Although Kelly was satisfied that she had won the honours in the first round with Justin St John, it was early days yet, and the end was still very much up in the air. Why had he changed his mind from yesterday, when he had categorically refused any more physiotherapy from her? Why hadn't he attacked her about stealing Rasputin? He hadn't even mentioned it. He had to have some plan up his sleeve.
Kelly conscientiously carried through the exercises necessary for her other patient, but she was extremely aware of Justin St John's presence in the next room. However, with the extra workload that his presence had thrust on her, she was kept busy for the next forty minutes.
Not that he suffered in any way from the lack of her personal attention. Leaving the machine on him for that long wouldn't do any harm, and could only do good. The high frequency waves would help relieve the pain. The low frequency waves would exercise and help correct the atrophy of the underused muscles.
After she had finished with two other patients, she could give Justin St John her undivided attention until ten-thirty. And that would be the danger period. Kelly was aware that if he was going to make some counterstroke against her it would be during this time that it came.
The minutes rolled by all too quickly.
Kelly returned to the cubicle.
For a moment she felt light-headed, much the same as she felt before the penultimate round in a Grand Prix event, when it was essential not only to do well, but to pull out something special that would place her in front of all the other competitors. She took a deep breath and pulled the curtain shut behind her.
She switched off the interferential and removed the suction cups. 'How does this feel now?'
'Better,' he grunted.
'I'll finish off with some resisted exercises and then some ultrasound.'
He complied with all her instructions without complaint. No conversation was entered into by either party as she made him move his leg against the pressure of her hand. But there was a distinct rise of tension in the room. The physical connection that the exercises demanded engendered a very personal sense of intimacy.
'That's enough for today,' Kelly finally said, her voice made husky by a tightened throat. She swallowed hard, then attempted a brisker tone. 'To do any more might stir it up. But when we can get more freedom of movement I'll start you on the weights. I want you here every day…'
'Kelly…'
He levered himself up on his elbows and it was a demand to meet his gaze. She looked up, knowing and expecting this to be the moment of reckoning. There was a sardonic twist to his mouth, and the grey eyes were hard and probing.
Kelly's chin lifted belligerently, if it's beneath your dignity to come here, I'll come to you.'
He shook his head. 'You can't really believe you can barter therapy for the horses…
'I wouldn't try!' A flush of indignation highlighted her cheeks. 'And that's a very offensive comment! I've given you no reason to relate the two things in such a cynical fashion. I do care about you, whether you want me to or not. And I don't want to see you… incapacitated, when it's all so unnecessary.'
His lips curled with bitter irony, if I hadn't been incapacitated, you wouldn't have got away from me yesterday evening.'
Kelly took a deep breath and faced him squarely. 'If your feelings were more human, it wouldn't have been necessary for me to get away from you. You would let me ride my horses. I wouldn't have to steal them from you.' Her green eyes blazed with righteous conviction. 'You're the one who is unjust. I'm sorry about the pain you inflicted upon yourself, but it's all your own fault.'
He rose up from the table, every line of his face drawn into haughty reserve, if I were less of a human being, I would give you every encouragement to break your foolish neck. The thought of having to deliver such news to your grandfather is sufficient inducement by itself to make me decide that you should not ride my horses. I…
'Don't bring my grandfather into this. Yesterday it was Noni. Today…'
‘It's for your own good.'
'No, it's not. It's…'
'I also wish to apologise for kissing you. With our age difference, it was a totally foolish thing to do.'
'There's no need to apologise,' Kelly insisted hotly. 'As kisses go, that was an experience worth having.'
His face tightened. 'We're not getting anywhere with this.' He eased himself off the table and walked to the chair where he had hung his trousers. He kept his back turned to her as he effected a more dignified appearance.
Hating his silence, Kelly plunged on to another tack, I haven't thanked you for returning my car. I appreciated the consideration. In fact…'
'Simple expedience!' he cut in brusquely, it would have been more of a problem to me if you'd presented yourself at Marian Park for another session of plea-bargaining.'
He swung around, formidable in his armoured control. 'You're a very forward young woman, Kelly Hanrahan,' he stated with an emphasis that had Kelly instantly bristling. 'But I will make a bargain with you,' he added in a tone that smacked of condescension.
Her temperature soared. He'd forced all the running, not her! 'You're an impossibly arrogant man, Justin St John,' she shot back at him recklessly. 'And I'm not sure I want to make a bargain with you. If you're going to pretend nothing happened between us…'
'I'll tell you what's between us,' he whipped back bitterly. 'About twelve years. And a matter of horses. And it wouldn't be the first time a woman used her body to get what she wants.'
That he could have interpreted her response to him in such a way shocked and angered Kelly. For several moments she was utterly speechless, colour ebbing and flowing in her cheeks. He watched her with hard, remorseless eyes as she struggled to bring herself under control.
'You can leave now, Mr St John. You have had your treatment. If you're not in a medical fund, that will be twenty dollars,' she bit out, then marched off to the desk in the waiting-room to do whatever paperwork was required to send him on his way.
She heard him follow her with his walking-stick, but scorned to look up until he reached the opposite side of her desk. Then she raised a frosty glare. 'I hope you appreciate how much better you're walking on that leg?'
'Yes,' he replied curtly, and the steely grey eyes met and returned her challenge. 'How long will it take to restore it to perfect working order?'
‘I don't make God-like judgements!' she snapped, too furious to feel any triumph that he was considering her advice. 'After regular therapy for a fortnight, I might be able to give you a fairly accurate prognosis. Will nine o'clock each day suit you?'
'I'll make it suit!'
He dropped a twenty-dollar note on the desk. Kelly did not bother picking it up. She wrote out a receipt, her biro stabbing at the paper in her fierce resentment.
'I won't be here next week,' she informed him as she banged down her pen, tore the page out of the receipt-book and handed it to him with icy disdain. 'But I'll leave instructions for your treatment with my replacement.'
He ignored the receipt. 'Why won't you be here?' he demanded, his eyes boring into hers.
'Because I'll be show-jumping,' she stated defiantly.
His hand whipped out and caught her around the wrist. 'Not on that black stallion!'
Her eyes flared with immovable determination. 'No matter what you do about Rasputin, I'll still go show-jumping. I've been offered other rides, and if I have to take what I can get, I will! You can't stop me!'
His fingers tightened around her wrist. 'Bring that black rogue back, Kelly, and I'll reconsider about the other horses.'
'Rasputin is the best! I can win more surely on him than any other horse.'
'And lose more surely!' was the fierce retort. 'No one has been able to ride him.'
Kelly bared her teeth. 'I can. Now, take your hand off mine, Mr St John. I might think you're using your body to get what you want.'
Every nerve in Kelly's body jangled in alarm as the tension between them gathered explosive proportions. Then, suddenly, the dangerous glitter in his eyes faded and he broke into a self-derisive laugh.
'Touché!' He released her wrist and regarded her with grudging admiration. 'I see I cannot impose my will on yours. But whether you want to believe it or not, I do have your best interests at heart, Kelly.'
'That's very presumptuous of you, Mr St John,' she replied, disdaining his claim, in case it's escaped your notice, I'm old enough to make my own decisions.'
'Then make the right one. The only sensible one!' he said in exasperation.
Another patient came through the door.
'Please… reconsider.'
The soft appeal nearly made her change her mind. She didn't want to fight with him. She wanted to please him. If he let her ride the other three horses in exchange for Rasputin… but the thought of all the years of effort, Henry Lloyd's faith in her, and Noni before that… if she compromised now, it would be a betrayal in more ways than one.
Kelly couldn't do it. She lifted pained eyes, wishing he could understand. 'I'm sorry, Justin. But at present that is quite impossible.'
He looked at her steadily for a moment. Kelly could not possibly decipher what was on his mind. 'I'm sorry, too,' he said. 'I'll leave you to your patients.' He turned on his heel and walked out the door.
Kelly wondered when she would see him again- and under what circumstances. He had given her the chance to settle out of court, so to speak. Having had his offer refused, what would he do now?
Well, it was out of her control, Kelly decided. She had done the best she could by him. She could do no more.
With an air of resignation she turned to her next patient.
It was going to be a long day.
Kelly saw her last patient out of the door. Ever since Justin St John had left that morning she had been half expecting something to happen, but the rest of the day had passed without the slightest ripple out of the ordinary.
She telephoned the judge's place to check on Rasputin. Arlene Moffat assured her that he was fine; her stable-boy had set up some jumps for Kelly, and she could come and practise any time she liked.
Kelly was tempted to drive straight out there, yet prudence dictated caution. Nothing had been resolved with Justin St John this morning, and Kelly did not think he was the type of man to tamely accept her defiance. What his next step would be, only time would tell, but Kelly did not want to risk being observed and having Rasputin taken away from her.
'I'll come out early tomorrow morning, Mrs Moffat. And many thanks to you and the judge for all you've done,' Kelly said warmly.
'Our pleasure, Kelly. And if you bring your clothes for work, you can shower and change here. That will save you some time.'
Kelly thanked her once more, and with her spirits boosted by the thought of having her favourite horse to ride again she locked up the office and went home.
Justin St John's next move stared her in the face as she drove up to the house. The palomino, the chestnut and the grey were all tethered to the fence railing.
When she could tear her eyes away from the horses, she saw her grandfather strolling down the veranda steps, wearing a huge grin on his face. Kelly's heart pounded with excitement and uncertainty as she stopped the car and leapt out.
'How did they get here, Grandpa?'
'Stable-hand brought them down about half an hour ago.'
Kelly shook her head, trying to work out the implications. 'What does it mean?' she wondered out loud, unable to believe that Justin St John had completely climbed down from his position, but wildly hoping that he had.
‘It means you can ride them and jump them to your heart's content,' her grandfather rolled out with relish. 'And I've put your saddle on Rapunzel because I reckoned you'd want to take her out first.'
'But… surely the stable-hand said something?' Kelly cried, bursting to know the best… or the worst.
'No more than I've told you.'
'Nothing about Rasputin?'
'Not a word!' Her grandfather grinned again. 'Reckon he's capitulated, Kelly.'
The Justin St Johns of the world did not capitulate, she thought grimly. Yet he seemed to have accepted her advice about the physiotherapy he needed. Completely perplexed by the man, Kelly looked at her grandfather for his advice.
'Don't look three gift horses in the mouth, Kelly,' he said with an encouraging chuckle. 'Go to it, girl. Who knows what might happen next?'
'That's true enough!' Kelly said with feeling. 'I'll go and get changed.'
'Just like old times,' her grandfather said with happy satisfaction.
But it couldn't be quite the same without Rasputin. And Kelly wasn't at all sure what game Justin St John was playing with this open-handed gesture. Or was it a trick? she wondered as she stripped off her work clothes and pulled on her riding gear.
Perhaps it was his way of pressuring her to accept the bargain he had offered this morning. Showing her his good faith, and expecting her to respond with the return of Rasputin. If so, he could think again, Kelly determined stubbornly. As far as she was concerned, there were no strings attached. And she would play it that way until otherwise informed.
She took all three horses down to the practice field. She set the grey and the chestnut free to graze while she gave the palomino a work-out over the jumps. Rapunzel was willing enough, and game, but she didn't have the black stallion's ability in jumping. Nevertheless, Kelly enjoyed encouraging the good-natured mare. When she managed all the jumps without knocking a rail, Kelly laughed from sheer elation.
It was then that she saw the man watching her from the fence which edged the pine forest. Although he was too far away for Kelly to discern his features, she knew instinctively that it was Justin St John. Still exuberant over her success with Rapunzel, Kelly waved to him.
He did not wave back.
Kelly was tempted to ride up to him, but even from this distance there was a forbidding look about him which suggested she wouldn't be welcomed. He was probably watching to see if she broke her foolish neck, Kelly decided. It would support her cause more if she kept on riding and showed him how wrong he was.
He watched her until she had taken all three horses through their paces. When she started to lead them up towards the stables, he moved away from the fence and disappeared into the pine forest, making it very clear that he had nothing more to say to her at this time.
Kelly smothered her disappointment with the hope that he would keep his nine o'clock appointment in her office tomorrow. Having seen how capable a horse-woman she was, perhaps he would be more reasonable about Rasputin.
Arlene Moffat echoed the same opinion when Kelly related the latest developments over the Moffats' breakfast-table the next morning. The black stallion had performed like a dream for her, and Kelly's resolve not to part with him had been immeasurably hardened by the morning's ride.
However, when Justin St John entered her office at five minutes to nine, he carried a distinctly unapproachable air with him.
'Good morning,' he said, coolly polite. 'Same room?'
'Yes,' said Kelly, choking up from his hard unrelenting manner. Why couldn't he smile, at her?
It wasn't until he was on the table, ready for more treatment, that she screwed up the courage to speak again. 'Thank you for letting me have the horses back,' she rushed out.
The grey eyes stabbed at her. 'I don't want your thanks. You know my feelings on the matter. It was simply the lesser of two evils,' he stated curtly.
He didn't mention Rasputin.
Kelly didn't either, deciding that discretion was the better part of valour on that sore point.
He watched her ride again that afternoon… a dark, brooding figure leaning on the fence, waiting for her to have an accident. Kelly rode particularly well, controlling every move of her mount with exhilarating ease. She liked Justin St John watching her. It lent a marvellous sharpness to every moment.
Eventually he would bend, she kept telling herself. He cared about her, just as she cared about him. She was certain of it.
Judge Moffat's car was parked outside the house when she got home. It was chess night again. Kelly heard her grandfather's voice raised in umbrage as she crossed the veranda, and wondered what had upset him. She hurried into the kitchen where the two men were sitting over their supper.
'What are you on about, Grandpa?' she asked. He had obviously worked himself up about something.
'Kelly, I took the lambs up to Mrs Ryan this afternoon, just like I always do. She said Justin St John didn't want more than four each week any more. That he wanted some beef for a change.' His eyes almost smoked with outrage. 'I'm going to have to run beef-cattle with the sheep!'
Kelly frowned. 'Maybe he doesn't understand the agreement, Grandpa,' she suggested in soft appeasement.
'Herefords or Charolais or Santa Gertrudis…'
'What if he develops a taste for chicken?' the judge put in with sympathetic concern. 'What are you going to do then?'
'Chicken?' her grandfather squawked.
'Or fish?' the judge added.
It was the final straw! 'Henry Lloyd ate lamb for seventy-five years,' Michael O'Reilly thundered, if it was good enough for Henry Lloyd, it's good enough for Justin St John!'
'Quite right,' the judge agreed. 'He's got to be taught to fit in. This is sheep country. Always has been. Always will be. He can't come in here changing things. We've got to stand up to him. Show him he's wrong!'
'I'll have a word with him when he comes for his physiotherapy tomorrow, Grandpa,' Kelly offered. 'I'm sure he doesn't understand.'
'You haven't got him to understand about Rasputin, Kelly,' the judge warned pessimistically, then switched his attention back to her grandfather. 'And talking about sheep, Michael, I've had a thought about Octavian Augustus the Fourth…'
‘It's clear that Justin St John doesn't really appreciate sheep,' Michael grumbled. 'Let's go into the living-room and set up the chess-board, Judge. I'm in a fighting mood tonight.'
Kelly wondered if her grandfather remembered his intention to let the judge win this time, but she didn't get a chance to remind him. In fact, she was so tired after her long day that she went to bed before the chess match was over and didn't hear the final outcome that evening.
However, when she had finished with Rasputin the next morning, Judge Moffat took great pride in telling her that he had swept her grandfather off the chess-board.
Kelly wished it could be as easy to checkmate Justin St John.
He arrived for his physiotherapy with the same stiff-necked reserve he had worn the previous day. Kelly decided she would not be put off or put down or put out again, no matter how he acted or what he said or how he made her feel. Nevertheless, she worked on her composure while he was on the interferential, and waited until she had started the resisted exercises before opening her account.
'You've got my grandfather upset again, Justin. You're not keeping to the agreement.'
He groaned.
'Did I hurt you?' Kelly asked anxiously.
'No. And I don't recall giving you permission to call me Justin,' he said peevishly.
'You call me Kelly,' she argued. 'Why shouldn't I call you Justin?'
He sighed. 'How have I upset your grandfather?'
'You didn't take all the lambs you're supposed to,' she explained. 'Under the agreement…'
'I'm sick to death of eating lamb!'
'You don't have to eat it yourself. You could give it away. Or sell it to the butcher,' Kelly suggested brightly. 'But you've got to take them. Henry Lloyd used to…'
'I am not Henry Lloyd!' He glared at her. 'And I'm sick to death of being told what Henry Lloyd used to do.'
Kelly closed her mouth in thin-lipped disapproval. She glared back at Justin St John. The tension in the room thickened. He bent first.
'All right! Tell me what Henry Lloyd used to do,' he said in weary disgust.
'He used to pass the lamb on to his staff when he didn't need it for himself. The gardeners and…'
'Fine! I'll pass it on.'
Kelly heaved a sigh of satisfaction. 'I told Grandpa you'd understand. He was having visions of having to run cattle to cater for your taste. Herefords and…'
'You can't mean it?' Justin levered himself up on his elbows with a look of sheer incredulity.
'Well, what else could he do? If you wouldn't take the full complement of lambs according to the agreement…'
'Never mind!' He shook his head and dropped down on to the table again. He breathed deeply for several seconds. 'Assure your grandfather that any agreement will be kept to the letter from now on.'
'Thank you,' she said, even though he didn't like to be thanked. He should be more gracious about that, Kelly thought to herself. But she didn't want to criticise him too severely, because she had another favour to ask him.
She waited until the exercises were completed and was spreading oil over his hip-joint in preparation for the ultrasound.
‘Is it all right if I take the horse-truck?' she asked, her eyes pleading her need. 'I can't transport the horses without it.'
He closed his eyes against her and his jaw tightened as if he was clenching his teeth. 'You haven't brought back that damned stallion yet,' he bit out.
Kelly took a deep breath. 'Would you let me ride him if I did?'
'No!' It was a hard, explosive negative, leaving her no room to manoeuvre.
'Well, that settles that,' she reasoned quietly. 'But if I'm to compete with the other horses, I can't get them to Dapto without the horse-truck.'
'Kelly…' His voice sounded very strained. She felt his flesh quiver under her hand. 'Will you stop spreading that oil and get on with it?'
'Oh!' Flustered by her hand's dalliance, Kelly snatched it away and grabbed for the ultrasound. She played the small machine over his muscles as she struggled to regain her composure.
It wasn't easy. She was more aware of him than ever. It was even worse when she had to switch the ultrasound off and wipe the oil from his skin with the tissues. She felt quite sure he didn't want her to touch him.
'You can get up now,' she choked out, and quickly turned away to dispose of the used tissues.
Every pore in her body was listening for him to get off the table and walk to the chair where he had hung his trousers. Every nerve was stretched tight, waiting for a less discomfiting distance between them.
His feet thudded softly on to the floor. The short ensuing silence pulsed with a tension that was not wholly hers. The urge to turn around and see what he was feeling was terribly strong. But he had called her a forward young woman, and even suggested she could be using her body to get what she wanted. If he thought she had been caressing him knowingly…
There was a whispering sigh, and at last footsteps moving away. Kelly's chest hurt from holding her breath. She let it out slowly, desperately trying to regain some control of the situation.
'You can take the truck. As long as you don't take Rasputin.'
The flat words slapped Kelly's mind into refocusing on the problem of her favourite horse. She couldn't go without him. He was her best chance of winning the main event.
Justin St John finished dressing and swung around, his eyes stabbing right into her heart and soul as he spoke with relentless decision. 'Promise me you won't slip him in along the way. Promise me that now, Kelly.'
Slowly she shook her head. 'No! You're wrong about this. Terribly wrong. As you've been about so many other things.'
His face contorted with angry frustration. 'Why do you have to be so stubborn? You're a beautiful young woman. With your whole life ahead of you. Why put it at risk?'
'All life is a risk!' she retorted. 'And show- jumping is no more dangerous than playing polo. You did that, didn't you? And I bet if you could have gone on playing it after your accident, you would have done that too.'
'But I couldn't. And I didn't.' His eyes glittered over her with intense bitterness. 'And I don't want to see the same thing happen to you.'
Kelly flushed at the unwitting cruelty of her words. 'I'm sorry. It's just that…'
'You think I'm unreasonable,' he mocked savagely. 'Well, let me tell you, Kelly Hanrahan, I was riding horses before you were born. And my sister was in show-jumping. I'm very familiar with all types of horses, and I've seen Rasputin's kind before.' His mouth twisted. 'Noni Lloyd had one just like him. A Hanoverian stallion. Bred for jumping. He'd rather crash into a fence than balk. One mistake from you, Kelly-cutting him too short to gain time, not getting him set into the right stride for a triple or a combination-and he'll go for it anyway. And he'll take you with him.'
'You don't know Rasputin,' Kelly defended. 'He can adjust. Improvise. He's a natural. There's no other horse like him.'
A bleak weariness settled in the grey eyes. 'Kelly, I can't stop you from show-jumping other owners' horses, but I can stop you from competing with mine. I don't want it to come to that. Please… reconsider. You can ride the other three if you must. But not Rasputin.'
'You don't understand,' Kelly pleaded. 'I'll never find another like him. To ride Rasputin… it's like magic…'
'Black magic!' he snapped impatiently. 'You're tempting the gods every time you mount that devil. Put an end to it before he puts an end to you. Make your mind up to that, Kelly. For your own sake!'
There was no talking to him. She could see that. And he wouldn't even give her the chance to prove him wrong. While she was still floundering for a way to reach out to him, he pulled out his wallet, extracted a twenty-dollar note, and dropped it on the table.
'Think about it!' he said harshly, and walked out.