The Spotted Plume
By
Yvonne Whittal
Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
THE SPOTTED PLUME
'I can only stand the female of the species in small doses,' the austere Hunter Maynard told Jennifer. That was all right by Jennifer, who after the death of her fiancé wasn't interested in men, least of all one as disagreeable as Hunter; in future her career as a nurse would come first in her life. Or would it?
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First published 1981
Australian copyright 1981
Philippine copyright 1981
This edition 1981
© Yvonne Whittal 1981
ISBN 0 263 73669 5
CHAPTER ONE
Jennifer Casey's step was light but firm as she approached the Matron's office. It had taken her six long months to come to a decision about her future, and she was not going to be persuaded to change her mind, not even by Matron Griffiths whom she admired and respected.
Since Colin Ashton's death in a light aircraft accident, her life had had no meaning, and she had carried out her duties without her usual enthusiasm. She could see him now, his sandy-coloured hair lying in an unruly fashion across his forehead, and his white coat flapping about his legs as he strode through the hospital on his daily rounds. The memory still had the power to hurt with incredible fierceness, and she had to get away, for the simple reason that she could no longer remain where the past continued to haunt her. She had tried to face it in an effort to overcome the pain of her loss, but there were too many things in this hospital to remind her of the happiness they had shared, and the plans they had made for a future together.
The door to Matron's office stood open, but even though she was expected Jennifer knocked.
'Come in, Sister Casey, and close the door behind you.'
Matron Griffiths pushed aside the papers before her to look up at the fair, slim young woman standing tall and erect on the other side of her desk. She had known of Jennifer Casey's engagement to Dr Ashton before his tragic death, and she was aware, too, of the unhappiness which still lurked behind that composed exterior of one of her most competent senior nurses.
'I have received your resignation, Sister Casey,' she said in her quiet but authoritative voice, 'and I must ask you to reconsider.'
Those hazel eyes flecked with gold did not waver. 'I'm sorry, Matron, but I've made my decision.'
'I presume you have given this a great deal of thought?'
'I have, Matron.'
'Have you found yourself a post elsewhere?'
'Not yet,' Jennifer confessed. 'I have a little money saved, and I thought of spending a few weeks with my sister in Johannesburg before deciding on the future.'
Matron Griffiths frowned down at her desk. 'I'm not at all anxious to lose your services, Sister Casey, and I wonder if you would consider the proposition I'm about to put to you.' She drummed her fingers on the desk blotter, a sure Sign that she was troubled. 'My sister, Alice Maynard, injured her hip some weeks ago, but she will be discharged from hospital and allowed to return home only on condition that she acquires the services of a qualified nurse. She lives on a farm in the Oudtshoorn district, which will give you the opportunity to get right away from Cape Town for a while, and, with only one patient to take care of, you will have plenty of time to enjoy the scenery.'
What Matron Griffiths was suggesting sounded tempting, but it would plunge Jennifer's plans into a state of total disarray. 'I—I don't know, Matron. I was—'
'Think it over and give me your answer tomorrow,' Matron interrupted amiably. 'If you agree, then I shall release you within seven days on extended, unpaid leave, and I'm hoping that while you're at Vogelsvlei you might think differently about resigning from here.'
'Vogelsvlei?' Jennifer questioned with some amusement.
'That's Dutch for Bird Valley,' Matron explained unnecessarily. 'My nephew farms there with ostriches, as most farmers do in the Oudtshoorn district, and if you haven't yet been that way, then you might find it extremely interesting and enlightening.' Her glance sharpened as it met Jennifer's. 'May I count on you to give my suggestion your most serious consideration?'
Jennifer hesitated, but only briefly. It could do no harm to consider the post which was being offered to her and, nodding slowly, she said: 'Yes, Matron, I'll consider it.'
'Good!' Matron Griffiths' voice was abrupt as she drew her papers towards her, signifying that their discussion was at an end. 'Come and see me again tomorrow.'
'Very well, Matron.'
In her rented, furnished flat, with its ever changing view of the Indian Ocean, Jennifer spent a restless night trying to decide what to do. She had made up her mind to leave the General Hospital, and possibly Cape Town as well, but she had never given a thought to private nursing, and most certainly not on an ostrich farm, of all places. She was tempted, she could not deny it, but private nursing was a highly specialised job, and one which she was not certain she would be able to cope with.
Matron Griffiths naturally hoped that, after a spell away from Cape Town, she would feel differently about returning to the General, but Jennifer had grave doubts about that. She had spent six months trying to shed her attachment to the shadow that followed her about, but she had been miserably unsuccessful. Colin was there in every corridor, and every ward, and the memory was a painful reminder of what might have been if fate had not stepped in so cruelly.
In Colin she had found the qualities she had searched for in the man with whom she had felt she could spend the rest of her life. He had been kind, gentle, and dedicated, and she had grown to love and respect him for it. Now, at the age of twenty-four, she was preparing herself for a life dedicated to the service of others, for she was certain that no other man could take his place, nor touch her heart again in that special way.
There was no purpose in dwelling on the past; she had to think of the future, and perhaps Matron Griffiths' proposition was worth considering most carefully. A spell of private nursing could not harm her
; it would, in fact, broaden her knowledge to prepare her for the future, whether it be at the General, or at a hospital elsewhere, and with this thought in mind she finally made a decision which was to affect her life in a way she had never dreamed of.
Things moved swiftly after Jennifer had informed Matron Griffiths of her willingness to accept the post she had offered her. She would be released from the General at the end of that week to begin her duties at Vogelsvlei on the following Monday at a salary which surpassed the one she was receiving at the hospital, and that was not something she could baulk at. Matron made all the necessary arrangements, and that left Jennifer with nothing more drastic to do than pay her flat rent a few months in advance, and to prepare herself for her trip to Oudtshoorn.
Jennifer received her final instructions from Matron Griffiths before leaving the General on the Saturday morning. If she left Cape Town early on the Monday morning she should reach Oudtshoorn round about lunch time, Matron calculated roughly, and Jennifer was to report to a Dr Tremayne at the Oudtshoorn hospital. Dr Tremayne, on her arrival, would give her further instructions with regard to the treatment he desired for his patient.
All other arrangements would be made from that end, Matron informed her and, rising from behind her desk, she extended her hand to clasp Jennifer's.
'Give my regards to my sister, and don't be intimidated by my nephew, Hunter. He's become a crusty old bachelor, and he's by nature an abrupt, often rude man, but you can rely on him to give you whatever assistance you may need.'
Jennifer drove away from the hospital with mixed feelings that morning. She was saying a temporary goodbye to a life she had known for some years,' to venture out into a future which was still a mystery. She had no idea whether she was doing the right thing, but it was too late now to alter the course of events.
As Matron had suggested, Jennifer left Cape Town shortly before six o'clock on that cool September morning, and headed her white Fiat eastwards towards ostrich country. It was mid-morning when she stopped for tea at Swellendam, a picturesque town in the Bree Valley at the foot of the Langeberg range, and although she wished she could linger, she drank her tea quickly in order to resume her journey.
She had never travelled this way before, and the countryside enchanted her, most especially when she entered the fertile plain between the Swartberg and the forest-clad Outeniqua mountains. Fruit orchards and green fields of lucerne lay stretched out before her as she approached Oudtshoorn, and she succumbed to the temptation to stop and stare at the long-necked birds grazing in a field alongside the road. The ostrich's walk was ungainly on those two-toed feet which were so often mounted and sold, as curios, but on its body it carried a fortune which had made many a man wealthy during the ostrich-feather boom of the early nineteen-hundreds, and many farmers had gone bankrupt, too, when the market had slumped in 1914.
Oh, well! Jennifer sighed, pushing her fingers through her shoulder-length hair which she had left free of its customary confining knot. This was no time to day-dream of that time when men made instant fortunes to build those homesteads which were today referred to as 'Ostrich Palaces.' Dr Tremayne was awaiting her arrival in the hospital somewhere in Oudtshoorn, and she presumed that, like most doctors, he hated being kept waiting.
She stopped at a filling station in Oudtshoorn to freshen up in the cloakrooms, and after making the necessary enquiries she drove directly to the hospital where Dr Tremayne, a robust man in his fifties, ushered her into a small office to explain the treatment he had prescribed for his patient. 'So far, so good,' Jennifer decided when she discovered that she was not expected to do anything she had not done many times before. Ahead of her was still her meeting with Alice Maynard and her son Hunter, and Jennifer was not at all sure whether this encounter would progress as smoothly as the one with Dr Tremayne.
She was escorted up a flight of stairs and along a passage to a private ward in that wing. The murmur of voices could be heard behind the closed door, but Jennifer could never explain afterwards exactly what her feelings had been at that moment when Dr Tremayne pushed open the door and stood aside for her to precede him into the room.
In a wheelchair beside the bed sat a grey-haired woman with curiosity mirrored in her grey eyes, and a ready smile on her lips, but it was the man leaning against the wall beside the window who drew Jennifer's attention and held it for interminable, heart-stopping seconds.
Jennifer was tall, but this man was considerably taller, with dark hair brushed back severely from a broad forehead. His jaw was square with a hint of iron determination in its structure, and the wide, powerful shoulders tapered down to lean hips and long-limbed muscular legs clad in grey slacks of an expensive linen. It was not, however, his physical appearance that made her feel as if the air was being squeezed systematically from her lungs, but the intense ferocity in those deep blue eyes as they raked her dispassionately from head to foot until she felt stripped of the calmness and confidence which was so much a part of her nature.
'Who the devil is this?' he thundered in a deep voice that not only set her nerves quivering, but stirred up an antagonism which made her stiffen with dislike.
'Allow me to introduce Sister Jennifer Casey,' Dr Tremayne said at once. 'Matron Griffiths assured me telephonically that she's an excellent nurse, and I have no doubt at all that Mrs Maynard will be well taken care of.'
Hunter Maynard pushed himself away from the wall to lessen the distance between them, and the intimidating height and breadth of him made Jennifer wish herself anywhere but there at that moment.
'I was under the impression that my aunt was sending us an elderly nurse,' he announced harshly, transferring his ferocious gaze to Dr Tremayne, but it was Jennifer who replied.
'I'm certain your aunt never once mentioned my age.'
'You're damn right she didn't!' he barked, his incinerating glance sweeping over her once more and reducing her to the level of an incompetent child. 'If she had, you wouldn't be here now, I can assure you!'
'Now, Hunter, don't make such a fuss.' Alice Maynard spoke for the first time, and her voice was pleasantly warm. 'I'm sure Sister Casey must be tired after her long journey, and we still have quite a distance to travel out to the farm.'
An antagonistic silence hovered in the room, then Hunter Maynard drew himself up to his full, imperious height and shot a glowering glance at the man standing beside Jennifer.
'Before we leave here I'd like a private word with you, Dr Tremayne.'
'Certainly, Mr Maynard,' Dr Tremayne said at once, and Jennifer experienced a certain amount of relief when she found herself alone with Mrs Maynard a few moments later.
'Don't pay too much attention to my son, Sister Casey,' she said apologetically with a glimmer of laughter in her eyes. 'He can be rather boorish at times, but his moods seldom last long.'
Jennifer was not concerned with Hunter Maynard's moods at that moment. She was convinced that he was doing his level best to have her taken off the case, and her future was suddenly plunged into a state of uncertainty.
'I'm sorry if I'm not what you expected, Mrs Maynard.'
'Don't be silly, my dear,' Alice Maynard waved aside Jennifer's remark. 'I'm sure we're going to get on very nicely together and, to be quite honest, I'm terribly relieved that my sergeant-major sister hasn't sent a replica of herself. I wouldn't have been able to bear it.'
Amusement lifted the corners of Jennifer's generous mouth. 'Matron Griffiths can be a terror at times, but at heart she's a warm and marvellously understanding person.'
'I know,' Alice Maynard admitted, her grey eyes twinkling mischievously, 'but I'm still very grateful that she had the sense to send someone like yourself.'
Their conversation ended abruptly when the door was wrenched open to admit a thunderous-looking Hunter Maynard, and Jennifer gathered at once from his expression that he had failed in his attempts to have her replaced.
'Are you ready, Mother?' he demanded abruptly.
'I've been ready for ages, as
you very well know,' Alice Maynard announced with a hint of irritation in her voice.
'There's just one thing I'd like to make absolutely clear before we leave here, Sister Casey,' he said, turning on Jennifer to subject her to the full fury of his incredibly blue eyes. 'Your stay at Vogelsvlei will be for the sole purpose of seeing to my mother's needs, and if you had some idea of turning it into a paid holiday, then you might as well go right back where you came from, and now.'
'Hunter!' Alice Maynard's voice held a sharp reprimand.
'Stay out of this, Mother!' he ordered harshly. 'I'm paying her salary, and I demand the right to make a few stipulations.'
There was a brief, angry silence, then Jennifer said with as much dignity as she could muster, 'I understand perfectly, Mr Maynard, but I'm not in the habit of taking a holiday at someone else's expense. I'm here to work, and that's exactly what I shall be doing.'
Those furious eyes raked her up and down once more, then he nodded abruptly, and picked up his mother's suitcase, leaving Jennifer to wheel Mrs Maynard from the ward, and down the passage towards the lift.
It was a silent party of three who emerged from the hospital building some minutes later to cross the parking area towards a dusty four-wheel-drive truck parked close by. With the muscles rippling beneath his white, short-sleeved shirt, he transferred his mother from the wheelchair into the cabin of the truck, and after folding up the chair he lifted it on to the back where he had flung his mother's suitcase moments before.
'Where's your car?' he asked Jennifer abruptly, and when she pointed to it some distance away, he added: 'Follow me, and step on it. I haven't all day.'
Jennifer turned without a word. He was the rudest man she had ever had the misfortune to meet, she decided as she walked quickly to her car and unlocked the door on the driver's side. She had come into contact with many different types of men during the course of her career, but none of them, not even Colin, had ever succeeded in disturbing the surface of her calm in the way Hunter Maynard had done. Matron Griffiths had warned her of his rude, often abrupt manner, but she had somehow never imagined that it would be like this, Jennifer thought and, turning the key in the ignition, she was soon following close behind the dusty truck as it left the hospital grounds.
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