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Green Paddocks

Page 9

by Jane Corrie


  Dave straightened up and put a tick against an item on a list he held. 'Socialising, I suppose,' he murmured with twinkling eyes. 'Heard you had company.'

  Holly made a wry face. 'Mr Chester's guest,' she said, then remembered that Dulcie had not strictly been his guest, she had invited herself; still, none of that would matter to Dave. 'Dave? Could Pegleg get out of that valley?' she asked abruptly, holding her breath for the answer.

  He gave her a quick look and shook his head. 'Nope, he couldn't,' he said dryly, then gave her another of those darting glances of his. 'And it's no use you hoping he could, and,' he went on, shaking a finger at her, 'no use you thinking of cutting him out of that herd, either. Once those gates are open half of 'em would be through before you could turn round—just in case you got any ideas on that score buzzing round your head.'

  Holly felt ashamed; she had simply refused to credit Hayes with a single act of kindness, had actually been hoping it was Dave. Milly was right, she was so set on disliking him she had lost all sense of fairness.

  Dave watched her closely and she gave him a rueful grin. 'I did think of doing something like that,' she said quietly.

  'Now, girl, you know very well—' he began, but Holly interrupted him.

  'I didn't have to,' she said simply. 'He's free. I've just seen him on the outer boundary.'

  Dave started, and stared at her with narrowed eyes. 'There'll be hell to pay if that lot's got out,' he muttered, and began to head for the door.

  It's all right, Dave,' she said quickly. 'Only Pegleg's on the loose, honestly. I only found out because I went out to the valley early yesterday morning.' She looked away from him. 'As I said, I did have a mad idea of somehow getting him out, but he wasn't there. I couldn't have missed him, I thought you'd got him out, or he'd been trucked to town.' She fiddled with her hatband. 'You know what I mean.'

  Dave whistled through his teeth. 'Well, I'll be danged! He sure was there to start with,' he said slowly. 'Yesterday morning, you say? Well, they've been checked since then and all secure.' He gave her a lopsided grin. 'Well, girl, looks like you got yourself another white knight, don't it? Human this time!' he teased.

  Holly felt dreadful about the whole thing. No name had been mentioned, but both were aware of the identity of the 'knight'.

  'Getting on a bit better now, I take it?' Dave grinned.

  Holly moved away quickly to cover her embarrassment and started looking idly round the stores. Her eye caught the shelf on which some material was stored and rested on a roll of deep green velvet pushed to the back of the shelf. She must have seen it dozens of times before, but now she looked at it with interest. An idea was forming; Hayes had said something about a window opening out on to the verandah. It meant a large one, casement type. Well, it would need curtains, wouldn't it? She thought of the present curtaining, a heavy beige-patterned material that hung over every one of the homestead windows. It was time for a change, surely? But was there enough material? Climbing up on a slightly unsteady chair, she attempted to get the roll down.

  'Hold on,' called Dave, 'let me get it for you.' Reaching out, he brought the roll down for her putting it on the long store counter. 'It's a party dress we're wanting now, is it?' he teased.

  Holly's brows creased as she carefully removed the plastic wrapping from the roll and fingered the velvet. 'Of course not! Curtains, that's what I want,' she replied, as she tried to assess how much material was there. It looked a complete roll. 'Stand at the other end of the counter, Dave,' she ordered. 'I want some idea of how long it is.'

  'As long as you don't want me to model it,' he grinned, and moved to the end of the counter.

  Holly watched as the smooth expanse of the rich green was exposed. Her eyes pricked slightly; something told her this had been her mother's choice of curtaining. She didn't know how she knew, but she was certain. She couldn't think of a more fitting purpose it could be used for than as a peace-offering to Hayes. He would know the reason she had applied herself to the task. Milly was not going to be given the job of making them up—she, Molly, would sew them—every single inch of them. When the length of the counter had been covered Dave held the remainder of the roll, about half, up against his body. 'Sure looks as if you've got enough to fix the town hall,' he commented, then peeped over the top of the material at Holly still lost in thought. 'Get me for Queen of the May!' he grinned.

  She glanced up abstractedly, but the sight of Dave's rugged face peering at her over the soft folds of the material pulled her out of her reverie and she burst out chuckling. 'No, Dave,' she managed to get out. 'It's just not you !'

  'Would someone mind explaining just what the hell's going on?' said an icy voice from the door.

  Dave dropped the material as if it burnt him and looked sheepishly towards the man striding towards them with a grim expression on his face.

  Guiltily aware that she had got Dave into trouble, Holly tried to make amends. 'It's my fault, Hayes. I asked Dave to help me unravel this roll ...' she ended lamely, for something told her her explanation was just not going to help one little bit. The reverse, in fact, as she saw the tightening of Hayes' jaw and the glacial touch of the eyes. Grey ice, she thought absently.

  He turned his attention to Dave. 'I know,' he said cuttingly, 'the duties of head stockman are varied, but not this varied. Would you mind applying yourself to the work you're supposed to be doing?'

  Dave's deep tan took on a deeper hue, he picked up his list and pushed his hat on his head. 'Sorry, boss,' he muttered, and made a hasty exit.

  Holly's fingers closed round the soft material, her heart going out to Dave and the humiliation she had brought on him. It was so unfair ! 'Need you,' she said quietly, 'have been quite so hard on him? He'd finished checking the wire store when I arrived and it couldn't have been more than a few minutes anyway.'

  'He has his orders,' Hayes replied harshly.

  Holly looked at him. Orders? she thought. What orders? To keep out of her way? Was Hayes so certain she would try and make trouble? She had given her word, hadn't she, not to interfere with the running of the ranch. She felt very close to tears, it didn't seem as if she could do anything right where Hayes was concerned. She turned away hastily and looked back at the material. It appeared she wasn't the only one with a biased opinion. It was all very well for Milly to scold, but how would she like to be in the same position? Her lips set.

  Watching the stubborn expression set on her face, Hayes nodded silently. 'Perhaps,' he said, 'I ought to tell you what will result from your continual flagrant disregard of my orders. Instant dismissal for the men concerned. I have no authority over your movements, but my men are a different proposition. Dave was damn lucky I didn't make an example of him. Not,' he said bitterly, 'that it would have been his fault. I'm well aware of the awkward position he was placed in.' He stared down at the velvet with a look of disdain on his face. 'And for what?' he said harshly. 'For a length of dress material I Did Dulcie's clothes give you an appetite for softer living? Will Milly have to pore over dress patterns on top of everything else she has to do?' He caught the material Holly was lingering and flung it out of her grasp with a force that threw the roll on to the storeroom floor. 'The colour will suit you,' he ground out. 'In fact, it's perfect. It could have cost a good man his job, but I'm sure that wouldn't worry you.' He turned on his heel as if to leave.

  Holly went white. Again she felt a sense of waiting on his part, waiting for her to shout and rave at him, and for this very reason she held the emotion surging through her in tight check. She hit back the only way she could. 'You've got it all wrong,' she said, trying hard to bring a light note into her voice. 'I wouldn't dream of emulating Miss Fields. You see, I didn't care for her taste at all. In fact, I feel extremely sorry for her.'

  He took a quick intake of breath, then grated out, 'Then I shall convey your sentiments to her tomorrow. You will no doubt be pleased to hear I've finished my end of the business. The manager will take over some time during the week.'<
br />
  Holly could be forgiven for wanting to let out a shout of joy, but she managed to restrain herself, and bent to gather the material from the floor.

  'You'll be giving a celebration party, I suppose,' he sneered.

  Holly nodded vigorously. 'I'll get Milly to drop everything,' she declared wildly. 'I just must have the dress in time. You did say it suited me, the colour, I mean?'

  The only answer was a slamming door, the force of which nearly took it off its hinges.

  She stared down at the material. To the devil with the curtaining! She would rather have died than for Hayes to find out what she wanted the cloth for. He was right ! It would make a fine dress and it would suit her! And what was more, she would get Milly to drop everything and make it up into the most beautiful evening dress possible. Milly was pretty clever with a needle.

  This mood persisted until the evening. Holly did not go to the dining room for dinner, but ate in the kitchen with a very subdued Milly who after one attempt at making her put in an appearance said, 'It's his last night here, girl, couldn't you just...?'

  Holly couldn't 'just'. It would make no difference; they were incompatible—at this thought she found herself grinning. It was what was said of married folk, wasn't it? Her mood sobered as she caught Milly's downcast expression. She sighed; Milly could not understand her attitude, and indeed there were times when Holly herself could not justify her belligerent behaviour towards Hayes. His very presence seemed to bring out the worst in her. It might of course have helped if he hadn't had such a down on her. She had not been given much of a chance to prove herself. Recalling his words on her not caring what happened to Milly, she felt a rush of indignation. That was as much as he knew! She sighed again; it was too late now for recriminations. She bit her lip. Well, he was going now, wasn't he? At last she would be able to have a little peace without the feeling of Big Brother breathing down her neck.

  Soon after ten Holly went to her room. She could no longer stand Milly's funereal face or unspoken censure. Anyone would think it was all her fault he was going. Milly wasn't worldly enough to realise that a man like Hayes Chester did exactly what he wanted to do, regardless of any opposition.

  Leaning her elbows on the bedroom sill, Holly gazed out across the bright moonlit paddocks, seeing how the moonbeams played on the trees and shrubs, lighting up bright patches here and there. The peace of the scene bought a softening to her heart. Her eye caught a streak of light coming from the study and her lips twisted. Hayes would be there winding up his affairs before his early leave the next morning. Her eyes swept out to the paddocks again. She had never known a man like him before—totally unbending. She couldn't ever visualise him going back on his word, and yet he had ... She paused for a moment. Pegleg ... Guiltily Holly remembered Hayes' one kindly gesture, and the way she had spoken to him in the vegetable garden, and what she'd said to him not much more than a few hours ago.

  She straightened up slowly and squared her shoulders. Someone had to make the effort, and she couldn't see him doing it after what she had said. With a determined expression she went to the study, telling herself that just for this once she would eat humble pie, come what may.

  The study door was open and Holly stood uncertainly on the threshold. Hayes looked up suddenly from the papers he was studying and the look he shot her hardly helped to give her encouragement. 'Well?' he asked coldly.

  Holly swallowed and moved further into the room. As her eyes met the cold grey ones she looked away quickly. 'I'm sorry, Hayes,' she said quietly. 'I oughtn't to have said what I did.'

  There was a moment's silence and she looked up to find him studying her, as if, she thought desperately, she were some insect that had wandered in. What more can I say? she thought. Does he want me to go down on my knees?

  He turned his attention back to the papers again and Holly felt a surge of the familiar anger sweep over her. Her hands clenched into small fists by her side.

  'So you're sorry, are you?' he murmured sardonically. 'Is that all you have to say?'

  Holly stared at him, then coloured. She had not thanked him for what he had done. 'No,' she said quickly. 'I want to thank you for all you've done.' She saw his brows rise in eloquent query. 'No—I really mean it,' she went on, desperate now to convey her feelings to him. Somehow it was very important he understood how she felt. 'If it hadn't been for you,' she earnestly assured him, 'I wouldn't still be at Green Paddocks—and not only that,' she rushed on, 'I know the men are grateful they still have work.'

  His head bent to his papers again, giving no sign he had heard a word she had said. Holly stood feeling lost and utterly miserable. She couldn't reach through that thick wall between them and she never would. She turned slowly towards the door, 'I'll miss you, Hayes,' she said simply, and was astonished to find she had told the truth. She would miss him!

  The taunting answer stopped her in her tracks before she had taken two paces. 'Not going soft and developing a tendresse for me, are you, Miss Drew?'

  Holly gasped. Of all the despicable creatures ! And she had almost gone down on her knees to him! For a moment she could not bring herself to answer. Besides anger, she knew another emotion —she was hurt, and not only her pride was suffering. 'Of course not!' she managed to get out lightly. 'I've seen what happens to the unfortunate ones who do, haven't I?' and she walked swiftly to the door. As she reached it, he said slowly but very distinctly,

  'Very sensible of you. For one moment you had me worried. I don't tangle with little girls, I prefer the sophisticated, more feminine type. You might do well to bear that in mind, in case, that is, I pay any future visits.'

  A bowl of cold water thrown at her would have had much the same effect as his words. It was an entirely uncalled-for comment, adding insult to injury. Holly turned back slowly and met his insolent gaze. 'I don't think you need have any fears in that direction,' she said quietly. 'No doubt you will be leaving early in the morning, so I shall wish you a good journey. Goodnight and goodbye, Mr Chester.' Her head was held high as she made her exit.

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  A FORTNIGHT passed; for the first week Holly felt slightly lost. Without the restraining hand of Hayes, she felt like a puppy let off its leash with no clear indication of how it should behave. She had been looking forward to this period in time for what seemed like years, and now it had actually arrived everything had gone flat on her. She began to look around for some occupation to put her mind to, and it was not long before she remembered the curtains. In spite of her angry reaction to Hayes' remarks, she had stuck to her original purpose and put the material aside for future use. Now she brought it out from the bottom of her wardrobe where she had pushed it out of sight and remembrance of his stinging words.

  Work had already begun on the verandah and windows, and a team of plumbers busy at work inside the house, which gave Holly the incentive she needed.

  Milly was not exactly cheerful during this period and had gone around shaking her head, not convinced that the new manager Hayes had sent would see to the ranch affairs half as well as Hayes had. She was still of the opinion that Hayes would have stayed on if Holly had been a little more friendly towards him. Not that she actually said so, but Holly knew her well enough to gauge her thoughts. 'He's a very busy man, Milly,' she tried to explain one morning after Milly had grumbled about Mr Jenkins not looking right for the job. Here, Holly was forced to agree with her. The new manager looked more like a bank official than a cattleman, but knowing Hayes Holly was sure the man knew his job; Hayes did not make mistakes like that. 'Coomela is his home, it's far larger than Green Paddocks. I was surprised he stayed as long as he did. My being friendly, as you put it, wouldn't have made the slightest difference.'

  Milly remained unconvinced and Holly gave up, resigning herself to a future with a miserable-looking Milly. However, at the start of the second week Milly suddenly perked up and was back to her usual cheery self. If Holly thought it odd, she said nothing, being only too grateful to have the old Mil
ly in residence again.

  There was a little argument over the making up of the curtains during which Milly tried to pull rank over her, but Holly stood firm, and surprisingly Milly gave way without looking hurt. Thinking about this later, Holly had given a wry smile. Milly had realised how much Holly needed to be kept occupied and had only really made the gesture of doing the work herself.

  While she sewed, Holly often found herself wishing Hayes would walk in and find her at the task, then she would hastily pull herself together. He would no doubt sarcastically inquire whether Milly had not found the time to make the dress yet, and had she to do it herself. That Holly was doing something for a useful purpose would never enter his autocratic head.

  Within three weeks, all the work had been completed. Holly had been so absorbed in her task she had not noticed the comings and goings of the workmen and Milly had not complained either, so it came as something of a shock when Milly pulled her out of the small parlour at the back of the homestead to look at the finished work. One thing Holly had to admit, when Hayes decided to go ahead, he went ahead I She had had visions of weeks and even months of workmen tramping about the place.

  A few days later, Holly stood in the saddling yard and gazed back at the homestead. A thrill of pride touched her as she saw the way the curtains blended in with the mellow old structure. She sighed and ruefully acceded that Hayes had been right; the enlargement of the windows and the addition of a casement below added dignity to the fine old house. Care had also been taken to keep to the original structural design. The verandah, though new, was a replica of the old one. In other words the old lady had received a face lift. Holly's brow creased; it must have cost a lot of money— rather more than she could lay claim to. Then she shrugged. It was typical of Hayes' way of doing things—nothing but the best for him. He must, she thought sadly, think an awful lot of Milly.

 

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