by Anne Hampson
'Then I'll go straight back to England, and that will be that!'
'You wouldn't sell out!' exclaimed Lin. 'Not now that we've got the place so nice and comfortable.'
'I certainly shall sell out if you two keep on worrying about me.' Kate looked at them in turn, hating having to resort to deception, but determined to put a stop to their anxiety and feeling of guilt. That they did feel guilty there was no doubt, because they were forever repeating that they had let her down, after persuading her to come out here and take over her property herself.
'I for one should feel even worse if you did decide to sell out,' said Cherry, and Kate lowered her head, avoiding her friend's eyes.
'So would I,' from Lin with a frown. 'Promise you won't even think of such a thing, Kate. Why, if you went back to England, we'd never see you again!'
Kate looked up, noting the shadows in Lin's eyes; Cherry's eyes were also dark and troubled. This was a sad time for them all despite the fact that Lin and Cherry were both to be married within a month. But this sadness would pass and one day be forgotten. Time did that sort of thing; it gradually drew realities into its mists, mists which thickened with each succeeding year until the realities were realities no more, but distant visions which fleetingly recurred, giving pleasure or pain—or perhaps arousing no emotion at all because the stage of near-forgetfulness had been reached. Theirs had been a wonderful friendship, but like all else it must succumb to change.
Lin repeated her request for a promise that Kate would not even think of selling out and without hesitation Kate gave the promise. From then on the shadows lifted and the homestead was light again and warm, and things continued as before except that Lin and Cherry were often taken by their fiancés into town to do their pre-wedding shopping. The dresses were being made at home, simply because there was no money to buy model gowns from Sydney or some other large city where fashionable clothes were bought by the 'smart set' of the Outback graziers. It was not that Cherry and Lin couldn't have had the money; both Paul and James had offered to buy everything, being fully aware of the girls' straits, but pride forbade accepting money before marriage. And so the homestead at High Creek was a hive of industry during the weeks preceding the double wedding, which was to take place at Paul's home.
With only a week to go Kate decided to approach Mark, as she wished to be free to leave High Creek immediately after the wedding. She felt she could not face more than one or two nights there on her own. Lin had suggested she get someone to live with her—some adventurous pommy from England. She could advertise in the English newspapers, Lin had gone on to suggest. Kate promised to think about it, and in fact she would seriously have considered it had it not been for the way she felt about Mark. It would have been nice to stay, so that her friendships could continue… but already Mark occupied her thoughts too much by far, and Kate had begun to wonder if she could have gone on anyway—even had her friends not been leaving her.
Kate rode over to High Creek Downs one morning after Cherry and Lin had gone off with Paul, who was taking them into town to do the last-minute shopping for things which had been forgotten. Mark was out, with the men, but Sophia said he would be back soon as he had orders to give to the men about the alterations.
'Alterations?'
'The house—' Sophia stopped. 'Can you hear the banging?'
'Yes. Is Mr. Copeland having some alterations done?'
The woman nodded.
'It's the bedroom his father had. There's to be another window put in it and a bathroom added to it.' The Boss had had the alterations in mind for some time, Sophia went on, showing Kate into the lounge and asking her if she would like some coffee.
'Yes, please.' Kate stood over by the window while waiting for the coffee. Men could be seen among the cattle. Preparations were going on for mustering, she knew, so it was a busy time for Mark. It seemed odd that he should start the alterations to the house at a time like this, but she supposed, on thinking about it, he himself would not be greatly affected by these alterations.
She saw him approaching, riding the chestnut gelding; her heart gave an uncomfortable lurch and she decided it would be a good thing when she left here, and the process of forgetfulness could begin. He handed the horse over to Ferdie, who took it away to the paddock where half a dozen newly-broken brumbies cropped the grass. Mark did not enter the house immediately; Kate saw him stand a moment and look at Summer Song, tethered to a tree a short distance from the house. She saw him push his sombrero to the back of his head and she saw the sun glint on the fair hair at the front. What was he thinking? Probably he knew why she had come—yes, he must do because there was no other reason why she should be here. Her face was pale as she turned; Mark stood in the doorway a second or two before moving into the centre of the room. His hat went spinning on to the couch and he stood still again, in that familiar position with feet slightly apart and one hand tucked into his belt. A giant he looked, even in this grand room.
'To what,' he drawled at last, 'do I owe the honour of this visit, so early in the morning?'
She looked down at her hands, and unconsciously twisted her fingers. But after a moment she lifted her head.
'I expect you know very well why I've come,' she answered huskily, and waited to hear the ready reply in the affirmative. Instead, she saw his face harden and a glint of steel enter his eyes.
'I'll order some coffee,' he almost snapped, reaching for the bell.
'Sophia's bringing mine,' Kate told him, bewildered by his manner.
The lubra entered almost immediately and another order was given.
'Sit down,' said Mark when the maid had gone. And he added immediately, 'We'll sit outside; it's more pleasant, as there's a breeze.'
Kate stepped through the french window on to the verandah and sat down on the chair which Mark brought forward for her. He also took a seat, but said nothing. Why this strange silence? she wondered, quite mystified by the attitude he was adopting. He knew why she was here, so why was the eagerness not in evidence? It wasn't as if he didn't want her farm; he wanted it very much, had wanted it all his life, as had his people before him. Kate's eyes wandered to where the sunbeams filtered through the trees on to the lawn, patterning it with several different shades of green. Rosellas flitted about, bright and swift; the scent of wattles floated on the breeze, mingling with the more sophisticated but equally delightful perfumes of the garden.
'I'm offering you my farm,' blurted out Kate at last, unable to bear the silence a moment longer, so strained and filled with tension it was. Mark, seated on the other side of the table, stretched his long legs out in front of him, his narrowed gaze on the pair of jackos chuckling together on the lawn, the fingers of one hand drumming thoughtfully on the arm of his chair. He had evinced no surprise whatsoever at her hastily-spoken words—but why should he?
'You're leaving Australia?'
'Yes; just as soon as I can after the wedding.' She paused. 'I don't want anyone to know, Mr. Copeland—'
'Mark,' he interrupted softly. 'We've dropped the formalities, remember?'
She nodded, but refrained from using his name as she went on to explain about her friends' anxiety and their assertions that they were letting her down.
'So I promised in the end I wouldn't sell out,' Kate went on when Mark made no comment. 'I had to promise—because they wouldn't have been happy otherwise.'
'You promised? And yet you're offering the place to me?'
'They'd feel more guilty than ever if they thought they were responsible for my selling out, and that's why I promised. It was a necessity, for my friends' peace of mind. You see, they were the ones who persuaded—' Too late she broke off; a sudden frown settled on her companion's brow.
'They persuaded you to come out here? You would have sold High Creek—left to yourself?'
After a small hesitation she had to admit that this was so.
'But I must confess,' she added frankly, 'that the idea of coming out here very soon began to appeal to m
e. But of course—' She stopped and a difficult smile broke over her pale but lovely features. 'I believed I was the owner of…' She allowed her voice to fade; there was no need for any supplement to that. Mark stared at her intently, and it was with inordinate relief that she saw Sophia approaching with the tray. This she placed on the table and at a slight nod from Mark Kate began to pour the coffee.
'Thank you,' he said as she handed him his across the table. And then he added, 'You're very pale, Kate, and you're obviously upset about—about certain eventualities—' He broke off, swallowing, just as if he had a blockage in his throat. 'You'd leave immediately after the wedding,' he then said, and she felt he had deliberately shirked whatever had been in his mind a second previously. 'You'd leave, after promising your friends that you'll stay?'
She blinked, confounded by these words.
'Aren't you glad I'm offering you the farm?' she asked, noting to her astonishment that he was shaking his head—although she guessed it was a purely involuntary action of which he himself was not aware. 'It's impossible for me to remain at High Creek on my own—'
'You could get someone to live with you,' he cut in roughly, and Kate's eyes widened as her bewilderment grew.
'Lin and Cherry suggested that, and I half-promised I would, but—'
'So you're breaking another promise, it would appear?'
'I don't understand you,' she mumbled after a pause. 'Don't you want my property?' Stupid and superfluous question, but Kate felt it might lead to some form of explanation as to the reason for his strange behaviour. But, ignoring her question, Mark said in the same harsh tone that she had no right to break her promises to Cherry and Lin, and that she should at least remain at High Creek for a little while longer.
Kate shook her head.
'I've definitely made up my mind to return to England.'
'To escape, I suppose!' His voice vibrated with sudden fury, and while Kate dwelt on this, becoming all the while more mystified than ever, it dawned on her that those words had come out unbidden, that Mark had not intended voicing them at all but that some strong inner emotion had driven him to do so. Why should he be so furious? She herself had done nothing to arouse his anger. On the contrary, she had offered him her property, and by all that was logical they should now be amicably discussing the price of that property and making arrangements for it to change hands. She gave a little sigh, wondering whether to disillusion him about her feelings for Paul, for it was abundantly clear that he believed she was rushing away from High Creek merely, as he had just stated, to escape. Of course, it was to escape… but not from Paul.
'How much are you willing to pay for my farm?' she asked, anxious only to get down to business, conduct it as rapidly as possible, and leave here. The next—and probably the last—time she and Mark would meet would be at the wedding. 'Will it be sufficient for my fare and for me to get settled on my return to England? You see, we sold everything—' Kate pulled herself up with a jerk. Mark was not interested in the problems she would encounter on her return to England.
Picking up his cup, he drank deeply, his eyes on the jackos still chuckling together on the lawn.
'I am not now interested in buying your property.' So soft the words, and yet they rang in Kate's ears louder than the clanging of a bell.
'Wh-what d-did you say?' she stammered, her eyes wide and disbelieving. His profile was towards her; he kept it like that, rendering it impossible for her to read his expression. 'What did you say?' she repeated after a long unfathomable silence.
He turned then, and she gasped inwardly at the harshness in his face. It created deep lines from nose to mouth; it darkened his eyes and flexed his out-thrust jaw.
'I have no further interest in your property.'
He meant those words, and for a long moment Kate could only stare, wondering what had happened to make him change his mind. But panic seized her very soon and she cried out desperately that he would have to buy High Creek from her. He wanted it—he must want it! But he merely looked intently at her and said, in his more familiar slow and easy way now, as he appeared to have successfully curbed the fury that only a short while ago seemed to hold him in its grip:
'I don't seem to be able to make myself clear to you, Kate.' And with a stress that could not possibly fail to convince, 'I have no intention of buying High Creek from you.'
She moistened her lips, for they felt parched and tight. What would she do if he remained in this frame of mind?
'There must be some reason,' she whispered, looking at him and not caring that tears hung on her lashes. 'I know I've been stubborn, and—and you did say that—that you would never be in so generous a mood again. But if you'll just give me my fare b-back to—to England…?'
He was silent; she wondered if it were imagination, but he seemed to sigh inwardly. And a greyness had appeared about his mouth. Kate was reminded, for no apparent reason, of his manner on the occasion of Paul's being missing. His face had been grey then, and drawn, as it was now. A nerve had pulsated in his throat, evidence of an inner tension… and that same nerve pulsated now. What did it mean?
Kate stared at it, fascinated by it. And with the swiftness of lightning the most incredible idea leapt to her mind. She spoke without thinking, breathless and urgent.
'Why won't you buy my farm? Is it because you don't want me to leave here? Because you don't want me to return to England?' Could the idea have some basis? Was it within the bounds of possibility that he cared for her? Recalling those kisses, so passionate and demanding, she also recalled that Mark had baldly stated that they were taken for his own pleasure… but that was not really like the calm and distant Mark Copeland…
His eyes flickered over her for a few seconds before, coolly and dispassionately:
'It's quite unfair of you to hurt your friends by leaving High Creek immediately after the wedding. As you yourself have said, they're going to feel responsible for your hasty action. Why should their honeymoons be spoiled simply because you want to run away? And,' he added, 'I should be aiding and abetting you were I to buy High Creek at this time, and that's why I'm refusing to do so.'
Kate's whole body sagged. He was thinking only of the other two girls, and Paul, perhaps; as if Cherry were unhappy then Paul would be too. Mark thought a lot about his brother, so it was natural that he should want to spare him any upset on his honeymoon.
'I shall sell to someone else,' said Kate in trembling tones—and received no reaction at all. Mark was not afraid of that, for who would want to buy a strip of land jammed in by two colossal cattle stations such as those possessed by Mark? 'There isn't anything more to say,' she added, rising unsteadily from her chair. She knew she was pale, and her lips trembled despite her effort at control. Mark rose too and stood for a space looking down at her, broodingly, and with a shadowed gaze.
'If you think you'll be nervous over there, alone at night, then I'll arrange for someone to sleep at the homestead with you.' A small pause and then, with sudden decision, 'Alternatively, you can come over here every evening and stay the night.'
She frowned.
'Why should you care whether or not I'm nervous?'
'Naturally I care. It's the concern of one neighbour for another. We're like that in the Outback.'
Again she sagged. Why these tiny waves of hope and optimism? They were meant to be shattered and she was just a fool, trying to convince herself that Mark was not quite so indifferent to her as would appear on the surface. And yet… there was something very strange in his manner…
'Boss—Boss!' It was Ferdie, waving a large envelope, creased and grimy and slightly torn.
'A letter, Boss! One of the workmen found it at the back of the cupboard when they were pulling it down. It looks important, because there's a seal over the flap!' It changed hands. Mark's face became taut and a frown creased his brow. He raised his eyes from a contemplation of the handwriting and said:
'Thank you, Ferdie. You may go.'
'Yes, Boss.' Clearly disapp
ointed, Ferdie went with much less speed than he had come.
'Excuse me,' said Mark, half-turning from Kate as he began to slit the envelope above the seal. A long silence followed; Kate heard a deep and long-drawn-out sigh come from deep within him before, turning, he said, 'You were just going, and I won't keep you. But remember what I've said. When the others have left High Creek you're very welcome to sleep here— or, if you prefer it, you can have one of my lubras sleeping at High Creek.' Clearly something of vital importance was contained in the envelope he had just opened, for he seemed to be a long way off, yet he seemed also to have read something which afforded him extreme satisfaction.
His abrupt and curt dismissal affected Kate profoundly; she experienced a sudden deep and almost physical hurt and to her utter dismay she burst into tears.
'I'm sorry,' she said, drying her eyes. 'I d-don't know why I'm like this—except th-that I'm at my wits' end over High Creek. I can't stay—'
'You'll stay!' again the harshness, terrible to see this time. 'You'll get over him! I told you he wasn't for you—not in so many words, perhaps, but I knew you and he weren't suited. My words have proved to be correct, because it's obvious that he and Cherry are deeply in love. Go home—and set about forgetting that you ever cared for my brother!'
Silence. Even the kookaburras stopped laughing, their comical heads cocked, because of this man who was almost shouting, up there, on the verandah. Kate swallowed hard because she had something in her throat. But it was neither fear nor despair. It was in fact something almost pleasant, as was this new and breathless tingling of her pulse. Flooding in once again was the idea that Mark cared. Yes, incredible as it would once have seemed, it was now a conviction, and she leant a little towards him as she said, her face lifted to his:
'Mark… I'm not running away from Paul.'
Silence again, so intense and profound. His blue eyes, darkened so short a time ago, opened wide and she saw that they were clear and comprehending.
'Not from Paul? Kate, what are you saying?'
