Riding the Storm

by Heather Graves

  ‘Then she can show me hers, too,’ Mike said, making sure nobody missed his heavy-handed double meaning.

  ‘Have – er—’ Ryan thought he might as well get the awkward moment out of the way. ‘Have you heard from your father lately?’

  ‘Went back home during the last break from college. Wasn’t looking forward to it with Fiona ruling the roost – but guess what? Ding, dong, the witch is dead!’

  ‘Fiona’s dead?’

  ‘No, silly – nothing quite so dramatic but she’s gone, anyway. And from what Pa tells me you had a hand in that.’

  ‘What did he say? We had a bit of a disagreement – about the way Fiona was handling Mum’s little dog. You might as well know, she made me so mad, I lost my temper and knocked her down. Then your father came to her defence and threw a punch at me, too. We left shortly after that. So I’m not sure how he feels about me now.’

  ‘You did him a good turn. Seems that after you left, the argument escalated. Fiona wanted my dad to set the lawyers on you and he wouldn’t play. Said you’d suffered enough already and he was sorry he knocked you down as you didn’t deserve it. Fiona took off in a huff and went to her sister in Sydney. There, apparently, she remains, waiting for Dad to apologize and reclaim her. Reckon she’ll have a long wait.’

  ‘Well, I’m pleased to hear he’s out of her clutches and bears no ill will towards me. I always liked your father.’

  ‘Oh, and before I forget, he sent you this letter. Not sure what it’s about but he’s in with some developers, rebuilding the township. Maybe they want to buy your land – you can’t really say there’s a house on it now.’

  Ryan frowned. ‘It was my home and I grew up there. I don’t really want to think about selling. Not yet.’

  ‘Why not? It’s going to rack and ruin while you wait. The tropical climate isn’t kind to shanties with the roof caved in.’

  ‘It isn’t a shanty.’

  ‘It is now. Ryan, you’re building a new life for yourself down here so why would you want to go back? Let it go and you might have enough to afford a small place down here.’

  ‘I’ve no use for a small place – I want to have my own stables one day.’

  ‘Sure. But maybe you’ll have to walk before you can run.’

  ‘I hate that expression – what does it mean, anyway? Did Glen send you here to persuade me?’

  ‘No! God, no, I wouldn’t do that. I’m just the messenger – you’ll do as you think best.’

  Ryan held out his hand for Glen’s letter, unsure whether to open it in front of the others or not.

  ‘Come on, then,’ Mike said. ‘What does he say? Don’t keep us in suspense.’ He wasn’t about to let Ryan read it in private.

  The envelope contained just one sheet of paper and Ryan was pleased to see it didn’t come from a computer but was written in Glen’s generous, rounded hand.

  Dear Ryan,

  I do hope you’ve been able to settle with your family in Melbourne. I was so sorry to hear of your uncle’s accident and hope he is on the road to recovery. I write to ask if you have any plans for that little place of yours up here?

  (Not that little – Ryan thought – there was the new stable block and enough land for a market garden. Why was everyone so anxious to make him think small?)

  If things are going well for you in Melbourne, I can’t see you returning to Canesville any time soon. Gradually, we are rising from the disaster and a lot of rebuilding is taking place. Mike will tell you that my colleagues and I are heavily involved. If you do wish to sell, we will make you a generous offer (for old times’ sake if nothing else). But you will need to act promptly before there’s any more water damage to get the best possible price.

  Kind thoughts and very best wishes,

  Glen Harrison

  Ryan folded the letter and put it in the top pocket of his shirt.

  ‘Come on!’ Mike was impatient. ‘I did take the trouble to bring it in person. What does Pa have to say?’

  ‘Not much. Just that he wants to buy the farm. I’ll need to think about that.’

  ‘What for?’

  ‘Leave him alone, Michael,’ Chrissie said softly. ‘Ryan has a mind of his own and doesn’t take kindly to being pushed.’ She was thinking of her father and his unreasonable dislike of her cousin.

  Ryan shot her a grateful smile.

  Mike glanced at his watch. ‘It’s getting late and I must be going. Things to do. People to see.’

  ‘Won’t you stay for dinner?’ Chrissie said, standing up. ‘Mum will be sorry to miss you—’

  ‘Not this time, sweet thing,’ he said, setting Ryan’s teeth on edge. ‘But I have your number—’ patting the mobile phone in his pocket and standing up. ‘And I’ll be in touch.’

  ‘Will you have time?’ Ryan said sharply, hoping to throw a spanner in the works. ‘I thought your exams were coming up soon.’

  ‘Nothing serious.’ Mike grinned, realizing what his friend was up to. ‘Not till the end of the year.’

  ‘I’ll see you out,’ Ryan said, shepherding him out of the kitchen and walking him briskly towards his car.

  ‘What’s got into you?’ Mike said. ‘You’re not yourself at all. Like a different person down here.’

  ‘Well, for starters my uncle hates me – I feel as if I’m walking on eggshells here.’

  ‘All the more reason to sell to my dad and get a place of your own.’

  ‘I’m not ready for that yet. And besides, I can’t leave Tommy. He needs me here.’

  Mike rolled his eyes. ‘It’s just a horse, Ryan. A dumb animal doesn’t care who looks after it, long as it’s fed—’

  Ryan shook his head; it was useless to protest: Mike didn’t feel the same about animals and would never see his point of view. ‘And please, Mike, do me a favour and leave Chrissie alone. She’s just come out of a bad long-term relationship and—’

  ‘That’s good news, then. She’ll be ripe for a new one on the rebound – with me.’

  ‘For the sake of our friendship – please, Mike – lay off. Do this one thing for me.’

  Mike laughed. ‘Oh, now I get it. I know that look. You’ve got the hots for the lovely Chrissie yourself. And you don’t like to think of me getting a piece of her before you do. Your own cousin.’ He tutted annoyingly, wagging his finger. ‘Naughty boy.’

  ‘Trust you to drag everything down to your own filthy level,’ Ryan said, really angry now.

  ‘Steady on. Only joking. Didn’t mean anything by it.’

  ‘It’s just that Chrissie’s one of the best and I don’t want to see you hurt her, that’s all.’

  ‘Garn – she knows where it’s at. She’s older than we are.’

  ‘I’m just saying.’

  ‘Well, don’t. She’s a lawyer, isn’t she? I dare say she knows how to look after herself.’ Mike swung into his vehicle – a two-seater sports car of some kind, in pristine condition and smelling of leather, fresh from a showroom. ‘And don’t forget to think about selling that land. My old man doesn’t like to be kept dangling for long.’

  Chrissie was thoughtful after Mike had left. She was no stranger to his type and had not been so taken with him as Ryan thought. She found his brash self-confidence totally unappealing. Even so, she decided she would go out with him if he called. Having had time to reflect, she realized she had misjudged her cousin; he really was falling in love with her. But, although her own heart was breaking over it, Ryan must see there was no future for them and the easiest way to stifle his affection was to form a temporary relationship with his friend.

  She didn’t have to wait for long. A day or so later, Mike called, and he arranged to meet her on Saturday evening at Parliament Station in town. She felt mean about it, but she made sure Ryan knew she was making this date and got him to drop her off at the nearest train station. She saw the hurt in his eyes but resolved not to weaken. If he suffered a little pain now, eventually it would be for his own good.

  Mike greeted her wi
th a wet and lingering kiss on the lips that she found rather disgusting, although she tried not to show it. She realized, with a jolt of surprise, that there was no chemistry between them at all. Certainly not on her side. His kiss didn’t make her heart thump in her chest as it had when she kissed Ryan. But no! She really mustn’t let herself think about him. Mike was supposed to be her cure.

  He had made a booking at a new restaurant in the centre of the city on the fringes of Chinatown.

  ‘I do hope you like Chinese?’ he said, which was rather too late as they were already seated and looking through elaborate, tasselled menus. ‘I suppose I should have asked.’

  ‘No, I love it,’ she said. ‘But in a conservative way. I like prawn crackers, sweet and sour prawns and vegetarian fried rice but I’m not too keen on pork or dishes with too much hot chilli.’

  The waiter seemed to know Mike and greeted him like an old friend and when the food arrived, Chrissie started to enjoy herself. She had been feeling more than a little guilty for using Mike to put Ryan off. Right now he was fishing to find out what was going on in her life.

  ‘I hear you’re a lawyer,’ he said, ‘but not working at present?’

  Concisely, she told him the story of the ‘almost honeymoon’ that nearly took place in Europe and how it had resulted in her getting the sack. She avoided telling him about Tony’s death.

  ‘But I can’t be sorry,’ she said at the end of it. ‘That firm has a reputation for using people and spitting them out. In hindsight, I’d have left sooner or later, anyway.’

  ‘So what now? Are you trying to get another job?’

  ‘No. Because the old firm bad-mouthed me all over town. My mother’s uncle, who’s also a lawyer, tells me it’s best to lie low till the fuss dies down. Going to tribunal will only get me a reputation as a troublemaker.’

  ‘But that’s not fair. Those people shouldn’t be able to ruin a person’s life in that way.’

  ‘Ho, no? They have a lot of influence in Melbourne – Sydney too. They can do whatever they like. I just have to wait until they have someone else in their sights. Then I can slip under the radar.’

  ‘And on the personal side you don’t have a significant other right now?’

  ‘No.’ She frowned at this line of questioning, wondering just how much he’d been told. ‘And I’m not at all sure I want one.’

  ‘Go on. A lovely girl like you?’

  ‘I’m not lovely at all. My hips have spread and my nose is too big.’

  ‘I don’t like button noses. They make me think of pigs.’

  She giggled. ‘This food is delicious. Thank you, Mike.’

  ‘Good. Would you like something to follow? They do a great banana fritter.’

  Chrissie would. And she drank a lot of delicious green tea, refusing his attempts to ply her with alcohol although she noticed he had an exotic cocktail himself, followed by several shots of neat vodka. When the meal was over and he had paid, he slung an arm around her shoulders and propelled her towards the street. Outside, the fresh air hit him and she felt him stagger.

  ‘Sorry.’ He burped and gave her a lopsided grin. ‘I’m too pissed to drive you home. You’ll have to sleep at my place.’

  ‘No, Michael. I have no intention of sleeping at your place – even if it’s not in your bed.’

  ‘Come on, sweet thing. Don’t play the innocent. You always knew tonight was going to end up in my bed. After all, I just bought you a big Chinese meal – with dessert.’

  ‘Then I’ll pay for my share.’ She removed his arm from her shoulders and reached into her purse, pulled out several notes and tucked them into his top pocket. ‘I don’t have to prostitute myself for the price of a dinner.’

  He winced. ‘Ooh, you have a wicked turn of phrase.’

  ‘You haven’t heard the half of it. I wish I could say I enjoyed myself but I didn’t. Goodnight to you, Mike. I’ll get a taxi now.’ She peered up and down the street, looking for one.

  ‘A taxi?’ He sniggered, making himself even less appealing. ‘At eleven o’clock on a Saturday night. I don’t think so.’

  As if giving the lie to his words, a taxi swooped to a stop beside them but before she could take it, a laughing foursome pushed her aside and got in, slamming the door in her face. Chrissie blinked, surprised and shocked by their rudeness.

  ‘Come on, sweet thing.’ Mike was trying to take her hand. ‘Stop playing hard to get and come back to my place.’ If anything, his speech was even more slurred and she cursed herself for staying so late. She should have realized he was drinking too much and made her escape sooner. ‘It’s only a block or so – we can walk.’

  ‘Mike, forget it.’ She disengaged herself and pushed him away. ‘I’m not going anywhere else – not with you.’

  ‘Be damned to you, then. You little coldwater fish – frigid as the arctic winds that batter your coastline. I’ll bet you don’t even know what it’s all about. Good luck with Ryan, then. Two novices stumbling about, not knowing what to do—’ And, laughing helplessly at what he saw as his own wit, he lurched away from her and set off down the street.

  Chrissie closed her eyes for a few seconds in relief and then set about the serious business of hailing a cab, desperate enough to run into the street and try to flag one down. Finally, as she leaped for the kerb in despair, she heard one pull up behind her with a screech of brakes. She turned, ready to climb in, and then hesitated at the open door.

  ‘Hey, wait a minute. You’re not a cab—’ she started to say and gave a small shriek as somebody reached out and grabbed her by the wrist, yanking her roughly inside and slamming the door before taking off at speed.

  ‘No, darl, we’re not,’ said a gravelly voice. ‘But you’re coming with us just the same.’

  At that time of night in a busy street, it all happened so quickly that no one saw the abduction and Mike Harrison, angry and unused to being rejected, had long since disappeared into the crowd moving up the street.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘I DEMAND THAT you let me out at once.’ Terrified as she was, Chrissie tried to assert herself.

  ‘Sorry, luv. No can do. We’re on the freeway.’

  ‘So I see. Where are you taking me?’

  There were two men in the car: the driver and this other one, sitting uncomfortably close to her on the back seat. Both wore army fatigues but neither man was wearing a mask. The driver was young but the man sitting beside her was in his late forties at least. Appearing completely at ease, he smiled at her, showing white, even teeth.

  ‘I said – where are you taking me?’ she repeated, trying to conceal her terror.

  ‘Don’t worry about it,’ he said. ‘We’ll be there soon.’

  Chrissie thought fast. Who in the world would want to abduct her – it didn’t make sense. She tried to sound reasonable although this man frightened her: he seemed so calm and assured. ‘Look, this is obviously a case of mistaken identity. I don’t know who you think I am but you have the wrong girl. My people aren’t wealthy. We don’t have the sort of money kidnappers want.’

  ‘But if they dig deep enough, they can find it.’

  ‘I doubt it. My father used to be well off but now he’s a cripple in a wheelchair. My mother and I are doing our best to hold his business together.’

  ‘Oh, my heart bleeds.’ The man mocked her, pressing a hand to his chest.

  Although she was scared and breathless, Chrissie forced herself to try again. ‘So if you’ll just pull off the freeway and let me out at the nearest train station, I’ll forget that this ever happened. I won’t say anything about it at home and no one will notify the police.’

  He applauded gently. ‘Nice try.’ The man was still smiling but his pale eyes were boring into her, cold as ice. ‘But I don’t make mistakes. You are Rob Lanigan’s daughter, Christalynne, and you’re here because I have issues with him.’

  For a split second she thought of denying it but her shoulders drooped and she nodded instead. ‘Money i
ssues, I suppose?’

  ‘That’s between him an’ me, luv. And if I know your father, he’ll pay us handsomely for your return.’

  She laughed shortly. ‘If that’s what you think, you’ve been sadly misled. My father and I don’t get on. He wouldn’t give you so much as the small change in his pockets – not for me.’

  ‘But your mother would.’ His tone was sly. ‘I’ve known women who’d give the clothes off their backs to save the life of a child.’

  Seeing cars passing close by, she moved without warning and started to bang on the side window, trying to catch the attention of other motorists. ‘Help me! Help!’ She was trying to scream but the man was twisting her wrist and crushing her painfully against the door so it came out as a scarcely audible squeak.

  The younger man who was driving looked at them in the rear-view mirror.

  ‘Everything all right back there?’ he said. Chrissie thought he sounded almost as scared as she was.

  ‘No. I can handle it,’ the older man said over his shoulder before giving Chrissie a sharp slap on the cheek, making her gasp. It stung rather than hurt but she wasn’t used to physical punishment and it shocked her.

  ‘Dad!’ The driver was watching them in the rear-view mirror. ‘Please don’t rough her up. You said you weren’t going to harm her.’

  ‘Shut up. Keep your eyes on the road and stop calling me dad,’ the older man snapped before lowering his voice and whispering so that only Chrissie should hear. ‘Behave yourself. I don’t like hurting women but if I have to, I do. Be a good girl now and hide your head under this rug.’ He picked it up from the floor and threw it at her. ‘I don’t want you to see where we’re going.’

  Chrissie did as she was told. The rug made her feel sick as it was dirty and smelled of some animal, probably a dog, but she didn’t want him to hit her again.

  Only now did she realize she was in deep trouble. She was dealing with a ruthless man who would show no mercy and stop at nothing. Even if the impossible happened and her father paid up, she didn’t think her prospects were good. It seemed unlikely that she would get out of this situation alive.