‘Maybe I just don’t like being a stand-in,’ she muttered, not quite realising how loudly the words emerged.
‘Stand-in? For what, may I ask?’ Con replied with a look of total confusion. ‘What are you on about, anyway?’
But Verna, shocked by her own indiscretion, wasn’t about to compound the error by repeating herself, much less by explaining her feelings to Con Bradley. It was bad enough, she thought, that he had. only to look at her to bring her pulse to a fever-pitch, without having him blatantly aware that she loved him. She shook her head stubbornly, not trusting herself to speak.
Con sat with one eyebrow raised as he studied her face, deliberately opening his countenance so that Verna couldn’t help but see it as comprehension dawned.
‘You’re jealous!’ He shouted the accusation with an incredulous burst of laughter, his entire face lighting up with the amazement of it. Verna felt herself go scarlet, and turned her face away even as she replied hotly:
‘I’m not! Don’t be ridiculous!’
‘The hell I won’t. You are so. You ... are ... jealous,’ he said quite deliberately. ‘Verna? You mean you ... no, of course you don’t .And his voice dropped away to a gentle, speculative rumble as he spoke almost to himself. ‘...and so you shouldn’t.’ Then his voice returned to normal as he leaped to his feet and stalked over to pour Verna a fresh cup of coffee. ‘O.K., I believe you.’
She turned around in her own disbelief, so sure that he now knew everything, and so unsure of how he would react.
‘You do? Well, thank you very much,’ she retorted. ‘And thank you for the coffee. Are you going now?’
‘Soon as you’re ready.’
I’ve already told you I’m busy at work,’ she said, but Con simply ignored her.
1 said I believed you about not being jealous,’ he said, ‘but this thing about working on Saturday is nonsense. You might as well come for a drive.’
"I am not coming anywhere with you, and I am not jealous!’ she shouted angrily.
‘So prove it; come along for the drive.’ Con sat back in his chair with a grin quirking about his mouth as if he was laughing at Verna and not trying hard enough to hide it.
‘I don’t have to prove anything to you,’ she said. ‘Now will you please just take “no” for an answer and get out of here!’
‘You are jealous,’ he replied with a malicious gleam in his eyes.
‘I’m not! I’m not, I’m not, I’m not!’ she cried.
‘Good,’ he replied. ‘So let’s get going before we waste the whole damned day arguing. Sheba’s already waiting, I see.’
From his angle he could see the car parked in front of the house, and Verna rose quickly and walked around to where she could also see the dark shape of her dog lying patiently on the back seat of Con’s car, which was parked with the back door wide open.
Flinging open the door, Verna charged out into the yard and rushed towards the car, shouting at the bewildered dog as she ran. ‘Sheba, you rotten little black mongrel, you get out of that car right now before I give you a licking you’ll never forget!’ she raged, oblivious of Con moving right along with her.
‘Sheba ... sit! Stay,’ his voice rumbled, and the dark shape lifted immediately to alertness, sitting proudly on the rear seat with tail thumping against the other door and long pink tongue dangling in a broad smile.
Verna stopped her harangue and stamped her foot angrily, turning on Con Bradley with eyes flaring in their rage. ‘How dare you? How dare you discipline my dog like that?’ she cried. ‘Oh ... what do you think you’re doing?’
Con shrugged casually. ‘Somebody’s got to train the great gook,’ he replied. ‘It was supposed to be a surprise, actually, but you’re a difficult person to plan surprises for. Why you couldn’t have just agreed to come along today as I asked you, I honestly don’t know.
‘Do you mean you’ve actually been training Sheba?’ Verna asked, eyes wide. ‘What have you been ... oh ... what a colossal nerve!’
‘Not really; just patience,’ he replied. ‘And being smarter than the dog, which helps a lot. Now why don’t you go get your bag and stuff and we’ll get on the road. When we stop for lunch I’ll show you how smart your dog really is.’
‘I thought I already told you ...’
‘And I’m telling you that I’ve just about had enough,’ he interrupted. ‘I do not like having my surprises spoiled by tantrum-throwing females. Now get in the house and get your handbag; you’re coming along today whether you want to or not.’
‘I won’t!’
‘You will,’ he said grimly. ‘Now are you coming by yourself ... or do I have to abduct you?’
‘You wouldn’t dare!’
‘Oh,’ he said, stepping over to reach a long arm down and clasp her about the wrist’. ‘If I have to, little girl, I’ll tie you to the seat. Or better yet, I’ll tie you to the back seat and let Sheba ride up front; at least she knows how to behave.’
Verna tried to free her wrist, but it was as if she were handcuffed to Con as he began moving towards the house, dragging her along with him despite her struggles.
‘Sheba! Help!’ she cried, feeling a surge of sheer satisfaction as the lean dark shape bounded from the car and raced over to them. But it was short-lived. Sheba thought it was a most delightful game, and bounded around them in a great circle, barking happily.
Con laughed at her antics, flinging open the door to haul Verna bodily into the house before he released her. ‘Right! Handbag, swimsuit and towel,’ he said. ‘We can get tucker some place along the way.’
It was obvious Verna was going whether she liked it or not, but she refused to show any degree of acceptance. ‘I want to change, if we’re going anywhere to eat,’ she said angrily, turning to stride towards her bedroom.
‘Well, don’t be long,’ was the reply, ‘or I’ll come in and get you.’
‘You would!’ she snarled over her shoulder before slamming the bedroom door in his face. It took her only a minute to strip down, put on her bikini, and cover it with shorts and a bright, colourful tank-top, but when she’d finished, she deliberately sat down on the bed and played for time.
‘Hurry up, damn it,’ came the rumbling voice from outside the door, and she started guiltily before replying,
‘I’ll only be a minute more,’ she shouted, and as she rose to her feet, the germ of an idea started in her mind. I’ll fix you, you egotistical animal, she thought, tiptoeing over to slide open the bedroom window. Peering out, she could just distinguish the rear half of Con’s car, with Sheba once again lying on the back seat.
Without a second thought, Verna grabbed up her handbag and stepped through on to the veranda, moving as quietly as she could until she reached the softness of the grass below it. Then she sprinted for the car, leaping the fence in a splendid bound before slamming the rear door of the car and flinging herself into the driver’s seat.
She was reaching for the keys when Con’s tall figure emerged from the house, and Verna thrilled with her success as the engine caught first try. This would fix him, she thought, already planning how she would drive off just slowly enough that he’d have to run to keep up, and once they were far enough from the house she’d speed away in time to return and lock herself inside before he could return.
‘Sheba ... Guard!’ The voice startled her nowhere near as much as the sudden growl from behind her as the huge shape of the dog reared upright in the rear-view mirror. At the sight of her own dog suddenly snarling with flashing, ivory fangs, Verna was so startled she slipped her foot from the clutch, and the car lurched forward several feet before bumping to a stalled halt.
Con was already yanking open the door and reaching for her by the time Verna could even think of starting the car again, and in her panic she slid across into the passenger seat, intending to flee through that door. But again he caught her wrist, snapping a command to the snarling dog to make it subside on the seat again, then turning to Verna with chilling, icy eyes.
They stared at each other for a long moment, Verna with her lip trembling as she awaited his wrath, and Con with eyes that ever-so-slowly crinkled as laughter rumbled up from his massive chest.
The tears began before Verna could even think of controlling them, great, huge droplets that trickled slowly down her cheeks. She blinked away the first, and the second, but then the floodgates opened and she felt her face suddenly convulse. Then Con had dropped her wrist and pulled her over to snuggle in his arms as she wept and howled out her fear and her frustrations.
When it was finally ended, the shoulder and chest of his shirt was sopping, and Verna’s eyes were bleary and swollen with her weeping. As she began to struggle to free herself, Con took her gently by the shoulders and held her away. She could see that almost-forgotten look of compassion and tenderness in his eyes as he spoke.
‘My very word; you were scared, weren’t you?’ he said softly. I’m sorry about that, old love. I should have realised. But your old Sheba wouldn’t have bitten you or anything, you know? In fact I imagine she was as confused as you were.’
He held on to Verna’s shoulders until she’d fully regained her equilibrium, then released her entirely. ‘Tell me — all joking and everything aside — do you really have anything else planned today?’ he asked solemnly.
Verna shook her head, unable to meet his eyes.
‘Right! Then you will come with me on that drive,’ he he said. ‘We’ll give old Sheba a fine run and then you can see for yourself how well trained she’s become. But only if you really want to. I won’t force you.’
‘I’ll have to lock up the house first,’ she said tentatively.
‘No, you sit here and make friends with your dog again; I’ll lock up for you,’ he grinned. And two minutes later he was back in the driver’s seat and they were away.
Verna sat in silence for the early part of the journey, unsure whether she was still angry or not. But once they had cleared the congested streets of Bundaberg and were out on the open highway, she felt herself slipping into the enjoyment of the whole thing. Con took a roundabout route, obviously aiming more for scenery than any particular destination.
They drove out on the Childers road, then cut across the wide Burnett River at The Cedars bridge and up to the Gin Gin highway. Then he turned off onto a series of narrow gravel tracks that eventually brought them hack to the bitumen near Wallaville. After they’d passed Morganville, heading almost due south, the bitumen ran out into gravel as the country grew stepper and they left the coastal plain and drove into the Goodnight Scrub.
Con drove expertly but quietly, only speaking to point out things of interest like the redheaded scrub turkey that fled its roadway dust-bath at their approach, and the various lizards they startled from the little-used track.
They stopped for a brief swim at Mingo Crossing, high on the upper Burnett where the water was glass clear and tumbling beneath an old, abandoned bridge beside the new one created of steel and concrete. Sheba swam with them, causing Verna great distress when the dog tried to use her as an island.
With seventy-five pounds of soaking wet dog scrabbling to climb on top of her, Verna wound up with several superficial scratches on her legs and shoulders before Con disciplined the surprised dog.
‘Lord love us, woman,’ he shouted at her later. ‘You’re going to have to take a firmer hand with that animal or she’ll cause you problems later. Now let’s go dry off in the sun and I’ll show you how the training’s gone so far.’
Verna lay propped on a blanket, astounded as Con put Sheba through her exercises. Sit, Lie Down, Stay; then a series of retrieves and finally the command to Guard. ‘You’d better handle her with this one,’ he said with a grin. ‘I wouldn’t want to frighten you any more — and besides, it’s you she’s supposed to be guarding.’
He pretended great terror when Verna set the dog on guard as Con playfully tried to grab her handbag, but Verna wasn’t totally convinced.
‘I don’t think she’d really bite you at all,’ she said. ‘You’re just playing a game with me, aren’t you?’
‘No way! Although you’re half right; I doubt if she’d bite me any more than she would you. But that isn’t the point.’
He paused to glance down at the growling dog that crouched poised before the handbag. ‘Are you going to keep her like that for ever?’
Verna shrugged. ‘Why don’t you call her off?’ she said with a grin. ‘I’m just wondering if you’ve taught her anything more dangerous than guarding. What would she do, for instance, if I set her on you? Would she take your leg off as I’ve asked her to do in the past, or just rush up and slobber all over you?’
Con laughed. ‘It’s better that you should call her off,’ he said. And once Verna had done so, he said very seriously, ‘I haven’t tried to teach her anything more aggressive than guarding — and I won’t. You don’t want a dog that’s liable to cause problems by taking a chunk out of somebody on command. Sheba is big enough and she can look mean enough when she wants to that she could scare off anybody but the most determined attacker. And I think if anybody was really trying to hurt you, she’d have them quick enough without any kind of training.’
‘Oh yes, I noticed that when you were dragging me up the front footpath,’ Verna replied with a wry smile.
‘Be serious, Verna,’ he replied. ‘When she’s full grown and mature, she’ll be a first-class watchdog, but you don’t want her too aggressive.’ Then he grinned disarmingly. ‘And as for the incident this morning, you know very well I’d never hurt you; and she knows it too.’
If you’d never hurt me, why is it that my heart keeps threatening to break? Or doesn’t that count? Verna’s thoughts rose unbidden, but she didn’t speak them aloud. Instead, she focussed her attention on the lean, tanned figure beside her, unable to resist caressing him with her eyes. It wasn’t until his fingers reached out to claim her wrist that she looked up to meet his eyes again.
‘You do know that I’d never hurt you ... don’t you, Verna?’ he whispered, exerting just enough pressure with his hand to bring her close enough to kiss.
‘Well then, stop mauling me,’ she retorted, jerking her hand away and scampering to her feet, only to find him upright and standing in front of her.
‘That was hardly mauling,’ he said coldly. ‘But I take your point, although I’d really thought we were past the point where you’d get all virginal about a simple kiss.’
It was the wrong choice of words, and Verna could tell from Con’s eyes that he realised it even as the words fell from his sensuous lips, but before he could even think of saying he was sorry, she turned and stalked away from him.
Surprisingly, he let her go, and she stumbled her way back up on to the roadway and across to where she could sit on the derelict bridge, staring blindly down at the rushing crystal water where tiny minnows flashed in the sunlight. She heard him shout at the dog to come and dry off, but neither of them came near her until Verna had decided of her own accord to return to the car.
By that time Verna’s anger should have softened, but if anything she was even more angry than before. But the anger wasn’t directed at Con, but at herself. She’d realised by the look on his face that he’d never meant his words to be hurtful, and even while she was staring at the water and apparently sulking, it was with the knowledge that her own sensitivity was more to blame than the man who had spoken so lightly of a turned-away kiss.
And as Con seated himself in the car, she could see that he’d been intensely upset by his own words. His mouth was tightly drawn, and the muscles along his jaw trembled with held- in anger that Verna knew was directed inwardly, and not at herself. When he reached down to fasten his seat belt, she reached over to place her fingers on his hand, willing him to meet her eyes.
Tm sorry I was so touchy,’ she said quietly. 1 know you didn’t mean anything hurtful.’
‘And I’m sorry I was so damned thoughtless,’ he growled. ‘But honestly, I never even thought of it un
til it was ... too late.’
‘Then forget it; I have already,’ she said, lying a little bit, but suddenly finding it important. He hadn’t meant to be hurtful, and Verna couldn’t force herself into emotional manipulations about something that she knew had probably hurt Con more than it could affect her.
Impulsively, Verna leaned over to kiss him on the cheek, but she found the gesture halted when a great dark head was thrust between them, laving her face with its long pink tongue.
‘Oh, Sheba!’ she cried. ‘Yes, I forgive you too. Yes, I do. Now get back in the back seat where you belong, you silly dog.’
As the dog moved back. Con grinned at her in acceptance of the gesture. ‘It’s the thought that counts,’ he said gently, ‘although whoever said that obviously didn’t have quite that situation in mind. Now let’s get a move on, or we won’t make Mount Perry for lunch and I’ll die of starvation.’
They were just in time to catch a counter lunch at the Mount Perry pub, where Con regaled her with tales of the old boom-town days in the former mining community. ‘You’d never believe there was once a tent city of thousands here, would you?’ he asked, eyes swivelling over the small remaining township of ageing buildings and run-down, almost abandoned appearance.
‘How do you know so much?’ she asked. Is there nowhere you haven’t been?’
‘Never been here before today,’ he replied with a grin. ‘But I’ve read all the tourist guides about everything within two hundred miles of Bundaberg, just to be sure I don’t miss seeing anything interesting.’
Verna didn’t try to stop the chuckle that rose in her throat. ‘And having read them all, I suppose you then spend all your time seeing if they’re right,’ she said with a laugh.
‘Yes, indeed,’ he replied. ‘Never know when I’m going to want a particular locale for a book or something. But if you think I’m strange ... I’d like to meet some of the people who write these brochures. They leave me for dead when it comes to fiction writing, and that’s a fact.’
‘Well, you can always find work as a dog trainer,’ she replied. ‘Speaking of which .., just how have you managed to train Sheba so well, anyhow?’
The Sugar Dragon Page 12
