Lauren's Dilemma (15 page)

The
furnace-like heat hit Laurie as soon as she ventured off the verandah. Thank
goodness she wore a hat. Down at the stockyards she watched Wally Morgan
breaking in a young horse. What a wonderful rider, not cruel, either. Some
horse breakers were harsh in their methods. Danny used to tell her tales about
cruelty that even now gave her the shudders.

After a
short time without shade, the sun seared her skin like a furnace blast. She
headed towards the homestead via the orchard Fergie had mentioned. It stretched
for two or three acres, at least. Apple, apricot and peach trees were the only
ones she could recognize, as gardening had never been her strong point. The
apricots were finished, but the peaches must have been a late variety as the
branches were still laden with ripe fruit.

Two
scarecrows flapping listlessly in the breeze did little to scare off the
marauding bird life, she noticed with a smile, watching flocks of white
cockatoos and pretty grey and pink galahs fighting and squabbling in every
tree.

An elderly
Chinaman nodded to her. She rather hoped he might have a pigtail hanging down
his back, but the hair poking out from under his coolie hat was cut short.

“Hello, Mr.
Chong.”

He gazed at
her intently before moving his lips in what she hoped was an answering
greeting. Apparently a man of few words was the gardener.

She
traipsed back to the verandah, glad of the shade it afforded.

“Where have
you been?”

 
She jumped nearly a foot in the air when Blair
spoke. He lay sprawled out in a cane lounger. As he made to rise, she flopped
into a chair next to his and gave a huge sigh.

He now wore
white moleskin trousers with a short-sleeved work shirt. His hair was damp,
combed back from his face in the rather severe style he seemed to favor.

“I went for
a walk.” She was pleased to see him, and not afraid to show it.

“You look
hot and dusty,” he commented with a smile.

“I am.” She
pushed back a damp tendril of hair. “I stood out in the sun too long, I think.
I didn't realize it was so hot out in the open.”

“What you
need is a cool drink.” He poured some orange juice from a jug resting on a
small wooden table that had been hidden from her view by a huge potted geranium
bush.

“Lovely,
thanks.” She downed the contents in a few mouthfuls. “How do you feel now?”

“Better.”
He smiled. “Have you seen the horses yet?”

Laurie
laughed. “Of course, Mr. Morgan was breaking in a young one.
 
That's why I became so hot and dusty. I stood
there watching for ages. The horse sensed straight away who was the boss, yet
Mr. Morgan wasn't cruel. I can't stand cruelty to animals, especially horses,”
she went on passionately, “they’re such noble beasts.”

“I don't
like cruelty myself. No need for it. A strong, firm hand is all a man
requires.”

She chatted
excitedly, feeling happy for the first time in months. “You have a wonderful
home. If I lived here, I don't think I would ever want to leave. No wonder you
wanted to get back so desperately.”

“It's a
fine place.
 
Over the years I've spent
too much time away. School, and then I had business interests to attend to, and
a few social things, as well. I was getting ready to settle down when the war
came.”
 
He frowned deeply as he grappled
with elusive memories. “I met someone before I enlisted in the army, it must
have been you, and yet...”

Laurie's
mouth went dry, her heart pounded, and guilt weighed her down once more. “Of
course it was me.” You lying hypocrite. Did he notice how forced her laugh was?
See the guilty red burning her cheeks? What would he do if he found out she was
an imposter? “We met through my aunt and uncle.”

Hastily she
changed the subject by asking if he could find a suitable horse for her to
ride.

“Wally can
pick you out a mount. Once I’m more mobile, I intend buying you a horse,
something special, Laurie.”

“You don't
have to.” Green eyes stared into grey, and an aching need filled her heart.

“I want to.
It will be my way of saying thank you. Do you remember me mentioning George
McKinlay?”

“Mm.”

“He's one
of our closest neighbors. He’s been building up a good stud for a number of
years with the help of his sons. Wally says Dick, the younger son, is home from
the war now, badly shell-shocked. There is something wrong with his heart, too.
Hardly speaks a word. Poor lad's in a real bad way.”

After this
piece of information, he lapsed into a brooding, silent world she could not
enter. He had been to places, seen sights so horrific his consciousness blotted
them out, but in the deepest recesses of his mind they still haunted him. She
wanted to help exorcise his demons but didn’t know how. All she could do was
stay close by, offering comfort when he needed it. It was an awesome burden to
carry around on her shoulders, but this was the price she had to pay for
agreeing to share his life.

* * *

Dinner
turned out to be a relaxed, pleasant meal. Angus and Wally only spoke when they
had to, and she supposed they felt uncomfortable because of her presence. They
drank their tea in the sitting room. When the men stepped outside on the
verandah to smoke their pipes, she wandered out to the kitchen.

“Fergie,
could I help with the dishes?”

“I don't
think Mr. Blair would like that.”

“Oh, he
won't care.” She brushed the housekeeper’s protest aside.

At Laurie's
insistence, Fergie capitulated, and when the dishes were finished they picked
out a menu for the next day. Laurie went out to the verandah to find Blair on
his own, leaning with both elbows propped against the rail, thoughtfully
puffing his pipe.

The sun had
dropped like a fireball behind the distant mountains, dusk was falling, and
already the nightlife had started to make its presence felt. Crickets chirped
loudly, and from somewhere in the distance the mournful call of a wild dog
lingered in the night air. Even the buzzing of a stray mosquito seemed to
harmonize well.

“Care for a
stroll?” Blair invited without moving his position.

“Yes, love
to, thanks, but how did you know it was me?”

“Instinct.
You know something? I'm glad you wear your hair loose, it would be a shame to
trap those glorious curls.” He reached over and twisted one around his
forefinger.

“Will I get
your stick, or could you lean on me?”

“I'd much
prefer leaning on you.” He chuckled. “What man would refuse such an offer?”

He grabbed
hold of the verandah post to maneuver himself down the steps, and then they
linked arms. He walked with a slow, uneven gait, so she slowed to match her
pace with his.

The
stables, built of the same sandstone as the homestead, had a coach house and
harness room at one end, with horse stalls in the center. He pointed out where
Wally Morgan lived, in an attic built above the stables.

“We kept
several thoroughbred horses in my parents’ time; they were fine riders. I
always kept two or three mounts for guests, too. I took Starlight with me when
I joined the Light Horse. Firebrand, his half brother, runs in the paddocks.
Wally exercises him as much as he can, but otherwise we only have work horses
left now. I lost my best men to the army. Angus says it's almost impossible to
get any decent young men out here now, but when the war finishes, I'd like to
build the stables up again.” He finished on a sigh.

Would there
be any fit young men left?
 
Not if the
war keeps going the way it is. It was a depressing thought that weighed heavily
on her.

They
strolled towards a creek meandering past willow-lined banks just a few hundred
yards from the homestead.

“Would you
like to see our swimming hole?”

Laurie
nodded. They followed the creek for a short time until it opened out into a
lagoon. Giant weeping willow trees cast shadows over a stretch of sandy shore. A
gentle breeze caressed her skin with cool fingers. The perfume of gum leaves,
mingled with fresh clear water, wafted in her nostrils. No French perfume could
compare with the smell of nighttime in the Australian bush.

“When I
came home for the school holidays, I generally brought a couple of mates with
me, and we used to sneak out of the house for midnight swims.”

Blair’s
hand had been resting on Laurie’s shoulder, and suddenly he drew her into his
arms. His head blotted out the sky as his warm, firm lips tentatively sought
and found hers, and she tasted the merest hint of pipe tobacco. His hands
caressed her shoulders before sliding down her spinal column.

Sudden heat
fused their bodies together. The soft hollow of her throat felt the hot,
searching caress of his mouth. She locked her arms around his waist.

“Laurie,
Laurie,” he whispered over and over.

She
returned his kisses, shyly at first, but gaining in confidence as a
long-suppressed passion flared into life. His hand cupped her breast, his
fingers gently kneading the soft flesh until she moaned with heated delight.

He released
her so abruptly she felt bereft, as if something special had been cruelly
snatched away. His breathing sounded rapid and uneven, hers a little less so.

“We’d
better be getting back while I’ve got the strength to let you go,” his voice
sounded low, raw with emotion.

He held her
trembling hand as they made for the homestead. “Goodnight, Laurie.”
 
He escorted her to the door. “I might have a
pipe before I retire.”

“Goodnight.”
She fled to her room, where by the lamplight she surveyed herself in the
mirror. Her hair was tousled, her cheeks flushed to a warm pink, her burning
eyes the color of jade. Tentatively she touched her lips with one finger. They
were sensitive, slightly tender from Blair's fierce, passionate kisses.

* * *

Laurie
awoke next morning to the caroling of magpies. By the time she dressed and went
into the kitchen it was nine o'clock.

“Good
morning, Miss Laurie,” Fergie greeted her cheerfully. “If you give me a couple
of minutes I can set up the dining room.”

“I can eat
here.” The table was already set for breakfast. “It doesn't worry me, as long
as I have something to eat. I’m starving.”

“You're a
considerate young lady, I must say. We're short-handed at the moment. The girl
who used to help out up and got married.” Fergie gave a resigned shrug. “Mr.
Blair has already eaten and gone out.”

Hurt surged
through her because he had left without her. After last night she wanted to see
him, was desperate to see him, in fact. Was he too embarrassed to face
her?
 

“He said to
tell you he'd be back for morning tea about ten.”

Her heart
rate returned to normal. She ploughed through a plate full to overflowing with
bacon, eggs and fried tomatoes. “I'll get fat if I keep eating like this.” Two
cups of tea and a piece of toast later, and she felt replete, but rather
ashamed of her unladylike appetite.

After
helping with the dishes, she volunteered to dust the furniture. By ten-thirty
she had tidied her room and was up to her elbows in cake batter when Blair
limped in, a wide grin chasing away his normal sobriety.

Bet I've
got flour on my nose.
 
On remembering
what had happened between them last night, her hand flew to her lips. If he
noticed he gave no sign.

The lines
etched so deeply on his face had disappeared miraculously overnight. His hair,
tousled from wearing a hat, gave him a raffish appearance.

“You seem
pleased with yourself, Blair.”

“Do I?” He
leaned over and tilted her chin with one finger. “Enjoying yourself?”

“Yes, I'm
having a nice time cooking.”

“A
domesticated young lady, hmmm?”

“Oh, Mr.
Blair, Miss Laurie has been such a help,” Fergie gushed, detailing the jobs
they had performed.

“You don't
mind, do you? I had nothing else much to do, and Fergie is so busy now the other
girl who used to help out has left.”

“I told you
to replace Sally.”

“I was
going to, but with you away and all, I coped.”

“I'll see
about getting someone else straight away. I won't have you overdoing things,
and Laurie is my guest.”

“I'm all
right. Even without Miss Laurie's help, I can get by.”

“I don't
mind helping. Fergie can't do everything—it isn't fair. My being here creates
extra work.”

“Until we
get another maid, I would be grateful if you could help out, but I must say I'm
not happy about it.”

“Don't
worry, I'm not a social butterfly. I'm used to doing a certain amount of
household chores.” Laughing, she left the kitchen to collect her hat.