'I know, but Mr Hunter was so persistent that I couldn't refuse. He came with a letter of introduction from Mr and Mrs Boynton. You remember the Boyntons, don't you, Kate? They were that nice family I worked for for so many years until they moved to Melbourne. It must be five years now.'
Kate couldn't remember, but she nodded anyway, not wanting to distract Mrs Abbott from the much more important subject of Gerard Hunter.
Mrs Abbott continued. 'There was something about the man which made it impossible to say no. I've been working for him for a month now, ever since his house was finished.'
Kate gazed sympathetically at Mrs Abbott, knowing exactly what the older woman meant. Mr Gerard Hunter was no ordinary man. Kate could remember only too well how she thought she had died and gone to heaven the first time she had laid eyes on the man, and although she hadn't experienced any of his charm she had no doubt he could dish it out whenever it suited him, even if it meant cajoling little old ladies into working for him.
'Are you sorry now you took on the job?' Kate murmured sympathetically.
Mrs Abbott appeared surprised. 'Good heavens, no, in fact sometimes I feel guilty accepting the wage he gives me.'
'I don't see why!' Kate protested. 'Looking after a house that size must be hard work.'
'That's just it, Kate, I hardly lift a finger. He has a local girl come in once a week for a thorough cleaning, and the place has every modern convenience you could hope for. Mr Hunter never entertains and I only prepare the meals for him and his little boy.'
Kate smiled. 'But what about Matthew? Surely a child his age is demanding?'
Mrs Abbott shook her head sorrowfully. 'Not that child!'
Kate remembered Matthew's unusual silence, his apparent loneliness, and his father's adamant refusal to allow her to visit. 'Is there something wrong with Matthew?' she asked quietly.
Mrs Abbott sighed. 'I don't know,' she admitted. 'He seems healthy enough, but -' Mrs Abbott hesitated before continuing quietly, 'Would you believe that in the month I've been there I've not heard the child speak. Not one single word!'
Kate could believe it all right, she had already suspected as much. 'Has Mr Hunter offered any explanation?'
'None whatsoever. Actually, it's very sad, Kate, I've seen that man trying to coax the child to speak so many times, but the boy only turns away. It's heartbreaking to watch.'
Kate's heart filled with despair at Mrs Abbott's words. No wonder Gerard Hunter behaved the way he did! He was obviously deeply concerned. 'It sounds as if Matthew needs professional help. Gerard Hunter seems like an intelligent man, surely he's taken the child to a specialist?'
Mrs Abbott leaned back in her chair and sighed. 'I wouldn't know,' she said, 'it's not my place to question him, although he's taken Matthew to Brisbane twice since I've been there. Perhaps they see a doctor then.'
'I wonder,' Kate muttered, propping her chin in one hand, while beating out an impatient tattoo on the table with her other. 'Gerard Hunter is both proud and arrogant, a deadly combination. Perhaps he refuses to believe there's something wrong with his son.'
'Oh, Kate!'
Kate smiled at Mrs Abbott's shocked expression. 'Oh, I know what I'm talking about,' she said, 'I've had a few run-ins with Mr Gerard Hunter already, and each time he's left me with a feeling of helpless rage.' She leaned back in her chair, clasping her hands at the back of her head. 'He must have had a wife.' She peered sharply at Mrs Abbott. 'Has he ever mentioned her?'
The old lady smiled and shook her head. 'You're impossible, Kate,' she said fondly, and then at the expression on Kate's face added on a more serious note, 'no, but I think it's safe to assume they're divorced.'
'Or maybe something tragic happened to her,' Kate mused slowly. 'That could explain why they're both so ... so tragic themselves!'
'Kate!'
Kate had the grace to look ashamed. 'I'm sorry, Mrs Abbott, but something has obviously happened to them, and I am a reporter after all. I didn't mean to sound morbid, I'm just concerned.'
'And I'm concerned about you,' Mrs Abbott said quietly, 'and that's why I've come here. Stay away from Gerard Hunter and his son, Kate. He doesn't want you around. In fact, he told me that if that little hothead from next door comes around I'm to send her packing.'
'Oh, he did, did he?' Kate said, greatly amused. 'So he thinks I'm a little hothead, eh? I must admit he does bring out the worst in me, but better a hothead than a pighead, I always say.'
'Oh, Kate!' sighed Mrs Abbott, 'You'll never change. Anyway, I've performed my duty, I only hope you'll take my advice and stay away from them. Now tell me, how are your parents enjoying Western Australia?'
'Loving every minute. Did I tell you my brother and his family have gone over to join them? He hopes to help Dad with his new business, an ice-cream parlour. Can you imagine it? And Sue's expecting again, after two boys they're hoping for a girl . . .'
While Kate talked her mind was next door, her thoughts centring on the tall, dark-haired man and his solemn little son. By the time Mrs Abbott left, the beginning of a plan had started taking shape in her mind. She arose early the next morning, slipped into her bright yellow bikini, grabbed her sunglasses and beach towel and walked deliberately up to the Hunter home. Her hand didn't tremble when she lifted the brass knocker, letting it down with a huge bang.
The door swung slowly open and Kate found herself staring into Gerard Hunter's incredible blue eyes. He was dressed casually in a pair of white shorts and dark red V-necked T-shirt, the colours and the clothing enhancing his rugged male physique. The sight of him took Kate's breath away and she had to swallow hard before she could speak.
'Good morning, Mr Hunter,' she said politely. 'Beautiful day, isn't it?'
'Indeed it is, Miss Chalmers,' he returned in mock politeness matching her tone, his eyes trailing deliberately across her slender body clad in its very brief bikini. 'But you seem to have lost your way. The ocean happens to be down there, not up here.'
Kate's body was burning where his eyes had deliberately seared it. She felt the urge to run but steadfastly held her ground. She couldn't let her whole vacation slip by without at least trying to help this man no matter how hard he tried to dissuade her. Therefore she ignored his sarcasm and his boldness and squared her small shoulders.
'It's because it's such a beautiful day that I'm here,' she said in a voice so quietly determined that she surprised even herself. 'I would like to take Matthew for a swim,' she continued bravely despite the angry glare appearing in Gerard's eyes. 'I promise to keep a very close eye on him.'
'And why would a pretty young girl want to waste her time with my son? Surely you're up to swimming with the big boys now?'
An angry flush stained Kate's cheeks. 'I thought Matthew might enjoy some fresh air and some exercise.' Somehow she managed to reply calmly.
To her astonishment he slammed the door behind him, grabbed her arm and pulled her down the steps. Kate wrenched her arm free, feeling both pain and humiliation at this unexpected treatment.
'How dare you!' she gasped, rubbing her arm. She dropped her towel in the scuffle and Gerard bent down and retrieved it, holding the ends in either hand.
'I understand Mrs Abbott paid you a visit last evening,' he said in ominously low tones.
Kate stared at him, her beautiful hazel eyes large in her face. She hadn't thought Mrs Abbott would tell him about her visit, that she would somehow prefer to keep it secret. 'Did she tell you that?' she asked cautiously.'
'She did.'
Kate moistened her lips. 'Mrs Abbott is a . . . is a wonderful person,' she blurted out.
'She is indeed.'
'She loves children.'
'I wouldn't have her working for me if she didn't.' There was a flash of white teeth as he smiled. 'She likes you, too, in fact she used almost the same words to describe you as you've just done to describe her.'
Kate was feeling grossly uncomfortable and her cheeks felt as if they were on fire. 'Really?' She chuckled f
aintly. 'I guess it might be because we've known each other for so long, practically my whole life.'
'Mmmm.' He draped the towel loosely around Kate's neck while he kept hold of the ends. 'Mrs Abbott also tells me you're a reporter at a television studio in Brisbane.'
Kate's face was lifted to his, hazel eyes locked to blue. It was impossible for her to free herself even if she had wanted to. She felt hard muscular thighs pressing against her legs and suddenly her breath was coming in short irregular puffs. Her arms felt like blocks of wood as she lifted them, her fingers like matchsticks as she weakly tugged at his hands holding the towel.
He drew her closer, the backs of his hands rough against the tender skin of her chin, the cruelty in his eyes deepening as he steadfastly held her gaze. Suddenly he released her.
'Well, is that true?' he barked impatiently. 'Are you a news reporter?'
Kate's heart was thumping madly in her chest. She felt shaken to the core. She didn't trust herself to speak and could only nod her answer.
'Well, Miss Chalmers,' he drawled, 'there's no story here, if that's what you're after.' He crooked a long finger under her chin. 'I want to be left alone, do you understand?'
Kate hated herself for being so timid, but under the force of his probing gaze she was helpless to be anything else. His single finger was enough to hold her, and once again she nodded in mute obedience.
'And I don't want you finding any more excuses to come here, is that clear?'
'Y-yes,' she said faintly.
Firmly he turned her round, pointing her in the direction of the cottage. 'Now, go home!'
Kate was only too happy to escape. She forced herself to walk slowly until she heard him enter the house and slam the door behind him, then she ran. Gerard Hunter had managed to humiliate her thoroughly and completely. She would never forgive him!
And she wasn't pleased with herself either. She had behaved like a fool, like a gawky adolescent. It made her cringe when she remembered how she had practically swooned when he held her prisoner with her own towel. What a beast he was, what a horridly handsome, devastatingly cruel beast! Well, she had received the message all right. Wild horses wouldn't be able to drag her near his place again.
She felt hot and miserable as she trudged slowly to the little cottage trying to ignore the imposing structure of the Hunter mansion. It wasn't going to be easy pretending Gerard Hunter didn't live right next door and it would be hard to forget little Matthew.
Her lounge was dark after the sunny brilliance of the outdoors. Kate blinked to adjust her eyes to the sudden change. She almost didn't see Matthew curled up in her favourite chair, sound asleep, his small rosy cheeks damp with tears.
She stared down at him, her eyes widening in delight and horror, a curious mixture.
'My, my, my,' she whispered softly, 'I bet your daddy doesn't know you're here.'
CHAPTER THREE
Kate stared down in wonder at Matthew curled up and sound asleep in her chair. His father would no doubt be worried, if he had missed him. Yet she hesitated to wake him. He looked so sweet with his tousled hair falling over his baby brow, his little cheek pressed against his hands. His long lashes were damp and she wondered what had made him cry. There was no need to cover him. The room was pleasantly warm and his striped navy-blue and white T-shirt, white shorts and brown leather sandals were enough to keep him warm.
Kate tiptoed softly from the lounge. She had a quick shower and slipped into a pair of beige shorts topped with a white shirt gaily sprinkled with chocolate brown bulrushes. Barely ten minutes had passed before she was back in the lounge but, even so, Matthew had gone.
She almost fainted with relief when she found him off the kitchen standing under the shade of the pergola. Troubled, he might have wandered off and become lost.
'Hallo, Matthew,' she said softly, going over to stand beside him. He glanced up at her, rewarding her with a small smile, before turning away to watch a huge cat lumbering towards them.
'That's old Mr Kit-Kat and I see he's right on time as usual,' Kate chuckled, glancing at her watch. 'Come on, Matthew, you can help me get old Mr Kit-Kat his mid-morning snack.' Matthew obediently followed her into the kitchen and watched as she filled a bowl with cat food and another with milk.
'You take this and put it outside under the pergola,' said Kate, passing Matthew the bowl of food. 'I'll take the milk and then we can sit down and watch old Mr Kit-Kat gobble down his elevenses.'
Matthew took the bowl and carried it out to the pergola, setting it down with great care while Kate placed the milk, just as carefully, beside it. The huge cat sat just outside the pergola watching this operation with smug approval. He waited until Kate and Matthew were seated on the old cane settee before he got up, stretched and padded softly over to his fare.
'No one owns old Mr Kit-Kat,' Kate quietly confided to Matthew. 'I think he fancies himself far too clever to put up with just anyone.' Matthew rewarded her with another small smile and greatly encouraged, Kate continued, 'He has breakfast at the Turners' because Mr Turner is a fisherman and there's always plenty of fish. Then he likes to come here for his elevenses because I happen to have the particular brand of cat food he prefers.' She gave Matthew a knowing look. 'He's tried all the others, you see.' Matthew's eyes widened in delight, obviously pleased to be gaining this insight into the habits of the old tom. 'He has lunch with Mrs Tibbitts, who really looks forward to his company ever since her husband passed away. Afternoon tea is with the Swansons where he enjoys a scone or two, and then it's on to the Robinsons' for dinner where he gets all the leftovers from the Robinsons' five children.'
Mr Kit-Kat finished his snack and sat in the sun giving himself a thorough wash. Kate and Matthew watched, Matthew every bit as fascinated as Kate always was at this grand spectacle. She turned to Matthew. 'Should we brush his coat, help him a bit?'
Matthew nodded his head excitedly.
'All right, then. You stay here and keep an eye on him while I get his brush. It's just in here under the sink,' and she ducked into the kitchen to retrieve it. Kate held the old tom while Matthew passed the brush through his luxuriously thick and impossibly long pure black coat.
'Your hair is the same colour as Mr Kit-Kat's,' Kate observed, when the cat's grooming had reached a successful conclusion. 'Only yours is slightly shorter than his, thank goodness.'
Matthew giggled, obviously thrilled by the comparison, while Kate tousled his baby-fine hair, her eyes shining down at his happy little face.
Matthew visited Kate each day after that, arriving in time to help prepare Mr Kit-Kat's morning snack. Together they would sit and watch the old tom bolt his food and then the grooming session would begin. Mr Kit-Kat had never looked so grand! Matthew would leave when the cat did, and although Matthew never spoke to her, Kate sensed the tension easing in his sturdy little body. Whatever his troubles, she was certain they were becoming less and less.
On the fifth day Mr Kit-Kat arrived late, which meant Matthew was at Kate's longer than usual. They had just finished grooming the old tom when a dark shadow passed over them, causing them to look up quickly. Kate could feel Matthew's small body stiffen beside hers, and at the sight of Gerard Hunter her own body went rigid. They gaped up at the tall man while he looked from one to the other, his expression grim, his eyes blazing with anger.
'Run along home, Matthew,' Gerard said quietly, and Kate had to admire his remarkable control although she had no doubt she would receive the full brunt of his fury after Matthew had safely departed. Matthew got up slowly and looked uncertainly at Kate. His large blue eyes were filled with sympathy. He seemed to know what Kate was in for.
She smiled bravely. 'It's all right, Matthew. You go home now and perhaps we'll see each other later.'
This brief exchange between Kate and his son added fuel to fire and Kate knew Gerard Hunter's anger had now reached fever pitch. After Matthew had raced across her garden, ducking through a small hole in the old wooden fence to disappear into his own
garden, she had to bite her tongue to keep herself from calling him back. She had no desire to be left alone with his father.
But instead of strangling her, Gerard Hunter walked deliberately over to the fence, examining the hole Matthew had scampered through. Kate cautiously followed, watching in silence as Gerard pulled out rotten sections of the old picket fence.
'I'll replace this,' he said, more to himself than for the benefit of Kate's ears.
'Oh, don't worry about it,' she answered brightly. 'The only reason I keep it is because it supports my creepers.'
He turned slowly to face her. 'Do you think I give a damn about your creepers? It's Matthew I'm thinking of. If he got through here once he'll try it again.'
A lesser person would have shrunk from the look of contempt on his face, but not Kate. An angry flush crept across her smooth cheeks. 'So what? It's easier for him to get through here than by the beach, and it's certainly a lot safer than the road. Besides, this isn't the first time he's been here,' she declared almost triumphantly. 'Matthew's been visiting me every day for almost a week!'
He had been squatting by the low picket fence but now rose to his full height, towering above her small frame. 'I thought I made myself perfectly clear,' he said, his tone deadly. 'I don't want Matthew here any more than I want you at our place. My son and I want to be left alone.'
'You might want to be left alone, but your son certainly doesn't. He comes here of his own free will and he enjoys every second of his visits—in fact, he loves them!'
'I think I know what is best for my son, Miss Chalmers,' he said frostily. 'Matthew wouldn't come round unless you enticed him somehow.'
This was really too much for Kate. 'For goodness' sake!' she snapped angrily. 'I certainly don't lure Matthew here. The first time he came I found him asleep in my lounge when I got back from your place.'
She was about to mention that Matthew had been crying, but something about Gerard Hunter's expression decided her against it. For the briefest of seconds a deep sort of sadness had crept into his eyes, clouding them. The proud, broad shoulders stooped just a little, but the movement and the look were so brief that Kate began to wonder if she hadn't imagined them. His next words convinced her that she had. The man was hard, heartless.
Time to Trust Page 3