Call of the Mountain

by Macgregor, Miriam

  Later, when the plates had been stacked into the dishwasher, she was overcome by weariness, and, asking to be excused, she said to Catherine, 'I'm afraid I've wasted too much time during the weekend. I'll take the manuscript to bed and spend some time reading.'

  Brett followed her into the library, his face set. 'I hear what you said to Catherine,' he gritted. 'So coming out with me was a waste of time? Thank you very much. Bored, were you?'

  She lifted a chapter of Mountain Memory from the table, then turned to face him. 'I didn't mean it the way you imagine,' she informed him coolly, 'but you must realise that the sooner I get this job done, the sooner I'll be on my way back to Auckland.'

  `With Paul following hard on your heels!' he snarled at her.

  She ignored the remark and brushed past him, clutching the typewritten pages to her chest. But when she was in bed it became impossible to concentrate on the troubles, trials and earthquakes that shook the early settlements of Taranaki. Instead she saw only the dark images of Brett Arlington.

  At last she laid the manuscript aside and stared unseeingly across the room. Had she met her own personal earthquake in the form of this man? The mere thought of him was beginning to shake her sufficiently to send the blood pounding through her veins.

  But she was being a fool, she told herself firmly.

  Brett had no real feeling for her, and if she allowed him to get a grip on her heart she would be completely insane. And with this decision she snatched up the manuscript and made a further determined effort to read, frowning at the pages as she scanned the lines.

  Nevertheless, before she fell asleep she slipped out of bed and crossed the room to stand at the window. Gazing beyond the near fields towards the shadowy rising bush-clad slopes, and at the moonlight glistening on the high snowy peak, she spoke softly.

  `Huh, you and your magic, Taranaki! You can call and call, but I'll not hear you. I'll return to Auckland—and there I'll remain!'

  CHAPTER FIVE

  THE next morning was wet. Rain poured from a leaden sky, drenching the gardens and forming ponds in various parts of the lawn. The mountain, wrapped in a mantle of low thick cloud, was entirely invisible.

  When Lisa went into the kitchen for breakfast there was no sign of either Brett or Mary. Brett's absence disappointed her, yet not for the world would she ask his whereabouts. However, the information inadvertently came from Catherine.

  `Did the phone wake you early this morning?' she asked. 'John Yates rang for Brett to come as quickly as possible. It appears that two of the pedigree cows had decided to calve at the same time and both seemed to be having difficulties. These things always happen on a dirty wet day. The vet's with them now and all's well, especially as they've both given birth to heifer calves.'

  `And Mary—where is she?' Lisa was almost afraid to ask the question, fearing that perhaps the previous evening's irritations were preventing Mary from joining them at the breakfast table.

  But Catherine's explanation reassured her. 'She's gone to Stratford to see if she can match wool for a jersey she's knitting. She said she'll be away for most of the day, so you'll be able to work undisturbed. Brett lit the fire in the library before he left, so the room should be nice and warm.'

  And indeed it was. Lisa looked at the blazing pine logs and at the well-filled woodbox, realising that despite the worry of the cows Brett had still found time to attend to her comfort. It was typical of him,

  she thought, recognising that he was a man of few words but plenty of action.

  The dullness of the morning caused her to switch on the standard lamp, then, drawing its glow nearer the fire, she curled up in an armchair with another chapter of Catherine's manuscript. As Gordon Bishop had said, the book was far too long, but apart from that fault Lisa was pleasantly surprised by its construction and by Catherine's style of writing.

  When Catherine brought coffee in at mid-morning Lisa stretched herself, then sipped the hot drink gratefully. 'Have you heard how the new calves are progressing?' she asked.

  It was really another way of asking if Brett had returned, but apparently he had not, because Catherine said, 'No, but they'll be in the vet's good hands.' She chatted for a few more minutes, then gathered the mugs and said, 'Well, I'll leave you to get on with it.'

  Lisa continued to read, skimming through the pages rapidly as this was only the preliminary part of the long task ahead. When lunchtime came she went to the dining room fully expecting Brett to be in for the midday meal, but still there was no sign of him. The room seemed empty without his dominant presence, and it was difficult to disguise her disappointment, which was more acute than she cared to admit.

  Catherine kept up a flow of chatter as she served a rich vegetable soup, some of it about Mary, but most of it about Brett. It was easy to see that she was very fond of them both, and it was almost as though she was taking advantage of their absence to inform Lisa of their domestic situation.

  `They've been good stepchildren to me,' she said reminiscently. 'When their father died the property was left equally among the three of us. However, a legacy from their mother's parents had been well invested for them, and it wasn't long before Brett was

  in a position to buy not only my share of the place, but Mary's as well. It means he's the owner of Lynton, which is a valuable property.'

  Lisa felt that a comment of some sort was expected of her. 'One would never doubt that he's the master of the establishment,' she remarked. 'He's really quite forceful

  `And Brett's a most eligible man,' Catherine added, her hazel eyes holding a speculative gleam as they rested upon Lisa. 'Personally, I consider it high time he found himself a wife.'

  For some reason Lisa found difficulty in meeting her eyes. 'I'm sure he'll do that, when it suits him.' Then, hesitantly, 'When that time comes, you'll continue to live here?'

  `Oh no. When Brett marries I'll buy a flat in New Plymouth and Mary will probably live with me—unless she herself is already married by then.'

  Lisa felt she had to ask the question. 'You'd like to see her married to Paul Mason?'

  Catherine frowned. 'I thought so at one time, but now I'm not so sure. All that talk about change last night has made me wonder about it, but I suppose Mary's association with him will just have to run its course.'

  `I'm sure it will,' agreed Lisa, then, not wishing to become involved in a discussion about Paul, she escaped back into the library, where she again buried her head in the manuscript.

  It was late afternoon before she saw Brett. He strode into the room carrying more short lengths of bluegum for the woodbox, and as she looked at him she felt herself so strongly drawn towards him it wasn't funny. At last she dragged her eyes from the darkness of his hair which contrasted with the maize colour of his polo-necked jersey. 'How is the bovine maternity ward?' she asked.

  `Mothers and daughters all doing well.' He came

  '

  closer to look at her critically. 'Have you been reading all day? Your eyes are beginning to look like a couple of burnt holes in a cream blanket!'

  `Thank you for the kind words—' Her voice faltered as she saw his gaze move to rest on her lips, and as his thoughts seemed to reach out to her she became conscious of quickening pulses and the slight flush that began to steal into her cheeks.

  At last she felt she had to say something. 'I'll admit I've kept at it fairly solidly. I can understand Catherine's mind becoming involved with the past. Small glimpses make one want to see more.'

  `Those early years challenged the courage of everyone. I know I'd have enjoyed them.' Brett's hands gripped her shoulders as he turned her to face him. 'Would you have enjoyed being there too? What sort of a pioneer wife would you have made, Lisa Longmore?'

  His action had been unexpected, and she looked at him, puzzled. Did he mean—with him? Not daring to presume such a thing, she said, 'Not a very good one, I'm afraid. I'd have been terrified, especially during Taranaki's early days when wars with the Maoris seemed to go on and on for
years. Life must have been traumatic for the women living in outlying districts.'

  His brows drew together as his hands dropped to his sides. 'Are you saying you wouldn't have followed the man you loved?'

  Lisa knew he was watching her closely, but she returned his gaze unflinchingly. 'I would have expected the man I loved to have had a little consideration for me—to think twice before placing me in such danger. And apart from living in terror of the Maories there were bush fires to contend with.'

  `Plenty of women stood up to the troubles and trials of those days,' he said pointedly. 'Naturally, it took guts.' His voice held a tinge of derision.

  `No doubt.' She forced herself to remain cool. 'But

  you must remember that those men went into the back country because it was something they wanted to do. The women had little or no option. At that period they were mere chattels who followed their men like blind idiots, suffering all kinds of privations because that was what the men not only expected, but demanded.'

  Brett gave a short laugh. 'You've sure got your knife into some of those fellows!'

  `It's the thought of the inequality that annoys me. It was a man's world, and some of them were mighty inconsiderate—but that was before Women's Lib raised its courageous head.'

  `You're giving three cheers for Women's Lib?'

  `Definitely. As I read this book I can't help thinking of those poor pioneer women, many with hungry children, running out of food until the next bullock wagon arrived from New Plymouth—some with sick children and no doctor within miles, others walking through the dark bush to help each other in childbirth

  She stopped for breath and fell silent, her jaw dropping slightly as a thought struck her with sudden force. The root of it had been her own words, and it caused her to get up and move restlessly about the room, then pause beside the fireplace where she stared into the flames while it developed in her mind.

  Brett watched her intently. 'What's going on in that head of yours? You look as though you've been hit by an inspiration.'

  `Yes, I have—I think.'

  `Well, out with it. I'll tell you if it's a good one.' She looked at him doubtfully. 'I should discuss it

  with Catherine first. It's her book—and her decision.' `Are you sure it's her decision? I thought you're

  supposed to be editing this manuscript.'

  `I mean it's for her to decide whether or not she'll follow the idea through. It may not appeal to her.' He became exasperated. Will you please tell me

  what you have in mind—or must I shake it out of you?'

  `It's the stories about the women, coupled with all the trivia which mainly concern the women,' Lisa explained. 'Lift it all out and the manuscript would be relieved of many thousands of words, on top of which Catherine would have a second book.'

  He was looking at her with new respect. 'By Jove, I think you've come up with an excellent idea! I'm beginning to believe you really do know your job.'

  `Are you saying you doubted it?' she laughed, glowing beneath his praise, then she brushed it aside as she said, 'Apart from everything else those pioneer women deserved to be remembered.'

  `You're right, and I can just see Catherine getting her teeth into this lot. She's spent ages trying to think of a subject for another book, and now you've come up with this idea!' He made an impulsive movement and again grabbed her by the shoulders, staring down into her face as he held her against his chest.

  A shiver of delight slithered down Lisa's spine and her heart began to thud as she waited for the feel of his lips on her own. Somehow she felt it would be a kiss that was long and gently passionate—a kiss that would tell her she was becoming someone of importance in his life.

  Brett held her for several moments, almost as though waiting for her to protest and push against his chest, but when she failed to do so his arms tightened about her body until his hands began a quietly sensuous movement as they massaged the muscles of her back.

  Slowly she raised her face, inviting his kiss, but to her intense surprise and utter chagrin it did not come. His lips did not find hers, and instead of the passion she longed for he merely rested his cheek against her forehead in a gesture that was little more than brotherly.

  A vague feeling of having been snubbed niggled at her, and she almost felt herself go pale as she realised he'd known she'd been waiting for his caress. Anger with herself more than with him caused her to twist and escape from his arms, and she crossed the room to stare unseeingly through the window. She had been there only a few moments before Mary came into the room.

  Brett said mildly, 'I thought I heard a car door slam. I guessed you'd arrived home.' And although he spoke to Mary his eyes glinted wickedly as they sent Lisa a mocking glance.

  His teasing explanation sent a flush to her cheeks, then her attention was caught by the unexpected sight of Mary's sparkling eyes and glowing face. The change made her look quite lovely.

  Nor was her radiant appearance lost upon Brett. `Where have you been?' he demanded quietly, his eyes raking her face.

  `Oh, into Eltham and then on to Stratford. I did some shopping and saw a few friends,' she added carelessly.

  `Are you trying to tell me you haven't spent the whole day with Paul?' Brett demanded suspiciously.

  `What makes you think so?' she retorted, on the defensive.

  `Because it's written all over your face. Come on, admit it!'

  `Okay, suppose I have been with Paul? Since when have I had to account for my movements to you, big brother?'

  `Since the day you were born—or almost,' he snapped. 'You were at his house, I presume?'

  `So what? We had a lot to talk about.' She sent a quietly triumphant smile towards Lisa as she added, `We were making plans.'

  `Indeed? What sort of plans?' Brett queried, frowning.

  `Mind your own flaming business!' Mary snapped defiantly, and ran from the room.

  Lisa's finely drawn brows arched as she looked at him. 'I must say your attitude surprises me. I thought that this was an association you were trying to encourage, but now you sound as though you're no longer pleased about Mary becoming close to Paul.'

  The scowl still darkened his brow. 'I'm damned if I know what to think. I must admit I was uneasy about him from the beginning, but I pushed those doubts aside because I could see Mary was keen on him. However, some of your remarks concerning him have now stirred the misgivings I had in the first instance.' He was silent for several minutes before he added, 'I'd be interested to learn more about their plans—whatever they are.'

  Lisa also felt an interest in their plans, although she was assailed by a feeling of unease because, from the little she had seen of them together, she did not really believe that Paul was in love with Mary. Further, it would have surprised her if the plans concerned marriage.

  But what could she herself say or do about the situation? As Brett had said, she had already dropped several warning hints about Paul, but she now decided that in future she would mind her own business. Silence would be her golden rule.

  In the meantime she was anxious to discuss her own plan concerning the women in Catherine's book, but the opportunity to do so did not arise until during dinner that evening. Nor did it take Catherine more than a few seconds to grasp and understand Lisa's idea. Her eyes shone as she thought of it.

  `It's splendid—I like it,' she exclaimed happily. `I've been trying to find a subject for another book, and there it was, right under my nose!'

  `It'll mean more research,' Lisa warned. 'The women already in the book will have to be extended,

  and you'll have to find others to go with them. A manuscript of about eighty thousand words should be sufficient.'

  `I'll do it.' Catherine was full of enthusiasm.

  `It will also mean that my job with Mountain Memory will be made much shorter and easier,' Lisa pointed out. 'It'll enable me to get rid of thousands of words in less time. Your brother was right when he said there was more than one book in the manuscript.

>   Mary looked at her in sudden dismay. 'Does that mean you'll go home sooner than expected?'

  Lisa felt a sense of surprise. 'Naturally, if it shorten, the work—although I find it hard to believe that you'll be sorry to see me go home.'

  `Yes, actually, perhaps I shall.' Mary looked down at her plate, her disappointment obvious, and an evasiveness about her that made Lisa look at her thoughtfully.

  `Would you like to come home with me?' asked Lisa. 'The invitation is still open, you know.'

  `No, thank you, I have other plans.' The words came hastily.

  `So you said before,' Brett said dryly. 'Why don't you tell us about them? What exactly are these plans?'

  `They're my own business,' Mary retorted stubbornly.

  Watching her, Lisa was again puzzled, and as the evening wore on she became filled with the conviction that, for some strange reason, Mary was not anxious to see her return to the North Shore. To put this though to the test she referred to her work by saying casually `I'm afraid it'll be ages and ages before I'm reall finished with Mountain Memory.'

  The words caused Mary to brighten visibly and Lisa knew that her suspicion had been correct. Nor was the reason difficult to fathom. Hadn't Paul said something about finding a job on the North Shore? And with herself at home did Mary fear he would be

  lost to her? But what were the 'plans' she had referred to?

  The rest of the week passed quickly, with Lisa spending her days in the library. When she began work at eight-thirty each morning the woodbox was always filled, the fire was burning brightly, but there was never a sign of Brett. Even during lunchtime he was seldom in the house.

  At morning and afternoon tea breaks the need for exercise sent her outside to take a quick walk round the garden and along the drive, where the umbrella fronds of the tall tree-ferns never ceased to fascinate her. And while she was taking these walks her eyes scanned every direction for the sight of Brett, but apart from the faint sound of the farm motorbike in the distance there was little or no sign of him. Was he deliberately avoiding her?