Lisa looked at him doubtfully. 'I know you're laughing at me. You probably think I'm an idiot.'
`Not at all,' he assured her gravely. 'The bush has an atmosphere that's entirely its own. It has the power to affect people until they become accustomed to it.'
She stood still, her eyes raised to the lofty limbs that met and entwined above their heads. 'It's like being in a cathedral.'
`Yes.' He held out his hand.
She grasped it gratefully, the firmness of his grip filling her with a feeling of security that swept away her previous intangible fears. And as she became aware of his quiet strength she also knew that here was a man who, once his word had been given, would prove to be steadfast.
A more peaceful frame of mind descended upon her as they walked along the path which continued to wind upward and became narrow as it rose towards the higher levels. In several places it fell away on one side, and these dangerous areas were recorded by Brett, who jotted their positions in a notebook.
There were also times when it was so steep and slippery it became necessary for him to literally drag her up the difficult slopes, and after one hazardous stretch she became so winded she leaned against a nearby tree to regain her breath.
`Is it too much for you?' he asked quietly, yet amused.
`Of course not,' she gasped crossly. 'It's just that—that I'm not used to it -'
`Are your legs aching?' There was the hint of a laugh in his voice.
`Not at all,' she lied, annoyed to be displaying the fact that she was unfit, while he himself gave hardly
a puff of breathlessness. `I'm sorry if I'm delaying you.'
He smiled. 'Don't let it concern you. I can see you're struggling gamely.' He dragged a long trailing strand of soft green moss from a low branch, then twisted it into a wreath which he placed on her head. `For such valiant effort you'll be crowned princess of the bush.'
Her gay laugh rang on the stillness. 'Oh, thank you—I'll have to do something about finding a prince ' She stopped, appalled by her own words, then found herself unable to meet his eyes.
`You haven't found him yet?' he asked slyly.
`No!' The denial came abruptly because she suspected he had Paul in mind. The thought made her want to snatch the wreath from her head, but to do so would ruin the fragile friendship that was stretching between them like a tender vine.
Brett regarded her anxiously. 'Would you prefer to go back? I can come alone another day.'
She shook her head, knowing she longed to be with him.
As they continued along the ever-ascending path he told her a little about the numerous tracks and routes on the mountain, then explained, 'A route is one that's newly-cut and is not to be travelled alone by inexperienced people.'
`You mean by people like me,' she said ruefully. `People who slip and slide and who can't keep their footing while climbing over an ordinary stile?'
`It's all right so long as they have someone nearby to catch them,' he added pointedly.
Lisa caught her breath, realising that he recalled how closely he had held her—and then his next words brought further irritation.
`I suppose Paul took you up to the North Egmont Chalet or to the Stratford Mountain House?'
Frustrated, she almost stamped her foot. 'No, he did not!'
`Okay, there's no need to get mad. One day we'll take a trip up to the Dawson Falls Tourist Lodge. It'll take you higher than we are now, which is about two thousand feet.' He fell silent as he stared up into the branches. 'Look, a native pigeon and its mate. They'll be searching for berries.'
Her eyes followed his pointing finger to where the two plump birds sat, a shaft of sunlight catching their multi-coloured metallic backs and wings, their snowy-white breasts and abdomens. 'Do you see them?' Brett whispered in her ear, his hand on her shoulder, his lips almost brushing her cheek.
`They're beautiful,' she breathed, doing her utmost to remain calm and to ignore his disturbing nearness. But even as she spoke there was a sudden whoosh of wings and the birds disappeared into the higher branches of the trees.
They continued to push upward until they reached a point where the path ended by being crossed by a wider and more substantial track. Brett guided her towards the left, and within a short time they came to a bench seat. She sank on to it thankfully, then watched while he took the thermos and two packs of sandwiches from the canvas shoulderbag.
Behind them a hill covered with shining mountain flax rose so steeply it formed an almost perpendicular wall, while before them the ground sloped down to a mossy hollow which had the large trunk of a tree lying across its shallow basin.
The sight of it sent a feeling of sadness through Lisa. 'It's a fallen giant,' she said. 'It took so many years to grow, yet it fell so quickly. The surrounding undergrowth and overhead foliage appear to be sheltering it.'
Brett said, 'Forget the tree and drink this.' He handed her a mug of steaming coffee.
She sipped it gratefully. 'Thank you. I don't know when I've walked uphill for such a long distance. My
legs are feeling weak and shaky.' She hadn't meant to admit this last fact.
`You'll find it easier going downhill. People who live near the mountain become used to it,' he added casually.
She laughed. 'What makes you imagine I'll be here long enough to do that?'
He remained silent, staring moodily ahead of him.
Lisa relaxed, savouring the inexplicable pleasure of sitting beside him, then, biting into a sandwich made of cold meat and tomato relish, she remarked, 'This relish is very tasty.'
`Yes, it's one of Catherine's specialities. She's very capable and she's been a damned good stepmother to us, even to the extent of doing her best to get Mary off the shelf.'
`I presume you mean with Paul?'
`Yes. She's a real manipulator. She met him at his uncle's funeral, and it didn't take long for her to recognise that here was an eligible bachelor who'd be living next door. She invited him in for meals, no doubt hoping to line him up with Mary.'
`Do you mean she was deliberately—matchmaking?' queried Lisa.
`A more blatant example of matchmaking I've yet to see.'
Lisa rose to Catherine's defence. 'I can understand her wishing to see Mary happily married.' There was a momentary silence until a mischievous imp forced her to add, 'And I would also expect her to have your happiness at heart. No doubt she considers it high time you were settled down and married.'
Brett shrugged, then his voice became hard. 'It's possible—but if so she can forget it. She may consider herself to be President of the Manipulating Society, but she needn't imagine she can put her tactics to work where I'm concerned.'
Lisa turned to look at him. 'She's—she's already tried?'
Brett's mouth became grim. Not yet, but I can assure you that any girl brought into my house with a view to matrimony will get short shrift. She'll be tossed out on her neck—and right smartly at that!'
CHAPTER FOUR
THE icy tone of Brett's words cut into her mind like a blast from the Arctic. And as she watched the handsome profile from the corner of her eye she saw that his dark brows were drawn into a scowl while his mouth remained twisted in a grim line.
Did Catherine really believe he could be manipulated into marriage? she wondered. The idea was ludicrous, because here was a man with a mind of his own. Once it was made up it would remain that way until he changed it of his own accord.
In this respect he was completely unlike Paul, who found much difficulty in settling down to one project or person for any length of time. He reminded Lisa of a buck rabbit that ran all over the field, first with one doe and then another, and she was thankful she had learnt this fact in time.
Choosing her words carefully, she said, 'It's obvious that Mary likes Paul very much, but is she really in love with him?'
`It's impossible to say. Whatever the case you'll recall that I've indicated that I don't want to see her hurt. Would it upset you if Paul and Mary became engag
ed?' The abrupt question matched the coolness of the glance he swept over her.
She ignored the continued iciness in his manner as she forced herself to give a light laugh. 'It would concern me, but not for the reason you imagine.'
`Perhaps you could be a little more explicit,' he invited.
`Definitely not. It's something you'll just have to find out for yourself, as no doubt you will when the time comes. Do you mind if we change the subject? It's beginning to bore me.'
`Okay. What would you prefer to talk about?'
She raked in her mind for a suitable topic, then decided to talk in terms of his own interests. 'Tell me about your Search and Rescue work. I've heard so little about it.'
`Are you sure you'd be interested?' he demanded dryly.
`Would I ask if I were not?'
He appeared to be slightly gratified, because the coldness left his voice as he said, 'You probably know that in New Zealand the Search and Rescue Organisation operates to save life. It's mainly concerned with missing aircraft or ships in distress, while our section of it is involved with people who are injured or lost in the mountains or bush country.'
`Have there been many deaths on Mount Egmont?' she asked.
`Far too many. It's a deceptive mountain because it looks so easy. People can reach the base of it without any trouble, and many who are ill-equipped and lack experience are tempted to try an ascent. They become involved in difficulties within an hour or so of leaving their cars.'
`What sort of difficulties?' Lisa felt compelled to ask.
`Oh, they tumble over precipices, get lost on side tracks, or fall into holes where the earth has been washed away by springs. There are also swamps to be avoided.' Warming to his subject, he went on to tell her about the dangers of climbing alone, and to list the rules learnt by all who go tramping on the mountain. Then he ended by saying, 'Most of the accidents on Egmont have been caused by idiots who disregarded these rules.' He glanced at his watch. 'Well, if your legs are okay, it's time we were getting back.'
`Of course they're okay. Do you think I'm a poor weak fool?' she asked indignantly as she began packing the thermos and mugs into the bag.
`It remains to be seen.' He sent her one of his rare smiles, then stood up and crossed the path to stare more intently at the fallen tree lying across the hollow below them. 'Shades of Chew Chong!' he exclaimed. `Some of his precious Jew's ear is growing on the trunk of that dead tree!'
`Oh ?' Lisa moved to stand beside him and peer
downwards.
`Do you see that brown curly fungus growing in rows along the lower curve on the trunk? That's the famous "Taranaki wool" gathered by the settlers of earlier days.'
Staring down at the trunk, she exclaimed eagerly, `I'd like to take a closer look at it.'
Brett chuckled. 'You intend to slide down on your seat? It's much steeper than you realise.'
`I can see it's steep—and I shall not slide,' she told him loftily as she looked from left to right, examining access to the fallen tree. 'See, there's an easier grade farther along. I'm sure I can reach it without any trouble.'
He looked down at her rubber boots. 'I don't advise it,' he drawled. 'Trouble could lurk down there.'
`I must have a closer look at that Jew's ear,' she persisted. 'What's more, I intend to gather some.'
`Don't say you haven't been warned,' he remarked casually. 'Jew's ear grows best in swampy areas.'
`That ground looks quite firm to me,' she said with a quiet determination. At least she'd show him she wasn't going to be bossed. At least—not all the time.
She left his side and walked along the track to where it dropped until it was almost level with the fallen trunk. Then she pushed her way back through the thick scrubby mass of undergrowth until she came out into the clearer area near the tree. She knew that he stood watching her progress from the track above, and she also knew he was grinning broadly.
`Is my wish to examine the fungus so very funny?' she demanded.
`Not at all. Keep going.' There was the suspicion of a laugh behind his words, almost as though he expected something to happen.
It did within the next few moments. Lisa moved forward again, but had taken only a few steps when she stopped with a small gasp as her feet began to sink. There was a wet slosh as she lifted first one foot and then the other, hastily attempting to step backward and almost losing her balance.
`Let me know when it's over your knees,' Brett called mockingly.
She sent him an angry accusing glare. 'You knew there was a swamp here—you knew it'd be like this!'
`I didn't—but I guessed. I told you Jew's ear grows in swampy patches, and I advised you against going near the place,' he reminded her smugly. 'Some people won't take advice—they just have to learn the hard way.'
She took a few more steps, then shrieked in terror. `I can't find the firm ground that got me here—I keep sinking—help!'
She looked up pleadingly, but to her horror he had disappeared. Panic gripped her as she wondered if he was so annoyed he had left her to struggle out of her own predicament. How could he? she thought hysterically-how could he?
`Brett!' she yelled, her fear-filled voice echoing on the still air. 'Brett, come back!'
`I'm coming.' His voice spoke from behind as he began to push his way through the undergrowth. 'I'll make sure of firm footing.'
She knew he leaned forward and that his arms dragged her from the dangerous area that slowly sucked at her boots. She felt herself being lifted and carried from the spot, then she was set down in the midst of the leafy undergrowth. But instead of his arms leaving her body they held her against his muscular length.
His voice came from above her head. 'Well, are you satisfied?'
She nodded without speaking as she leaned against him, overwhelmed by relief yet feeling idiotic.
`And you really thought I'd leave you?' The words lashed at her.
`I—I really didn't know. I can understand that you're mad with me, and I suppose you think I'm completely stupid—' Shivers ran through her body as several other suppositions swept into her mind. Suppose she'd come to this place alone? Suppose Brett hadn't been near to lift her out of that ghastly place where she might have sunk further and further into the swamp?
The thought made her cling to him with a compulsive movement, but suddenly she became aware that his hands had moved to her shoulders and that he was staring down into her face.
Shaking her, he gritted furiously, Now do you understand how dangerous it can be when inexperienced fools break the rules? Never leave the main track to explore alone!'
She stared up at him dumbly, while an unexpected rush of tears filled her eyes, but before she could brush them away his arms were again holding her close to him. He lowered his head and kissed her fiercely, almost as though to punish her and to give vent to his own anger.
The spasm of rage passed as quickly as it had begun. He looked at her without speaking for several moments, then, slowly and gently, he again lowered his head. His mouth drew near to her own, and as their lips met her arms crept about his neck.
Emotions within her were shocked to wakefulness, spinning her blood into whirlpools as his hard mouth became more and more possessive. Her lips parted as she responded with a sudden wild ecstasy that was beyond her power to control.
As his kiss deepened she felt his hands find their way beneath her jacket to encircle her waist, then briefly cup her breasts before moving to slide down her spine. She knew they had spread themselves over her hips, and as they crushed her against him with sensual intimacy she became aware of the naked desire coursing through her veins.
At last his lips left her mouth to trail along her jaw and nuzzle a throbbing pulse in her neck; then, returning to her lips again, his kiss became devouring, while she gave herself up to the rapture of its bliss.
A deep sigh seemed to shake him as he murmured huskily, 'Lisa, you don't know what you do to me—can you hear me calling?'
She nodded
, feeling too emotionally full to speak. `I could make the world stand still for you,' he whispered.
She nodded again, knowing that during the last few moments of those searing kisses the world had indeed stood still.
`A swamp is not the best place for making love.' His voice was low and intense.
Lisa gave a small shaky laugh, having difficulty in finding an answer to this blunt statement. 'I'm afraid I—I know little or nothing about making love,' she admitted shyly as she hid her face against his neck.
`Didn't Paul teach you to make love?' he demanded, the iron in his voice making it sound harsh.
She was startled. 'Paul? Never! If you must know the truth, I've never made love with any man.'
`From the response in your kisses, that's hard to believe.'
His words shocked her, dampening her ardour more effectively than a blast of sleet in her face, and she began to recall the last time he had kissed her. On that occasion she had wondered if his passionate embrace had been sincere, or had he intended it to be a means
of diverting her interest away from Paul. So was this also merely an act on Mary's behalf?
The suspicion made her feel ill, causing her to quiver slightly as she pushed against his chest to avoid further close contact.
Brett released her at once. 'You're trembling,' he accused. 'Is it rage, or are you afraid of me?'
She looked up into the penetrating dark eyes, then shook her head. 'No, it is not rage, nor is it fear of you that bothers me. Perhaps distrust would be a better word.'
`Distrust?' The black brows drew together. 'You—distrust me? Well, I'll be damned! Would you mind explaining that remark?' His voice betrayed both surprise and anger.
Lisa leaned against him in silence, unable to utter the words that would expose her thoughts; nor did she wish to go into the details of her suspicions concerning his reasons for kissing her with such intensity. To do so would be to openly accuse him of blatant insincerity.
A short silence followed while she pondered the extent of his anger, and even as she did so he gripped her arms, his fingers biting with strength through her jacket. 'I could give you a damned good shaking, Lisa Longmore,' he gritted. 'I demand that you explain yourself!'
Call of the Mountain Page 6