by Jane Corrie
She stared at her reflection in the dressing-table mirror before she went down to breakfast that morn-
ing, and wondered if she would have the courage to tackle Clay again over her leaving Rimini Apart from Vicky's recovery, nothing else had been accomplished as far as her future was concerned, and she wondered how long it would be before Clay offered her the post of companion to Vicky.
During the past week she had sensed an impatience about him, and his temper had not been what one might call equable by any means. She also sensed that his changeable moods had a lot to do with her refusal to play things his way, and keep herself free from the plans he had undoubtedly made for her future.
A sense of helplessness surged through her as these thoughts went through her mind. It was a case of her will against his, and she knew only too well whose was the strongest. She was safe only as long as he bided his time. She could avoid meeting his eyes and thereby refusing to fall under their magnetic hold, but she would be lost if he took her in his arms. Lost in the magical world of love. She would not be able to see the future then, or care. The feel of his strong arms around her would eclipse any worry or doubt about the future.
With these unhappy thoughts swirling about her Sheena went down to breakfast, and was surprised to find Clay sitting at the table drinking coffee. At her arrival he rose to his feet and directed her attention to a letter lying beside her place at table, his dark eyes closely watching her surprised reaction, and then a slight flush as she recognized Doyle's writing.
With a nonchalance she was far from feeling, Sheena just nodded and sat down at the table, not attempting to read the letter but pushing it aside for future perusal as if it had been a bill she would have to settle sometime in the future.
Her hands were not quite steady as she accepted the cup of coffee Clay had poured out for her, and she wished fervently that he would leave her to finish her breakfast in peace. There was no hope of reading the letter until she was back in her bedroom and was assured of some privacy, and she bewailed the fact that she had no pockets on either the blouse or the jeans she was wearing and could not tuck the letter away out of sight.
The uppermost thought in her mind was how Doyle had got to know her address. She had sent Cookie a letter about a fortnight ago, but had enclosed the letter in a catalogue envelope that only bore the firm's name on it, making certain that the letter would arouse no suspicion from Doyle who sorted through the mail each morning. In any case, Cookie did not know her full address, so the information had not come from her.
'Would that be the hoped-for reconciliation?' asked Clay softly, his eyes on the letter that Sheena was trying to ignore as she settled down to eat the breakfast that Pietro had brought in for her on her arrival.
Sheena's eyes left her food, and she put down her knife and fork, abandoning any hope of finishing the meal. Whatever appetite she had was now completely gone.
As she sought for some cutting answer that would tell Clay that she had no intention of discussing such a subject, she vaguely wondered where Vicky was. Vicky did not miss meals, her healthy appetite assured this. No sooner than the thought was there, so was the answer ! Clay had given her her marching orders, and this must have included Pietro, she thought dully, as he was usually in and out of the kitchen during meal times, either taking away the used plates or replenishing the coffee pot, but he had not appeared again after bringing her her breakfast.
Clay had known that the letter was from Doyle, but how? How had he known? Her eyes widened as the horrible thought struck her that he might have read the letter, and it was all that she could do not to snatch it up and assure herself that it had not been opened.
With her eyes on Clay she said, 'How did he get my address?' She knew the answer before he verified it. Clay had given it to him. She swallowed. He hadn't known what to do with her. He must have got tired of waiting for her to fall in with his plans, and suddenly decided that they weren't worth carrying on with.
He must, she thought frantically, now be pinning his hopes on Doyle coming good, and taking her off his hands.
Even though she knew the answer, it still shocked her to hear Clay say, 'I sent it to him—at least,' he amended casually, 'I enclosed your letter to your friend in one of the farm's envelopes, and re-addressed it.'
Sheena couldn't bear to look at him as she asked, `Why?' in a low voice. She knew the answer would hurt her more than anything had ever hurt her before, even after what had happened with her father, but she had to hear him say it.
`Because I've come to the end of the line with you,' he said harshly. 'I would have been content to give you more time, but it wouldn't solve anything, would it?' He stared at the letter. 'You might,' he said grimly, 'just confirm that I'm right in assuming that Carter wants you back, but no way,' he added harshly, 'will you be going back unless he makes you a firm offer of marriage.'
Sheena's eyes blazed at this autocratic ruling. How dared he? What did he care whether she married Doyle or not? He might feel responsible for her, but there were limits ! All he was really interested in was getting her off his hands ! 'I think I'm old enough to make my own decisions,' she said quietly, but as the fury bubbled up within her she added furiously, `What right have you to lay any conditions on my return, anyway ?'
`The right of someone who cares deeply for you,' he replied. His eyes were bleak as he continued, `Who loves you enough to let you go back to the one person who can make you happy.'
Sheena's stupefied expression said it all. There was so much she wanted to know, and she was not certain that she had heard what she thought she had heard. 'I'm not going back to Barter's Ridge,' was all she could think of saying, but she couldn't leave it at
that. If Clay loved her, then why was he standing the other side of the table just looking at her? Do you really love me?' she asked in a small wondering voice.
Still he did not move towards her, but gave her a tight-lipped smile. 'I've been telling you so since that first day,' he said quietly. But you kept blocking me out. I couldn't even get off the starting line, let alone make you forget Charter.'
Sheena's wondering eyes swept over Clay's proud head, and his strongly moulded jaw, and on to those firm lips of his. He didn't know it, but he had succeeded in his quest within a week of her arrival. The night of the dance, she thought dreamily. It had only taken one kiss, that was all, to awaken her from her dreaming.
'Why aren't you going back?' he shot out at her, shaking her out of her misty musings. 'Do you find it hard to forgive him, too? Will you spend the rest of your life with only memories to comfort you?' he said harshly.
Sheena gazed steadily back at him and slowly shook her head, making her dark hair frame her heart-shaped face.
`Then why, Sheena?' he asked persistently, the strain evident by his taut expression.
'If a certain person would only take me in his arms and kiss me, I think '
That was as far as Clay allowed her to get, and the next minute he was holding her tight in his arms and kissing her with a ferocity that left no room for
doubt that he loved her. `I'll kiss you through to eternity,' he whispered against her lips, 'because I'll never let you go. I'll forge a chain of love around you that will bind you to me for the rest of time.'
Through the pink haze of love Sheena reflected that the chain was already there, he had no need of reinforcement She felt his hold slacken on her and knew he was reaching for the letter on the table be-hind her. He held it in front of her for a brief second, then crushed it in his strong lean hand. 'Exit one station boss,' he said softly, then swept her close to him again, 'and here's where the farm boss takes over! '
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