Call of the Mountain

by Macgregor, Miriam

But when they went outside he led her towards the back yard. `Sam's in the front garden,' she pointed out patiently. 'He's not this way.'

  `Ah, but the dogs are this way.' His patience equalled her own. 'Didn't I say I'd have help? I'll

  simply leave it to them. A job like this is right up their alley.'

  Don and Dan leapt for joy when their chains were removed, but trotted quietly at Brett's heels as he and Lisa walked along the drive towards the front garden.

  They found Dreaming Sam at the kowhai tree. His hoofs had trampled the yellow jonquils blooming at the base of the tree, and his horns tore at the bark as he rubbed his head against the trunk.

  The dogs also saw the bull, but stood still, quivering with expectation as they awaited their orders which were not long in coming. Shrill whistles rang on the air and there was a flash of black fur as they raced towards the kowhai tree.

  A sudden skirmish arose as the bull swung round to protect his hindquarters from the onslaught of biting jaws, but despite his roars, lowered head and sharp horns he was unable to cope with the snarling and barking from Don and Dan.

  Bellowing loudly, he whirled round again. There was a loud screeching of strained fence wires as he crashed against the two top strands in an endeavour to escape the razor-sharp teeth snapping at his heels. The fence collapsed, and then, tail in the air, Dreaming Sam galloped across country with the two dogs following in high glee.

  Brett stood watching for a short time before sending further shrill whistles ringing on the air. The two dogs stopped at once, then returned reluctantly, their wet tongues lolling from their mouths.

  Lisa laughed as they paused to gaze longingly in the direction of the disappearing bull, then she followed Brett to the kennels where Don and Dan were again put on their chains.

  `Do you think Sam will come back?' she asked nervously.

  `I doubt it. He's now aware that the dogs are here

  and he's not entirely stupid. In any case, he'll have to go back into the bull paddock.'

  `Why was he allowed out of it?'

  `Because it was short of feed. It needed to be given a rest to allow the grass to grow. I'll admit I've been far too lenient with him, but this time he's really blotted his copybook.'

  The incident of the bull soon faded, and as the days passed life in the Lynton homestead continued on an even keel. At the same time Mountain Memory crept towards becoming a completed manuscript. Brett continued to watch its progress, coming in at times to relax in the fireside armchair while he read a few of the recently typed pages.

  His presence was inclined to disturb Lisa, the main trouble lying in her own wayward thoughts. As her fingers tapped the keys her mind was apt to stray, wafting back to the precious moments when he had held her in his arms. But those unforgettable incidents now seemed to be far away in the past, and Brett's attitude of casual friendliness clearly indicated he had no desire to revive them.

  There were also days when Catherine spent time in the library while making a thorough study of changes that had been made to what she still referred to as her life's work. 'This has been a tremendous lesson to me,' she admitted. 'Such economy of words!'

  `It comes with practice,' Lisa promised her reassuringly. 'After all, this is your first book. You'll do better next time.'

  Catherine sent her a sidelong glance. 'Next time. Ah yes, I've been meaning to talk to you about this next book on the early women—but first let me ask you a question. Have you enjoyed being here, or has it been an irksome bore?'

  `A bore? Certainly not! I've loved it.'

  `You haven't missed the city lights?'

  `Oh no. I'm beginning to suspect I'm a country girl

  at heart.' Lisa looked through the window, her blue eyes holding a wistful expression. 'Or perhaps it's that old mountain magic.'

  Catherine took a deep breath. 'In that case I'll make a suggestion that's been simmering in my mind. What would you say to doing the next book with me?'

  `You mean we'd do it here—at Lynton, together?'

  `Yes. I'll see if I can arrange it with Gordon.'

  Lisa shook her head dubiously. 'I don't think he'd agree to it for one moment. Didn't he say he wanted me back in the office as soon as possible? I'm sure he'll tell you to write it yourself and then send it in for assessment. Besides—' She hesitated, then fell silent.

  `Yes? Besides what?' The hazel eyes had taken on a piercing glint that seemed to bore into Lisa.

  `Besides, I—I rather suspect that Brett thinks it's time I was on my way home,' said Lisa in a low voice. `Nonsense! What gives you that silly idea?'

  `Perhaps it's because he's given no intimation that he'd like me to stay. I'm sure he thinks I've been here for long enough.'

  `Then he's a fool,' Catherine snapped impatiently. `Really, I'd have thought ' She fell silent.

  `Yes? You'd have thought what?' Lisa sat back in her chair and sent Catherine a direct questioning stare.

  `If you must know the truth, my dear, I've been hoping that you and Brett could get together, that you'd make a match of it. I took a fancy to you when we first met in Gordon's office, and as I began to know you better I thought, ah, this is the girl for Brett.'

  Lisa was unable to look at her. 'That's very sweet of you, Catherine,' she murmured.

  `I might as well be honest—it was my prime reason for wanting you to edit the book here at Lynton. I felt sure that if I could get the pair of you together—'

  `But it hasn't worked. I'm afraid Brett looks upon

  me as—as nothing more than a—a younger sister. I can assure you he's not even remotely in love with me.'

  `Then he's a damned fool,' Catherine said with some force. 'He's as blind as a bat—far too blind to see a diamond when it's shoved right under his nose.' She looked at Lisa shrewdly, then appeared to choose her words with care. 'But what about you? Is it possible you could have fallen in love with Brett?'

  Lisa felt her colour rising. It would be useless to lie to Catherine, she decided, so she remained silent.

  `Ah, I thought so,' Catherine said quietly. 'You silence tells me all I need to know. If the answer had been no you'd have told me so quite definitely and without hesitation. In the meantime, my dear, I hope you'll give some serious thought to doing the next book with me.'

  Lisa gave a wan smile. 'It's very tempting, but I'm sure your brother would never agree. He'll tell you I've been away from the office for far too long as it is.'

  `You leave Gordon to me,' said Catherine with determination.

  During her next walk along the road Lisa pondered the proposition, but discarded it almost immediately. Not for one moment could she imagine Gordon Bishop conceding to Catherine's wishes, but apart from that the project would merely prolong her own agony of experiencing Brett's casual attitude towards herself.

  But life had to go on and the time had to come for her to take a firm grip on her own emotions as well as the situation. The day was approaching when she must return to work in the Auckland office. She would have to accept the state of living without the nearness of Brett and of not being able to see him every day, hear his voice or listen for the sound of his step. Her life, she knew, would never be the same again.

  And then she realised she had walked further than

  usual, having been so deep in thought she had passed the place where she normally turned to retrace her steps. Pausing to stare about her, she could see the house she knew belonged to Paul, and even as she stared at it two men emerged and stood talking. One was Paul, while the other was easily recognisable as Brett. They appeared to be on friendly terms as they walked towards Paul's milking shed.

  Lisa turned her back and hurried towards home, because she had no wish for Brett to see her. He might imagine she had been watching his movements, or worse still, coming to visit Paul. However, she was not slow to realise that his association with his neighbour seemed to be amicable, and it was also obvious that he held no animosity towards Paul because of the latter's interest in herself.


  Nevertheless, she was unprepared for the surprise that awaited her that evening.

  CHAPTER TEN

  THE surprise came when they were relaxing after the evening meal. The dishes had been rinsed and stacked into the dishwasher, and a tray bearing a coffee pot and small cups had been carried into the lounge.

  Lisa noticed that Brett was thoughtfully silent as he sipped his coffee. She was vitally conscious of his presence, and from the corner of her eye she saw him put his cup on the small table beside him, unfold his long legs and cross the room to the low wood cupboard set beside the fireplace.

  She watched as he bent to place several short pine logs on the flames, but was unprepared for what almost amounted to an attack when he turned to face her. Standing with his back to the blaze, he looked at her accusingly, yet when he spoke his voice was deceptively casual.

  `I saw you on the road today. Do you always walk as far as the entrance to Paul's drive?'

  She shook her head. 'It's the first time I've been near it. Does it matter how far I walk?' So he had seen her.

  `Not at all. Did you intend making a visit, then changed your mind when you saw us in the field?'

  `Certainly not! Your imagination is running away with you. I'll admit I walked further than usual today, but that was because the constant rain has prevented my normal short walks!'

  Catherine spoke to Brett. 'Are you saying you were with Paul? I'm glad Mary's episode with him hasn't made you enemies. I don't like quarrels between neighbours.'

  Brett gave a short laugh. 'It won't make much

  difference as far as Paul is concerned. He won't be here, because he's sold his farm.'

  Catherine's jaw dropped slightly. 'Sold his farm? I wonder who's bought it?'

  `There's no need to wonder. I've bought it,' announced Brett as though it was the most natural thing to have done.

  Catherine put her coffee cup down with care, then sat erect in her chair. 'You? Did you say you've bought Paul's farm?'

  `Your hearing is as good as ever, Cathy dear.'

  She digested the information in silence, then added, `You'll keep on his share-milker?'

  `Of course. He'll be made a manager and put on a higher salary.'

  `I must say I'm surprised,' said Catherine in a bemused tone. 'I can't understand why Paul should want to sell his farm.'

  `I think the answer lies in his desire to live on Auckland's North Shore,' Brett replied, with an edge to his voice and his eyes on Lisa's face. 'He's also wise enough to know he can't live so far away from such a valuable asset and still keep his eye on it. No doubt he'll invest his money elsewhere.'

  `He's a fool,' Catherine snapped. 'His money is safer invested in land.' She turned to Lisa. 'What do you think?'

  Lisa shook her head vaguely, lost for words. Secretly she was appalled by this turn of events which seemed to give a permanence to Paul's move to the North Shore, but fortunately there was no need to find an answer, because Catherine wanted more details.

  `How did it happen so quickly?' the latter demanded. `These land sales usually take ages, what with valuations and so forth—'

  `Naturally a valuation was made,' Brett assured her easily. 'However, Paul wanted the sale completed as rapidly as possible so that he could get himself settled

  in Auckland. He appears to have a reason for wanting to be there quite soon.' His eyes held a cool glint as they rested on Lisa.

  She controlled the angry words that rose to her lips and listened as Brett continued to give further information.

  `He told me the price he was asking and I said I'd give it to him. Of course it included the stock. The papers have already been signed in the solicitor's office.'

  Lisa felt slightly stunned. Even her limited knowledge told her that a dairy farm plus a pedigree herd must have cost the earth. She also knew that Brett was watching for her reaction to the news, and only with an effort did she manage to say casually, `Now I know why you were so sure the next owner of Paul's property would alter the milking shed to a circular revolving unit.'

  Little was said during the remainder of the evening. The television offered entertainment which hardly registered in Lisa's mind as she fought her steadily growing dejection. She peeped at Catherine and noticed that she frowned as she watched the programme, while Brett's face appeared to be expressionless. No doubt he was mentally planning further changes to his new property.

  He seemed to have made it so easy for Paul to wind up his affairs in this district and to make his move to Auckland, she thought bitterly. He knew that Paul had amorous intentions towards herself, yet it almost seemed as though she was being handed to him on a dish! An irritating prickle of tears made her blink rapidly, and within a short time she made her excuses and went to bed where she wept into the pillow.

  After that evening the days seemed to flit past with a speed that was frightening. Lisa threw herself into completing the manuscript while Catherine continued

  to read and approve its new form. Photographs which had been stored in a large flat box were now brought out and examined for inclusion, their captions and places in the manuscript also being attended to.

  `What about the index?' asked Catherine, as though grasping at a straw that could possibly keep Lisa at Lynton for a few more days.

  `Your brother employs a girl who does all our index work,' Lisa explained. 'He won't expect me to stay here to do it.'

  `I'll hate to see you leave here,' Catherine almost wailed. 'I could bang Brett's head against the wall.'

  `Why?' Brett's voice rasped from the doorway. `What have I done to bring on this state of rage?'

  Catherine spun round and glared at him. 'It's what you haven't done that riles me!' Her face slightly flushed, she swept past him and left the room.

  `What's all this about?' he snapped at Lisa.

  `How would I know?' she retorted, brushing the question aside.

  `From the little I heard it appeared to have something to do with your leaving this place.'

  `Which will take place during the next couple of days,' Lisa informed him coolly. 'I shall type a list of the photographs, and then I'll pack my bags.'

  `And hurry home to Paul,' Brett added calmly.

  Her eyes were shadowed as she looked at him steadily. 'I have a strong feeling you'd like to see me do just that,' she said.

  `You don't appear to understand that I want to know the best is happening for you, Lisa.' His low voice held sincerity.

  With equal sincerity she said, 'If Catherine bangs your head against the wall I hope I'm there to help her.'

  He looked at her in silence for several moments before he said, 'In some way I seem to be doing the wrong thing. Doesn't it occur to you that, deep down, you might still love Paul? You told me you expected to

  get engaged, so I consider you should be given the opportunity to make sure of your true feelings towards him. You'll be able to do that.'

  She gave a sigh of utter weariness that was born of frustration. 'I did that a long time ago, Brett.'

  `But don't you see, Lisa? I want you to be sure—absolutely sure.'

  She looked at him sadly. 'I'm afraid there's nothing more to be said, Brett.' Turning away from him, she rolled a blank sheet into the typewriter, then began tapping out a list of the photographs that would illustrate Catherine's book. Nor did she look at him again, although she knew when he left the room.

  She worked frantically for the rest of the day, her mind delierately shutting out the image of Brett. By evening the editing of Mountain Memory was complete, with the chapters and photographs neatly packed into a small case.

  As she closed the lid a slight lump rose to Lisa's throat, not because the work on the manuscript was finished, but because her days at Lynton were now at an end. She left the library hastily and went to drag her own suitcase from the boxroom, and as she carried it through the hall she met Brett.

  His dark brows arched as he regarded the case. `Does this mean you've actually finished?'

&
nbsp; She nodded. 'The list of photos took less time than I expected.'

  `Then you're packing up to leave?'

  `Yes. Catherine will be driving me to New Plymouth tomorrow, and I'll catch a plane from there to Auckland.' Then, fearing that her inner emotions could be revealed, she hurried towards her bedroom.

  But next morning it wasn't Catherine's car that waited at the back door; it was Brett's silver-grey Holden. He was dressed in well-cut clothes for town, and as he put her cases in the boot he said, 'I've decided to make sure you catch the plane.'

  The words were accompanied by a smile and spoken jokingly, nevertheless they came as tiny stab wounds. However, she managed to send him a level glance and to say evenly, 'Don't worry, I'll be on it. I had no idea you were so anxious to be rid of me.'

  He gripped her shoulders, stared into her face and gave her a slight shaking. 'You really believe that?'

  Lisa returned his stare defiantly. 'You've made it clear enough.'

  His hands left her shoulders to put cases for Catherine and himself beside her own.

  Looking at them, she said, 'You'll be staying in New Plymouth?'

  `Yes, for a couple of days. Catherine intends to spend time at the public library and I have a couple of men to interview. I'll need extra staff for the new place. They both live just out of New Plymouth, so I'll see them tomorrow.'

  She was surprised. 'Why don't they come to you to be interviewed?'

  `Because I want to meet their wives and observe the state of their present homes.'

  `My goodness, you're very thorough!' she commented.

  `Is that something you're only just learning?' drawled Brett.

  Rain poured during the drive to New Plymouth, soaking the already drenched countryside. Visibility was poor, and as she sat in the back seat of the Holden Lisa gazed to where the mountain stood completely hidden by a blanket of dense clouds. The thoughts running through her head were anything but happy.

  You should be ashamed of yourself, Taranaki, she chided silently. You called me here, and I'll bet it was you who made me fall in love—and now that I'm leaving you haven't the grace to show your face, you rotten great heap!