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‘I’ll leave the Christmas presents here. If I hide them at home the boys will ferret them out in no time. A canoe and a saddle are not the easiest things to hide in a modern house.’ She smiled briefly. ‘Besides, you must see Gam. She was disappointed you didn’t come over the other night.’

Frances was busy-negotiating the sharp angle turn from the main road into Coppers drive. The old trees had grown so tall the outer branches almost formed a tunnel of green. She followed the gravel-lined drive as it snaked its way towards the homestead finally opening out into a parklike vista with the house on the rise. It was a two-storey weatherboard structure, obviously colonial in its sturdy strength, steep roofline and dormer windows. It lay peacefully in the sun surrounded by its green lawn, a band of bright dahlias in one corner. The house was painted white with facings of green and a deep grey roof. The northwest corner had a large turret peeping skyward above a roundshaped cantilevered window.

Frances felt her heart beat faster. The house could have been the house of her dreams, welcoming her in the sunlight. She drew in her breath sharply, struggling to appear composed. As she stepped from the car the noise of dogs barking brought Gam out to meet them. Together they lifted the canoe out and deposited it in the garage.

‘Ian can put it and the saddle away later—let’s have a drink.’

‘I must ring the boys and tell them to do the potatoes and carrots for tea,’ put in Jenny. She entered so casually that Frances was forced to follow, curious in spite of herself. They sat down in a sunroom-type porch filled with shelves containing beautiful pot plants. Gam returned after a moment with a tea-tray and Frances couldn’t help but notice the fine bone china of the tea-set. She was enjoying herself as Gam explained some of the history of the house.

They were just finishing their tea when the sound of a farm bike could be heard. Frances steeled herself to act naturally when Ian walked into the room shortly afterwards. However, she couldn’t help but grin at his appearance; he looked filthy from head to foot, with grass stuck to his curly hair and shirt. His eyes were ringed with red and looked sore.

‘Apologies for being the original hayseed,’ he joked.

‘Did you start cutting the Big Flat today?’ queried Jenny as she poured her brother a cup of tea.

‘Yes! And we finished it too!’ he added, obviously pleased. ‘We’ll do Rupe’s south river flats tomorrow and then cut over here.’

‘Come over for a swim later,’ put in Jenny.

‘I might do that. I’ve still got some bookwork to do, but I’ve been putting it off so long another day won’t matter. How did you get on at the doc’s?’ Ian asked.

‘Fine. Both well!’ Jenny grinned.

‘That’s a relief at any rate. I noticed the saddle and canoe for the boys out there. I guess you want them hidden for Christmas?’

‘Please, Ian. Now I must get home.’ They said goodbye and went out to the car. Frances eased herself into the driver’s seat, acutely conscious of Ian’s glance. She prayed she wouldn’t grind the gears in front of him and was relieved when she manoeuvred the car quite neatly. She concentrated on driving the car, resolutely putting out of her mind the picture of the man she had left behind.

Jenny said idly, ‘You must go to see Gam one morning, she’ll show you over the house.’

‘I’d like that. The sunroom is super.’

‘I’d still rather have mine,’ Jenny laughed merrily. ‘It’s just as well, isn’t it! I know quite a few of my friends like old furniture and so on, and Ian’s nuts on antiques, by the way. He’s always on the lookout for bits and pieces.’

They arrived home then, and the three boys rushed out to greet their mother. They were very pleased with themselves as Greg and Ivan had peeled the potatoes and Thad had prepared carrots and cabbage. It was not long before dinner was sizzling on the stove. Rupe was showering when they arrived, and Frances realised that he was probably just as tired as Ian.

After tea she pulled out the sweets for the boys and they were overjoyed at the unexpected treat. They went off to bed and she settled down with a book. Rupe had made his wife go to bed straight after tea and they sat companionably as Rupe entered up notes in his farming log.

‘I thought Ian might have been over for a swim,’ put in Rupe. ‘Doesn’t look like it now. I’ll probably have one soon—it’s hot, isn’t it!’

Frances had been longing for a swim, but after the last occasion she was determined not to be seen in the pool by Ian. She realised it was eight-thirty and twilight was just closing in, as Rupe had said; obviously Ian must have changed his mind. She changed into her bikini and slipped into the pool. The water struck cold against her warm skin, but once she adjusted she realised that the pool temperature was quite warm. She stretched out and floated lazily, letting the water lap against the side of her body. A contented smile drifted across her face. When a slight splash rippled across the pool she thought it was Rupe joining her and opened her eyes lazily, taking time to adjust to the twilight.

‘Hi, water baby!’ murmured a soft deep voice inches from her, and with a gasp Frances reacted. She choked on the water and Ian patted her on the back apologising for startling her.

‘You looked like a water nymph floating like Ophelia in the twilight.’ He lifted her up, easily putting her on the edge of the pool. He proceeded to swim a few lengths while Frances recovered herself. Finally he too let the water hold him and he glanced over at her. She was acutely conscious of her near-nudity and slipped into the water.

They swam together, not speaking, yet each aware of the other. There was a bitter-sweetness for Frances about the swim, as the sky darkened and the first stars glinted. It was something of an anti-climax when Rupe joined them, shattering the fragile mood. They swam together easily now and it was almost as though the earlier antagonism had gone. After ten minutes Frances realised she was getting cold, so she hauled herself out and ran to get changed. She showered briefly as the hot water for once had run out and she was made even colder by the cold shower. As it was the summer she had no warm nightwear, so she put on a jacket over her pretty white nightie and slipped into bed. She debated whether to make herself a cup of tea, but she had heard Ian and Rupe talking there, after her shower. One thing she did not want was for Ian to see her in her night attire again. She shivered and sneezed, realising that her hair was still very wet. She looked at her blow dryer, shivering, but she was too cold to move.

A knock on the door sounded and she heard a teacup rattle, as she called, ‘Come in.’

‘Rupe told me to bring you one. I've just taken Jenny one.’ Ian stood there and handed her a steaming hot cup of tea. His glance took in her frozen form and wet hair and he walked into her bathroom and grabbed a towel. He waited until she finished the tea before drawing her cold body against his, his hands towelling her hair dry.

‘Stupid little water baby! Look at you! Even the boys would have more sense.’

He rubbed fiercely at her hair, until the blood ran again in her scalp. Weakly she thanked him, and he threw the sodden towel in the direction of the bathroom, picked up the empty tea-cup and swung out. Frances lay in bed, very shaken by this treatment, until she realised that he would have done the same for anyone. Grimacing ruefully to herself, she turned over and slept dreamlessly.

The household rose early, the boys getting themselves dressed for school while Jenny prepared breakfast. Frances had put on a pair of green shorts and an old tee-shirt and her hair glinted in the light. She had brushed it hard that morning as Ian’s drying had left it a mass of tangles. Ian arrived as they were finishing breakfast, and apart from a glance which flickered over her, he had ignored her and spoke quickly to Rupe about the work in hand. Frances was glad to be able to escape to the farm. She walked to the garage and lifted the familiar saddle, blanket and bridle to the horse paddock fence.

Greytor stood quietly, letting her come up and slip the bridle over her head. She strapped it up, then spoke softly to Greytor as she led the grey mare to the fence. She straightened out the blanket, placing it carefully, then lifted the saddle into position. It was only a few minutes later that she rode round to the garage to check with Rupe on the last instructions. She listened closely as he explained what she had to do, unconsciously making a pleasant picture as she sat Greytor easily. Ian waited quietly as Rupe said farewell, so she waved a hand in his direction.

She had to shift one mob of sheep into a neighbouring paddock and as it was the first time she had done it on her own she was hoping she would manage easily. The dogs gambolled and frisked beside her, Scamp and Fay running ahead. Frances felt quite ridiculously pleased when two of Ian’s dogs joined her. However, they abandoned her on hearing the roar of Ian’s bike, so she was left with just Fay and Scamp. Greatly to her delight young Scamp helped round up the sheep and they went through the gate as Rupert trundled past on the big tractor. He waved and she acknowledged his presence with a ready smile, pleased that she had everything under control.

Frances completed the shifting and shut the gate behind her carefully. She cantered on down to the river and was relieved to see most things in order. Greytor knew when she turned her head for home that they were almost through and she sped up. There was a fallen tree in the way and she jumped it instinctively. It was only about two feet high and Greytor cleared it with plenty of room. Frances leant forward and patted Greytor; evidently the horse had been jumped before. When she came to the gate she was tempted to jump it, but decided she had better check with Jenny first. Greytor was such a lovely easy horse Jenny wouldn’t like to be told she’d been jumping fences without checking!

When Frances reached the house Jenny had smoko ready for her to take to the men. She gave her a quick drink before she packed the thermos in the saddlebag and tied the food bag on too. Greytor seemed surprised at having to go out again, but she submitted patiently and they rode down to the south river flats.

The hay paddock was being cut steadily, as neat bands fell from the machine. The big machine trundled slowly along and Frances watched as Ian turned it at the far fence. It gobbled its way steadily towards her and Greytor moved restlessly, not liking its relentless approach. Frances swung herself down and flung an arm round her neck, and Greytor nickered gently. She unstrapped the bags and deposited them by the post, then expertly flung herself up on to Greytor again. Both men looked grimy already and she noticed they both had goggles on today. Rupe waved as she lifted her hand, then rode back to the farm. Behind her she heard the machine stop and was glad she had cleared off so quickly.

Once she arrived back at the farmhouse she removed Greytor’s saddle, looped her bridle round her neck and led her back into the horse paddock. Later, she knew, she would have to ride down with afternoon tea, but poor Greytor wouldn’t relish having the saddle on for so long in the heat.

Jenny had set the table for lunch and was busy cutting up a salad. Frances washed herself, then started on vacuuming the bedrooms, knowing that Jenny found that difficult. Shortly after twelve the men rode back on Ian’s bike, and she felt a quick pang of sympathy for them. It was very hot and sweat had made tiny muddy paths down their backs, which were reddened by the sun. Jenny insisted they wear hats in the afternoon and both nodded that they would.

Ian sat opposite Frances and she deliberately contributed to the conversation, determined not to let Ian’s presence throw her. It was more difficult than she knew, for his very earthiness seemed to touch a primeval instinct in her. She was glad when they left straight after the meal and her heartbeat could settle into a quiet rhythm again.

After lunch she cleared the dishes and sent Jenny off to her rest. It was extremely hot and she decided to have a swim now rather than later. After half an hour in the warm water she changed into her shorts and top again and prepared the smoko thermos. She put on a big sunhat to protect her from the glare. A glance at the temperature had told her it was twenty-eight degrees, and as she rode to the hay paddock she felt increasingly sorry for Rupe in the heat. She told herself she didn’t feel any sorrow for Ian; he deserved his discomfort, she thought tartly. They had just finished one line as she pulled up, so they stopped immediately. There were no trees in that paddock, so they stood in the shade of the machine and drank thirstily. Sweat glistened on their bare skin covered with grime, their goggle marks made strange white rings around their eyes. Both wiped themselves thankfully on the towel Jenny had wrapped round the thermos. They were too hot to say much, contenting themselves with drinking the hot tea. Frances stood patiently waiting to take back the flasks. Rupe told her they would be late back for tea. ‘Tell Jenny to put on extra for Ian. Gam’s away again, so he can eat with us!’

Ian’s eyes flicked at her, his face wearing a slightly mischievous look rather like Ivan the Terrible’s. He knew her discomfiture only too well, so she abruptly pulled her sunhat forward to disguise the colour she knew stained her cheeks. After ten minutes’ rest they gave her the now empty containers and climbed back to their machines. Greytor carefully picked her way across the sharp stubble, pausing here and there to snort as the flying dust struck her smooth velvet nostrils.

On her return the boys were running homewards from the school bus. Despite the heat they were full of enthusiasm to ride down to the flats to see the work in progress. All three were loud in their disgust at having to change first and having to have their homework, checked before going. All three disdained shirts and sped out to their horses. Frances heard the shouts of frustration as Greg’s fat old pony, full of cunning wisdom, resisted Greg’s attempts to catch him.

Evidently the pony had decided it was too hot a day to work and as soon as Greg approached one side he sped to the other. She was about to go to help him when Thad hauled his small brother up in front of him. Even from this distance Frances could hear Greg’s efforts at telling his pony what he thought of such behaviour. She smiled despite herself and went back to the house, where Jenny too was glancing out the window at the scene, Greg clutching Thad’s horse, the two small bodies moving to the motion. Beside them Ivan the Terrible made mock charges, veering away at the last moment, his high spirits very evident.