The Rouseabout Girl (8 page)

‘Yuk—hogget chops again—don’t cook any for me!’ Paula, in her sea-green satin nightdress and matching negligee, had come into the room. Ignoring Sandy and Lanie, she went to Jard and leaned over his shoulder. ‘Morning! Tell me, when can I get you to myself to give my new mare the once-over? It wouldn’t lake you long, and no one else could really tell me whether she’s worth keeping or not.’

He g
l
anced up and Lanie saw that there was no particular emotion in his direct gaze. ‘Give me an hour. I’ve got to take a run down to the woolshed for a starter.’

‘Lovely. See you then.’ Paula poured herself tea, then drifted away, her cup in her hand. The next moment Lanie caught Clara’s
sibilant
whisper. ‘It will take her that long to put on her make-up,’ she said waspishly. But Lanie couldn’t help the thought that Paula, with or without make-up, was a vision of loveliness that surely no man could resist. Except Jard, of course, who appeared impervious to her charms. Or could it be that his outward demeanour was just a cover to mask his real feelings? And what on earth was his love life to do with her anyway?

It seemed to Lanie an age before the meal was over, and though she busied herself at the sink she was uneasily
aware
of Jard’s presence. At least, she comforted herself, he didn’t seem to want her to attend to his needs but helped himself to a second cup of tea and placed a slice of bread in the toaster.

He was moving towards the door when Sandy’s pleasant tones arres
t
ed him. ‘Wait! If you’re heading down to the woolshed, how about taking Lanie with you for a spin? She doesn’t know a thing about what's outside yet
—
’

‘It’s all right,’ Lanie interposed in her soft husky tones. ‘I want to get things straight here first. Later on I’ll take myself for a stroll around and get my bearings.’

‘A stroll around here could turn into a marathon.' Sandy joked. He flung Jard a grin. ‘He can’t wait to
give you a rundown on what goes on around here, show
you around
—
’

‘No! Please!’ In her agitation she grabbed at the plate that had slipped from her hand, but it fell to the floor, shattering into pieces. She bent down to collect the fragments. ‘I’ve got a lot to do.’ Determination lent an edge to her tone. ‘Things I can’t leave.’

‘Oh, come on,’ Jard’s drawling voice sent alarm signals flying along
her nerves. ‘They can wait. A run
down to the wo
o
lshed could be quite an experience for a city girl like you. You might enjoy the ride!’

Still flushed from the heat of the range, she eyed him suspiciously. His unexpected offer covered some ulterior motive to put her down, she felt sure.

C
l
ara, with well-meant intentions, ranged herself on the side of the enemy. ‘You run along with Jard, Lanie. I’ll clear up here.’ What could she do?
Lanie sent Jard a glance from under her eyelashes.

‘You don’t have to run me around
—
’

All at once he was smiling, a smile she didn’t trust one little bit. ‘No trouble ... a pleasure.’

There was nothing for it but to go with him out to the waiting Land Rover. He helped her up the high step, then went around the vehicle and slid in behind the wheel. ‘Sandy tells me you’re nuts about the country.’ He put a hand to the starter and they swept around the drive and rattled over the cattlestop. ‘That’s why you took the position here,
he says
.’

Her clear gaze swept up to the closed masculine face. There it was again, the tightly set jaw and cold expression.

‘It’s true,’ she breathed,’ and I don’t care,’ she cried hotly, ‘whether you believe me or not!’

‘Oh, I believe you.’ His tone was deceptively bland. ‘And that was your only reason for coming?’

‘Yes, it was!’ she snapped.

‘Right!’ He was back to his hard, arrogant self. ‘Hope you’re not nervous about heights and all that?’

‘Not a bit.’ What did he mean? she wondered on a wave of apprehension. She wouldn’t put it past him to put her through a hair-raising drive just for his own selfish reasons, to try to get rid of her by scaring the wits out of her.

At first it wasn’t so bad. They sped along the curving track in the direction of a cluster of buildings ahead. There were stables, implement sheds and garages, and she could see pastureland dropping steeply down to the sea.

‘Here we go!’ All at once Jard made a sharp turn and they ran over a grassy patch towards a bank ahead
.
A bank? It was a sheer cliff, she realised a few moments later as they hurtled over the edge and plunged down the precipitous slopes. Jolted wildly from one side of the seat to the other, she made no demur. She couldn’t anyway, she thought grimly, for all her energies were taken up with striving to keep her balance. To Lanie it seemed that the incline dropped down for ever as, buffeted and shaken, they lurched on. Dimly she was conscious of a jumbled picture of black sandhills and blue sea spinning dizzily before her eyes as they bumped over ledges in the cliff face. Without conscious thought she reached out to grip the nearest support, which happened to be Jard’s sinewy brown arm. It was some time before she realised she was hanging on tightly to him and immediately she released her gri
p
. Bumps, bruises, anything was preferable to being dependent on him for assistance.

At last, just when she had decided she couldn’t endure one more moment of being thrown around, they lurched down on to a stretch of grass below the sandhills. Not a word f
r
om him about the hair-raising drive he had just put her through, she thought crossly, and if he imagined she was going to give him the satisfaction of complaining about it, he was very much mistaken. Soon they were driving past tall
karaka
trees and approaching a great timber woolshed with its ramp and holding pens.

Jard braked to a stop at the foot of a flight of steps leading up to the shearing shed and dropping to the ground, f
l
ung open the passenger door. He eyed her with his cool glance. ‘Care to take a look around in the
shed? I don’t suppose you’ve ever been inside a shearing shed before?’

Was he throwing off at her, a city girl? Lanie wondered. Probably he was. Aloud she forced her voice to a light, enthusiastic note. ‘Love to!’

Presently he was hinging open the door of the shed and Lanie climbed over the high step.

They moved into the shadowy interior over a floor slippery with the oil of a myriad fleeces, and Lanie, looking around her, took in the presses, tables and sorting benches. High above, the rafters were festooned with cobwebs and the windows, she thought, looked as though they had never ever been cleaned.

Jard had paused, his gaze scanning the scene around them, and she followed his glance. ‘Just wanted to check that everything’s okay for the shearers,’ he tossed off.

Lanie
’
s mouth fell open. ‘Sh-shearers?’ She could have kicked herself for that betraying stammer. A town girl she might be, but she had lived long
enough in the country to know onl
y too well that the visit of the shearing team meant to a farmer’s wife the preparation of colossal meals and morning and afternoon smokos
—
all served bang on time, for the men were paid by the hour for their back-breaking toil in the blistering heat of the shed. And guess who, she had a hollow feeling in her midriff, would be the one called upon to produce the supplies of food! Aloud she asked, ‘When—are they due to arrive?’

‘Tomorrow morning, actually.
I
’
ve jacked it all up with a local team—why are you looking at me like that?’

The beast! The hateful sadistic brute! He was enjoying her horrified reaction to his words, she could tell by the triumphant glimmer in his eyes. He’d scored a point over her, damn him, and was delighted with his victory.

‘I’ve got news for you!’ Through horror and confusion, she tried to gather her wits together. It was the glint of amusement in his grey eyes that spa
r
ked her to real anger. ‘A bit more than you bargained for when you took on the job, hmm? But Sandy did tell you that we ran sheep as well as cattle down here?’

‘Yes, but
—’
Suddenly the rage building up inside
her spilled over. Jard’s sardonic expression was just too much to bear. She looked up at him, eyes sparkling, a betraying flush mounting on delicate cheekbones. ‘You arranged it specially, didn’t you?’ she flung at him. ‘That phone call you put through from the motel
yesterday
—’

‘No, I didn’t!’ At the fury in his expression she knew a moment of real fear that she had gone too far with this man who was, after all, a stranger to her. After a moment’s silence he seemed to get control of himself, but she knew the anger was still there.
O
h,
i
t was there all right, in his low controlled tone. ‘Don’t flatter yourself!’ he grated harshly. ‘Do you really imagine that I run this station to suit the personal wishes of me or my staff?
Do you
?’
His hard grey glance pierced her and Lanie couldn’t sustain his look.

‘No,’ she admitted, ‘but
—’

‘But you still think so? Let me put you right. If you’re going to work on a station you may as well get it into
that pretty head of yours
—
’ Lanie got such a shock
at the word ‘pretty’ that she glanced up at him quickly, but apparently he hadn’t even noticed his slip of the tongue. She wrenched her mind back to the low tone, throbbing with anger. ‘The main shearing’s over. We shear twice a year down here. That way we can cope with the dirt and dust that otherwise can put us out of the market for carpet manufacturing of the wool. Last clip there were a few sheep that missed out, a couple of days’ work for the shearing gang. Mike arranged for the team to be here in the morning.’

‘I get it.’ In spite of her earlier suspicions Lanie believed what had been said to be the truth. ‘I
t’
s just bad luck for me, then.’ She spoke her thoughts aloud.

‘Not for an experienced cook!’

‘I didn’t say
I
was
—
’ she flung at him hotly.

‘In that case,’ he returned smoothly, ‘this is your big
chance, then. Put it that way.’

‘Starting at seven in the morning, I suppose?’ She was dismayed at the note of desperation in her tone. Why couldn’t she toss the whole thing off with confidence, as Paula no doubt would have done in the same circumstances?

'Relax!’ Jard was actually grinning down at her, even if it wasn’t a really warm friendly sort of grin. ‘This gang are Maoris who live around the district. I’ve offered to put them up in the shearers’ quarters, but they prefer to sleep in their own homes and do the two hours’ stint each way every day.’

‘So?’ This time Lanie managed to sound not quite so pathetic and hopeless.

‘So there’s no breakfast for you to worry about. Ten o’clock smoko, of course, you can rustle up some scones and sandwiches for that. Get one of the boys to r
u
n you down to the shed.’

Just like that, she thought bitterly.

‘Lunch won’t be to
o
bad for you,’ he was saying, just as if it were all a nothing thing, as no doubt it was to him. ‘Pizza pies, cold salads, cold meat, that sort of stuff.’

The unfeeling brute! she thought, tight-lipped. If it weren’t that he was so good-looking she really would hate him. As it was
.
.. she wrenched her mind back to the deep vibrant tones. ‘Dinners are straightforward fare. Hot joints with roast potatoes and vegies, cold fruit, there’s swags of ice cream in the freezer. Edna always gives them apple pies that they seem to appreciate a lot.’

I can’t cope with this. The frantic thoughts were running through Lanie’s mind. Then she caught the mocking expression in Jard’s grey eyes. She couldn’t cope, but she had to, she thought distractedly, if only to prove him wrong! Somehow, somehow, she would succeed in providing those vast quantities of food. And heaven help the shearers!

All at once she became aware that he was regarding her narrowly. ‘Is it on?’

She drew a deep breath, raised her chin and tried to infuse an uncaring note into her voice. ‘Why not?’ The expression of surprise in Jard’s suntanned face was gratifying. What had he expected of her? she wondered. That she would give up in despair and leave the station here and now? Was that what he wanted?
Unconsciously
she sighed. There couldn’
t be much doubt on that point.

At that moment she was conscious of the stillness in the interior of the great room that stretched away into the shadows. A sort of waiting stillness. For no reason at all her heartbeats quickened.

‘You surprise me!’

She raised her glance to his and once again something powerful, intangible, held their gaze enmeshed as a life force flashed its potent magic between them. The next moment he bent down to kiss her full on the lips. Now her heartbeats were really thudding. It was an effort to speak at all, let alone with any degree of composure. ‘What,’ she asked breathlessly, ‘was that for?’

‘Just sealing a bargain,’ came the cool tones. ‘Let’s go, shall we?’ He had flung around, and wordlessly Lanie went with him out into the sunshine. She was still feeling bemused by his kiss, which evidently had been
to him a mere gesture. It must be the heady excitement of having accepted his challenge, she mused, that had awakened in her this feeling of radiant happiness and a heightened sense of perception. For never before had she seen a sky of such a dazzling blue or sunshine so bright that it sparked a myriad diamond flashes in the dark metallic sands.

When she had climbed back in the Land Rover Jard lowered his powerful muscular frame into the driver’s seat and swung the vehicle around on the dried grass. Then they shot along a road beside the sea.

‘It’s got quite a history, Rangimarie,’ he told her. ‘In the early days this used to be the access road to the station. Everything they needed in the place had to come by boat. That was before the road was cut through the hills. They must have had fun and games in the old days, getting the bales of wool loaded into surfboats.’

‘Especially in this wild sea.’ Her gaze swept the bleached logs piled up on black sandhills, the white rolling surf. Inwardly, the thoughts raced through her mind. How odd that he’s talking to me just as though I were any ordinary guest in his home. He must have forgotten who I
really
am. She stole a glance towards his strong profile, but his expression gave nothing away.

All at
o
nce she realised they were swinging into a wide sandy track curving up cleared, sheep-threaded slopes. To think, she reflected indignantly, that we could have taken this route down to the shearing shed—but instead Jard had chosen to put her through some sort of endurance test in the hairy drop down the cliff face. The physical discomfort she was still feeling sparked her to say spiritedly, ‘This is the road down to
the shed,
isn’t it? Why ever didn’t you—?’

‘Take the easy way?’ He threw her a satirical grin. ‘Thought you might like the experience.’

‘You could have asked me,’ she muttered crossly.

‘You’d have said no, and missed out on something good!’

‘Like a bone-shaking ride I could well do without?’

‘But I got the idea you liked the outback?’ His tone was deceptively gentle. ‘That that was what you wanted, to try out a new life in the country. Or did I read Sandy wrong about that?’

He had trapped her neatly, and to change the subject she said quickly, ‘The shearing gang—I was wondering how long they’ll be here.’

‘Not long. A couple of days, that’s all.’

A couple of days, she thought bleakly. To her it would be an eternity.

‘All good experience,’ he taunted her.

Lanie threw him an exasperated glance.
‘
Thanks very much!’

They turned into the main drive approaching the homestead and presently Jard braked to a stop below the sun-splashed verandah. ‘I’ll leave you here.’

She dropped down from the high step, throwing a muffled ‘Thanks’ over her shoulder. It was an effort to force herself to say the word, considering—well, everything. Maddening to find herself so shaken by his kiss. The thoughts flew through her mind as she went up the steps. What had impelled him? An impulse born of the intimacy of the shadowy shed and the company of a pretty girl? Well, he had told her she was pretty, even though he had made the observation in an
off-putting
sort of way. A heart-knocking thought shot through her. Could it be that despite his unflattering, readymade opinion of her, he was attracted to her just a
little, just for a moment, but all the same
—h
ow
about you? a voice asked deep in her mind, but hurrying up the steps, she avoided the answer to that one.

She was moving down the long carpeted hail when Paula’s strong tones arrested her. ‘Oh, there you are, Lanie!’ Paula was standing at the door of the lounge room and Lanie realised with surprise that the other girl’s glance lacked the suspicion and malice of the previous evening. ‘There’s someone waiting to see you,’ she said.

‘Me?’ Lanie paused. ‘But that's just not possible
—
’

‘Anything’s possible when you’re in love with someone.’ Paula’s voice was almost friendly. ‘That’s what your friend Trevor told me!’