The Rouseabout Girl (6 page)

‘For you, Paula. You deserve this for all your trouble tonight.’ With a dazzling smile Paula accepted the glass he handed to her.

‘What’ll you have—Lanie?’ She caught the cool note in his tone, the way he said her name as if it hurt him to pronounce it. He could scarcely ignore her, she reflected crossly, but having her here tonight gave him no joy,
anyone could see that! Aloud she said quietly, ‘Just a sherry, please.’

He crossed the room to hand her the goblet and once again she noticed the hard expression in his eyes.

Paula went to stand at his side, her gaze roving proudly over the firelit room and beautifully appointed table. ‘Aren’t you going to say it, Jard? Didn’t she do
well?

The laughing, provocative face upturned to Jard, Lanie thought, was demanding attention, praise,
appreciation—or love? Now where had that thought come from? These people were strangers to her, all of them, except Sandy who in some odd fashion already seemed to her to be someone she could trust, in spite of his misleading information.

Could it be the firelight, she wondered, that lent Jard’s face that stern unrelenting look? His fiat tones gave nothing away. ‘You sure saved our life.’

Paula’s excited expression died away. Her eyes dropped, the dark lashes veiling her expression. Had the other girl expected a warmer welcome in view of all her careful preparation tonight? Lanie wondered.

Around her the talk was becoming general, topics that were as far removed from her own interests as another world. The state of the stock markets, aerial topdressing, the hill at the back of the station that was due for a burn. There were discussions regarding horses, mares and foals, mention of a blacksmith, a new vet in the district. The long drive, the sherry, the warmth of the firelit room combined to make her head begin to buzz, but through it all one thing seemed clear. Jard was the head of this small kingdom and they all deferred to his judgment. Clearly the great white chief was in command and rebellion of any sort would not be tolerated. His warning, coolly delivered to her, echoed in her mind with painful clarity.
‘
If you’re going to work for me, you’d better be good
!’

As she sipped her
sherry
she took in Jard’s tall figure. Even his stance was that of the man in command. There was about him an autocratic air, his whole bearing that of a man of substance and authority. Hadn’t she felt the force of his dominant personality from their moment of meeting? Now at last she understood the reason. Not that he appeared to throw his weight about, she had to admit, watching his attentive expression as the head shepherd reported to him on station matters during his absence.

All at once she became aware that Sandy had dropped down at her side on the deep settee. She turned towards him impulsively. ‘Tell me, Sandy. I had no idea how things really were here. Jard owns this whole property, doesn’t he? He’s a big runholder and this is the station homestead—it must be!’

‘Sure is, lass.’

'But why,’ she cried exasperatedly, ‘didn’t you tell me?’

Sandy's weathered, lined features puckered in a rueful grin. ‘Couldn’t risk losing you, that’s why! To be truthful, there were certain personal reasons too, a little
plan of mine I’m hoping might come off
—
’ He broke
off. ‘But we won’t go into that! Let’s just say I had a hunch that you’d fill the bill and what’s
more
, you’d be glad that you took the job down here!’ His eyes were twinkling in a leathery face. ‘Even if I didn’t go into too many details about the acreage of Rangimarie!’

Lanie eyed him reprovingly, but she couldn’t quite subdue the glimmer of amusement in her eyes. ‘How many acres?’

‘Five thousand odd, that’s counting the hill country at the back of the station—but don’t let it throw you,’ his grin was warm and friendly, ‘we’re a small outfit around here mealwise, except when the odd visitor turns up.’ Did she imagine the sudden hardening of his tone? ‘Like tonight! Why not look on your spell here as a holiday?’ He shot her a glance from those surprisingly alert eyes, ‘Right?’

A reluctant smile tugged at her lips. ‘I guess so.
’
It must be the effect of the sherry coursing through her veins together with the warmth of the firelit room, she decided, that was causing her to find the decision so easy to make. Or could it be the challenge of the master of Rangimarie? He was standing at the other end of the room and she felt sure that he was deliberately ignoring her, leaving Sandy the duty of entertaining her on this, her first night at their home. That attitude of Jard’s, she promised herself, was something she was going to change. Somehow she would
make
him notice her, and what was more, come to recognise her as a worthwhile, caring sort of girl despite her youth and inexperience and the utterly mistaken opinion he appeared to have formed regarding her. She would need to be on her guard, though, for there was one thing, she admitted reluctantly, that he did have, besides his wildly attractive appearance. Never before had she encountered a man who projected such a powerful aura of masculinity. What a triumph it would be to force him to admit that he had been dead wrong in his snap judgment of her capabilities. Turn her back on his job? Go rushing back to town simply because conditions here hadn’t transpired to be those she had imagined? Never!

‘You know something?’ she told Sandy.
‘I
’m going to enjoy the experience!’ But what she really meant was teaching Jard a well-deserved lesson and not just the matter of a different type of work and a fresh environment.

Sandy let his breath on a long sigh of relief. ‘That’s my girl!’ The words fell into a pool of silence.
‘I
t’s a deal! Shake on it!’ The next moment she became aware of Jard’s watchful glance. Could it be the bickering shadows of the f
l
ames, she wondered, that lent his face that tight, angry expression? Surely he didn’t imagine—he couldn’t
—
On an impulse she snatched her soft
hand from Sandy’s firm grasp. It was ridiculous, the way she was letting Jard get under her skin!

A little later, seated beside Sandy at the long polished table, Lanie felt glad of the older man’s championship tonight. Her gaze bickered over gleaming silverware and the fine china of the dinner service that, like the furniture in the room, she suspected to have been brought out by sailing ship from England a century earlier by a pioneer family who had sacrificed the comforts of their life to hack a way through virgin bush on the other side of the world.

As the meal proceeded she had to admit that
P
aula wasn’t, as the saying
w
ent, just a pretty face. The chilled honeydew melon was delicious, the beef Wellington perfectly cooked and the tamarillo dessert served with rich dairy cream had a melt-in-the-mouth quality. The silver candelabrum shed its mellow light over the wine bottles, caught gleams in the table surface and made Paula look more beautiful than ever, Lanie thought. She really was attractive, she mused wistfully, with all the power that beauty gives a woman.

Jard, seated at the head of the table with Paula beside him, appeared to be entranced by Paula’s conversation. The two seemed oblivious of both Sandy and Lanie, and once again Lanie formed the impression that Sandy wasn’t enamoured of Paula’s charms. Odd, she wondered how any man could feel that way—but then the other girl spared scarcely a glance for Jard’s father. All her attention was given to the man at her side. If this was the way girls reacted to Jard’s undeniable masculine magnetism, hanging on his every word, gazing up at him with rapt attention, then, Lanie decided once again, it was high time that he was taught a lesson.

When the meal came to an end, Mike bade the others goodnight and went out of the room. Lanie surmised that he was going back to his own quarters. Paula moved to the stereo and soon the pulsing beat of dance music flowed through the room. She threw Jard a meaningful, laughing look, tapping her foot in time with the rhythm, but he was standing by the sideboard once again, reading correspondence. A little at a loss as to what to do, Lanie began to stack the plates together. All at once she realised Paula had come to join her. ‘I suppose you did have some references from the employment agency?’ The other girl’s strident tones were reduced to a whisper.

‘I didn’t come through the agency.’ The next moment Lanie realised she had g
i
ven herself away.

‘Where on earth,’
Paula
asked sneeringly, ‘did Jard find you, then?’ The words implied, Lane thought hotly, that she had been scarcely worth the trouble of bringing here.

‘It wasn’t Jard.’ Lanie’s soft lips tightened. ‘Sandy offered me the job.’

Paula's arched brows rose incredulously. ‘Sandy?’

‘That
’
s right.’ Lanie was clattering plates together
. ‘I
happened to meet up with him in town and he offered me the temporary work.’

‘That’s just like him. He’d fall for any soft touch. I suppose he was feeling sorry for you?’

Lanie, however, had had more than she could endure of this inquisition.
‘I
was sorry for
him,
’
she flashed. ‘He
was stuck for domestic help here,
’
so she threw the
other girl a challenging glance, ‘here I am
!
’

Paula’s mouth twisted with the derisive expression Lanie was fast coming to know. ‘You’ve never tried domestic work before, though, have you?’ Her glance went to Lanie’s soft hands. ‘
Office
work would be more in your line.’ All at once her tone was urgent and demanding. ‘Tell me, why did you come here
really
?’

‘Does it matter?’ Lanie left her and moved towards Sandy, who was enjoying a pipe from his deep seat near the fire. ‘The kitchen, please?’ she enquired with a smile. ‘Where is it?’

‘Down the passage and first on the left
—
come along, I’ll show you.’ Picking up a candlestick from the dresser, he led the way.

‘How long will the power cut last, do you think?’ She carried a pile of plates in her arms as she followed him out of the room.

‘Your guess is as good as mine. Could be an hour or two, could be all night. Here we are!’ He flung open a door and stood looking around him for a place on which to set down the candlestick.

Lanie, peering over his shoulder, saw his difficulty only too well. For even in the dimness she discerned that dishes, pots and pans were flung haphazardly over every available surface. The kitchen looked modern enough, what she could see of it, for clearly Paula had concentrated her energies on her culinary efforts and left the cooking utensils to chance—and the new cook!

‘Helluva mess around here,’ Sandy said under his breath. ‘No use trying to do anything about it tonight, lass, not in this light. Tell you what—I’ll give you an early call in the morning. No need to put on breakfast until nine o’clock. You’ll have swags of time to whack things into shape by then.’

Lanie gazed helplessly around her. ‘But
—
’

‘Okay, then,’ he conceded, ‘we’ll take the things off the table and shove the dirty stuff in the sink, if there’s any room. No use hoping
Paula will do anything about this lot. She’s not the sort to worry about things like that!’

Lanie was eyeing the yellow-painted room. A massive deep-freeze cabinet ran along one wall, there was a refrigerator, a stainless steel sink bench beneath the clutter of food-smeared crockery. ‘Couldn’t we just put away the foodstuffs?’ she pleaded.

‘If you really want to.’ Together they carried out from the dining room milk, cream, sugar, cheese and biscuits. Sandy pushed it
all
out of sight in various cupboards. ‘You can sort it all out in the morning!’ he told her cheerfully. Lanie wished she felt as optimistic in the matter. Could this be the reason why the housekeeper had pleaded a headache? Lanie wondered. Really, one couldn’t blame her!

Try as she would, Sandy was not to be budged from his edict. ‘Easy to cope with in daylight,’ he told her, ‘but not tonight. You’ve had a long day. What you need now is a good night’s sleep.’

‘Well, if you say so. I think I’ll slip away now.’ Not, she reflected, that anyone would notice whether she was in the other room or not.

Long after she had got into bed she lay wakeful as the events of the long day chased one another through her mind. Maybe, she thought at last, if she read for a while she could settle down, banish from her thoughts Jard's compelling face with his set angry expression. It wasn’t as if he
mattered
, yet deep down she knew that in some inexplicable way, he did!

Slowly the time crept on. She must have dozed off, for
suddenly
she awoke to a lighted room. Of course, she had left the switch of the bedside light turned on. Now the bridal pictures had sprung to life. Lanie couldn’t help giggling to herself. There were so many brides, and all looking so fatuously pleased with themselves.

All at once she remembered the cluttered kitchen that would take her at least an hour to clean up and' must be faced in the morning before she could even begin to get familiar with her surroundings.
But it needn
’
t be in the morning.

Swiftly she dropped her feet to the fluffy sheepskin rug beside the bed and pulled on her old white candlewick robe. Opening the door, she peered towards the homestead, but there seemed no glow of light in the back of the house where the kitchen was situated.
And if she was ever so quiet ... The next minute she was out of the door and running across the dew-wet grass on bare feet. Her hair flowed loosely around her shoulders but no matter. There would be no one to see her.

Cautiously she opened the kitchen door, closed it behind her and put a hand to the light switch. The scene that sprang into sight before her eyes was daunting. Stacks of plates balanced precariously on sink bench and table, there were pots and pans with congealed food stuck to the rims and everywhere dishes, dishes of all description. She couldn’t decide where to make a start, then she pushed the sleeves of her robe above her elbows, emptied the sink of cold greasy water and turned on the hot tap. Before long she had piled plates and dishes on the draining rack and a portion of the long steel bench became visible. Absorbed in her task, she hadn’t heard the opening of the door until a sound alerted her and she swung around to find herself staring straight into Jard’s eyes.

In that second some unseen force tingled between them, powerful and breathtaking—at least it was to her. It was a moment or so before she could drag herself from the impact.