The Ultimate Choice

CHAPTER FOUR

Kelly frowned over the unresolved problem, then shrugged it aside. She would tackle Justin St John about the horses another time. She had saved Grandpa from having to fight eviction. His land and home were now secured. That was the important thing! What Justin St John felt about her and what she felt about him… even the horses…they were pale considerations against what had been achieved.

Nevertheless, it was difficult to block out the mixture of emotions that Justin St John had evoked in her. He was certainly different from what she had expected. Different and… strangely compelling. She felt a distinct sense of loss at the way their meeting had ended.

But the loss was quickly counterbalanced by the surge of well-being she felt as she drove out of the pine forest and headed down the road that cut through the grazing pastures of Marian Park. This place was so much a part of her life that Kelly couldn't imagine belonging anywhere else. And now she never had to leave it. She drank in the scene around her with a heady sense of exhilaration.

The merino sheep that dotted the fields were the best in the world for their wool; descended from Saxony and Silesian strains that could be traced back to the Escurial flocks of the Spanish kings, and the Rambouillets of Louis the Sixteenth, but now bred into a unique strain that was unequalled outside of Australia.

The whole national flock-over a hundred million sheep-had their genetic make-up determined by just twenty-one parent studs, of which Marian Park was undoubtedly the best-in Kelly's opinion. After all, how could it be less than the best when it could boast ownership of Octavian Augustus the Fourth, the cream of the industry's elite rams? Henry Lloyd had been offered a quarter of a million dollars for him, but no way would Henry have ever countenanced Octavian Augustus the Fourth's leaving Marian Park.

This was home to the prize ram. Just as it was home to her and Grandpa, even if that claim could only be made in a subsidiary sense. To be part of this property in any way at all was a matter of intense pride. Marian Park was real quality-one of the great stud sheep showplaces in the world-on a par with Haddon Rig and Falkiner's.

Of course, Grandpa's flock wasn't in the same class and was never meant to be. He was in the business of breeding fat lambs for eating. Merinos crossed with Border Leicesters or Romney Marshes were good producers. Sometimes he cross-bred with Corriedales because they combined fine mutton with a high class of wool. They all had their place in the sheep industry. And, of course, Marian Park always received the best from him.

That was how it had always been. And how it would now continue to be. The O'Reillys and Hanrahans kept their agreements.

Kelly smiled as their house came into view-their home for as long as they wanted it to be. It was nothing grand like the Lloyd mansion, but it was a good solid house in the Australian colonial style: white-painted weather-board, verandas all around, and a green corrugated iron roof with the bull-nosed eaves that were becoming fashionable again.

Grandpa would never have to leave it now, and Kelly felt a thrill of triumph at what she had achieved.

She zoomed through the gateway and didn't bother to drive down to the shed to put her car away. That could wait until later. She was eager to tell Grandpa the good news.

She pulled up beside Judge Moffat's car, raced up the front steps and burst into the kitchen where the two old men were still sitting over their dinner. 'Guess what I've done?' she cried, beaming her exhilaration at them.

Both men appeared too sunk in gloom to lift anything but glum faces to her. Although Kelly would have relished drawing out the news for its maximum impact, the need to inject some cheerful optimism had top priority. She related her confrontation with Justin St John and its happy outcome in as few words as possible, and had the pleasure of seeing ten years lift from her grandfather's face.

His surprise and relief gradually settled into a righteous satisfaction. His eyes sparked with new life, his sunken cheeks puffed out, his jawline firmed, and his shoulders lifted. He was no longer the impressive figure of a man he had once been, he had grown thin and wiry with age, and was almost bald, but the old strength of character rose out of the lines in his face and Kelly silently rejoiced in his rejuvenation.

'At least he's seen one of his mistakes!' Michael O'Reilly declared with ringing satisfaction.

'He actually said he would hand the title deeds over?' Judge Moffat questioned sharply, wary of accepting what Kelly had told them at face value.

He was a big man in his late sixties, florid of face and with a distinguished thatch of snow-white hair. His light blue eyes narrowed in speculative thought at Kelly's insistence that Justin St John had given her his solemn assurance.

'Well, I'd have to mark that in his favour-if he carries through on it-but I wouldn't be counting your chickens before they hatch, Michael,' he advised her (grandfather heavily. 'Not after what I heard from Tom Kennedy down at the courthouse this afternoon. Justin St John is very slippery. In my experience, a man like that cannot be trusted.'

'What did Uncle Tom say?' Kelly asked, confident in her own mind that Justin St John would keep his word.

'It's about the sheep,' her grandfather answered with a disapproving frown. 'The most terrible thing, Kelly! He's selling us out. He's selling the country out. He's selling everybody out.'

'A traitor! We've got to find a way to stop him,' the judge rumbled. 'If we don't, we're all going to lose a lot of money. The Russians won't even want to look at my rams, let alone buy them. He's a traitor, all right. A traitor to everyone!'

'What's going on? What's he done?' Kelly demanded impatiently, finding the accusation distinctly unpalatable.

Judge Moffat huffed. 'You know the government will only allow five hundred rams to be exported overseas each year…'

'Yes, of course. It's an enormous concession. Our wool per sheep is almost double the world average. Why should we give that advantage away?'

'Exactly! I don't mind selling them good sheep as long as we keep the best for ourselves. But Justin St John has found a way around it! He's sold us out!' the judge almost thundered in his indignation.

'How?' Kelly asked in bewilderment.

'The Russians are going to get Octavian Augustus the Fourth,' her grandfather answered mournfully.

Shock bounced around Kelly's mind. She refused to believe it. No one could be that mad. But her grandfather and Judge Moffat believed it. She groped for words in Justin St John's defence. 'That's impossible! He can't do it! Octavian Augustus the Fourth is the greatest merino ram in the world. The government would step in. They won't allow it.'

'That's the iniquity of the thing!' the judge growled. 'He's keeping Octavian Augustus the Fourth. He's selling the semen for artificial insemination…'

'But that's illegal!' Kelly pounced, relieved that they had to be wrong about Justin St John. For some reason that she didn't stop to examine, she didn't want to believe he was bad any more. 'You can't export it. It's against the regulations!' she said triumphantly.

'That's where he's so clever,' her grandfather put in with grudging admiration. 'Everyone in Crooked Creek will wish they'd thought of it first. He's going to be hated for it.'

'For what?' Kelly almost screeched.

'He's impregnating five thousand ewes. When they conceive, the ewes carry the embryos out of the country and there goes the breeding strain from Octavian Augustus the Fourth. He's already had the Russian ambassador down…'

'Should be hung, drawn, and quartered!' the judge thundered, clearly of the opinion that the statute books should still allow that particular sentence to be handed down. He threw up his hands in despairing appeal. 'How am I going to sell my rams to them when they get that standard of breeding over there? At the very least, it will depress prices abysmally!'

'But can he do it, Grandpa?' Kelly asked, feeling very confused about the man.

'Nothing to stop him that I know of. Or the judge. Australia needs the Russians to develop their wool industry to defeat the threat of synthetic fibre. Henry Lloyd told me that himself. And then there's the humanitarian side. Russia is one of the coldest countries in the world. It needs better, heavier wool to keep its population warm. But Justin St John is sure going to clean up with this deal. He'll make so much money…'

'Disgusting! Absolutely disgusting!' the judge cried in heartfelt condemnation.

Kelly only just managed to stifle a smile. Justin St John was certainly a smart operator, and he might be revolutionising the industry, but he wasn't doing anything bad in selling the ewes to the Russians.

And it was now perfectly clear that the judge, who owned a daughter stud, fiercely resented the fact that he hadn't thought of the scheme first.

Naturally Grandpa sympathised with him. Justin St John had been the enemy up until tonight, and it would take a little while to readjust that thinking.

'Well, at least we're going to keep this place,' she said brightly, wanting to remind her grandfather that the shadow had lifted from their future.

'Don't believe anything until you have the title deeds in your hands,' the judge grumbled pessimistically.

But her grandfather looked more spry than he had for weeks as he rose from the table and suggested they adjourn to the living-room for their chess game. And some three hours later, after he had waved the judge goodnight, he boasted to Kelly that he had wiped his friend off the board with one checkmate after another.

All in all, it had been a victorious night.

Kelly set off for work the next morning in buoyant spirits. Her grandfather had eaten a good breakfast and was out looking over his sheep, which clearly demonstrated a healthy interest in life. It was the interferential on the back seat of the Toyota which reminded her that their benefactor of last night was probably facing the day with more pain than pleasure.

Justin St John was certainly suffering from the old injury to his leg, and the physiotherapy she had given him would only have effected minimum relief. Judging from the pain he had been unable to hide, Kelly reckoned he needed daily treatments for at least a week before the trouble would really ease. Probably a fortnight. After what he had done for her and Grandpa, Kelly wanted to help him. But would he let her?

His refusal of her offer last night had been so emphatic, she could hardly ignore it. He couldn't have been more adamant that he did not want her to come back to Marian Park. But surely that was just an extreme reaction to what had only been- a momentary aberration on both their parts.

Certainly he had a very masculine attraction- Kelly couldn't deny that-and she was not unaware that most men gave her a second look, although to say she was beautiful was stretching the truth, and she viewed such a remark with downright cynicism. She had a good figure, but her fair complexion was a curse and she was all too aware of the freckles that sprinkled her skin. Nevertheless, she didn't think it altogether unnatural for Justin St John to feel a fleeting impulse to kiss her.

The situation had been fraught with a lot of feelings, and things had got slightly out of hand. That was all. It wouldn't happen again. After he had had time to think about it, Justin St John would realise that. He was a mature adult with too much experience to let such a little incident upset him unduly. And she would soon show him that she could be completely professional. She would ring him and offer her services again. It was the least she could do after what he had done.

However, when Kelly reached her office she had second thoughts on the matter. Perhaps it was too soon after last night for Justin St John to change his mind. If she telephoned and he refused again, it might cement his decision. And she didn't want that. On the other hand, if the pain was bad enough, and she left it a day or two, he might be in a more persuadable frame of mind when she rang.

That was the better course, Kelly decided. She couldn't risk another outright rejection from him. There was still the matter of the horses to be resolved. However, she was now hopeful that Justin St John would be reasonable once she had a chance to explain everything to him. All she had to do was time her approach correctly.

The day passed. Kelly could not help comparing her male patients to Justin St John. Not one of them had a body to match his, although many were younger. A couple of them tried to flirt with her, but she found their attentions callow and irritating. It was a relief to go home.

Her grandfather unconsciously echoed her own thoughts over dinner that night. 'Is he the kind of man to change his mind, Kelly?'

'I wouldn't think so, Grandpa,' she answered. But he might if she waited long enough, she hoped privately. And if he was thinking the same kind of thoughts she was thinking…

'The judge might be right,' her grandfather remarked doubtfully. 'Justin St John could have been fobbing you off while he…'

'No!' Kelly said with absolute conviction. She fixed her grandfather with steady green eyes. 'I'm certain he was sincere. We've got nothing to worry about, Grandpa.'

He heaved a sigh of satisfaction, but after a few moments a frown descended. 'What about the horses? Is he going to let you ride them?'

'Uh… I didn't have the opportunity to ask. It didn't seem to be… quite the right moment,' she excused.

'Hmm…' Her grandfather ruminated on that for several minutes. 'Haven't you got them entered for Dapto?'

'Yes. But I thought I'd wait a day or two, Grandpa. After all, we've just won a big concession from him. I didn't want to press my luck. And if he rings up for physiotherapy again…'

Her grandfather's face suddenly split into a wide grin. 'You reckon if it worked once it could work twice. Justin St John might be slippery like the judge says. But that's one way of pinning him down, eh, Kelly?'

He laughed, his good humour restored, and Kelly laughed with him, pretending that was precisely the plan, although she was considerably less confident about it than she had been this morning.

The more she thought about it, the more uncertain she became that Justin St John would change his mind about seeing her again. He was not the kind of man who liked to acknowledge any weakness, not even pain. And she kept remembering the flash of revulsion on his face. It nagged at her mind. What was so wrong about her that he should feel so revolted by the temptation to kiss her?

No call came from Marian Park requesting her services. Kelly fretted through three days, then decided she had to take the initiative before it was too late to break the impasse.

Roy Farley answered her call.

'Thank you for your concern, Miss Hanrahan,' he said politely, 'but Mr St John does not require any more physiotherapy.'

Which had to be a lie, Kelly reasoned. 'May I speak to him, Mr Farley? He may not realise…'

'I'm sorry, Miss Hanrahan,' he cut in decisively. 'Mr St John is not available. I'll tell him you called, if that is what you want. Should he wish to get back to you, I'm sure he will.'

'Yes. Thank you,' Kelly said, completely squashed. No comeback possible on that line!

Well, let him suffer, if that was how he felt, Kelly thought belligerently. But that didn't solve the problem of the horses. And the Dapto show- jumping events were fast approaching. The horses needed to be worked. How was she going to get to Justin St John if he insisted on being unavailable? She didn't want to antagonise the man. Certainly not while Grandpa's land rights were still being settled.

It was a very tricky situation. She couldn't delay much longer. Already it was too late to get the horses into peak readiness. Rasputin was probably her only chance. The big black stallion-all sixteen point three hands of him-was a born jumper. If Justin St John would only take the time to listen to her… but how to make him?

The solution came two days later.

Kelly came home from work to a jubilant grandfather. 'The title deeds!' he shouted to her from the veranda, waving a sheaf of papers in the air. 'De- livered by special courier. They came this afternoon. He really did it, Kelly! We've got them!'

He rushed her inside to the kitchen and laid the important papers out on the table. 'All signed up and legal!' he gloated happily. 'I got Tom Kennedy to come and check them over. I could hardly believe it, but it's true all right. Tom says they're the real McCoy. No doubt about it. Judge Moffat was wrong.'

'I told you that Justin St John meant it, Grandpa,' Kelly reminded him, although even she felt dazed at the speed with which the promise had been fulfilled.

It was so good of him to have done it so fast! For one thing, it showed his power. For another, his integrity. And also the kindest consideration.

Kelly made her decision immediately. He should be thanked. Straight away. In person. It was the only decent thing to do.

She heaved a sigh of relief as the idea blossomed inside her. It was certainly the right course of action. And what better way to reach a friendly understanding with him? She was truly grateful for what he'd done, and she could show her gratitude. She wouldn't offer him physiotherapy again. She would insist he have it. And whenever he needed relief from pain, she would come to Marian Park and not charge him any extra for it.

And if he was as nice as he had been over settling Grandpa's land rights, and let her ride his horses, she wouldn't charge him any fee at all.

'We ought to thank him, Grandpa. You stay here and have your supper, I'll go on up to Marian Park and do it right now,' she announced decisively.

Her grandfather lifted a startled look. He was still reaching for words when Kelly swung into action. She didn't want to discuss the point. This was her best excuse to get Justin St John to see her, and she wasn't going to let anything or anyone stop her from speaking to him.

She whirled out of the kitchen, ran down the veranda steps to her car, leapt in, gunned the motor and drove up to Marian Park with absolute determination in her heart.