A Man Called Cameron

by Margaret Pargeter

  His mouth stretched in a travesty of a smile, with no mirth in it, and his eyes resting on her distressed white face were grim and cold. ‘That’s very easily remedied,’ he grated. ‘I’ll pay your return fare to London. It will be cheap at twice the price. Then we can forget we’ve ever known each other.’

  ‘No!’ Her vision blurred, as she stared at him. So it had to come, the time to play her trump card, which wasn’t that at all, really. It was more a pathetic, improbable gesture, unlikely to cut any ice with a man like this. ‘You can’t send us back. David wouldn’t survive! Besides, you owe it to us to let us stay.’

  ‘Owe—you?’ He was cool, almost insulting, in his sneering disbelief.

  ‘It’s true!’ Madly she rushed on as caution deserted her, ‘Your ancestor borrowed five hundred pounds from mine, who was his brother, and never repaid it. All those years ago—with interest it must surely amount to an enormous sum now. Or at least,’ she challenged breathlessly, ‘enough to keep David and me here for a year or two and to send him to a good school.’

  ‘Why, you mercenary little—!’ He called her something to make her ears burn. Without regret, or so it seemed, he was beside her in two strides, this time his hands showing no reluctance to grasp her shaking shoulders. ‘What proof have you? And what sort of mind, to plan this all out?’

  She could feel his fingers digging into her tender skin with the force of his wrath and it took every bit of willpower she had to defy him. ‘It’s all there, in black and white, indisputable records, handed down through generations. It was never repaid.’

  ‘And you intend that I should do this? In spite of your grand theories this sort of thing is nearly always impossible to prove. It’s ridiculous to even discuss it!’

  ‘Oh, I know it’s highly improbable that any court would uphold it legally, but that shouldn’t stop you from trying to be a man of honour. I thought you would have wanted to compensate for your ancestor’s obvious oversight.’

  With his face so black he resembled the Cameron in the painting closely and Petra felt more than a twinge of fright run right through her. For a moment she felt she was back in those wild Highland days with the skirl of the pipes, wild music in the background of dark mountains, and a furious Highlander about to strike her.

  If Neil had such primitive inclinations, he managed to control them partly, only releasing his anger through his voice. ‘You can’t be serious! You imagine I’d let myself be blackmailed—for this is what it would amount to, for a few paltry pounds? Threatened into keeping you in idle luxury for the rest of your life, with no strings attached. You must be crazy!’

  ‘Your friends mightn’t think so if news of this got out.’ Petra strove to speak coolly. That her voice shook appeared to go unnoticed. She quivered even more to see his temper increase. It was of the cold variety, infinitely more frightening, she had always found, than a raging torrent. His icy gaze sliced into her, almost cutting her in two as she made a desperate attempt to stand up to him, to sway him in any way possible—even if, for David’s sake, it meant swallowing every last scrap of pride.

  Neil jeered at her with a marked lack of apprehension for her last wild threat, ‘If you want to broadcast this, you little tramp, just go right ahead. You’ll be the laughingstock, if anyone is—if anyone even bothers to stop and listen. That first time I set eyes on you, when you were standing beside your wrecked car, I knew you spelt trouble! It’s the first and last time I’ll not pay some attention to my intuition.’

  Petra stared at him aghast, scarcely aware now of his hands abruptly leaving her shoulders. ‘You saw me by my car? You mean you were—are—?’ she couldn’t continue, she was so shocked.

  ‘You’re too astute,’ he mocked, never intending to spare her. ‘I was the tall cowboy you talked down to. You were such a starchy little madam I decided to see how far you would go. I certainly never guessed the range of your activities or I’d have turned you around there and then! However, the joke is no longer on me. You’ll be out of here come the morning or I’ll know the reason why. Your car is full of gas, so you have no excuse. I will also contact the car hire firm and arrange to settle your account. This, together with your air fare and over three weeks’ free board, should just about cancel this other debt you talk of—if it ever existed!’

  ‘You really mean it?’ She was trembling so hard inwardly, she could scarcely speak.

  ‘Sure I mean it!’ he flung at her harshly. ‘You can take your soft, slender body and easy kisses somewhere else. I suppose that was all part of the act, all with one end in view!’ He flung back his handsome head and laughed sarcastically, ‘Come to think of it, Miss Sinclair, it might have been interesting to let you stay a while longer. How did you expect you were going to keep me at arms’ length? Or were you prepared to even take me into your bed in order to achieve what you wanted? Another few days you might have thought to have me begging.’

  As her hand came up, as if to strike him, he caught it, a white ring of cold rage around his mouth. ‘Can’t you bear to let me go?’ he taunted. ‘If it’s a fond farewell you’re after I might as well supply this too.’

  Before she quite realised what was happening he jerked her to him again, crushing her against the full length of him until her fair head fell painfully back over his arm. When his mouth came down and brutally assaulted hers she could have cried out, if he had left her with either the breath or inclination to do so. Then, when she thought she was near fainting, she was released, so suddenly she almost fell against the chair behind her. Groping blindly with her hand, she almost collapsed on to it, her legs so weak they wouldn’t seem to hold her.

  ‘I’ll say goodbye to Oliver for you, so you might avoid the possibility of any harrowing scene. You appear to have a flair for the dramatic, Petronella.’

  It might have been some consolation that he didn’t call her Miss Sinclair again, but she felt so degraded by his contemptuous indifference of her feelings that all sense deserted her. ‘At least,’ she choked, ‘he asked me to marry him. He acted decently, he didn’t insult me.’

  Neil flicked her a guarded look, not apparently impressed. The slight, wary narrowing of his glance would be because of Janey. ‘Hurd was merely carried away by your too obvious seductiveness and a pair of cloud-grey eyes. Once you’re gone he’ll soon come to his senses.’

  Petra rubbed the back of her hand childishly over her bruised lips. ‘You like to rule, don’t you?’ she couldn’t stop herself from crying. ‘Other people are merely robots to be directed as you choose. Yet you do it so cleverly no one realises. Oliver has to marry Janey—for your convenience, I suspect, more than his own. You don’t even stop to consider if they really love each other.’

  ‘You think that’s important, the only reason for marriage?’ again he sneered.

  ‘I would hope so.’ Irrationally Petra felt it was necessary to pursue this point which was no concern of hers. She felt utterly distracted, but Oliver had been kind. If she could do something for him, then mustn’t she try? ‘Surely it isn’t possible to be happy, to feel really close to someone without being in love?’

  ‘You’re quite mistaken.’

  ‘No!’

  His voice held a shade of violence which her antagonism didn’t appease. ‘Don’t tell me you aren’t aware of other attractions. When I held you in my arms the other night I could have gone much further with you and you couldn’t have stopped me. You wouldn’t call that love, but could you honestly swear you had no pleasure from it? Every bit of you responded, and I can relive every second of it.’

  Her face flushed, painfully red. ‘It would take a man like you to put it into words!’

  ‘Seeing I won’t get another chance, I see no sense in quibbling. I’d advise you to ask yourself, when you meet a man of Hurd’s calibre again, just what it is you really want!’

  ‘If I met Oliver again,’ she cried recklessly, ‘I would agree to marry him just, to spite you!’

  His blue eyes were sombre, almos
t black with derision as they fixed on her white face. ‘I believe this would come under the heading of revenge, but as it won’t happen I don’t intend to worry. Just get out of my sight, girl, at once! The way I feel right now could be dangerous. I won’t see you again, but I will arrange to have your car brought around in the morning, about nine. That should give you plenty of time.’

  It did. Too much, in fact. Petra was ready and waiting, David by her side, long before then. Almost she had been tempted to go earlier and find the car herself, but she was too frightened of running into Neil. Where he was concerned her feeling was too numb even to think about him. To meet him again this morning might unbalance the last of her precarious control devastatingly. She was trying desperately to ignore that she might have fallen in love with him, for what else could account for the almost physical heartache which had torn at her all through the long weary hours of the night? It seemed bitter to realise that if he had lived in a mud hut, without a penny to his name, she would have stayed with him on any terms, but after what she had done and said he would never believe her now.

  She hadn’t slept, as the dark shadows under her eyes bore witness. Not that she had actually gone to bed. She had sat on the edge of it, her eyes fixed on the distant dark horizon as if hoping inspiration might come with the dawn. As soon as it was light she had packed her few meagre belongings, for long seconds gazing at Neil’s pictured face before thrusting the portrait deep into the bottom of her bag. She had wanted to leave it, in some way it might have appeased her wounded pride, but at the last moment her resolution failed her and she had been unable to bring herself to part with it.

  Then she had to waken David and tell him they were leaving almost immediately. This had been the hardest thing—perhaps after parting from Neil. He had been childishly incredulous, then frankly disbelieving until Petra had begun to weep.

  It had only been briefly, for she had quickly pulled herself together, but it had been enough to convince him she wasn’t joking.

  ‘Oh, Petra!’ he’d breathed, his young face almost more bewildered than her own. ‘I like it here. Neil and I get along fine. He’s shown me such a lot, how to do a lot of things as well.’

  ‘I know, darling.’

  David’s face, which was tanned and looking so much better than when they had first arrived, crumpled unashamedly, and for a long moment, as Petra put a consoling arm around his shoulder, they clung together.

  His voice had trembled slightly, ‘I’m going to miss my pony, Petra. I could have gone to school here, I like Canada. I don’t think I’d make a good rancher, I’d rather go into something else, but I could have spent my holidays with you and Neil. Didn’t you ask him if we could stay? If you’re scared to, maybe I...’

  ‘No, darling,’ Petra had interrupted quickly, unevenly, ‘I’m afraid it is not convenient for him to have us.’

  ‘I don’t want to go back to London, Petra.’

  ‘I know, but there’s nothing else for it.’

  ‘But—those horrid jobs—those men!’

  ‘David!’ What had he known about them?

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he had mumbled, before her obvious distress, ‘I couldn’t help noticing. I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m not a child, though.’

  ‘Well, you’re supposed to be, you’re only twelve,’ she had said gently, trying rather unsuccessfully to make a little joke out of it. ‘I hope you don’t mind too much,’ she had added helplessly.

  He had gazed at her anxiously then. ‘Doesn’t Neil like you, Petra?’

  ‘Not as much as he likes you, I think.’

  ‘But ...’ Whatever he had been going to say next, the taut expression on Petra’s face must have caused him to change his mind. ‘Don’t worry,’ he had assured her quickly, suddenly squaring his thin shoulders, ‘I’ll look after you.’

  She’d been grateful when he had quietly began to pack and, with a tact beyond his tender years, said nothing more.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  Neither Mrs. Cameron or Janey came to bid them goodbye. Petra didn’t think either of them were up when she and David went out to wait on the porch, so perhaps they had no idea she was leaving. At breakfast she had told Mrs. Allen and seen how the woman had glanced regretfully at David, but she fancied the woman’s kindly look hadn’t included herself. However, she felt so vulnerably sensitive this morning, she might easily have imagined it.

  The car arrived and the driver who brought it was the same young mechanic who had fixed it after her unfortunate accident with the steer. Even now Petra flinched to recall that event, especially when she knew who the tall, mud-coated cowboy had been. It seemed increasingly surprising she hadn’t guessed at the time, but then she wasn’t particularly bright these days!

  She was about to thank the boy as he jumped out of the car when he handed her a package.

  ‘The boss said I was to give you this,’ he mumbled, clearly embarrassed by something he didn’t altogether understand. ‘He said it was something he’d forgotten but that you’d know about it.’

  ‘Yes, I see.’ Driving away, after thanking him briefly, Petra passed the package to David. ‘I expect you’ll find the money there for our return tickets,’ she explained dully. ‘We—’ she had been about to say she wished they didn’t have to accept it but hastily decided against it. It would serve no good purpose to disturb David more than was necessary. He was too pale and very quiet. He looked subdued. When Petra had suggested it he hadn’t wanted to go and tell Jake and the boys he was going. She hadn’t insisted, realising instinctively he was frightened a momentary weakness might betray him. This sudden departure appeared to be affecting him deeply; better leave him alone.

  If he was taking this a lot harder than might have been expected, Petra’s heart sank as she thought of what was to come. The bleakness of another bare room again! David had come to really love living on the ranch. How many times, after he had been out with Neil or Jake and the boys, had he related excitedly all his adventures? Just trailing along the creeks with her had filled him with a lively enthusiasm that had been gratifying to see. Even if he wasn’t inclined to view ranching or farming as a possible career, he enjoyed being here. He was an intelligent boy; given the right sort of start he might have succeeded in anything he set his mind to.

  Now, since leaving the ranch, he looked as if all the enthusiasm had been knocked out of him, and Petra felt directly responsible. If only they could have stayed in the area things might not have seemed so bad. Maybe—her unhappy thoughts whirled distractedly, splintering her consuming numbness—maybe she should have said yes to Oliver’s proposal. Wouldn’t it have given her everything she needed to take proper care of David? But she wasn’t likely to see Oliver again and couldn’t possibly seek him out. Or should she? Would it really matter what Neil would think, Janey either, for that matter? Had either of them considered her? No, that probably wasn’t fair. She had been the interloper, not them. There were Janey’s feelings for Oliver, of course, but this might only amount to infatuation. Hadn’t she gone off and left him all those months? Yet Petra’s shoulders rose in an unconsciously wry shrug as she drove along. She couldn’t possibly, in spite of such a wild flight of fancy, bring herself to call at Oliver’s place, so Janey was quite safe.

  Firmly she put it from her mind, only to find Neil’s callousness of the night before returning to haunt her. But had it really been that? Hadn’t she asked for all she’d got? It had been a terrible gamble, coming here, one which hadn’t paid off. It was as simple as that. All she could do was try and forget it. Perhaps, all considered, she had escaped lightly. If only she had been able to do more for David!

  On the breath of a despairing sigh she heard David saying something about a helicopter.

  ‘We’re being followed, Petra,’ he cried, twisting his rumpled brown head to see better. ‘At least, whoever it is seems to be following the road and keeping a sort of distance.’

  ‘It could be one of the men checking cattle.’ Petra dared not take
her eyes off the track. She didn’t find the dirt road very easy to drive on and was scared of making another mistake like the last. The helicopter could mean a few things. Neil could be making sure they had left, or he might have sent someone to see they got away safely—which could mean much the same thing. Some of the staff had their pilot’s licence and used the helicopter for searching out cattle in the bush, but whoever it was up there he was taking his time and this did not seem the object this morning. Sighing again she decided to ignore it and concentrate on the way ahead, praying it would not be long before she reached the main intersection and she could escape on to the highway.

  She saw the truck coming towards them a few minutes later while it was still some way off. As the ground was so dry it travelled in the usual dust cloud and it wasn’t until it drew nearer that she was startled to see it was Oliver Hurd. Not until then did she remember he had talked of taking them all for a picnic and would like to make an early start. Like Cameron he often used a helicopter, but this morning it had probably been needed elsewhere.

  He was almost on top of Petra before he seemed to realise who it was. She saw his mouth almost drop open in surprise. About to pass with a friendly wave, she was forced to stop as he swerved dangerously, nearly bumping into them. He didn’t attempt to ease his way past but, after another keen glance, to ensure he wasn’t having hallucinations, he switched off his ignition and scrambled down to her.