by Corrie, Jane
`It's a little late for that, isn't it?' Sarah replied angrily, 'and I can't think why you're bothering. You certainly laid it on thick with your sister, didn't you? All that nonsense about losing your job, which I don't believe for one minute. Just as I've never believed in this wonderful find you're supposed to have made. It stands to reason that it would have been made public by now. No,' she
went on, unheeding the glints in Sean's eyes that should have been a warning signal if she hadn't been so incensed, 'you're just working out a private vendetta. You wouldn't listen to me, but you were only too ready to listen to the lies Charles Ashley told you about my style of life. Well, that's his way, it's certainly not mine. Not that I care what you believe. I just want out,' she ended fiercely.
`Now you just listen to me, you little wildcat,' Sean said harshly. 'Firstly, you can disabuse yourself of the fact that I'm on a crusade where you're concerned. It's perfectly true that I don't care for your profession, but that's your business. I'll now give you a few facts about my business. What I told you about the 'C' factor was true. If you had a little more intelligence you would have realised that a strike like that has to be doubly checked, and that's precisely what's happening now. All those figures you typed out, all the specimens of soil, strata levels, are only half of it. We've been looking for it for over three years now, and I'm pretty sure we've found it, but I don't have the last word, not on something as important as this. Believe me, when it is confirmed, it won't be just our press that will flock for information, but the world press. We're not the only ones that have been looking for it, but we've won the race. And if you think I'd let anyone put that in jeopardy, then you'd better think again,' he advised her harshly.
Sarah realised the futility of going on with the argument, and made her way to the door.
`And you can put on something decent,' he
shouted at her before she left. 'You've no excuse now for going about looking like a wanton!'
Sarah was beyond replying, and she closed the door behind her with a firm click that somehow suggested her feelings about that last statement of his, then she went straight to her room.
Once there she sat down on her bed, willing herself not to give way to the utter desolation in her heart and weep it all out of her system.
She simply would not allow that despicable man to get the better of her, she told herself, biting on her lower lip to gain her composure. She had no doubt at all that what he had just told her was true, and it seemed that she had been deceiving herself all along the line as to his real reason for denying her her freedom.
Her fingers clutched the bright blue bedspread. Was that the kind of woman she had turned into? she thought bewilderedly. Had her head been turned to the extent that she had lost all sense of proportion and now suspected every man of having designs on her? Was she the very type of woman Sean Cartier had accused her of being?
Not once, she thought miserably, had she considered the importance of his work; that side of it had never occurred to her. She had been too busy seeing herself as a maligned female who happened to be attractive to the opposite sex. In her eyes she had credited her captor with all the human failings of his gender, and had well deserved the setdown she had just been given.
At this point a tiny voice inside her reminded her that he could have sent her off with the rest of the reporters, but had chosen to keep her
there. He had also, that small voice went on ruthlessly, made a point of telling her about the find—why?
Her eyes opened wide as she got the answer. She had threatened to sue him, hadn't she, and he had trumped her master card with an ace. As she had suspected he was not the type of man to make mistakes. Everything he did was done on purpose.
All this time he had been amusing himself at her expense, she thought angrily, now coming back to a healthy dislike of him, as she recalled the way his eyes had mocked her when he had told his sister to tell Pauline that he had got a crush on her.
How he must have regretted having to use that information to keep himself out of the courts, Sarah thought. The only real slip he had made was in letting his personal feelings get the better of him, determined to exact some form of punishment from her, and if she hadn't been such a stupid ninny as to tell him she was going to sue him for denying her her freedom, he wouldn't have had to resort to such drastic action.
No wonder he had met that bus from the National Park, and every other bus, if she hadn't been on that! It must have given him a few bad moments, and for that at least she was glad; everything else had gone his way.
The following morning's bright sunshine did nothing to help lighten Sarah's spirits, but only served to make her feel even more abandoned to the outside world. She wished she could wander in the homestead grounds, but there was Lin to
consider. There was no doubt that he had been instructed to keep an eye on her—not that there was anywhere that she could go to gain her freedom, and she did not want to put Lin's vigilance to the test by wandering off out of sight, because he would certainly contact his boss, wherever he was, for Sarah had heard the Land Rover starting up shortly after she had got down to breakfast.
At eleven-thirty, she was amazed to hear that she was wanted on the telephone. 'Missy Bandaman want to talk to you,' Lin told her, and took her to a room beyond the lounge that served as a study, that had a two-way radio transmission set, and as Sarah had never used one before, Lin showed her how to flick the switch over to hear the message, to flick it back before she replied, and to speak into the small microphone in front of her.
`Sarah?' Kathy Bandaman's voice floated clearly over the line. 'When are you leaving? I was due to go today, but I'll stay over and pick you up around tennish tomorrow, if that's all right with you. I don't think Sean will have any objection. It will save him a journey, won't it?'
Sarah stared down at the set in front of her. 'Go where?' she asked, and at the ensuing silence realised that she had not switched over. 'Go where?' she repeated, when she had pushed the switch over for Kathy to hear her.
`Haven't you seen the paper?' asked Kathy. `It's front page news. Your paper seems to have scooped the lot! Sean's got a terrific write-up. He's got the credit, of course, for the find,' she went on happily, 'and he's going to be too busy
with the press from now on to worry about you. Tell him I'll pick you up. Isn't it exciting?' she babbled on, and then the line went dead.
Sarah went back to the kitchen in a kind of dream. She couldn't really believe it was all over. `Mrs Bandaman is going to pick me up tomorrow, Lin,' she said, still trying to come to terms with the news. 'It seems that your boss has become famous overnight,' she went on. 'No doubt he'll have to leave for the city himself soon.'
Lin looked up from the lunch that he was preparing for them. 'Boss not like press,' he said simply. 'Lin thinks that's why he went off this morning. No want any more calls. Home address not known, you see, boss been in papers before.'
Sarah looked hard at him. 'Are you telling me he knew it would be in the papers today?' she asked.
Lin nodded. 'Got call soon after Missy Bandaman left. Told me to say he was out. Missy Bandaman different,' he added simply.
Sarah stared at him while she digested this news. In that case, she reasoned, he must have known that the news had been released when he gave her that setdown the previous evening! Of all the—just wait until he got back!
CHAPTER NINE
SARAH'S fury had to wait, however, until the early evening when Sean did put in an appearance. By that time she had calmed herself down to a cold simmering anger. She had also changed into `something decent' and now wore another of Kathy's blouses.
As the hours had gone by during the day, the more certain she was that Sean was at the Cook station, making up for lost time where Pauline was concerned, no doubt, and probably telling her the whole story. Not that it mattered to her, she told herself, pulling herself up sharply when she saw where these thoughts were leading her.
There was no ac
counting for taste. If Pauline Cook wanted Sean Cartier for a husband, then Sarah felt sorry for her. She had obviously only seen one side of him, the side that was charming and indolent, and had no idea how ruthless he could be in getting his own way.
Shortly after dinner that evening Sarah, refusing to wait until he deigned to see her, sought him out for the show down, and found him just finishing his coffee in the lounge.
`Congratulations,' she said, in a tight hard voice. 'I noted that you didn't see fit to inform me that the news of the strike had been released to the press.'
Sean's blue eyes regarded her lazily, taking in
the smart blouse, and the high flush of indignation on her cheeks. 'What's the hurry?' he drawled maddeningly. 'I thought you were settling down nicely. You get on all right with Lin, don't you?' He looked away from her and studied the silver coffee pot. 'I suppose it has been a bit cramped for you, being confined to the homestead. No reason now, of course, for you to keep within bounds. We've got around two hundred acres here, and it includes a small creek. I could loan a couple of mounts from the Cooks, I presume you do ride? We'd only have a couple of weeks before the weather turned—not that we get it as bad as they do further up north, but it does curtail outings.'
Sarah stared at him. Did he really think she was fool enough to fall for that? Here he was, offering her—what was he offering her? A little dalliance, that's what it was. He wasn't intending to go back to the city, that much was obvious. He couldn't be bothered to run her back to Darwin, and had come up with an idea of killing two birds with one stone. For a couple of weeks of his charming company, she was supposed to forget his earlier treatment of her. An echo of something he had said to her at the start of their acquaintance came to mind at that point. 'You'll never know how I feel about you.' Sarah took a deep breath. She did know! She knew only too well, and she wasn't about to make a fool of herself falling into the trap.
`That's very kind of you,' she managed to get out civilly, although she did not feel very civil, and would have preferred to resort to plain
speaking, 'but Mrs Bandaman is picking me up tomorrow. She was kind enough to remember me when she saw the paper this morning,' laying great emphasis on the 'remember' bit, and gratified to see Sean's eyes narrow in annoyance.
`I thought she was due to leave the Deckmans today,' he replied, telling Sarah all she had wanted to know. That was why he hadn't said anything to her earlier, or his sister either. With no immediate help to get her off the property, Sarah would again have been at the mercy of Sean Cartier's discretion.
`So she said, when she spoke to me on the air this morning,' Sarah replied, feeling a lift of spirits at the thought that at last she had got the better of him. 'But she decided to stay over to give me a lift out. She mentioned that you'd be too busy fending off the press to bother about me, so it's worked out fine, hasn't it?' she finished brightly, and turned to go, having no wish to push her luck.
`Looking forward to the bright lights again?' Sean's harsh voice halted her before she reached the door.
Sarah's brows lifted in surprise at this sudden attack. Now he was reverting back to normal, and she might as well give him his money's worth. 'Of course!' she got out, adding for good measure, 'And all those cosy dinner dates and dubious proposals. As you say, I've missed them!'
That should have been her exit, but Sean had other ideas and he covered the distance between them with a look of fury on his face that completely erased the simpering smile Sarah had
conjured up to match her words, and was now replaced with a startled one. He was going to murder her, she thought.
The next minute she was in his arms and being kissed with a ferocity that hardly helped to subdue those earlier fears of hers.
If one could die by being almost totally eclipsed by a man's arms, and given no breathing space by hard lips set only on punishment, then she was being murdered, she thought weakly, and in the midst of it all, she treacherously thought it wasn't a bad way to go out, because she desperately wanted to respond to those searching lips of his, and throw caution to the winds, but her pride saw her through.
When he released her, she was weak but determined to hold out against him. 'Thanks for the d-demonstration,' she got out breathlessly, but to her horror her eyes filled with tears, and not trusting herself to say any more, she was beyond it anyway, she hurried out of the room.
`I'm free, I'm free!' she kept repeating once she had got to her room, feeling a dire need to stiffen herself up with the thought, and not allow any other thoughts to take over. Tomorrow I'm on my way, and this time there's going to be no hiccups. It's going to be wonderful, back on the job again. To be able to please myself what I do, where I go.
Sarah was still convincing herself of how great everything was going to be as she fell asleep that night, and refused to try to understand why she did not feel as overjoyed as she should have at the prospect of freedom.
Up bright and early the next morning, she was still haunted by that unaccountable depression, that had been trying to take hold of her since the previous evening, but was slightly cheered by the prospect that Sean Cartier was not a man to give in quite so easily. It was plain that he had got it all worked out that she should stay on at the homestead and provide him with some amusement while he dodged the newshounds.
In her mind's eye she pictured him striding into the kitchen, having already been on the air to his sister to tell her that he would see to Miss Helm's departure himself, and tell her not to bother to make the journey. He would enjoy telling Sarah that.
Some people, she told herself, didn't believe in taking no for an answer; she would just have to spell it out to him. It wasn't often that he lost out, but he had met his match in Sarah Helm, she told herself proudly.
In the event, no such fine display on her part was called for, for Lin was washing up Sean's breakfast dishes when Sarah got down to the kitchen. 'Boss off early. Meeting bigwigs in city,' he commented in his dry way.
Sarah experienced a variety of feelings at this news. After all that smooth talk Sean had given her about spending two weeks on vacation! And all the time he had known of this meeting! She drew in a deep breath. It had just been an excuse for keeping her chained to the homestead on the pretence of enjoying a flirtation with her.
Thank goodness she had had the sense to turn him down, for it had obviously altered his plans.
Now she could see the way he had planned it. After her capitulation to his deadly charms, he would have casually mentioned some time during the next day that he had been called back to the city, and she would have got stuck there until he recalled her existence!
A nasty thought then assailed her. 'Mrs Bandaman's still picking me up, isn't she?' she asked Lin anxiously.
Lin looked surprised. 'Boss said Missy Bandaman come for you,' he said.
Even so, Sarah couldn't feel easy in her mind until Kathy Bandaman actually drew up in front of the homestead, and she was installed in the car, and after a kindly farewell to Lin, and almost bursting into tears at his confident, 'Missy come again,' prediction, they were off.
`I don't know how to thank you, Mrs Bandaman,' Sarah said quickly, to stop herself dwelling on Lin's hopeful but definitely wrong forecast.
`Oh, do call me Kathy,' Mrs Bandaman said. `I'm only too pleased to be able to help. It was through Pauline really that I knew about you. It's not like Sean to burden himself with a stray female, less still take one to the homestead. It's a kind of a haven. No entertaining, no unexpected visitors, not unless you count Pauline, and she wouldn't have known that Sean was back if it hadn't been for old Joe at the garage,' Kathy added.
Sarah wondered if 'old Joe' had got the rough edge of Sean's tongue as Lin had surmised he would. For her part, she was devoutly grateful to
him. It had certainly put the cat among the pigeons as far as Sean Cartier's plans were concerned.
Sarah saw that they were now coming on to a highway. 'You must think me dense,' she said, 'but I've no id
ea where I am, or where we're heading.'
Kathy's mouth twisted wryly. 'Typical Sean!' she commented. 'Well, we're about thirty miles away from Pine Creek. That's where the Deckmans live, and where I've been staying. I've been promising to visit for years, and when Luke, my husband, had to go off to Newcastle on business, I grabbed the opportunity. It was now or next year—the wet's on the way, and it can make travel uncomfortable. We've got three hours ahead of us to get to Darwin, and it was good of Julia to loan me her car again. Her son works in Darwin, and he'll pick it up from the airport. It's so much better than public transport, isn't it?' she mused cheerfully.
Sarah agreed with her, although she wouldn't have minded using Shanks's pony, if it meant her freedom!
`Oh, I've brought along the paper for you to see,' Kathy said, 'it's on the back seat,' and Sarah leant back and picked it up. 'As you see, you've been credited with the scoop,' Kathy went on. `Still, you're used to seeing yourself in print, aren't you, and I hope it makes up for everything,' she added kindly.
Sarah's eyes were on the large double spaced headline of her paper that stated boldly, `STRIKE OF THE CENTURY!' and went on
with the caption underneath that read `by our special correspondent, Sarah Helm.'
Sarah's first thought was for the other papers, who must have been chewing nails, and had had to wait for the evening edition to follow the story up. She could imagine the dark looks she would get from her erstwhile companions, and she wouldn't find herself too popular for a while. Her second thoughts were very different. How come she had got the credit for the scoop? Sean had kept his promise to Eddie, obviously, but there had been no need to highlight her part in it. Had Eddie made a point of signing her off in fine flourish, in gratitude for the scoop?
Her eyes scanned the fine print below that set out in scientific terms the value of the find. The more she read, the more indignant she became. Eddie had no right to put her name to work as detailed as this; she had had her share of scoops in the past, but she had earned them, and had no wish to take credit for something she had not done. She gave an exasperated sigh and laid the paper down on her knees.
