Born of the Wind

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by Margaret Pargeter




  Born of the Wind

  By

  Margaret Pargeter

  Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  First published 1984

  © Margaret Pargeter 1984

  ISBN 0 263 74790 5

  CHAPTER ONE

  Sherry had been expecting the car, so it was no surprise to hear it coming. The unsurfaced road outside exaggerated the sound of tyres gripping it and through the mesh on the window she could smell the cloud of dust which would travel in the wake of Scott Brady's powerful automobile. It was a wonder he hadn't come in one of his fleet of helicopters! she thought bitterly.

  She didn't hear his footsteps approaching. Like a lot of big men he moved quietly, but she would have had to be deaf not to have heard his angry knock on the door. Anger could be conveyed better than most emotions through actions as well as words, and there was no mistaking it in the savage tattoo which invaded the momentary silence. Scott Brady sounded threatening as well as furious.

  Though involuntarily Sherry shuddered, her own nervousness somehow helped to stiffen her wavering courage. I'll take no notice until he knocks again, she decided mutinously. Remaining seated at the table, a cup of lukewarm coffee clasped in her shaking hands, she stared at it fixedly, refusing to allow her agitated feet to budge. In another ten seconds—she began counting, I'll go and see what he wants. As if she didn't already know! Ever since Kim had left she had known Scott Brady would turn up. It would be hopeless to pray that he was here for any other reason than that her brother had gone out with his sister.

  Sherry didn't have to wait for the second knock. Scott even saved her the bother of answering the door by flinging it open and striding, uninvited into the kitchen!

  'Why…! How—how dare you?' Sherry stammered, her long braid of silky dark hair swinging as she jumped to her feet.

  'How dare you sit there ignoring me?' the man suddenly looming over her countered icily. 'I've a good mind to put you over my knee and lay into you until you can't sit down again!'

  A strange feeling shot through Sherry as she glared at him, her sapphire blue eyes shouting defiance in her small tired face. 'There's no need to be abusive, Mr Brady! I was on my way,' well, she'd intended to be. 'If I wasn't fast enough to please you, that's no excuse for losing your temper.'

  'You think not?' he exploded, one hand whipping out to grasp the two fronts of her shirt, jerking her to within inches of his furious face. 'Let me tell you, Miss Grant, I don't appreciate being left to cool my heels on anyone's doorstep while the lady of the house tries to decide whether or not she's in!'

  Sherry ignored the dangerous quality about Scott Brady which usually made her think twice before she spoke. 'I told you!' she hissed, her face scarlet now and glowing with a temper almost matching his, 'I was on my way.'

  'If that's your normal speed,' he snapped, 'no wonder this place is going to rack and ruin!'

  'That's not true!' she forced herself to deny the obvious. 'Not that it's any of your business!'

  'It shouldn't be,' he agreed cynically.

  Feeling irritated beyond endurance, Sherry replied in much the same tone. 'You don't have to bother snooping round!'

  His thin mouth went tight. 'If it only concerned you and your brother, I'd have washed my hands of you long ago. Unfortunately my sister appears to be involved.'

  She swallowed and closed her eyes. So he did know about Kim and Ellen. Since he had guessed as much, it was no real surprise, but she hadn't been prepared for such icy disapproval. With an effort she hung on to her self-control, taking deep, quick breaths in order to prevent herself from losing it completely. A free-for-all with Scott Brady wouldn't help Kim. In the three years since Kim and she had come from England to live with their grandfather on his sheep station in New South Wales, her encounters with Scott Brady, their wealthy neighbour, had been few and far between. It was only since her grandfather had died, six months ago that they had seen more of him. Why, she had no idea. Whenever she mentioned it to Kim, he replied evasively that it might have something to do with Scott wishing to buy the property from him, but Sherry wasn't altogether convinced. If Scott Brady was interested in a property she was sure he would make enquiries through the usual channels, rather than approaching the owner himself.

  It was more likely, Sherry suspected, that the frequency of Scott Brady's visits had more to do with an increasing concern for his sister rather than any urgent desire to add Googon to his already outsize empire. That Ellen might be even remotely interested in a man apparently incapable of running even a small station properly must go greatly against the grain. Not that Sherry could altogether blame him, though she would never admit it. .Ellen, at twenty-four, was a pleasant and beautiful girl, but she had probably never done a day's work in her life. She just wasn't cut out to be the wife of a struggling sheep farmer who couldn't be classed as even a minor member of the ruling squattocracy!

  Scott Brady appeared to have forgotten he still held Sherry by her shirt fronts in the grip of his steely fingers. His cool grey eyes were focused on her face, and feeling scorched by the disparagement of his exploring glance, she suddenly realised how close they were and wrenched away from him. Giving herself a moment to recover from the peculiar sensation contact with his knuckles had aroused on her skin, she pretended to be reflecting on what he had said. Two thoughts were going through her mind and she was confused that she couldn't connect them. It was the first time he had touched her and the first time he had come out in the open regarding his sister.

  'I think you're getting things out of proportion, Mr Brady.' She took another deep breath in order to counter the mounting cynicism in his hard, dark face. 'It's not difficult to guess how much you disapprove of me and my brother, but if you're trying to stop Kim and Ellen seeing each other then I'd suggest you're going about it the wrong way.'

  His eyes narrowed. Abruptly he asked, 'How old are you?'

  She would have staked her last cent he already knew. 'Twenty, almost.'

  'Yes,' his nod confirmed her suspicions, 'little more than a child. So you must allow that with my considerable advantage, both in years and experience, my judgment must be vastly superior to yours. Your brother and my sister may believe they're in love, but anything as serious as marriage between them could only end in total disaster. I'd be a fool, we'd both be fools, Miss Grant, if we permitted things to go as far as that. Kim doesn't like work, he doesn't even pretend to, while my sister doesn't know what work is. An alliance between two such people would be frankly impossible.'

  Immediately Sherry sprang to her brother's defence. 'Kim does try!' she cried. 'It's not his fault he was brought up in an entirely different environment, but the fact that he doesn't like sheep doesn't prove he'd be a failure as a husband!'

  'If he can't make enough to support a wife, he's bound to be a failure as a husband,' Scott retorted dryly.

  'Doesn't your own record rather contradict this?' Sherry shot back, too angry to be discreet.

  For a moment, as his face froze, she feared he was going to hit her. In the thickness of the sudden silence, she could feel his anger leaping out at her. Scott Brady, according to her grandfather, had been married in his twenties, to the daughter of one of his father's business associates. Their divorce three years later had remained a mystery, the only clear point emerging being the obvious one, that the marriage had failed. Despite the fury in his face, Sherry couldn't help wondering why Scott Brady's marriage hadn't been a success. Still in his middle thirti
es, he was a handsome, virile man. Surely no woman in love with him would have been willing to let him go?

  Just as she expected to feel the weight of his hand across her cheek, his anger seemed to fade and he merely shrugged indifferently. 'My marriage needn't concern you. Let's concentrate on your brother.'

  Sherry bit her lip sharply. He wasn't prepared to discuss his marriage, to make comparisons, and she must accept it. But she wouldn't, she vowed, do anything to help him demolish the growing friendship between Kim and Ellen.

  'Your affairs don't interest me as much as your theories,' she replied coolly. 'I was only trying to point out that you can't generalise about everything, and that money doesn't necessarily guarantee happiness. I suggest, if you want Kim and Ellen to forget each other, you should try leaving them alone. It's quite probably your antagonism that's driving them on.'

  He laughed sarcastically. 'So far as theories go, that must be more old hat than any of mine. You can't really be suggesting that I should encourage them to imagine I approve of what's going on?'

  'Would it be such a bad thing?' she asked, suddenly weary.

  'A bad thing?' His tone implied she was witless. 'It would be a tragedy, pommie girl.'

  'So that's it!' As anger dispersed the tiredness she felt, her blue eyes sparked rage at him. 'Since Kim and I came to live with Grandfather, you've never accepted us, have you? After he died you stopped even pretending to! We're still pommies because we haven't been notably successful. If ever we are, you might just accept us as Australians, but until that day arrives we remain foreigners!'

  Scott Brady regarded her impassively throughout the whole of her impassioned speech, obviously unmoved by it. 'It happens all over the world.'

  Bitterly she retorted, 'So you admit it?'

  He said abruptly, his eyes glinting, 'I don't consider you and your brother no good, but if Kim had the guts to try harder it might make a hell of a difference. Respect has to be earned, and I reckon this applies to the whole universe, not just this particular corner of it.'

  'You have to give him time!' she protested fiercely. 'He's learning fast.'

  'To let his sister do all the work,' he tacked on bitingly.

  The derision in his voice made Sherry shiver. 'I don't…'

  'You do!'

  'You can't know that!' she gasped.

  Meeting her widening glance contemptuously, he snapped, 'I know all right.'

  He probably did. Men like him frequently saw too much! Staring at him resentfully, Sherry collapsed in her chair again, her legs feeling suddenly weak. 'I like being outside,' she muttered. 'I enjoy riding. Grandfather was never keen to let me…'

  'He kept you hard at it in here, didn't he?' Scott interrupted. 'He made a slave of you to keep you out of mischief. He would have done better to have paid more attention to your brother.'

  Sherry frowned. 'He didn't want me running off as my mother did. I can understand that, but he also taught Kim a lot.'

  'Tried to!' Scott muttered tauntingly.

  'Mr Brady!' Sherry was swiftly on her feet again, her face flushing wildly. 'I see no point in continuing this conversation. You haven't convinced me, nor are you likely to, that I have any right to interfere in my brother's life—at least, not concerning the girls he takes out. And if he chooses to be friendly with your sister, who are you to judge if he's good enough for her or not?'

  Scott Brady's eyes glittered so coldly, Sherry found herself on the verge of retracting what she had said. It took a lot of courage to continue, defying him, but she hoped he was aware of how little real influence she had over Kim. Kim was six years older and their parents had always spoiled him. He had been their golden boy, she only the dark, rather secretive young daughter who didn't count.

  'You little fool,' she was jerked rudely back to reality as Scott ground out, 'why do you still refuse to face facts?'

  Sherry flinched as he attacked her while the colour deepened in her cheeks. 'Mr Brady!' she spluttered indignantly, 'if I were to agree to do as you ask, how would you expect me to go about splitting Kim and Ellen up? I'm no magician. I wouldn't even know where to start!'

  'Whoever reared you,' he snapped—she thought unreasonably, 'failed to knock any sense into your head. If we stuck together—I believe the word is collaborate—we might achieve a lot.'

  'No!' She felt immediate apprehension, as every instinct warned her, for her own sake as well as Kim's, against any closer contact with this man. 'I—' she stammered, 'I still think you have no right to interfere in something that's none of your business!'

  'Sherry,' he retorted grimly, 'I'm getting tired of standing here, hearing you repeatedly telling me that. My sister is surely my business. I have to take care of her, and if you refuse to take my word for it, I'll have to find another way of proving just how unsuitable a match between your brother and her would be.'

  'Another way?' Sherry voiced in nervous confusion.

  'Yes,' in a flash he was by her side, his hand on her arm this time, 'you're coming with me.'

  'With you?'

  They were halfway over the kitchen before she belatedly realised. what was happening and dug her heels in. To her incredulous surprise, as he felt her resistance, Scott turned, swinging her up in his arms, his powerful frame accepting her slight weight easily. Before she could pull herself together sufficiently to fight him, they were outside and he was lowering her into the front seat of the car, then driving off with her.

  Automatically Sherry's hand flew to the door.

  'It's locked,' Scott said coolly.

  Sherry heard her breath draw in like a sob. 'Just what do you think you're doing?' she gasped.

  'Taking you to Coomarlee,' he replied mockingly. 'You haven't been.'

  Blindly, she tried to steady her whirling senses and uneven pulse. She had been held close in Scott Brady's arms, but surely not close enough to feel so entirely disorientated? As shock waves trembled through her bones, she thought she might faint. Confusion reigned in what little coherent thought remained. It must be fear, a dread of the unknown, that was making her react so peculiarly.

  'No,' she agreed breathlessly, when she was at last able to speak, 'I haven't been to Coomarlee, and I have no desire to go. I'm ordering you to turn round and take me straight home again, Mr Brady.'

  He laughed dismissively, without taking his eyes off the dusty track. 'If you'd agreed to do as I asked, in the first place, none of this might have been necessary.'

  Bewildered, Sherry stared at him, deriving little comfort from the chiselled hardness of his profile.

  'How is taking me to Coomarlee going to alter the situation?'

  'It might not,' he rejoined curtly, 'but at least it will give you some idea of Ellen's life style. You'll see how she's used to living and be able to compare it with what your brother has to offer. I realise,' he went on smoothly, 'how it might be impossible for someone from an ordinary background to imagine the difference.'

  Sherry thought she must have gasped more in the past half hour than she had done in weeks! 'I always believed there were no snobs in Australia!' she exclaimed sarcastically.

  'In this instance I'd rather call it common sense,' he countered coolly.

  Appearing quite satisfied, when she made no reply, that he had had the last word, Scott fell silent. Sherry was silent because she didn't know what to say, then decided it might be better not to say anything.

  Dazed, she gazed through the car window at the golden plains over which they were travelling. They lived not far from Bourke, a town almost eight hundred miles north-west of Sydney, which was a service centre for a vast area of outback sheep country. She liked Australia, she supposed her roots were here as her grandparents had been born here, but this evening her eyes were somehow blind to the land she had grown to love.

  Scott Brady must have no idea her father had been a wealthy financier. Sherry knew that her grandfather had quarrelled with her parents after they had married and her English father had refused to come and live on
the station. Her mother had once told her that despite many attempts on her part, the quarrel had never been patched up, and the last time she had seen him he had sworn never to allow her name to pass his lips again. Sherry realised he couldn't have done, for when she and her brother had arrived at Googon no one seemed to have been aware of their existence. It was immediately assumed they were a pair of poor orphans. They had been, of course, after their parents had gone down with their yacht in the Aegean, just before the crash.

  How John Carey had learned about it, he would never say, but within weeks of it happening, when he might have almost uncannily guessed how desperate Kim was to escape the repercussions of financial ruin and the ridicule of his so-called friends, he had sent for them. His treatment of them had been fair, but so harsh that Sherry suspected that any softer emotions no longer had a place in his life. Often she felt he was taking revenge for their mother's defection, but she had never minded as much as Kim. What she had minded was her grandfather's and Kim's determination never to speak of her parents. Both the two men had given the impression that they only wished to forget, an attitude which, though in some ways sensible, hurt Sherry a lot. She could understand them being bitter, but she had hoped that Kim would eventually forgive his parents, especially his mother.

  John Carey, she thought, had taken more to Kim than herself. Once, after putting up with his constant grousing for days, she had asked him why she was unable to please him. He had answered that she looked too much like his daughter, who had abused the freedom he had given her by marrying a man who had refused to live here and help him.

  It had been useless trying to argue that her father hadn't been cut out to be a grazier. She was sure Richard Grant would never have settled happily away from his beloved London and had more sense than to comment on his financial success, much in evidence before everything had gone wrong. She remembered their beautiful homes, both in London and the country, but she knew if she mentioned them her grandfather would believe she was still yearning for them.

 

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