Читать книгу Ella - Virginia Taylor - Страница 12

Ella rode with her sister past the woolshed and parted with Vianna at the gate of the holding yard. After following the boundary fence for some fifteen minutes, she found a section of broken wire. With the tool Cal had shown her how to use, she pulled the ends together, though not easily. She fixed the next four faults a little faster. Most of the wire had been snapped at the top.

On the fifth repair job, she slid from her horse and saw the perfect explanation as to why. At the top of the incline, a mob of kangaroos leaped the fence. The first five found no impediment. The sixth hit the top. The wire didn’t break, but the kangaroo stumbled like any jumper who had misjudged the height. Unlike most other jumpers, however, the marsupial picked himself up and sped off even faster than he had approached the fence.

She couldn’t imagine how high or how strong a fence would need to be to keep out kangaroos. Many times she’d seen them leap even higher, and many times she’d seen them throw themselves continually at a fence until they’d conquered the invader and left the defenses useless. Fence mending would be a constant for anyone who made a living on the land. However, for a woman who had mastered the rigors of laundering, mending fences was a mere physical task. She laughed, socking her fist into her blistering palm.

The sun rose high in the sky. Eucalyptus oil scented the air and the haze hovered around a group of trees. She heard the pad of hooves and saw Jed approach on the other stock horse. Papa had often commented on the stockman’s ability to find him whenever he wanted. Ella stood waiting, wondering what sign she’d left of her movements for Jed to track her so easily.

She shaded her eyes with her hand. “Is there a problem?” she asked as soon as he came close enough to hear.

He shook his head and gave his wide smile. “Sheep where Missy say. Do Missy’s fences now.” He swung off his horse.

Stretching her aching back, she smiled. “I’d appreciate help. It’s hard to pull the wire and twist it at the same time.”

She and Jed led their horses to the next part of the damaged fence. He spotted two sheep that had escaped into the bushland and followed them on foot. Soon the sheep stood on the right side of the fence. Jed pulled the wire tight and Ella twisted. When her fingers grew too tender, they changed jobs. They finished for the day at the eastern boundary, and very little wire remained. With no money and with the account at the local store embarrassingly overdue, she would have to barter for more.

She glanced at the sun and sighed, focusing on the food preparation she needed to do for the evening meal. “We’ll go back now,” she said to Jed.

He grinned and mounted his horse. As Ella followed suit, Jed dismounted and raced off with a whoop. Ella watched him leap over the fence and run with long, loping strides until he disappeared.

Within a few minutes, he returned with a dead rabbit hanging from his belt. “Good tucker,” he said with his habitual beam.

By no means had Ella mended all the fences, and the work left to do would be exhausting. She grinned back. Now that she had been taught how, she could finish the task in the next few days.

* * * *

The ubiquitous mutton roasted and the vegetables sizzled. The daylight would last another couple of hours. With the outside table ready for the evening meal, Rose wrote letters and Vianna cut scraps of fabric for her doll’s clothes. Ella, her mood lightened by her successful day, joined Cal, who had promised her a lesson in shepherding. He looked indefatigable. His shirt was fresh, he smelled of soap, and his dark hair was wet and slicked back. Not only was he wildly handsome, but he was also patient enough to continue teaching a pupil whose ability was, at best, untried.

The dogs, under Cal’s control, separated four ewes from those shorn during the day and herded the grouped sheep toward the temporarily empty woolshed paddock. Jed would bring in the next mob tomorrow. When the sheep stopped inside the fence, Cal said, “Tell the dogs to sit.”

“Sit.” She wished she and Cal had not lost the familiarity of last night. A little relaxation, a smile, a touch, or even a joke would have been appreciated. Instead, he acted like the taskmaster of this morning.

The dogs pranced around, stirring drifts of dry soil. “Be definite.”

“Definitely sit, dogs,” she said sternly, placing her hands on her hips. Amazingly, they did. “Oh, this is easy. Stand.”

Cal shook his head and laughed. “Heel.” He glanced at her in mock reproof as they moved to his side. “Tell them to stay.”

“Stay.”

“Now, we want them to move the sheep two by two back through the gate,” he said, but the atmosphere had changed. Cal had adapted to her jaunty mood and seemed ready to be amused. He induced the dogs to do as he wished by a series of commands no more complicated than sit, stay, down, and heel.

By the time the sun had diminished to a glare behind the bordering pines, Ella had control of the dogs. She would never match Cal with her practical skills, but she tried hard to meet his standards. She and the dogs, with Cal sauntering behind, took the sheep back to the woolshed paddock.

“I’m very pleased with myself. I should be able to teach Jed to do that quite easily. You have a rare talent for getting the best out of people. Have you ever thought about running a property of your own?” She glanced at his broad shoulders and averted her gaze. His maleness caught at her insides and set her pulses fluttering.

“I hope to do that, certainly. My own way.”

“I suspect you never do a thing any other way,” she said matter-of-factly. “Is running a property your plan for the future?”

He brushed his fingers over his chin as if considering. “Not for my immediate future, no.”

“It’s hard to get past immediate futures,” she said, watching Girl angle her head beneath Cal’s hand to receive a pat. “If you’re like me, you want to do everything yesterday.”

“Like find your rich husband?”

She passed through the gate, which he shut behind her. “Women with rich husbands don’t have to learn how to herd sheep.”

“And they live in smart houses in the city.”

“Have you ever been to the city?”

He nodded, leaning back against the gate, one heel hooked on the bottom rung. “My mother lives in the city. Every year she finds me a new wife.”

“And how many do you have now?” She rested a palm on the fencepost, smiling at him, conscious of his strong jaw, his sculpted cheekbones, and her own breathing.

He smiled back. “None. The females that suit her don’t suit me.”

“And what sort of females suit you?”

“Are you testing my flirting skills?” he said with a hooded glance at her.

His unexpected response dried her mouth. She held his gaze. “Perhaps I’m testing mine.”

He inclined his head. “Most of you females seem to have it down pat.”

Encouraged by his banter, she lifted the closing wire over the fencepost and lingered. “Ah, I understand. You’re nursing a broken heart. Some woman trifled with you and then she married another.”

When he neither moved nor answered, she wondered if she’d guessed correctly. What sort of woman had broken his heart? Obviously one who didn’t appreciate a man with looks, humor, ability, intelligence, and apparent ambition. Cal could go anywhere and be anyone. He wouldn’t need to consider, using no particular example, a woman with no income, no special talents, blistered and scratched hands, and at least one dependent sister.

He turned slowly to stare at the shorn sheep, resting both elbows on the top of the gate. “When do you plan to do the dipping?”

Her eyes shifted to his bared forearms, sinewy, muscle-hard, and tanned, and she groaned. “I suspect you think I don’t have enough to occupy myself.”

“The best time for dipping is after shearing.”

She put her hand over her heart. “I swear that the sheep will be dipped sometime in the next two weeks.”

“Does Jed know how to dip sheep?”

“He used to help Papa.”

“You could probably help him.”

“Ladies don’t dip sheep.”

“Ladies don’t repair fences.” He took her hand in his, stroking his thumb across her reddened palm and examining a blister. “I assume that’s what you’ve been doing today.”

She drew a shivery breath, leaving her hand in his, remaining so still that the moment expanded to significance. “Jed doesn’t have time to do all the tasks you set him. I’ve needed to help.”

“Did you rake under the woolshed?”

“Someone had to, as you said.”

He gently turned her palm over and stroked the pad of his thumb across a new scratch. “Do you have the recipe for the dip?”

She heard herself breathe out. “No, but I’m sure you do.”

With her hand in his, he turned to face her. The strength in his stance contrasted with the softness in his expression. Her heart began to pound erratically.

“No woman has trifled with me and broken my heart,” he said, his thick lashes shading his eyes. “Do you see that as a fault in me?”

“If you have a fault, I’m yet to find it.”

“Why do I assume that is not a compliment?”

“Why indeed? No mere female could possibly understand the workings of a man’s mind.”

He glanced at her from beneath his lowered lids. “Our minds are simple—we need only food, and sleep, and one other thing.”

“Money?” she said, removing her hand from his hold with great reluctance.

“Two other things.”

“Respect?”

“Don’t tease me, Ella.”

“Ella? Did I say you could use my name?”

“I’m not a flirting man. There’s only one thing I want from a woman.”

She knew exactly what he meant, and she wished she could feel offended. Instead, she experienced a curl of heat low in her belly. “It’s nature, though, isn’t it? There’s only one thing a ram wants from a ewe.”

He took a sideways view of her expression. “I don’t think your father would like to hear you talking this way.”

“Perhaps if he hadn’t died, I wouldn’t be. I would be inside the house pressing flowers for my album or sketching a design for an evening gown. I’m changing with the circumstances, Cal. Didn’t you say I should?”

“Perhaps I’m not your best adviser.”

Her eyes prickled. She dashed a wrist beneath her nose. “You’re the only volunteer I’ve had thus far. I never expected to be left with a debt-ridden farm. Once I had everything, including a social life and two parents. You wouldn’t understand. You have a mother and you can go where you please and do what you please.”

“You have to make the best of what you have.”

“Did you read that in the shearer’s manual? I’m trying—you can see I’m trying.” She faced him defiantly. “I wish I’d been born a man.”

“I wish you had, too.” He didn’t move. The expression on his face told her that he controlled himself rigidly.

“Don’t worry. You don’t need to continue educating me.” Her chin lifted higher. “I can manage without you.”

And suddenly the tension dissipated. He glanced at his feet. She could swear he was hiding a smile.

“I’ve been ungrateful,” she said stiffly. “I should thank you, yet again.”

He lifted a palm to stop her speaking. “You’re bothering me, Ella.”

She turned her face away from him. “I won’t bother you anymore.”

“It’s not something you have control over. It’s the effect you have on me.”

“I know I speak too bluntly, and I know I argue way past the point of no return. Papa said I’m far too tactless but that most people could see that underneath I have a good heart.”

“I’m sure your father knew you better than I do, but I don’t agree. I think you are a delight and a constant temptation. And that bothers me, for I have no choice other than to resist you.”

She stared at him, gaze wide, her blood rushing so loudly she was sure he would hear. She tried to concentrate on breathing. Her body thrummed with awareness. He looked taller, darker, and more dangerous with the sun behind him. Without a doubt, everything about him lured her, from his self-containment to his utter stillness. The dogs frolicked at his feet, but he ignored them. Girl nudged his leg, but he pushed her snout away. She stared at Ella with sorrowful eyes. Ella heard the pitiful bleating of the sheep and a loud “cawing” she identified as a nearby crow.

“Ella,” Cal said softly, lifting a hand to her hair and catching a flyaway tendril between his fingers.

Her skin seared where his knuckle brushed her cheek. To herself or him, she whispered, “We shouldn’t.”

He cupped her face between his calloused hands. His fingers slid into the sides of her hair and with careful thumbs, he caressed her cheeks. “No, we shouldn’t. But just this once in my life, I want to be irresponsible.”

She only had time to soften her lips before his mouth angled across hers. She closed her eyes and he began to kiss her, slowly and gently. At first she felt the tingling there, but heat spread slowly throughout her body.

She shifted her hands to the muscles of his back and pressed her body against his, thrilled by his hard strength. Although willing to admit to excitement, she couldn’t get comfortable. He appeared to have something in his pocket. She wriggled. The more she wriggled, the deeper his kiss. He moved his hands down her to her buttocks and lifted her up against him. Her body pulsed with sensation.

Wanting to experience more, she moved her hands to his chest. When she’d faced him in his soaked shirt, she’d seen his perfect form, but she needed to touch him. His heart thundered against her palm and somehow his strength, his stability, and his lack of hesitation bred confidence in her.

She slid her hands to his behind and became another person, a hot, heavy-breathing bundle of desire. His rounded tightness and shifting muscles thrilled her. The stronger a man, the safer a woman felt. She made a sound of need.

His hands moved to cup her breasts. Standing on tiptoes, she let her body beg for every caress she could get, for she wanted more. She shifted her hips, not knowing how she could press any closer. His mouth lifted from hers and pressed against her cheeks, her nose, and her eyelids. He breathed as heavily as she, and his heart thundered exactly like hers.

No doubt he too wanted more. “This is probably no time to tell you,” she said in a husky murmur. “But you have rocks in your pockets, and if you are going to kiss a woman you should be aware of her comfort.”

His face nestled into her neck. “My Lord,” he said in a strange voice. “I thought you understood about rams and ewes.”

“I do.” She stilled. Her cheeks flamed. “I simply hadn’t applied it...”

He kissed her cheek, holding her upper arms. In a deliberate movement, he took a step back. After a moment of utter stillness, he nodded as if saying goodnight and walked off, the dogs trailing behind him.

She touched her cool palms to her face. The heat didn’t subside. Gathering her skirts, she ran back to the homestead understanding that he hadn’t treated her either as a lady or a station owner.

He had simply shown her what a man wanted from a woman.

* * * *

With the evening meal cooked and ready to be served and the daylight waning, Ella dressed in a dark brown taffeta she’d had fashioned two years ago so that she could attend formal functions with Papa. She presented herself in the kitchen and took her apron from the hook behind the door.

“My,” Rose said, staring. “You look very fine. Perhaps I ought to have a gown made in that color…after we get our money, of course.”

“And after we have bought the house?”

Rose took the serving spoons from the dresser drawer and made a sound of agreement.

Ella breathed out with relief. “If you want your inheritance to take to your husband, Vianna and I would be able to buy your share of a house somehow.”

Rose gave a cynical smile. “I won’t be marrying a man who wants my money. I have a very ambitious godmother. She has watched over me carefully these past two years. Men are more calculating than one supposes.” From the cupboard beneath the dresser, she took out the biggest meat plate and a covered vegetable dish, both gold-edged white china. “For a shearer, you would be a good catch. Be careful. That said, perhaps Vi should come out of black, too.”

“And what about you? When do you plan to come out of black?”

“When we get back to the city.” Rose glanced down at the beautiful black silk she wore. “I won’t have any use for these when I start enjoying life again.”

Ella sliced the meat. When Rose married, and nothing could be more certain than that event, life would continue as Papa had preordained. Ella would, possibly, take care of a few nieces and nephews in addition to Vianna. She couldn’t be a good catch for the handsome shearer who thought she was a delight, who kissed her as if she were a temptation, and who walked off when he discovered her inexperience. He wanted to dally with a woman but not one who expected marriage. Fortunately, she couldn’t marry a poor man, but the chance to be someone’s delight and their temptation didn’t come every day.

Rose piled the vegetables into the dish. “Where is that lazy child? She ought to be helping us.”

Ella went to the hall doorway and called, “Vianna!”

Vianna came out of the drawing room. “I was just getting my music ready for tonight. I thought I would play for the shearers after dinner,” she said defensively.

“I’m sure they would be very pleased.” Ella scraped the gravy into the boat. “Take this out and the vegetables, Vi. You go out, too, Rose. I won’t be much longer.”

Cal took one glance at her sophisticated presentation and seated himself at the other end of the table. Instead of being fazed, she was satisfied. If he sat by her, she would be unable to control the tremble of her hands and the clench of her throat.

She watched him when she thought he wasn’t looking, noticing that the other shearers treated him with unusual respect, following the lead of Alf, who also watched him when he thought no one was looking. Cal apparently impressed males just as much as females. Vianna lurked around him like a cat wanting to be stroked, but Rose let her brief interest rest on Ned, who had a tendency to tweak his moustache whenever she glanced at him. Ella, unfortunately, didn’t have an effect on Cal.

Finally the meal finished, and she washed the plates. Rose wiped. Dusk lowered outside. She saw Cal, Girl at heel, leave the men’s quarters and stroll behind the woolshed, heading for the river, possibly meaning to take a swim.

For the next ten days, she planned to be a woman rather than Papa’s daughter. For the rest of her life, she would be the responsible spinster guardian of her younger sister. She would never again meet a man who said she was irresistible. Her first chance was her last.

After putting the plates away, she took a sheet of paper from the dresser and wrote a quick note for the local dairy farmer, Nathaniel Lannock, who took his milk to the township every morning, filling the empty cans he passed along the way. Since Papa had died, Mr. Lannock had kindly delivered the milk to the back door. Clattering and bumping with her heavy load, she half-dragged the knee-high empty can to the front gate.

She returned past the apricot and plum trees, their fruit picked last month, the apples and pears with a couple of months to go, and the heavily laden peach trees. She skirted behind the stables and the woolshed.

Tonight, she intended to see if, despite her inexperience, she could lead Cal into temptation and deliver him from evil restraint.