! She couldn’t know that the old devil is paranoid when it comes to fire. Thing is,’ he explained to Lanie, ‘he had one hell of a fright once and he’s never got it out of his system.’
She smiled. ‘I’ll remember that next time.’ Her heart plummeted. Only there wouldn’t be a next time. Why must she keep forgetting?
Back in the rooms she now shared with Edna, Lanie was thankful to find the place deserted. Her suitcase, she found, had been moved into the spare bedroom and her dresses and cotton tops were hanging neatly on hangers in the big old-fashioned wardrobe. On the way to the bureau in search of fresh panties and bra she paused, arrested by her reflection in the mirror. Could that really be herself, that scruffy-looking girl whose face was streaked with earth and dried blood, hair entangled with blackened twigs borne by the wind from the blazing hillside. Swiftly she gathered up undergarments and a cotton wrap. She found the first aid kit in Edna’s room, then she headed for the bathroom. Soon she was pouring drops of disinfectant into steaming hot wate
r and washing her hair beneath the shower, revelling in the touch of clean soft rainwater.
As she got ready to go to dinner with the others she told herself that tonight she would have need of all the confidence she could summon if she were to give in her notice to Jard before he got in before her and gave her her marching orders. She must look her best, she reflected, running a comb through long red-gold strands that curled damply around her face as if they had a life of their own. The babyish dimples that flickered at the corners of her lips were a definite disadvantage, but those she could do nothing about. Small flames of excitement lighted her eyes, bright with defiance and something else, something she couldn’t put a name to.
Tonight she would no longer be the temporary cook—no sir! She was free. Free to do as she pleased and to look glamorous—well, as glamorous as she could when adorned with odd strips of bandage. Skilfully applied make-up concealed grazes and scratches on her face, then she needed only a touch of mascara to her lashes, a smear of soft pink lipstick on her mouth.
She pulled over her head a filmy blue-grey muslin blouse and tied around her slim waist an ankle-length batik skirt patterned in soft tonings of blues and lilacs. Then she fastened around her throat a necklace of fine silver chains and wriggled her feet into woven string sandals.
Odd to realise that tonight she would have no need to make an appearance at the dining table until the last moment. She would be there just as if she were any ordinary guest at the house, or a friend of Jard’s, like Paula, instead of being part of the station work-force.
When she went into the shadowy dining room she was glad she had taken trouble to make herself look attractive, for she was greeted by a startled silence (a tribute to her unfamiliar appearance?). Brent, regarding her with an admiring glance, gave a low appreciative whistle. Immediately Lanie found herself to be the centre of attention. Edna, her face anxious, said, ‘I couldn’t find the first aid box anywhere!’
‘It’s all right,’ Lanie told her, smiling, ‘I helped myself to it.’
“How are you feeling, love, after that accident you had today?’ Clara’s voice was warmly sympathetic. ‘We’ve been so worried about you. When your horse came back without you and no one knew where you’d gone and we couldn’t find any of the men. Then Brent came back and he went to look for you. You’re not hurt too badly?’ Before Lanie could make an answer she added with a glance of appreciation. ‘You look all right, anyway. Doesn’t she, Jard?’ She appealed to the man who was mixing drinks at the cocktail cabinet. Lanie sent Jard a quick glance, but he was standing in the shadows and she couldn’t discern his expression.
‘Sure! All the same, this should hurry up the healing.’ He was crossing the room and handing her a glass.
She eyed him suspiciously. ‘What is it?’
‘Never mind—down it! You'll feel better for it.’
She wrinkled her nose at him. ‘I feel fine—’
‘All the same—’
‘Oh, all right, then.’ She drank the fiery liquid, pulled a face and put down the glass.
At that moment Sandy came into the room, his gaze bent on Lanie. She caught the twinkle in his eyes. ‘What’s this I’ve been hearing about you taking a toss and scaring the wits out of everyone around the place, and you a crack rider—’
‘I know, I know.’ Her bright smile flashed out. ‘It was the fire that sent Blaze into a panic. Thank heaven he didn’t go plunging down the cliff with me!’ A belated sense of gratitude made her add, ‘And wasn’t I lucky that Jard saw the whole thing even through all that smoke and came to rescue me in the Land Rover!’ She raised her glance to meet Jard’s deep intent look. Why was he always watching whenever she and Sandy were chatting together?
‘So long as you’re okay.’ She brought her mind back to Sandy’s sympathetic tones. He went to pour himself a drink, then returned to her side. ‘You wanted to see the burn-off, was that it? Can’t say I blame you for that, it’s quite a sight, exciting or scary, depending on which way you look at it. When the manuka's tinder-dry like now, it bums like all hell let loose! If it weren’t for the cordon of standing bush it would be right out of control.’
‘I can imagine.’ Lanie dropped her voice to a taut whisper. ‘There’s something I’ve got to talk to you about. I can’t stay here, not now that Edna’s come, back. Don’t you see—’
‘Not to worry, lass.’ His comforting tones cut across her distressed whisper. ‘Now don’t you go tearing off just because things didn’t work out the way we thought. Come on now, tell me, you don’t want to rush away from here, do you?’
‘Not really.’ The words seemed to come without her volition. ‘But Jard—’
‘Never you mind about him! We’ll work something out—looks like it’s time to start on that soup course that Edna’s serving up.’
As she went with him to the table Lanie reflected that he meant well. He was trying to let her down lightly, of course, postponing the moment when he would be forced to come right out with it and bid her goodbye. In the talk and laughter echoing around her, her silence went unnoticed. She was thinking that everyone here would be taking it for granted that she would be leaving very soon now that Edna had returned to be once more in charge of her kitchen.
It was a meal cooked to perfection, yet Lanie found the food to have little taste and she had to force herself to eat. She had only been here a week, she scolded herself, so it was absurd that she should feel this lost sensation about leaving. She made an attempt to boost her sinking spirits. There were other farms and sheep stations who would be delighted to have her work for them in a domestic capacity. What was the matter with her, that Rangimarie held her so? It wasn’t even as if the boss wanted her around the station. He’d made no secret of his opinion of her right from the start, and he’d had no reason since to change his attitude towards her.
The meal seemed to Lanie to last for ever, but at last Jard left the table to go and work in his office, as had been his custom on most nights since she had been here. Brent, excusing himself, went to his own quarters. Edna was carrying out the coffee cups and Clara went to help her.
‘Not you, Lanie.’ Sandy raised a protesting hand as she made to join the other women in clearing away the dishes. ‘You’ve got yourself a holiday tonight.’
‘Thanks, Sandy.’ She went to join him in the lounge room, but although she chatted brightly with him, her thoughts were busy. Maybe Jard will come out of the office before long and I’ll be able to have things out with him. I’ll have to make some arrangements about transport from here, putting an ad in the local newspaper—all that stuff. I don’t want to face up to it, but I’ve got to.
But the time wore on and Jard was still closeted in his office. Edna described to Clara and Lanie her recent stay in the city and Sandy appeared to be intent on the television programmes. Probably, Lanie mused, he was trying to avoid any discussion with her in the matter of her leaving Rangimarie. This time, though he could do nothing to help her, not when Jard now' had his perfect opportunity to send her packing.
It was late in the evening when the others bade Lanie goodnight and drifted away. Left alone, she decided it was useless to wait any longer in the hope that Jard would return to the lounge room. She moved down the long hall and as she neared his office the door was flung open and Jard, tall and impressive, stood in the opening. ‘Come in here for a minute, will you, Lanie?’
She drew a deep breath. This is it. I won’t let him tell me to go!’ Resolutely she gathered her defences together and preceded him into a room where the walls were covered with aerial photographs of the station, pictures of horse trials and prize-winning sheep, and clips of files and tallies.
‘Take a seat!’ He pushed forward a stool and she perched herself on the high seat while he dropped down opposite her on a leather-covered swivel chair.
He faced her across the wide desk, eyeing her with his penetrating look that, as always, did things to her composure and sent her thoughts flying in all directions. It w
asn’t fair. Lanie tried to pull herself together. Could it be the overhead light bulb that lent his face those shadows, making his lean face look stem and angular? ‘I know what you’re going to say,’ she told him breathlessly, ‘but it’s all right. You don’t need to worry. I’ll be leaving right away, I have to.’ Now where had those betraying words come from? If only he hadn’t noticed the slip. ‘Now that Edna’s back here again,’ she ran on quickly, ‘you won’t be needing me any more.’
‘You reckon!’ His smile, that heart-knocking smile that melted all her defences, sent her resolutions from her mind. ‘Thing is,’ he was eyeing her speculatively, ‘how do you feel about taking on something else around the place?’
Taken by surprise, she raised clear green eyes to his gaze, then dropped her glance, unable to sustain his look. She said very low, ‘What—sort of something else?’
He waved a lean, darkly tanned hand. ‘All sorts. If you’d put me in the picture before about being able to ride ’
She said unthinkingly, ‘I thought Sandy would have told you.’
His face tightened and a betraying anger showed in his eyes. He was looking straight at her, his eyes narrowed. ‘There are quite a few things he didn’t let on to me about.’
Lanie felt the anger rising in her like a dark cloud. She leaned forward, the colour staining her cheeks. ‘Are you trying to say—’ She broke off in confusion. It was useless. For how could she explain the truth of the matter without letting Sandy down, and after all, he had got her this job in the first place. If only she didn’t have this feeling that keeping his secret meant so much to him.
‘Let’s keep to the point, shall we?’ Ice dripped in Jard’s tone. This is the moment, she thought, when he’s going to tell me to go. There wasn’t much comfort in knowing that it had been her own suggestion. She jerked her mind back to the cool, cutting tone.