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Gladly she turned her back on it, guiding the stock on to higher ground. The dogs were working steadily and Greytor too seemed to have realised the importance of the occasion. Rupert’s distinct whistles could be heard even if she couldn’t make out his figure through the rain. There was no danger to the stock at the moment, but if the rain continued at this rate the bank line in this low-lying paddock would soon be breached. The sheep were only too pleased to move to higher ground and Rupert slammed the gate shut behind them with a loud thump. Frances used her fingers to clear the rain from her face.

‘I noticed Ian still has stock on his flat—we’ll go and shift it for him. It’s a wonder he isn’t there already. He could be down further as he’s got a bigger line of the river. O.K.?’ asked Rupe.

Frances nodded. She was surprised how snug she felt inside the oilskin even if her face and hands were wet.

They had to go through the boundary gate higher up and then come down again to get on to Ian’s land.

‘Remind me to shift the toolbox later,’ shouted Rupe, and Frances nodded. She glanced behind her. Surely Rupe didn’t think the river would come this far, she reasoned. Sharp whistles sent her into action. Scamp streamed away, this time racing his mother in a wide cast. Ian had a lot of sheep down this side and they had to go over the ground to make sure none were missed. In the steady downpour that cut so much of visibility it was very difficult. When they had finished that paddock Rupert led on to the next and by the time they had completed it Frances felt rather worn. At one stage she heard the roar of Ian’s motorbike in a neighbouring paddock—so he must be aware of them and glad of their help. Ridiculously she felt heartened just to know he was near. The next paddock, Rupert explained, was generally left to the last as the bank began to rise steeply so sheep could get to higher ground.

‘We might as well clear it. Ian’s still over the other ten-acre. Then we’ll go back to Gam’s and have a hot drink. Reckon we’ll need it.’

Some of the sheep had begun moving to higher ground and Rupe went up to the cliffs to clear them while Frances went to open the gate. She was becoming chilled now and her ankle began to ache. She cleared the sheep on her side and as Rupe’s still weren’t through went up to see the reason for the delay. A couple of sheep skittered out of her way and she looked up, surprised. She could make out the big horse Rupe rode right at the end of the cliff. Its neck appeared to be arched over and its legs strained against some unseen force.

Desperately Frances called to Rupe. She wasn’t sure what had happened, but obviously part of the bank had given way. She flung herself off Greytor and approached carefully, calling Rupe’s name.

‘Careful, Frances—stop there. The whole damn bank may go!’ Rupert’s voice was urgent. ‘I’m trapped by part of the landslide.’ Looking down, she gasped in horror.

Rupe had one foothold on the bank and one hand firmly caught in the bridle of the horse. The bridle was trapped by a section of the cliff. ‘Right, I’ll get help! Hang on!’ Which was a silly remark, she thought as she edged back. She spoke quietly to the big horse, shivers running along his muscles. While he held and the bridle held Rupert was safe. So long as the rest of the bank didn’t give way and crash into the force of the river. Agonised, she wasn’t sure what to do first. She knew there was a rope in the toolbox, but by the time she reached it, Rupert could have run out of luck. Dimly she heard the roar of the motorbike. She flung herself on to Greytor with a great deal more speed than elegance and raced the horse towards the fence. Not being familiar with the land, she guided the horse towards the sound. Obviously Ian hadn’t heard her. A fence was coming up and there was no gate on this side. Deciding to jump it, she gathered Greytor evenly, then lifted herself as they cleared it neatly. Ian must have seen her, as he was speeding now to meet her. She reined in as he pulled up. Quickly she outlined the situation.

‘Can you get the ropes from the box—if you jump it will be faster than me on the bike,’ said Ian. ‘I’ll get down to Rupe.’

He roared away and Frances turned Greytor back towards the fence. Again they cleared it easily and she sighed with relief. The next paddock was becoming very puggy and she had a bad moment when Greytor slipped a little on impact. She pulled her along, relieved to feel the horse find her footing immediately. The next fence was taken easily and racing along they soon reached the box. Frances scrabbled at it, her fingers wet with cold, and the box proved hard to open. With a final click it opened, and she grabbed the neatly wound rope and a wire anchor pin. She loaded up the horse and set her again at the fences. It was a nightmare ride back to the spot, the rain lashing her directly and making the sight of the fences loom large. Frances thanked her lucky stars she had done a lot of jumping horses when a youngster. Arriving at the site, she could see Ian stroking the big horse, its muscles becoming rigid. Without raising his voice he told her what to do. She approached cautiously after tying one end of the rope to a tree as Ian had instructed. He took the rope and wire anchor and threaded it through, telling her to go back to the tree—‘Hold on to the rope, darling, at least if the bank goes you’ll be O.K.’ She did as he said, then watched in anguish as he tied one part of the rope round himself then made a lasso of the other. She saw the loop fly over the bank and knew a moment of panic when the big horse reared and backed. If he caused too much motion the whole cliff could go, and Rupe and Ian would be killed unless they were very lucky.

Frances tore out, speaking quietly, knowing that she had to steady the horse. She had no way of knowing whether Ian’s first lasso had caught Rupe or not. If it hadn’t, it was doubtful if he had been able to survive the plunging of the horse. It seemed a lifetime as she reached the horse and stood on the edge of the bank, thankfully grasping the rope in one hand and stroking the frightened animal, its eyes white, rolling red in its head, its velvet muzzle crusted with saliva. She could see its fear easing as she softly leant against it, the contact with her body causing great shudders to rack it. She sighed with relief when she saw Ian pushing Rupert ahead of him and held out one hand, still calming the horse. As Ian clambered up and released Rupe from the stranglehold on his wrist Frances edged the big horse back slowly and softly, all too vividly aware that the least movement could trigger the slide further. Ian carried Rupert to a safe distance.

‘Stay with him. I’ll get the car.’ He roared into the paddock and Frances flopped wearily down beside Rupert. The horse had galloped off to the far side as soon as she released him, but Greytor stood patiently where she had left her. She called to her and was pleased when the mare came over to her. She reached into her saddlebag for a thermos of tea and held it to Rupe’s mouth. He shuddered and gasped, the warmth shocking him, then drank thirstily. By the time Ian arrived he was sitting up, declaring himself fine, and it was only on his brother-in-law’s insistence that he abandoned the horse to ride in the car. Frances wearily climbed on to Greytor and went to get the big horse, Duke.

So much for Ian’s concern for her, she thought ruefully. She pulled Duke along, riding steadily in the rain after having neatly coiled the rope by the tree. The wire anchor pin could get lost, she knew it was easily replaced. Nothing would make her go on that dangerous ground. The fact that she had done so to save Ian and Rupe she pushed away from her. Duke moved slowly and she was glad to reach the outskirts of the paddock nearing the side wing of Coppers. Somehow she couldn’t face Ian. She was heading on to home when Ian came driving out to her.

‘Where do you think you’re going?’ His voice was angry. He reached for her, pulling her out of the saddle. Weakly she leant against him, conscious of his strength and her own need. He dumped her unceremoniously into the Land Rover, pulled the saddles and bridles from the horses and flung the gear into the back. The engine was gunned into a snarling roar and they lurched and bumped their way back to the house. He slammed the vehicle up to the back porch so she would not get wet. She laughed weakly, clad in the dripping oilskins, then he laughed too. Frances stepped down, feeling worn but slightly lighthearted, then removed her heavy outer gear. Amazingly she was still dry. Ian looked over her to make sure before unsnapping his own oilskins. Frances mopped her face with a tiny wisp of handkerchief from a pocket and Ian chuckled briefly. He pulled out a large one of his own and tenderly dried her face, outlining the edge of her eyes and lips.

Reaction was setting in now and Frances started to tremble. Ian gathered her against him, stilling her quivering limbs in the hard strength of his own body. She felt reassured and comforted. Then his mouth claimed hers in a tentative, gentle kiss.

‘Come on, my love. Gam will have hot drinks ready for us.’ He pushed her ahead of him and they walked into the kitchen.

Rupert was lying on the colonial couch along one wall. His wrist was strapped, but his colour was back to normal. 'Gam was sitting beside him feeding him with a hot whisky. She poured some of the heated drinks out for them and Ian passed a glass to Frances. When Rupert was more recovered he told them what had happened. ‘A couple of sheep had gone towards the bank, so I followed them. They turned back and everything would have been O.K. if two great paradise ducks hadn’t suddenly flown up practically right in front of Duke. He reared and over I went. The impetus sent that part of the bank flying and I grabbed the reins as it went. Thank goodness the reins looped themselves round my wrist or I would have been a goner! Then Frances came and she had the sense to get Ian and the rope. Come to think of it, where did you get that from so quickly?’

Frances explained briefly and Ian retold his part, then added how Frances had put herself at risk to quieten the horse when everything was so nearly lost. Gam listened quietly. When the explanations were over she said, Tan, the fire’s going in the drawing room. Take Frances in there and I’ll drive Rupe home.’

‘Yes, ma’am,’ answered Ian. He helped Gam get Rupert back to the Land Rover. Rupe appeared to have suffered no ill effects, but it would be necessary to run him to the doctor to check his swollen and bruised wrist. Ian rang Jenny and explained a little, making light of the danger.

‘I should have gone!’ put in Frances. ‘I could have minded the baby.’

‘They’ll take the baby with them and Gam will go too. Much easier that way. Gam loves the wee lass, and she loves Jenny. Don’t forget she’s known her since she’s been the same size.’ He bent down and flung a large log on to the enormous fireplace and a shower of sparks flung up. Frances sank back in the couch and Ian wheeled it up to the fire, cutting off the rest of the room.

Frances felt warmed and relaxed. She was home. This would be another of those bitter-sweet memories to polish in years to come. Outside the greyness of the rain still steadily fell, forming a curtain to block off the trees and the farm around them. She looked at the fire dancing and flickering. The man beside her stared into the fire too, apparently lost in thought. The flames sent shadows chasing up and down the angles of his face. Frances studied him eagerly, delighting in the little highlights the fire revealed. He sensed her scrutiny and turned to her. He looked at her beauty, the red-gold curls glinting like polished copper in the flickering light, the pale skin showing the high cheekbones of her face, the soft red-lipped mouth, then his eyes were caught by the soft expression of love in her wide hazel eyes.

He bent to her, kissing her gently, feeling her instant response. Frances ached with longing, but already her heart told her to stop. She knew she could not bear the cold, shuttered look he would wear as once again he rejected her. She stiffened in his arms, dreading to look at his face. He held her closely, stroking her, calling her his darling. Frances dared a look at him. His face was full of light, and the expression in his eyes was a blaze of love.

Sighing softly with joy, she rested easily against him, offering her mouth for his kiss. There was a strange content and acceptance about it. Gone was the frantic searching, now they could be totally open to each other. The kiss deepened into a flame of fire which seemed to fuse them together.

Ian put her back gently on to the couch. ‘Don’t move, my darling!’ He bent and kissed her fleetingly, then strode quickly towards his study. In a few moments he was back, a small box in his hand. He removed a ring from it. Tenderly kissing each finger until he came to the third finger of the left hand, he slipped the ring into position.

Frances gazed at him bemused, unable to fully appreciate the situation. She twisted the ring on her finger. It was a lovely old ring of two emeralds and two diamonds sparkling brilliantly like the flashing of water.

‘Frances, I love you. Will you marry me?’

Frances noticed the strange shyness Ian seemed to feel.

‘Oh, Ian, I love you!’ She reached up and pulled the dark head down to her, kissing him hungrily. For some moments there was a silence in the room, broken only by the flare of the fire and the sharp sparks suddenly shooting. The brilliance danced on the emeralds and diamonds sending a band of colour as Frances cupped her hand around the dark curls of Ian’s head.

‘I take it that means yes to my proposal. My darling water baby! I’ve been such a blind idiot. I thought I was incapable of love for any woman and I nearly lost you. I saw you on the bank this morning when I knew that at any moment you might be swept away from me, then I realised that without you life would be like a desert without water. I love you, I love you, I love you.’

His kisses claimed her again, and it wasn’t till the noise of the Land Rover disturbed the peace that they stood up again. When Gam came in her face lit up at the happiness she saw. Ian held up Frances’ hand and the beautiful ring sparkled in the light.

‘Ah, Mary’s ring! I was beginning to think it wouldn’t see the light of day. You know how absolutely delighted I am.’ She kissed Ian and Frances warmly.

‘Welcome home, my dear! I know you’ll be very happy here together.’