by Margaret Way
‘Fun?’ Carrie’s voice rose again. ‘Fun, for God’s sake, fun! Well it’s not fun now.’
CHAPTER FIVE
HER father was remarkably solicitious. He treated her as if she had been in the accident; as if she were breakable when she didn’t feel breakable at all. The town treated her the same way. One would have thought Scott and Natasha had been involved in separate accidents so determined were people not to mention their names in the same breath.
But they had been together. There again, no one would tell her what it was about the accident that had so compromised them. Had they been found stark-naked? She rather doubted that. Was Natasha in a state of undress? She finally got it from Paddy when she called into the Bulletin office to see him in person—they had spoken on the phone—and ask for time off.
‘Needless to say out of respect we won’t be printing the full story,’ Pat Kennedy told her, studying her face closely. He loved this girl. She was as dear to him as the granddaughter he had wished for but never had.
‘At last we get to it,’ Carrie sighed, her dark eyes full of misery. ‘Tell me, Paddy. Get it over. I guess twenty-four isn’t too late to find out you’re a gullible fool.’
‘You’re no fool, my girl,’ Paddy said, then added with sudden fierceness, ‘it’s that fiancé of yours who’s the fool. I don’t understand this whole business actually. I could have sworn Scott was madly in love with you. No pretence, he couldn’t wait to marry you.’
‘That’s all over, Paddy.’
‘He’s still in the induced coma?’
Carrie gulped down tears. ‘Yes.’ Ever one to visualise she had a clear picture of Scott lying in a hospital bed, hooked up to monitors. He had been badly concussed—the great fear being of brain injury—with a broken collarbone, multiple lacerations and two broken ribs. All Carrie wanted was for him to open his eyes again and talk to someone. His mother. She didn’t want to be the one but as far as she was concerned all was forgiven. She had no wish for him or Natasha to suffer, though Natasha wasn’t the one to worry about right now. Natasha had been lucky. Compared to Scott she had come through relatively unscathed. No broken bones but severe bruising and multiple lacerations that nevertheless were not considered serious enough to leave scars. Carrie was glad of that. Natasha Cunningham was a beautiful woman—if not a beautiful person.
Carrie had spoken to Scott’s distraught mother the day of the accident. Thea Harper, after all, was to have become her mother-in-law. All Carrie could do was offer comfort in the face of a mother’s agony. Thea was nearly out of her mind with worry, as well she might be. Scott was not only her only son, he was her only child. Both of them had chosen to put Natasha’s presence in Scott’s SUV to one side. There was enough to worry about without following through on that issue. Time enough for that.
‘Are you going to give Scott a chance to tell his side of the story?’ Paddy asked, his normally twinkling blue eyes troubled. ‘That Cunningham girl is trouble. I’ve long said so.’
‘So what’s the full story,’ Carrie asked wearily.
Paddy, seasoned journalist, close friend and mentor, with all the wisdom of a fulfilled life, at seventy-three, coloured up. ‘It seems Natasha wasn’t wearing her, er, shirt. Or her bra,’ he added with a shake of his silver head.
Carrie was past shock. ‘That seems extraordinarily wild, even for Natasha. Or was it night-time?’
‘Must have been,’ Paddy said briefly. ‘You’re going to visit him?’
‘Regardless of what they were up to, it’s high time I did,’ Carrie said. ‘I’ll look in on Natasha while I’m at it. We’ve never been friends but I’ve often thought there’s something sad and lost about her. That’s why she behaves so badly.’
‘Dreadful crowd,’ Paddy tutted though he was kind about most people. ‘Cruel what they did to Reece and his young family. I’ve met Clay. He used to be ‘little Jimmy Cunningham’ back then. I would have met him at the picnic races only for my old mate, Bill Hawkins’s funeral in Brisbane. Clay came into the office last week to make himself known to me. I must say he appears to have turned out splendidly.’
Carrie kept her eyes downcast. ‘He’s a wonderful horse-man. It was quite thrilling to see him win the Cup.’
‘Scott must have hated that?’ Paddy spoke wryly, showing his understanding of Scott’s nature.
‘He didn’t take it too well,’ Carrie agreed. ‘Was there some feud in their childhood, Clay and Scott? If so it’s carried through to now.’
Paddy’s face creased up. ‘Scott was a bit of a bully in those days, Carrie,’ he settled for, deliberately not mentioning the time Scott Harper had fiercely knocked a younger, smaller child to the ground. ‘He chose to pick on Jimmy—I mean Clay—every time he saw him in town. People took sides in those days. Even a child would have been affected. Reece was going to marry Elizabeth Campbell after all. Not that they were engaged. It was just taken for granted. Enter one lovely little English-Irish girl—I never knew which—with blazing Titian hair, and that was that! Elizabeth and Thea Harper were friends. Naturally they turned against Reece and more particularly the young woman he fell in love with.’ Paddy’s well rounded voice was thin with regret. ‘Awful the things that were said about that young woman. Not a single rumour that was sustainable. But mud sticks.’
‘I’m wondering how long this particular piece of mud is going to stick?’ Carrie sighed. ‘I pray for Scott’s rapid recovery but I can’t marry him, Paddy. I had decided not to even before this.’
‘Look, who would expect you to?’ Paddy asked. He had never thought Golden Boy Harper was half good enough for Carrie.
Carrie stared sightlessly at the wall clock. ‘When it happened, Dad was shocked out of his mind. He thought the world of Scott.’
‘Yes, isn’t that odd?’ mused Paddy.
‘You didn’t?’ Carrie turned her gaze back on her friend and mentor. He had never said a word against Scott.
Paddy looked embarrassed. ‘Well, he’s a handsome young fella. He’s much admired in certain quarters. He’s certainly going to be very rich, but I didn’t really see you two as compatible, Carrie. Scott doesn’t have your depth of character.’
‘Oh, Paddy,’ Carrie sighed. ‘What depth of character? I’m not much of a judge, am I? Do you think it would be okay if I took this week off? I have to make arrangements to travel to the hospital. What I was going to tell you was, Dad seems to be doubling back on himself. An injured Scott is somehow working his way back to being reinstated in Dad’s good books. I can feel it! Lately I’ve been wondering if Dad didn’t think my getting myself engaged to Scott was the best thing I’ve ever done.’
Paddy shook his head. He had to bide his time to speak to Carrie in depth. He had never liked Bruce McNevin any more than he had approved of Scott Harper for Carrie. McNevin, a man of considerable reserve and a dreadful snob, was in Paddy’s opinion, a controlling person. In some way he controlled his beautiful, outgoing wife. God knows why! He had long sought to control his daughter as though without his guidance her beauty would cause her to run off the rails. It was all very odd! Both parents had acted as though the sooner Carrie was married off to a young man they judged right, the better.
Carrie stayed to have a bite of lunch with Paddy and afterwards walked down to the local super market—to stock up on a few items for which her mother had given her a list. It was as she was leaving the huge barn, pushing a laden trolley—why was it one always bought so much more than was on the list?—that she ran in to Clay.
‘Hi, I’ll take that.’
Her heartbeat stumbled, then staggered on. She watched as he took charge of the trolley. She hadn’t spoken to him—neither of them had made contact—since that day on Jimboorie when they had gone into each other’s arms. Ecstatic, then, afterwards trying to push away.
‘How’s Harper?’ he asked, following her lead to the parking bay.
‘Stable when I rang this morning.’
‘And Natasha, my wayward cousin?’
‘She’ll be coming home. I pray to God they’ll both be coming home soon.’
‘So how do you feel about it?’ he asked, starting to load the provisions into her 4WD.
‘I’m just thankful they’re alive, Clay. Other than that I feel like a complete fool.’
Clay paused in what he was doing to look down at her. There were faint shadows beneath her beautiful eyes as though she’d slept badly. ‘You haven’t heard yet what he has to say? I take it at this point you’re not unengaged?’
‘It’s a difficult moment to announce the wedding’s off,’ she countered. ‘The town has decided to pretend Natasha’s presence in Scott’s SUV was quite innocent. She was accompanying him on some journey out to Campbell’s Creek a well-known beauty spot for lovers. And at night!’
‘You don’t buy the innocent story?’
She looked away from him, a pressure building up behind her rib cage. ‘My mother told me not long after it happened it wasn’t. She’s dreadfully upset. So is my father. Both of them were thrilled when I got engaged to Scott.’
‘In God’s name, why?’ There was a lick of anger in his brilliant blue eyes. ‘It sounds to me like you were almost railroaded into it.’
She raised a delicate shoulder in a shrug. Let it drop. She realized now there was more than a grain of truth in it. ‘Not anymore,’ she said. ‘When Scott is fit enough I’m going to tell him—’
‘For the second time—’
‘Our engagement is over.’ She was wearing a wide-brimmed straw hat, protection against the hot rays of the sun but now a strong gust of wind blew it from her head.
Clay caught it, twirling it in his hand. ‘Pretty!’ he said, feeling both happy and sad. Something about wide-brimmed straw hats and lovely little faces beneath them made him want to laugh and cry if ever a man was allowed to cry. His mother with a redhead’s porcelain complexion, had always worn big shady hats in the sun.
‘If he wants to be with Natasha he’s welcome to her,’ Carrie was saying, sensitive to the changing expressions on his face. What was he thinking about?
Clay handed her hat back to her. ‘Put it back on. You have the most beautiful skin. I’d say Scott will probably take the line Natasha came onto him. I think that’s the sort of thing he would do. The point is, whatever arrangement he had with Natasha, he wants you.’
‘Maybe for a while.’ A little bitterness seeped out. ‘But that’s not going to happen, Clay.’
‘I wish I could believe you,’ he smiled ironically.
‘What’s it to you anyway?’ The breathless feeling was increasing. She had never stopped thinking about this man even with everything else going on in her life.
‘For a highly intelligent young woman that’s a very stupid question,’ he said tersely.
She had to breathe in deeply as she looked up at him. His strong features were drawn taut.
‘Clay, I’m not taking anything away from…from what happened that day on Jimboorie,’ she burst out emotionally. ‘I fell…’
‘We fell…’ He corrected, shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his jeans lest he reach out and grab her.
‘Are you going to keep interrupting me?’ she asked a little raggedly.
‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘We fell…’
‘Fathoms deep in…fascination,’ she said, her dark eyes enormous in her face. ‘It’s not love, Clay. It can’t be love. We barely know one another. I’ve known Scott for most of my life.’
‘So?’ He pulled at the knotted red bandanna around his bronze throat as though he, too, were having difficulty breathing. ‘You got engaged. You pleased your parents, his parents. But he certainly didn’t make you happy. Are you going to admit it?’
She looked up at the blazing blue sky—the colour of his eyes—as if looking for an answer. ‘I can’t abandon him until he’s out of hospital and safely home. He could have been killed or condemned to live life in a wheelchair. He could still take a turn for the worse.’
‘I hope to God he doesn’t,’ Clay said, with utter soberness. ‘This guy seems to be able to project guilt on you. Are you sorry about our time together?’ He tilted her chin up. ‘Tell me. I’m not here to harass you, Caroline. But I’m not going to stand by and watch you get locked into a bad situation. On your own admission your parents are coming around to dismissing the rumours or ignoring them altogether.’
‘Who told you?’ she asked, curious to know.
‘Someone who was there,’ he said in a clipped voice.
‘Surely not one of the Campbells? You know the story. Your father was supposed to marry Elizabeth Campbell.’
His blue eyes were spangled with silver in the glare. ‘Sounds like a lot of railroading goes on in this part of the world. My father told me the only woman he ever wanted to marry was my mother. If you’d have seen them together you would have known how much they loved one another.’
‘They both died young,’ Carrie lamented.
‘Young enough,’ Clay said. ‘My father never used his name, Cunningham. That’s just between you and me. Cunningham was too well-known and he wanted no part of his family anymore. We were the Dysons. Dyson was his second name. We kept ourselves to ourselves. After my father was killed, my mother and I were even more quiet.’
‘My heart goes out to you, Clay.’ Indeed all of her went out to him.
He could see the sympathy and understanding in her lovely face. ‘Don’t get upset, Caroline. You know what happened the last time. Do you feel like a cup of coffee?’ He was desperate to prolong his time with her.
‘I have to get going, Clay,’ she made her excuse, seeing station women she knew wheeling out their trolleys and waving to her, eyes curious. She waved back. So did Clay.
‘You don’t want us to be seen together? Is that it?’ His dark-timbred voice turned hard.
‘No, I don’t mean that.’ She shook her head. ‘I feel I must visit Scott in hospital. I have to make arrangements. It’s a duty I can’t avoid.’
He stood there looking down at her, picturing them both back at Jimboorie. ‘If you want I can drive you to Toowoomba,’ he said. ‘Natasha mightn’t love me as a cousin should but I’ve been thinking of calling in to see her. She might need a bit of support. I bet her family are very unhappy with her. Cunninghams hate scandals. When would you want to go or did you intend to fly? Are your parents going with you?’
A whole new excitement opened up. Temptation. Danger. ‘Not at this stage. We’re all caught in a maze of moral dilemmas, I’m afraid. But I feel I must see Scott. I would never forgive myself if anything happened to him. He’s been a big part of my life. God, Clay, I was going to marry him in December.’
‘Marry me instead,’ he found himself blurting out when he could well be ruining his chances by speaking out so precipitously. But, hell, wasn’t he a better option than Harper?
Carrie’s knees nearly gave way from under her. ‘You can’t be serious?’
His handsome head blocked out the sun. ‘I’ve never been more serious in my life,’ he said, flying in the face of caution. ‘I wasn’t joking when I said I wanted a wife and family. I do. I fully intended to advertise for the right woman. I’d thought it over carefully, came to that decision. Then along came you.’
‘At what point did you think I might suit?’ She feigned a kind of anger.
‘Don’t get angry,’ he said. ‘The last thing I intended was offence. Does it matter at what point?’ Hadn’t he wanted her instantly? But to tell her was really to risk frightening her away. ‘I think we could make a go of it, Caroline. You’d never feel trapped with me. You love Jimboorie and the old homestead. I’ve seen that with my own eyes. We could restore it. I’m sure you know all about that side of things.’ She was the sort of girl he’d dreamed of but doubted he’d ever find.
Bees were buzzing in a nearby flowering bottle brush or was it a sound in her head? ‘Clay, you can’t speak to me this way.’ She clenched her hands together in agitation.
‘Why not
?’ He lowered his resonant voice lest it float all over the parking area. ‘This is a serious proposal. One I’d be honoured if you’d consider. I’m not stone-broke like everyone seems to think. Miracles do happen in life. I’ve no great fortune, but quite enough to be going on with. I could make a good life for you. I’d dedicate myself to it.’
‘You’d marry a woman you didn’t love?’ She stared up at him, knowing his dedication wouldn’t be enough for her. Scales had been lifted from her eyes. She wanted a man who would love her passionately. As passionately as she loved him. Love that would be there to stay.
‘You were going to marry a man you didn’t love,’ he pointed out very quietly.
She felt like she was being swept along in a turbulent stream. ‘Clay, I can’t possibly consider this. It would take more than I’m prepared to give. Besides, I’m in an impossible place in my life. Haven’t you enough admirers already? You could have had your pick of a dozen at the gala dance?’
‘What, pretty little teenagers who don’t yet know their own minds?’
‘There were others!’
‘Stop, Caroline,’ he said. ‘I understand you’re in a difficult place. I daresay your parents wouldn’t be happy about me, but I know we can make a real go of it. I can’t put it better than that. Except to say I’m as strongly attracted to you as you are to me. Okay, it’s not love. You say you can’t fall in love right away. But what we have is good.’
She couldn’t deny it. What they had was beautiful. No one could take that kiss away, but exposing her heart with all that had happened to her seemed an ominous thing to do. Her fellow shoppers would probably think she was flirting with Clay when Scott was lying comatose in a hospital bed.
Knowing what sort of person Carrie was, the other women shoppers weren’t thinking that at all, but Carrie found herself burdened by unwarranted guilt.
