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Rimmer's Way

Page 7

by Jane Corrie


  As Della listened to his enthused account of the performance of the horses, it occurred to her that David was almost a fanatic where horses were concerned, and she thought of Joyce all those miles away, who felt exactly the same way about them, and she sighed, wishing she could have arranged a meeting between them. Different backgrounds they might have, but they were as one on the subject of horses.

  Mistaking her sigh, David looked at her and gave her a wide grin. 'They sure are beaut, aren't they?'

  Della smiled back at him and nodded her agreement.

  He stared back at the group and his face went solemn. 'Course, you gotta have plenty of money to breed 'em. Fetch a lot they do, on the market,' he sighed. 'Guess I'll never own one, though Cal said I might one day if I take up racing.'

  Della glanced at him quickly. There was a brooding look on his face. 'Don't you like racing?' she asked in some surprise.

  His blue eyes opened wide, 'Of course I do ! ' he answered, sounding just as surprised at Della for asking such a question.

  Della wondered if it was a question of money and David couldn't afford it, but Cal knew how he was placed, and he surely wouldn't suggest it if he knew it was impossible. 'Well then,' began Della, 'what's stopping you?'

  David looked down at the fence, a painful flush reddened his tanned face. 'Oh, it means I gotta go away,' he said diffidently. 'Join a big stable. Cal knows one that will take me.'

  Della was not fooled by his diffidence. He wanted to go badly, but something was holding him back. She wasn't sure that she ought to probe, but he had brought the subject up himself. 'You mean you don't really want to leave here, is that it?' she asked carefully.

  He shuffled his plimsolled feet and lightly aimed a kick at the post in front of him. 'Guess so—in a way,' he muttered, adding, 'and other things.' -

  'What other things?' queried Della, now determined to get to the bottom of whatever was worrying him.

  `Aw, just things,' he reasserted dully.

  Della thought she saw a light in the dark recesses of his reasoning. His father! Perhaps he was afraid the stigma would follow him around. The sad thing was, it could do—and she thought of Cora's attitude towards him.

  'Is it because of your father, David?' she asked gently.

  He stared at her, and a grim expression came into his eyes, and for a tense moment Della was afraid she had lost his confidence. Then he blinked and looked away back to the horses. 'She told you, I suppose?' was all he said.

  There was silence for a few seconds, and Della wished desperately she had held her tongue. She didn't know what to say to help ease things.

  Aiming another kick at the post, he said bitterly, 'She would! She's jealous of the attention Cal gives me.' He looked back at Della. 'That's why she's got it in for you. She's mad about Cal, thinks he ought to have married her. I'm glad he didn't,' he said fervently. 'He doesn't know what she gets up to when he's away on business. Regular flirt she is, makes eyes at all the hands, just trying them out like, but they've got the sense to keep their distance. They know what she is, j us' a plain old flirt.'

  Not so plain at that, thought Della, wondering how she could have thought David hadn't noticed much where the romantic stakes were concerned.

  'No, it's not that,' he went on, breaking into her musings, then he startled her by giving her a fierce look and demanding, 'If I tell you, promise you won't tell her,' he insisted.

  A little taken aback, Della said indignantly. 'If you mean Cora—well, we're not exactly soul mates, are we?'

  For the first time after his outburst, David grinned back at her. 'Guess not,' he said, then returned to his sombre expression. 'It means moving into lodgings—with other boys, I mean, and—and they'll laugh at me.' His hand clenched the rail in front of him. 'I haven't had much schooling, you see. Can't read much either. I learnt a bit when I first started going to school, but Dad was away a lot when I grew up and someone had to feed the pigs and other livestock.'

  His voice held a weary note in it, and Della longed to put a comforting hand on his arm but was afraid of his reaction. He didn't want pity, but he did need help.

  'At first,' he went on slowly, 'he used to make sure I got to school—later, he didn't seem to care— that was after Mum lit out. Even the school inspector stopped coming after me.'

  Now it was out, he fell silent, and Della cast about in her mind for the right things to say. She wondered whether there was such a thing as a night school he could attend, then as quickly as the thought came, she discarded it. That sort of education was only a follow-on for other careers, and even if he could be helped, David's fierce pride would not allow him to take the risk of being ridiculed, and Della couldn't blame him. Then she had another idea, and this time she was sure it was right.

  'Would you let me help you, David?' she said quietly. 'I've some books we could use for exercise, for reading, I mean. I'd like to help you if you'd let me.'

  For a moment he stared at her, then a light appeared in his eyes as he realised Della meant what she said, but just as suddenly as it appeared, the bleak look returned. 'She'd find out,' he said flatly. 'Always nosing around. She'd want to know where you was, wouldn't she?'

  He had a good point there, Della conceded sadly. Cora would find out, and she wouldn't spare David;

  particularly if she knew Della had David's allegiance. She met his troubled eyes with a smile. 'Where there's a will, there's a way, David. We'll think of something, don't worry.'

  Later, it occurred to her that Cal could not have been aware of David's plight. If he had been, she was sure he would have done something about it. It was too late to mention it now to him, not with the avid Cora either listening to the conversation, or getting to hear about it later.

  David could have told Cal the real reason for his refusal to join the riding stables in confidence, and known his confidence would not be misplaced, but Della was certain she knew the reason why he had not, and it was nothing to do with Cora.

  She had not missed the almost reverent way he spoke Cal's name. David obviously thought the world of him, with good reason, Della thought, for rescuing him from what must have been a very lonely and hard existence. Sighing, she knew it was David's pride again; he couldn't bear Cal to know how ignorant he was.

  Without meaning to, it appeared she had landed herself with a mission. At least it would give her something to do during her enforced stay at Rimmer's Way, and it was certainly worthwhile. The only problem was Cora, and keeping her from finding out about the lessons she hoped to be giving David in the very near future.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  AT dinner that evening Della found her morning adventure turning out to be a blessing in disguise.

  Cora's abrupt giggle on learning which horse had been allotted to Della was silenced by a look from Cal, but Della, on the alert for any opening that would relieve her of Cora's company, saw a way of accomplishing her wish.

  Smiling at Cal, Della thanked him for his thoughtfulness in providing her with a suitable mount, which was met by one of his piercing stares as if to ascertain that she was not being sarcastic. She then glanced at Cora, certain she would not give her away—it suited her books to keep Della in the novice stakes.

  'I do feel a little sorry for Cora, though,' she said sadly. 'Having to keep to my steady old trot, I mean,' and paused to let the fact sink in.

  'I'm afraid I won't be around for a few days anyway,' Cora replied rising to the bait, and gave Cal a conspiratorial look. 'Mother's arrived,' she said abruptly, adding quickly. 'but I shall be able to come to the races next weekend, Cal, I wouldn't miss that.'

  Della, who was thinking about Cora's extraordinary remark about her mother. She had spoken as if she were a visitor and not a resident at Cora's home. Feeling his gaze on her, Della did not wait for the inevitable question, but saved him the necessity of asking. 'Oh, I'll find something to do,' she said quickly. 'I've hardly explored the homestead area yet.'

  As he continued to watch her, she sensed a
gain the probe behind those autocratic grey eyes of his. `As a matter of fact,' he said mildly, 'that was not what I was going to ask you.'

  Although his tone was mild, Della was made to feel as if she had spoken out of turn, and waited for him to continue.

  `What I was going to say, was that I would get David to show you around. You've no objection to that, have you?'

  No objection! It was the perfect answer and would provide the opportunity she needed. `Of course not,' she replied quickly, hoping her relief gave nothing away.

  That subject closed, Cora began to talk about the coming races, and Della thankfully concentrated on her food, her mind busy planning the first lesson for David and how it was best to start. It all depended on how much he remembered of the alphabet. She could, she thought, make out some cards with the letters on and go from there. The question had to be asked twice, and she looked up guiltily at the definitely cold second inquiry.

  'Thank you,' Cal said icily. 'Now that we have your attention, I wanted to know if you'd care to attend the races.'

  Della's first reaction was to refuse politely, but on second thought she realised David would almost certainy be attending too, so there was no reason why she should not go as well. Besides, staying behind would not help to propagate her plan.

  After a slight hesitation, she said brightly, 'Oh, I'd love to go! Will there be a party and dancing afterwards?' she asked hopefully.

  Cora glanced swiftly at Cal, and Della followed her look. Cal's jaw had stiffened fractionally and Della felt a small surge of triumph. Disapproval was clearly pronounced in his clipped, 'I'm afraid not.'

  Della hastily dropped her glance in case he saw the glint of satisfaction in her eyes. 'Oh,' she said in a low disappointed voice.

  'Miss those sort of things, do you?' Cal asked abruptly, although there was a certain amount of interest in his voice.

  Della gave him a wistful smile. 'Well,' she said in a voice that suggested that she was trying to be brave about it, 'I suppose I got a bit spoilt on the journey out. There was so much going on—er parties and dances every night—it was all so gay ...' her voice petered out on a depressed note.

  Cora sat with her eyes fixed on Della in fascinated

  absorption; she even forgot to finish Luis' gorgeous lemon meringue. As the silence lengthened, she spoke quickly as if afraid this golden opportunity of getting rid of Della might be missed.

  `Do you like those things, Della?' she asked in an almost kindly way.

  Grateful for her co-operation, Della smiled brightly at her. 'Of course I do! Doesn't everybody?'

  Momentarily at a loss for words, Cora looked back to Cal who sat with slightly narrowed eyes watching Della, but did not seem interested enough in the conversation to partake as yet.

  Clearly disappointed, Cora was forced to play a lone hand. 'I'm afraid you'll have to do without parties and dances here,' she said kindly, as if talking to a small girl. 'Ranchers are busy people, they don't have time for that sort of thing.'

  `So I've noticed,' replied Della in the same despondent voice. then she looked back at Cal and gave him a bright expectant look. 'I could invite some people over, couldn't I, Cal? Alice and a few of your friends. We could have a party then; it would brighten up the place a bit,' she added for good measure.

  Cal's scowl told her she had scored a bull's eye, and his answer confirmed it. 'No, thank you!' he said crisply. 'As Cora said, we're busy folk, too busy for that kind of shindig.' he added grimly. 'You've a lot to learn about ranch life,' and giving Della a

  sardonic look he drawled, 'You might even get to like it.'

  Della got up suddenly as if the very thought frightened her, and with a typical Cora-like action she threw back her head and said dramatically, `With no parties—or dances?—shut away from everybody?' She swallowed; her words really did echo her unhappiness, and the tears that appeared suddenly in her large brown eyes were for real. 'I'm sorry,' she gulped, 'but I just can't see it,' and she rushed out of the room.

  A few minutes later Cal sought her out, and he was the last person Della had expected to see. Cora, she had expected, no doubt to follow up her sympathetic remarks and to push home the disadvantages of ranch life.

  After a perfunctory knock on her door, Cal entered, and Della, standing in the middle of the room desperately trying to hold back the tears that had threatened to flow earlier, was at a loss to know what to say to him. She couldn't even meet his eyes for fear of seeing a kind of sympathy there which would make her burst into tears on the spot.

  `I know it's not easy for you,' he said in that deep voice of his. 'All I ask is that you give it a try. You're probably homesick as well, and you've had a lot of stress lately.'

  As he said this he moved forward towards her, and Della, terrified he might make some attempt at consoling her by offering her his wide shoulder,

  moved away from him in a movement that said more than words, stopping him dead in his tracks. She kept her eyes on the view she could see out of her window, still unable to look at him.

  When he spoke again, his voice was so reserved it sounded positively icy. 'I was not about to take advantage of the situation,' he said coldly. 'I would appreciate it if you looked on me as your late uncle's partner and friend. Nothing else is sought.'

  His words brought Della's gaze quickly back to him, and she saw the proud hold of his head and the blazing grey eyes. She blinked. It was not an easy situation for either of them, and right now he was hating every minute of it. Then she sighed; it was the price he was making himself pay for Rimmer's Way, and the stupid part about it was that it hadn't been necessary.

  'Perhaps,' he went on acidly, 'now that is quite clear, you might not feel the sudden need for company and can rest easy. You don't know me well enough as yet to know my word is my bond. If you do feel the life is too lonely for you, and you know what you want to do, then you only have to say so, and I'll do the rest.'

  Della's brown eyes met his. He meant every word, she was certain. She also had a shrewd idea that he was beginning to regret the marriage, as well he might! It was now or never!

  She looked away from him swiftly and carefully studied the polished flooring. 'I do know,' she murmured, not missing the slight start he gave at her firm reply. 'I'd got it all worked out on the boat coming over,' her eyes came back to him. 'As you know, I'm used to town life at home in England, and to office work. I had meant to spend some time with my uncle, but I didn't really visualise actually settling down on the ranch—er—for good, I mean.'

  She walked over to a chair and sat down slowly. 'I'm not cut out for a life of leisure. I've always had to earn my living.' She looked up at him. 'I've had a good secretarial training, and I'd like to go back to that work. Alice said I'd have no trouble in finding a job, she even suggested I started an agency in the town--she said there was a crying need for one.' She hesitated, then went on firmly, 'If you really did mean what you said about seeing to things for me— well, that's what I'd like—to start an agency, I mean. I'd have to have some capital to start with. I'm afraid I don't know how much, not until I've gone into things, that is, but perhaps you could see to that for me?'

  His reply was stiff and very formal. 'If that is what you want.'

  A very relieved Della thanked him and waited hopefully for him to go. She had got through to him at last, and she couldn't think of anything else they had to discuss, but on noting he was in no hurry to take his leave, she wondered whether she had missed anything out, and thought she had it. 'I'm terribly sorry I didn't make this clear to you at our first

  meeting,' she said apologetically. 'But you see Uncle Denny's death rather took the wind out of my sails and I just couldn't think properly, but since I've been here ' she faltered, then pulled herself together and continued, 'everything is well— impossible,' she ended lamely, but Cal must know what she meant.

  impossible?' he drawled softly, making Della's cheeks burn at the implied statement. It could have meant anything, but she was sure she
had not mistaken the implication.

  `Sleep on it,' he said dryly as he got up to leave. `There's plenty of time to sort things out. I'll keep what you've said in mind, though,' and he made his exit.

  Della's gaze returned to the floor. It was odd how he kept looking a gift horse in the mouth, and although it appeared she had made her point and was home and dry, she had a sneaking feeling she had just embarked on an obstacle course!

  The following morning, Della sorted through her possessions for a suitable book to start off with for . David's lessons. There were several she had brought with her, and now as she gazed at them her brow creased in thought on which would prove the most suitable for such a purpose.

  In the end she chose a detective novel she had bought on the boat coming over, but had never had the chance to finish, for she had shortly afterwards

  encountered Alice, and from then on. Alice's ceaseless chattering had made concentration a lost hope.

  She had begged a cardboard box from Luis, not of course giving him the real reason as to why she wanted it, but explaining that she needed something to put a few of her oddments in, and proceeded to cut it up into small squares upon each of which she put a letter of the alphabet. Once it was done, she placed them in a large envelope and carefully hid the remains of the box in the bottom of her wardrobe, hoping an opportunity would present itself whereby she could safely dispose of it.

  It was not Luis she was afraid of, for in spite of his huffy manner, she was certain he could be relied on not to divulge the information should he become aware of it. It was Cora Della was worried about; she had not forgotten the way she had walked in on her on that other occasion, without so much as a knock, and even though she had told Della she would be occupied for the next few days, Della was not sure that it hadn't been just an excuse to prevent her trailing after her.

  With a certain amount of relief, she picked up the envelope and placed it in her jerkin pocket and, collecting the book, went to find David.

  He was polishing an old but beautiful saddle when she found him, and Della watched while he finished the task. Eyeing the silver inlaid decoration on the sides of the saddle, she asked, 'Cal's? It's very old, isn't it?'

 

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