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With a dead-pan expression he replied, ‘Oh, I’m very definitely couth, and my parents are even more so.’

She giggled and then laughed outright. It sounded so ridiculous.

He joined in. 'I’ll make allowances for the knock you’ve had on your head. You should laugh more often.’

‘Why?’ she demanded in surprise.

‘The change is quite dramatic.’

'In what way?’

'I’ve been watching you as you listened. With that fair hair and delicate oval face plus the wide-eyed incredibly innocent expression, I thought you looked like a little old-fashioned Quaker girl, pure as driven snow, and . . .’

‘And?’ she echoed aggressively.

‘And then you laughed, and you became all Eve, warm, soft, and seductive. It’s quite intriguing. I must make you laugh more often.’

‘I won’t be here long enough to allow you to indulge in your fantasies,’ she said crushingly.

He laughed. 'It must be the name, I think. Serenity. Are you calm, serene and gentle, an unflappable girl?’

‘I used to be,’ Serenity admitted.

‘Before this wedding mix-up, you mean.’

‘No. Before that, when my mother was alive. Our life was pleasant, peaceful and I suppose you could say predictable. Since I lost her . . .’ she sighed.

‘Has that happened fairly recently?’ he asked sympathetically.

‘About eighteen months ago.’ She blinked hard as she felt the tears forming in her eyes. Why was she being so honest with this man? Why was the pain coming back today? Was it because she was aware that somewhere close to this place her mother had grown up? ‘Oh, look here’s your pet deer.’

She was glad of an excuse to change the subject and watched fascinated as Bambi trotted delicately up the rise on slender legs, then with a disdainful glance at the closed gate bounded lightly over the fence and walked up to them.

Hudson leaned forward and fed Bambi a scone, but when Bambi wanted another he pushed him away. ‘Get off. You’ll get fat.’

‘You’re just greedy,’ Serenity commented. ‘You’re keeping the scones for yourself. I'm going to give him one.’

‘Go ahead,’ he encouraged her with a smile. ‘When he finds you’re a soft touch you’ll never get any peace. Are you going to take my offer of a job?’

‘I might.’

‘You do move cautiously. I’ll have to bait the hook a bit more attractively. What will it take?’

‘Probably more than you have to offer,’ Serenity replied with an edge in her voice ... he really did have a colossal conceit.

He grinned unrepentantly. ‘Oh, I have a lot to offer, I haven’t started yet. . . well, only the horse.’

Turning her gaze from his wickedly teasing hazel eyes she felt her colour rise, but concentrated on the fabulous view until she could ask in a casual tone, ‘Have you many neighbours?’

‘Do you think you’d get lonely? Oh, I’d see to it that you didn’t.’

Hearing the laughter in his voice she glared at him. ‘You have an inflated opinion of your own appeal. I
prefer
solitude. The reason I asked about neighbours was that I nursed someone from here once and I wondered if the people mentioned still lived here.’

‘What was her name?’

‘I didn’t say what sex my patient was, and I would consider it a breach of confidence to discuss any of the circumstances with you. Perhaps if you offered me a few names I would recognise the one I’m looking for.’

‘Well, if they were in the farming line there are only a few to offer. Most of the holdings out here are quite large, and there would be all told only half a dozen owners.’ He rattled off several names.

Serenity shook her head. ‘No, they don’t sound familiar. Perhaps they have sold out and left years ago.’

Hudson frowned. ‘If you would be a little more specific, I could probably help you. These places tend to stay in the family, but off hand I can think of only one that has changed several times in the past twenty years, that’s Seaforths. Taylor’s had it before them, and Rotheram’s before that. . . Twenty years ago there was a thriving mill below the Haupiri bridge. People came and went all the time, but when they were here they really identified with the district. Then there have always been farm workers and contractors, temporary people, too many for me to remember off-hand.’

Serenity felt her hopes sliding away. She wasn’t going to find any trace of her mother. Perhaps her grandparents had left immediately after the scandal, if there had been a scandal. She knew so little. Maybe they had only been farm workers and moving about a lot, but that had not been her impression.

Hudson sat in thoughtful silence, then said in a genuinely puzzled voice, ‘Sorry, I can’t help you. Are you sure you've got the right area? Remember you’re on the West Coast now. It’s a close-knit community; friends, relatives can live miles away from each other and can still describe themselves as neighbours or near-by. Bell Hill Plains has been brought into production recently, and Rotomanu Valley has a big farming community and they are definitely our neighbours. Years ago all our cattle were driven out to the railhead at Rotomanu. Look, I’ll get you the phone book and you can run your fingers down the names. Perhaps you’ll come up with something.’

‘Forget it. It wasn’t that important.’ Serenity tried to make her remark in a light voice, but she was terribly depressed. She had not realised just how important the end of the journey had become to her, not until this very minute.

‘If my father were here, I’m sure he could help you. He’s got a phenomenal memory. He can recall everyone who has ever worked here, in fact he can remember anyone who has been in the Haupiri, but he and mother are overseas for a few months.’

‘I said not to worry about it.’ Serenity got out of her chair and walked over to stroke Bambi.

'It couldn't be the Tarrants . . . Old Tom and Sarah Tarrant. They’ve never been out of this valley so you couldn’t have nursed them. I know that for a fact. They died within a week of each other five years ago. I bought this place off them. Well, off Sarah! Old Tom was a right old tyrant, but Sarah and I were mates.'

Serenity’s hand froze on the sleek slender neck, making Bambi flinch nervously. With iron control she concluded the stroke downward and sat back on her heels fixing her gaze fiercely on the highest mountain peak, gratitude welling up in her that she was not facing Hudson right at this moment. Her mother had lived
here.

‘I suppose she spoiled you too, this Sarah.’ Serenity ventured in a flat and hopefully disinterested tone.

‘Ah, Sarah Tarrant was different, a truly wonderful woman, a real lady. Yes, I was a favourite of hers. Now
she
did live a hard life, and being married to Old Tom didn’t make it any easier. He was a hard unforgiving chap, twisted and bitter, and the meaner he got the more loving and gentle she became. He fought with everyone, she loved everyone . . .’

'Including him?’ The question came a bit thickly.

‘Oh, most definitely including him, and he did nothing to deserve that love. He was so cantankerous, so mean- spirited that I often felt like laying one on him to teach him to treat her better, yet she wouldn’t have thanked me for it. She never answered him back, didn’t even seem to notice his rudeness. She loved him and that love had a curious quality to it, a warmth, a depth that was beyond the ordinary.'

‘You sound envious,’ Serenity was careful not to turn towards him.

‘Any man would be, they don’t make them that way today. She was beautiful, even in her eighties. She was loving, absolutely loyal, even submissive, yet no doormat. She was highly educated, and had charm and a rare dignity. Sarah Tarrant was very special, to me, and to the whole district.’

Serenity stealthily slid her hand into her pocket and pulled out her handkerchief to wipe away the silent tears which slid down her face. She didn’t want him to know she was crying . . . crying for a grandmother whom he had known and loved and whom she would never meet. She made up her mind. She was going to take his job, no matter what it cost her, because she wanted to stay here and learn more about Sarah Tarrant, but she wouldn’t tell him yet. He must not connect her decision with this conversation.

‘You must have met someone fairly special yourself if you are contemplating marriage.’ She marvelled at her own composure.

He laughed without humour and abruptly got to his feet. ‘There will be no love in the marriage I’m considering, mutual respect but not love.’

Serenity walked forward to help him clear the table. ‘Don’t be silly. You must love her or you couldn’t possibly think of spending a lifetime with her.’

'Indeed I can think of it. In fact love is the one ingredient I do not want in my marriage.’

Serenity picked up her cup and saucer, then put it down in the same spot. He wasn’t fooling, he was serious. She felt absurdly shaken and gazed at him with shocked grey eyes. ‘Why not? Why not love?’

‘Been there, done that, next question.’ His voice was harsh.

‘Don’t be flippant. What do you mean? That you’ve been in love and it didn’t work out. Perhaps she wasn’t the right girl.’

‘Oh, yes, she was the right girl. I built this house for her. Don’t you think it's a nice house?’

‘Yes, yes I do,’ Serenity said, a little uncertainly. There was something here that she was missing. In a flash, Hudson had changed from the pleasant, if annoying, smiling conversationalist to a granite man with a hard expression and challenging cynical eyes.

‘Glad you like it.’ He picked up the tray and walked through to the kitchen. ‘The phone is through there, or if you prefer more privacy, use my office; it's at the head of the stairs.’

‘I’m only ringing the insurance company,’ Serenity said slowly. ‘Why didn’t you marry her, if she was the right girl?’

‘She died,’ he replied flatly. ‘Do you want me to find the number for you?’

‘No, thank you.’ Serenity hurried through the door and took a deep breath. Whew! Her hand was shaking as she searched for the number. How could she ever have thought he was kind? His voice might have been without emotion, but anger flared in his eyes as if ... as if he
blamed
the poor girl for dying. As if he
hated
her for spoiling his plans.

When Serenity returned to the kitchen, she found him wiping the bench. ‘I could have rinsed those through.’

‘Oh, I’m housetrained; the minor problems of fending for myself don’t trouble me. Don’t take the job out of a mistaken idea that I need rescuing. I don’t need anyone to feel sorry for me. No woman is indispensable in my life. Remember that if you do decide to stay.’

‘I don't feel in the least sorry for you,’ Serenity said sharply.

‘That’s good.’ He laughed, his good humour suddenly restored. ‘Tell you what, we’ll make a bargain. I won’t make a pass at you if you promise you won’t make a pass at me.’

Her grey eyes flashed. 'I'll give it to you in writing if you like. What makes you think you’re irresistible?’

‘Oh, I’ve had my offers.' His hazel eyes were lit with laughter. ‘If you had fended off as many eager females as I have, you’d be wary too. I’ve got a lot to offer. I’m well-heeled, come from an impeccable background, and with due modesty I think I'm reasonably attractive.’

She knew he was teasing her, but couldn’t resist saying tartly, ‘Not to me, you’re not.’

He roared laughing. ‘Such devastating honesty. I find you completely fascinating.’

‘And I find you completely infuriating,’ she flung at him.

‘That could change. Come on, we’ll ride out to the river and see the horses. Every woman has her price.’

Tight-lipped, she followed him out the back door and across to the stables. She wanted to yell at him to keep his rotten horse, but as she climbed on the yard rail and watched him catch and saddle the horses, she knew she wasn’t going to do that. He was right that everyone had a price, and he didn’t know that he had already offered hers. She relaxed as she regained her composure, and could even smile as he came towards her leading the horses. He thought he was so smart, yet he didn’t know she had already made up her mind to stay on the Bar 2. Her mother had lived here, and her grandparents, and Hudson had said these stations rarely changed hands, so maybe she would meet the man whose faded photograph was wrapped in fine tissue-paper.

As she slid down to the ground, he handed her the reins. ‘Hold these a minute.’

She stroked the fine arched neck of the smaller horse. ‘I hope you’re mine, you lovely thing.’

‘Yes, I'll give you Misty; you need a quiet mount if you haven’t ridden for a while.’

‘Thanks. What a fabulous saddle.' She examined the intricate carving.

‘A real Mexican saddle. My father brought it home when I was a teenager. Thought you might appreciate it; it’s as comfortable as a rocking chair to sit on. Here, you'd better wear this, otherwise you'll be burnt to a crisp.’

She turned towards him, still holding the horses, and he put a white cowboy hat on her fair hair and pulled the cord to fit snugly under her chin. ‘White for purity,’ he commented with a grin.

‘Thank you.’

‘For the hat, or the remark?’ Suddenly serious, he dropped his hands lightly on to her shoulders. ‘You do love this John of yours, don’t you, Serenity?’

Annoyed, she felt herself colour. ‘Yes, I do, I told you that.’

‘Good.’ His eyes held hers with an unnerving scrutiny. ‘I wouldn’t have you here otherwise. I don’t want complications in my life.’

‘I can’t answer for you, but I promise you, you’ll never be a complication in my life,’ she said crushingly.

He grinned and flung an arm across her shoulders, giving her a hug. ‘I have a feeling we’re going to be good friends, Serenity. I find it a stimulating thought. I can tease you, flirt with you if I want to, and all with perfect immunity . . .’

‘Take your hands off me. I don’t believe in body-contact sports.’

He smiled wickedly as he took the reins of his horse from her. ‘You don’t think that was a pass, I hope. Little lady, when I make a pass at you, you’ll be in no danger of not knowing what I’m doing.’

Ignoring him, Serenity gathered in her reins, slipped her foot into the stirrup, and mounted in one fluid movement. He was right, the saddle was the epitome of comfort.