Call of the Mountain

by Macgregor, Miriam

  `He was a most enterprising man,' Mary told her. `While travelling about Taranaki he noticed large quantities of fungus known as Jew's ear growing on burnt or decaying logs. He discovered it to be edible, and recognised it as being similar to a Chinese plant which was highly prized as a delicacy, as well as being used for medicinal purposes

  Brett cut in, 'Chew Chong offered to buy all that could be collected, so the wives and children went out to gather it. They packed it in flax baskets and took it to Chew Chong who exported it to China. It became known as 'Taranaki wool' because the district was developing as cow country rather than as sheep country.'

  `I was telling the story, Brett,' Mary reproached him wrathfully and in an aggrieved voice.

  `You'd be wiser to think of stories to tell Paul,' he teased. 'Let him see you're not a complete mouse.'

  `But don't take too seriously the stories Paul tells you,' Lisa advised gently.

  Brett sent her a glance through narrowed lids. `What's he likely to tell that she mustn't believe? Something about you, perhaps?' he added softly.

  She ignored his last words. 'He could try to make her believe she's the only girl in the world for him

  `Is that what he told you?' Brett murmured.

  `—but only time will prove whether or not this is true.' She turned impulsively towards the back seat. `Please be warned, Mary.'

  For a moment she feared her words might have upset Mary, but this did not appear to be the case. Instead of wearing a stricken look Mary was smiling, her eyes full of confidence. It was as though she was sure Paul loved her and was merely waiting for the right moment to ask her to marry him.

  Lisa sighed and turned to the front again, then realised the car was running along the last straight towards the built-up area of Hawera where another meeting with Paul was at hand. She told herself she was worrying unduly, and that if she was to complete the editing of Catherine's book she would have to become accustomed to the sight of him. At least she could always escape to the library—or so she hoped.

  Brett parked the car in a side street, then they made their way towards the rugby grounds where they found Paul waiting among the crowd near the gate. He greeted them cheerfully.

  `Hi there—I've bought the tickets, so we can go straight in.' He threw an arm round each of the two girls and planted a kiss first on Lisa and then on Mary.

  Lisa noticed the action was not lost on Brett, whose eyes suddenly narrowed to slits as they stared accusingly at her. Her cheeks flamed as she wrenched herself away from Paul's grip.

  But Mary did not appear to resent Paul's attention towards Lisa, possibly because she felt sure that she herself came first with him. Her face glowed and her eyes shone as she gazed up at the tall fair man. 'Oh, thank you, Paul, that was thoughtful of you,' she said happily, 'but I know Brett will insist on paying for our tickets.'

  `Like hell he will!' Paul declared with much show of generosity. 'Let's go and find seats on the stand.' He tucked Mary's hand beneath his arm, and as they followed the crowd towards the grandstand he also made an attempt to take Lisa's arm.

  She snatched it away angrily. 'Please keep your hands off me!' she muttered as she moved away from him.

  `What's the matter with you?' he demanded peevishly. 'I've taken your arm before today, haven't I?'

  `That's right,' she agreed. 'But the last time you did was definitely the last time. Do you understand?'

  `No, I'm damned if I do. What the devil's wrong with you, Lisa? You used to be so nice to me.'

  `That was before I woke up,' she snapped with some heat. Brett walked beside her as they moved towards the stand. 'Quite a show of indignation,' he remarked with what sounded like forced affability. 'It's for Mary's benefit, I presume.'

  `You may presume as you wish,' Lisa retorted coldly.

  `Relax and enjoy yourself.' His voice held a note of command, then, pointing up into the stand, he said, `Look, there are four empty seats about midway up.'

  To her surprise he took her hand, almost dragging her up the steps between the tiered rows. The firmness of his grip sent tingles racing through her nervous system, making her catch her breath, and as they reached the row with the empty seats there was a pause while his gaze held her own. It was almost as

  though an unspoken message passed between them, but suddenly the spell was broken as he dropped her hand and led her along the row.

  `I trust you won't object to sitting beside me—or would you prefer to sit beside Paul?' he asked sardonically.

  `Don't be stupid!' she snapped, disappointed because his words had extinguished the faint spark that, for one brief moment, had flickered between them.

  Kick-off time came a few minutes later, the crowd cheering lustily as both teams in their different coloured jerseys ran out on to the field. Then came two separate periods of play when the home team did its best to vanquish the visiting fifteen men from another district.

  Excitement ran high as players raced down the field passing the ball from one to the other, with crescendoes of angry criticism being roared at anyone who dared to drop it. Bellows of fury greeted referee decisions that failed to satisfy the crowd, while cheers shook the grandstand as goals were kicked.

  Lisa noticed that Brett's reaction to the game was controlled. She knew he became tense at critical moments when the ball was near the opposition's goal line, but he also applauded their good play.

  In contrast Paul was completely uninhibited, and as his emotions fluctuated between approval or disapproval of the performance on the field he seemed to lose all control. He shouted and yelled with delight when the game pleased him, or fumed like a petulant child when it failed to go the home team's way.

  She glanced at Mary, who was sitting beside her. `Brett and Paul enjoy the game very differently,' she whispered.

  Mary looked blank. 'Oh? Do they? In what way?' `Well, it's easy to see that Brett feels for the other

  side as well as his own side. He appreciates good play on their part. He's a true sportsman.'

  `Are you saying Paul isn't a good sport?' whispered Mary with a flash of indignation.

  Lisa shrugged and said nothing, realising that Mary was so obsessed with Paul she was unable to see him clearly.

  Later, as they were leaving the grounds, Paul was in a good humour after the home team's win. Mary smiled at him and said,

  `You'll come home with us for evening meal, Paul?'

  He sent a quick glance towards Lisa before replying to Mary's invitation. 'Thank you, but I'm afraid not. I have a prior engagement—one that's quite important.'

  `Oh.' Mary's face fell, betraying her disappointment.

  Lisa looked at him steadily. 'Those words have a familiar ring about them, Paul. I seem to have heard them before.'

  He grinned at her. 'You have? I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about.' Then after a hasty glance at his watch, 'I'd better be off—it's later than I thought. No doubt I'll see you sometime next week,' he promised Mary.

  `Can't you come tomorrow?' The brown eyes were pleading.

  He looked at her, almost as though taking pity. `Well, yes, perhaps I'll see you tomorrow.'

  As they watched Paul stride towards his car Brett swung round to face Lisa. 'That was an odd thing for you to say. Why should a prior important engagement sound familiar if, as you claim, you've neither seen nor heard of him for three years?'

  `Because it was—' The words died on her lips as she glanced at Mary's expression, which still reflected disappointment. A wave of sympathy swept her, making her feel that now was not the time to explain that this was the excuse Paul had used on various

  occasions in New Plymouth. It was easy to see that Mary was unhappy, and as Lisa had no desire to heap coals on the embers of her depression she told Brett firmly, `If you don't mind, I'd prefer to leave the subject alone.'

  Little was said on the way home, and although Brett did not press Lisa for further explanation she had a strong feeling he was annoyed with her. So to escape more qu
estioning she made her way to the library as soon as they reached the Lynton homestead. Catherine had finished her letters and was no longer using the room, but even with the book-lined walls to herself she found difficulty in concentrating on the manuscript.

  At last she left the table, opened the French doors and stepped out on to the veranda to gaze at the outlined symmetry of the mountain. The sky beyond it was washed with the deepest pink of evening, while the sun's last rays threw a kaleidoscope of crimson, gold and mauve into the long wisps of clouds drifting from the summit. Sighing, Lisa mused aloud, 'You fascinating great pile, when did you last blow your top?'

  Brett's voice spoke unexpectedly from behind her. `Geologists believe the last eruption occurred almost four hundred years ago.'

  She swung round to face him and was startled by the intensity of the expression in his eyes. Had he come to question her further about Paul? In an effort to keep him from that particular subject she sent her gaze skyward and said, 'The clouds are so beautiful.'

  He crossed the room to stand beside her. 'When they drift eastward it's said he's sending his love back to Pihanga. You know the old legend, I suppose?' Surprisingly, his voice had softened.

  `Of course. One can't live in Taranaki without learning of it sooner or later. According to the ancient Maoris he once stood with the group of mountains

  south of Lake Taupo. Apparently he fell in love with Mount Pihanga, the wife of Mount Tongariro, and there was a mighty battle, until Taranaki was vanquished and fled to where he now stands.'

  Brett nodded. 'That's right. To the early Maoris he was always known as Taranaki until Captain James Cook explored along the coast and renamed him Egmont after England's First Lord of the Admiralty.'

  Lisa pursued the subject which kept them from speaking of Paul. 'I recall being told that during earlier days not a single Maori would live in the direct line between Taranaki and Pihanga.'

  `That was because many of them believed the day would come when he'd uproot himself and return to his loved one, and it was also feared that Pihanga might do the same. They knew that if Pihanga had been a human instead of a mountain she would have gone searching for him. She would have tramped through the dense bush, scrambling up hills and slithering down steep gullies for miles on end to find him.' He paused and there was a brief silence before he added with a slight edge to his voice, 'Today she can do it so much more easily, reaching any part of the country by plane or by car.'

  Lisa caught her breath, then became very still before she said, 'Do I detect a personal attack, Mr Arlington? It's obvious you're determined to believe I came here searching for Paul.'

  `If you want the truth I believe you must have heard he was living near your boss's sister—so, when the opportunity came for you to edit her book here, you snatched at it with both hands.'

  The idea was so far from reality she was unsure whether to laugh it away or to allow him to become aware of the anger that was beginning to bubble within her. At the same time she didn't want to quarrel openly with him because the resulting antagonism might put her into a state of being unable

  to do her work well. At last a forced smile played about her lips as she said, Now I know why you were so determined that I should accompany you to the rugby match—and why you arranged for a foursome.'

  Brett looked at her sharply. 'You do? I'd be interested to know what your imagination declares my reasons to have been.'

  `Not imagination but fact,' she snapped. 'You wanted to watch us together. You were anxious to observe Paul's reactions to me—to say nothing of my reactions to him. It's as simple as that. I'm sorry if you drew a blank despite your carefully laid plan.'

  The cold anger in his face was enough to confirm that her accusation had been correct, while the sudden laugh she was unable to suppress only served to bring the dark brows together in a scowl. For a moment she feared he was about to grab her by the shoulders and give her a good shaking, but he turned on his heel and left the room.

  CHAPTER THREE

  THE abruptness of Brett's departure had a sobering effect that put an end to Lisa's amusement, while the knowledge that she had really angered him disturbed her to the extent of making concentration impossible; therefore, instead of returning to the table she remained at the French doors, staring towards the mountain yet seeing nothing.

  The situation was obvious, she realised. Brett was positive she had come to find Paul, but despite her denial it was plain he had decided she was lying. Nor was it likely he would ever believe her, no matter how much she tried to convince him that such was not the case.

  `Very well, Brett Arlington,' she muttered quietly to herself, 'you can believe as you please. What do I care? Catherine's book is my first priority, and the moment it's finished I'll be away from this place like a homing pigeon.'

  But for some unknown reason she knew she did care—and although she went to sit at the table to make a determined effort to work the words on the pages hardly registered. At last she told herself she was tired after the tensions of the last few hours, and apart from that fact it was Saturday, which was normally a holiday for her.

  The latter thought was enough to make her push the manuscript back into its folder, and after a few restless paces about the room she found herself back at the French doors, where, leaning against the frame, she tried to shrug off the cloak of depression that was beginning to wrap itself about her.

  But a few moments later tension gripped her again

  as sounds from behind indicated that Brett had returned to the room. Determined to keep her back to him, she knew he poked at the logs on the fire, and when he joined her at the open door she still tried to ignore him.

  However, to ignore Brett Arlington was an impossibility as, despite her former intentions, her face was drawn towards him by an invisible magnet. She was then startled to discover his eyes to be slightly narrowed as they rested upon her.

  `Okay, so I did want to observe you and Paul together,' he admitted at last. 'Surely you can understand that my concern is for Mary?' He stared moodily towards the mountain. 'I wish I knew whether she really loves Paul, or whether she's grasping at the chance of a marriage that will keep her in the district and close to Catherine and myself. She's a mouse, and we're her security.'

  `Then it's high time she got out of the district and saw a little of the world for herself,' Lisa snapped crisply. 'Girls who spend their lives in country areas have little chance of meeting desirable men. Can't you see that for yourself? It's my guess that Mary's led an -isolated existence. She might as well be married to old Taranaki himself for all the life she sees—'

  `It would bore you to live here for the rest of your life?' he asked in quiet tones.

  Not at all, as long as it was with a man I love.' `With Paul, for instance?'

  She swung round to face him, fury raising sparks that turned her eyes to blue diamonds as she almost shouted at him, 'No, not with Paul! How can I get it through to you that I did not come here looking for Paul? Granted, we had an affair three years ago—but that also ended three years ago.' Frustration made her want to scream, and it was an effort to keep herself under control.

  `That's the truth?' he demanded quietly.

  `Of course it's the truth. Why can't you believe me?' Lisa's voice shook slightly.

  `Very well, I'll try.'

  `Then let me warn you, if Mary marries Paul she's more than likely to rue the day. I'm amazed to see you encourage the match.'

  `I do so only because he appears to be Mary's choice. To be honest, I hardly know him, because we've little in common, but I don't want to interfere if she's sure her happiness lies with Paul. She considers him to be a decent chap.'

  `According to his own lights he's a very decent chap,' Lisa snapped, then added bitterly, 'But he's unstable. One woman is not enough for him.'

  `That was your experience with him—the cause of the break-up between you?' Brett was watching her closely.

  `Yes—but I don't intend to talk about it.' Sh
e left him abruptly and went to the fireplace, where she stood staring down into the flames, furious with herself for having almost lost her temper.

  The sound of his footsteps told her he had followed her across the room, and although she knew he now stood behind her she did not turn round. Then, startled, she caught her breath as she felt his arms about her as firm movements turned her to face him.

  His finger beneath her chin raised her face while he looked down into her eyes. 'And what about you, Lisa Longmore? Would one man be sufficient for you?'

  `Of course. How dare you suggest otherwise?' Her face flamed as she glared at him, and although she tried to shrug his arms from about her body their grip tightened, sending quivers down her spine and causing her pulses to race.

  `Tell me, what would you ask of that one man?' he demanded.

  Lisa knew her heart was thudding and wondered if he was aware of it. Nevertheless she managed to meet

  his eyes defiantly as she replied, 'No more than the average woman would ask of any man. Love, tenderness, fidelity. Yes, definitely fidelity.'

  In the gloom of the shadowed library his face looked pale against the darkness of his hair, while his eyes appeared to be black except for where they caught a spark of red light from the fire. He lowered his head, and as she gazed up at him in a state of hypnotic immobility his firm mouth came down to find her own in a kiss that was possessive.

  The action sent a shock tingling through her nerves, but even as she told herself to keep her head and resist his embrace her soft lips parted, while she found herself responding to the dangerous teasing of his mouth. Nor was she unaware of the gentle kneading of his strong fingers as they explored the muscles of her back.

  Seemingly of their own volition her arms wound themselves about his neck, while her fingers fondled the crisp dark hair curling above the polo collar of his sweater. The action was enough to admit her response, and his clasp tightened to mould her to the male contours of his body. Then, as his hands glided from the small of her back to press her thighs even close to his own, his kiss became more intense as it sent its message of deeper demands.