Ross's Girl

by Jane Corrie

  `You know what,' Ross answered, still with that silky note in his voice that told Vicky that she was in for a lecture, and she resented it. `What's this about a job?'

  Vicky took a deep breath and put down her knitting. It was no good getting mad at him, and she supposed he had a right to know, for the old friendship between the families if nothing else. 'It's just an idea of mine,' she said patiently, 'and a good one. I need a change, and it's about time I struck out on my own,' she added firmly.

  Ross continued to study her, his blue gaze going slowly over her slight figure. 'We could always bring the marriage plans forward,' he said carefully. 'There's no point in looking for work. Forget it.'

  Vicky's blazing eyes met Ross's cool ones. 'I'm not going to forget it!' she blazed at him. 'I'm tired of being told what I should do and what I shouldn't! This time I'm pleasing myself—and I wish you would listen to what I say,' she added crossly. 'I said I was not going to marry you and you didn't listen, but I mean it. Look,' she said exasperatedly, keeping a wary eye on the firm set of Ross's jaw, 'things are different now, aren't they?'

  Ross's brows lifted. 'How?' he queried loftily.

  Vicky gave an impatient shrug of her slim shoulders. 'You know very well what I'm talking about,' she said accusingly. 'This station was-well, I suppose you could call it my dowry, wasn't it? Well, you had to buy the station, and that wasn't the idea at all, was it? It certainly wasn't the way your parents wanted it—mine neither, come to that, but it's a fact, and you know something else?' she tacked on firmly, 'they wouldn't expect us to go ahead under those conditions. I mean, it's not as if we had an undying passion for each other, is it?' she demanded, adding hastily as she saw Ross rise slowly from his chair, 'and no amount of the kind of bear-hug you gave me this morning will alter that,' she declared. 'Can't you see I'm letting you off the hook?' she asked impatiently.

  `I don't recall complaining,' Ross said dryly. 'As for all this talk about love—' his firm mouth twisted in an ironical sneer. 'It's overrated,' he declared forcibly, 'I know you, and you know me, and in my book that's good enough. I'm willing to put up a show, if that's what you want, but don't expect me to turn into a movie Romeo overnight,' he added with a grin. 'Besides,' he tacked on maddeningly, 'you're no sultry heroine yourself. Look at those faded jeans of yours. Haven't you anything more feminine to wear?' he demanded. 'If I'm going to play the part of the lover, you might give me some encouragement,' he complained lightly, but there was an imp of amusement lurking behind his blue eyes.

  There he goes again! Vicky thought furiously. Making fun of me. 'I don't want you to play act,' she ground out between clenched teeth. 'I just want you to realise that it's no go. I'm not going to change my mind, I'm going to Albury to get a job, and that's final!'

  `You're doing no such thing!' Ross said forcibly. `So you can forget it. What the devil could you do anyway? Apart from waiting at tables—or standing behind the counter of a multiple store. If you think I'm letting you do that, then you've another think coming. Here's where you belong, and where you're staying.'

  Vicky recognised that tone of voice; it meant no arguing. The master had spoken! She took a deep breath. She knew she was asking for trouble, but this was one fight that Ross wasn't going to win. `Says who?' she spat out furiously, jumping out of her chair and standing glaring up at him with her hands on her slender hips and her chin thrust out in defiance.

  `You know the answer to that one,' said Ross in his quiet determined voice. `Go by all means. I can't keep an hourly check on you, but I'm warning you, I'll drag you back each time you make the break. You'll see it my way eventually,' he added smoothly.

  `Why?' said Vicky, her curiosity overcoming her fury. 'Why should you bother?' Her smooth brow creased in a frown and then her brows went up. `Pride, is it?' she asked silkily. 'Because everyone will think you've turned me down? They'll never

  dream it was the other way round, will they?' she added furiously.

  Ross's dark brows lifted at this. 'Think I care two hoots for gossip?' he said dryly. 'You ought to know better than that. No, I guess I feel responsible for you,' he added quietly, supplying fuel to the fire already raging in Vicky.

  `I'm over nineteen,' she said with as much dignity as she could muster, although she wanted to scream it out at . him. He had made her feel an encumbrance. As he saw it he was only doing his duty, the big brother act again, she thought bitterly. 'I'm over the age of consent,' she told him coldly, 'and I can even vote,' she added sarcastically.

  Ross nodded grimly. 'In your case, age has nothing to do with it. You've, a long way to go before you grow up. Perhaps you're right about not marrying me—not for a year or so anyway. I'd say even more than that,' his narrowed gaze swept over her slight figure. 'I guess that's partly the reason why I haven't pushed things before, but we've plenty of time,' he said comfortably. 'Look, if you're so all-fired set on a change, I'll arrange for you to visit my aunt in Sydney for a spell. How about that?' he suggested quietly.

  Vicky's eyes went to the carpet on the floor. She was tempted to accept the offer. It would get her away from the station and give her time to think. She took a deep breath. She didn't need time to think She knew what she wanted, and that was her freedom from the contract that Ross was determined to honour. At this point a vision of

  Mrs Janson arose in her mind, and of the way she had tried to groom Vicky into the kind of wife she wanted for her son. She knew the aunt he spoke of was her sister, and recalled meeting her a few years back a very smart woman, who moved in the exclusive circles of Sydney's rich, and who would no doubt look upon Vicky as a country cousin, and worse still, take on the unfinished task of grooming her for her future role as Ross's wife.

  She would have no freedom. Her friends and acquaintances would be chosen for her, and she would be known as 'Ross's girl' wherever she went. A wave of bitterness swept over her. 'No, thank you,' she said quietly, concealing her hurt, for she was sure Ross's intention was the same as his mother's had been. A little grooming would be necessary to bring her up to scratch. He was stuck with her and was trying to make the best of a bad deal. His earlier hints on her clothes had proved that.

  Ross, seeing her hesitation, mistook the reason. `Well, think about it,' he said quietly, 'and forget the other,' he ordered, back to his old authoritative tone.

  Vicky's eyes left the carpet and met his blue gaze. `I'm sorry, I can't do that,' she said with quiet dignity, and there was something in her bearing that did more to convince Ross of her determination than any of her earlier statements.

  `Can't, or won't?' he said softly, through narrowed eyes. 'Not even to please me? Even though I got your father out of one hell of a tight hole?' he said harshly.

  Vicky's eyes widened as she stared back at him. This was not the Ross she knew. This was a subtle kind of blackmail, and the last ruse she would have expected him to use. She knew he liked his own way, but to go that far—She swallowed. 'That's below the belt,' she said quietly, her blazing eyes showing her feelings.

  `When the devil drives,' said Ross, but the answering blaze in his eyes told her he was as angry as she was.

  `And what devil's driving you?' Vicky replied furiously, 'Pride—that's what it is, isn't it? You're only thinking how bad it will look for you if I move out, aren't you? All right!' she ground out. `I'll stay—but only because you've made me feel beholden to you. No doubt I shall have to marry you for the same reason,' she added bitterly. 'I presume you paid a high price for the station. High enough to include the extras,' she spat out at him. She knew that she was being ungrateful, and that her words were cruel, but she was goaded beyond reason. It wasn't her fault that her father had made a fool of himself, but she was being made to pay the price of his folly.

  Ross took a step nearer to her, and she knew by the blaze in his eyes that he was having trouble keeping his hands off her. 'As a matter of fact,' he blazed out at her, 'I paid twice what it was worth.' His jaw tightened as he looked beyond her at a spot on the si
tting-room wall. 'Your father's been living on capital for years. I warned him again and again that he couldn't go on taking it out, and not

  putting it back, but I guess it was easier the other way,' he added harshly. 'The station's a shadow of its former state. It was prosperous enough when your father took it over. I guess it's not entirely his fault. He's no business sense. You either have it or you don't—and he hadn't. If he'd listened to me all those years ago and put a manager in, then it wouldn't have taken long to repair the damage; as it is, there's a hell of a lot to see to and it's going to take twice as long to lick into shape. That's why I put Jake in charge. It wouldn't have worked the other way. Jake's a good man and should have been put in charge ages ago. He's the one who's really been running the station.'

  Vicky couldn't meet his eyes. She felt ashamed of herself. Jake couldn't have kept things going without some help himself, someone to put him on the right lines, and she knew who that someone had been. She wished that she had known how it had been, but it was too late now. This was something that Ross had never meant to tell her. He was not a man to betray such confidences, particularly when it concerned her father. It just went to show how far she had goaded him, she thought miserably. Still keeping her eyes on the carpet, she said in a low voice, 'I'm sorry, Ross, I didn't know how things were.'

  It was meant to be an apology, but it did not have the desired effect, it only seemed to make Ross even more furious. 'No,' he bit out harshly, `there's not much you know about anything, is

  there? That's why I'm holding you to your word about staying put. I've too much on my plate to hare off after you. There's too many drifters around on the lookout for little green girls like you. As for having to marry me,' he gave a twisted sneer, `I shouldn't worry too much about that. I want a helpmeet, not a wife who's liable to kick over the traces through boredom, so you can safely forget that part of it,' he added meaningly.

  Stunned, Vicky looked up just in time to see Ross's tall frame striding out of the door, the door almost slamming after him

  The odd catch phrase of 'was it something I said?' floated through her mind, and she gave an hysterical giggle, then closed her eyes as she fought for calmness. She'd got what she wanted, hadn't she? Ross wouldn't marry her if she was the last girl in the country. She had known that he didn't love her, but she had been totally unprepared to hear what he really thought of her. There was nothing, she thought with tears in her eyes, to compare with a showdown. At least she now knew where she stood with him. As far as he was concerned she was a confounded nuisance to him. It oughtn't to have come as such a shock to her. She had known it all the time, but to actually hear him say so—She wiped the tears from her eyes, then straightened her slim shoulders. Tomorrow she'd feel better about things. When Ross did eventually marry, she could carry out her delayed plans for her future. Whoever was his bride-to-be, and Vicky didn't envy her one little bit, would make certain

  that his attention stayed on her, and not on Vicky Dale, and giving Vicky freedom at last from any obligation Ross felt towards her.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  THE following day Jake and Mary moved into the homestead. Their personal furniture had been packed away in one of the storehouses awaiting their final move into the quarters Ross was having built for them.

  For her part Vicky was glad of the company. Mary's quiet and soothing manner, and natural acceptance of any situation that arose, would help her to get her own troubles back into perspective again.

  For someone who had gained an important victory over Ross—an almost unprecedented happening—she was curiously deflated. It had been a long time before she had got to sleep the previous night. It was not so much Ross's condemnation of her as a young and foolish girl whom he felt responsible for, but the altered status in their relationship. Whatever else she had thought of Ross, she had considered him a friend, even when she was furious with him; her fury soon abated as it did with fights between families, all being forgiven because of strong ties of affection.

  They ought, she had argued silently with herself,

  have been able to talk things over in a reasonable way. It was not like Ross to lose his temper like that, but she had never stood up to him before, had never had reason to. Since he had taken over Jarra Station, his visits to Dale's Creek and the Dales visits to his home, had been few and far between. They were in constant touch through the normal running of the stations, but that was a business contact and not a social one.

  Had they both changed so much? she thought bewilderedly. They were strangers now, and it was none of her doing. It had been his choice to spend all his time on the station. In the early days, shortly after he had taken over the station, there had been local events, that they would normally have attended together, but he had put duty before pleasure. At the time, this was understandable, but as the weeks and months passed, it became a habit.

  Looking back now with hindsight, Vicky could see how much of a tedious duty those outings must have been for him, escorting a wide-eyed teenager, as she had been in those days, to various organised amusements.

  It had never occurred to Vicky that Ross might have been bored, or that given the chance he would have passed this task on to someone else. She had taken his company for granted, and had never know what it felt like to have to rely on others for company. It was small wonder that she had no friends of her own age. She had acquaintances, of course, girls she had gone to school with, and that

  she met at the get-togethers during the years, Cassy Brook and her friend Lucy Sean being two of them, but acquaintances were all they were, and after overhearing Cassy's remarks regarding herself, Vicky was not likely to seek a closer friendship with either of them.

  Her thoughts were still on her encounter with Ross when she had awoken that morning, and recalling his remarks upon her clothing, she was tempted to put on a skirt. She had not worn a skirt for ages, she thought, and stared at her old faded jeans, then gave a shrug. If she did dress up, Ross would be sure it was for his benefit. She scowled. It wasn't worth it. Besides, she felt more comfortable in her old jeans and she was not out to impress anyone, least of all Ross!

  After her shower, however, and recalling that Jake and Mary would be moving in that morning, she compromised by wearing her second-best trews and a crisp white blouse. She ought to put on some sort of a show for Mary's sake, she told herself, as she went down to prepare the breakfast. Mary was always neatly dressed.

  Her father's query of 'was she going somewhere?' did not make for a good start to the day, and only proved Ross's point that she took no trouble over her appearance, and she gave a dignified reply to the effect that as Mary and Jake were coming that morning, she had decided to make an effort, and she did not miss her father's swift look of relief at this reply.

  It was then that she realised that he did not know

  the result of her talk with Ross the previous evening, as she had gone to bed by the time he had come back from Jake's.

  Not only Ross's pride would have been hurt if she had gone ahead with her plan to find herself a job, she thought ruefully. She had forgotten to take her father's feelings into account. There would most certainly be talk. She sighed inwardly. It had seemed such a good idea at the time, too.

  She was reminded of Ross's bald comments when he had accused her of only thinking of herself. Not that he had actually said that, but she was sure that that was what he had in mind when he said that she hadn't grown up. She took a deep breath. 'About getting a job,' she began slowly, 'I suppose there's plenty of time. I promised Ross I wouldn't do anything about it for a while,' she tacked on lamely, and seeing her father's relieved smile, added, 'It's something I'll keep in mind, though.'

  `Sure, sure,' agreed her father hastily, as he handed her his cup for a refill. 'I guess things will look up now that Mary's around to keep you company.' He stared down at the kitchen table. 'You know, I'm looking forward to taking a back seat,' he commented thoughtfully. 'Didn't like the idea at first, mind you, but Ros
s was right to put Jake in charge,' he grinned at Vicky. 'Seems he's been coaching him for a manager's job for some time. It will take a lot of worry off my shoulders, too. Things aren't the same as they were in your grand-

  father's day. It's one damn form after another now—all paper work.'

  Vicky's brows lifted as she handed him his second cup of coffee. 'Forms you'll still have to fill in. You're doing the paper work, aren't you?' she commented dryly.

  `I only fill in what I'm told to fill in,' he replied airily. 'Things are changing around here now that it's under new management. That's Ross's headache now and he's welcome to it,' he added with a certain amount of relish in his voice.

  As Vicky sat sipping her coffee, her thoughts returned yet again to Ross's comments the previous evening on her father's lack of ability to run the station profitably, but they couldn't all be clever, she thought tartly. Not everyone had Ross Janson's genius in making things work, and very few would come up to his high standards, but he wouldn't see things that way. He didn't rate her father very high, and rated his daughter even lower! she thought ironically.

  Jake and Mary arrived shortly after breakfast, Mary, as always, looking trim in a plain green sleeveless dress. Her brown wavy hair that seemed to spring away from her forehead now showed a light sprinkling of grey, but her round pleasant features and deep brown eyes never seemed to alter. Her expression was continually one of placidity, although Vicky detected a trace of anxiety in her eyes as they met hers. Jake had obviously told her of Vicky's first reaction to the news that he was taking over as manager, and it was plain that Mary

  was not too happy about it herself, but Vicky's cheery welcome and amused quip that her father was looking forward to a change of cook quickly reassured her, and they chatted together amicably while Mary helped Vicky with the breakfast dishes. Mary insisted on doing the washing of the dishes, and leaving Vicky to dry.